#Bucky Barnes winter soldier

[buckyalpine]

His Winter Flower

Modern Beauty and the Beast AU Winter soldier x f reader

Long awaited, I hope you all enjoy it as well.

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: 18 + Angst, injuries, Fluff, All the sweet smut, Bucky is a sweetheart

"оставаться внизу" [Stay down] The soldier ordered, holding his gun to the targets forehead, his metal finger twitching against the trigger while the man cowered in front of him.

"Please" The man tried to plead but it was no use. He knew his fate was sealed the second he heard the thud of the boots entering his home. The whirring of metal. The ghost people spoke of but never saw until it was too late.

"тишина" [Silence] The soldiers rough voice growled behind the mask that covered his face. He pressed the barrel further into the man's head, freezing when he heard the soft patter of footsteps nearing the office he had broken into.

"Papa?" A soft voice called, the scent of roses and vanilla accompanying it, "Papa, where are y-

You gasped as you entered your father's study, your heart dropping to your stomach seeing him kneeling on the floor with his hands tied while the soldier towered above him.

So the rumors were true.

The silver of his arm was illuminated in the moonlight, the rest of him covered in Kevlar and black leather. Weapons were strapped to every bit of his body but the only one that worried you now was the one that was about to take your father's life.

"Don't hurt him!" It was a futile attempt to save your father, you knew this enough. The Winter Soldier didn't spare anyone, in fact for the longest time you wondered if he was nothing more than an urban legend. No one had actually seen him. Those that did didn't live to speak the tale. The soldier grunted in response, hardly sparing you a glance as he stared at the man before him.

A professor. A brilliant man. One who was quietly working with a group of researchers aiming to destroy the the longtime work of Arnim Zola from so many years ago. No more serums. No more soldiers.

Hydra wouldn't have that.

Not when those very serums created their best asset, the Winter Soldier himself.

"Он моя миссия" [He is my mission] Was the only response you were given. You didn't understand the words he said but it didn't matter; it was quite clear. He didn't intend on sparing the professor.

"Darling, please go, it's okay" Your father shook his head, ready to accept the consequences of his choices. He hoped to aid in the movement of making the world safer and if this was his end, he was prepared to meet it. Tears welled in his eyes with a sad smile on his face, "It'll be alright, go, hurry-

"No, please!" You pleaded with the soldier once again, all you could see were his blue eyes, void of emotion, cold and icy. "If-if you kill him, someone will take his place and then another. My father will no longer help with the government if you spare him and take me. Please just take me instead, it will put an end to all this. Please"

If you kill him, someone will take his place

The words rang through the soldiers mind.

It shouldn't be a problem. He'd killed plenty of people before but...

Then it would be another mission to carry.

And then another.

Another.

The innocent man trapped in his brain screamed to stop. A voice long forgotten, begging him to reconsider. To fight against the words that were causing him to do this. The solider flinched, fighting within himself, contemplating his next actions. The mission was to ensure Arnim Zola's work wouldn't be eradicated. The girl was offering herself to ensure the same work wouldn't continue. He wouldn't have more blood on his hands if he allowed the professor to live.

He shouldn't have cared but a part of him did.

He didn't want to kill another innocent man.

He never wanted to kill anyone.

Your father let out a sigh of relief feeling the weight of the gun pull away, only to have his greatest fear come alive; losing you.

"NO, darling you don't know what you're doing, I'll be fine-

It was too late. The soldier cut through the ropes that bound your father's wrists, taking you instead. Before your father could reach for you, the soldier grabbed and hauled you over his shoulder and strode away, ignoring the plea of the professor to spare his only daughter.

His mind was made up.

She was not his mission but now he had a new one.

If he killed the man, another would take his place.

He was risking repercussions listening to the trapped soul only his mind could hear.

He shouldn't have listened to her words.

He shouldn't have let the professor go.

Yet he agreed.

The gait of the soldier lulled you into a dreamless sleep; exhaustion consumed you as he wandered through a thicket of trees and into the woods far from home. You hadn't spoken a word nor let out a cry as he carried you off, after all, you agreed to be his prisoner as long as you father lived.

-

He brought you to a place he knew no one would find.

A place no one else knew of.

A place that was now his own.

He was once sent to take the life of a wealthy aristocrat, a man who had no one to leave his estate to. The place was deep in a forest, away from most of humanity; even when Hydra had sent him to finish the man, they were unable to give him a location. The soldier had located the target himself only to find the man had already passed from old age.

No questions were asked.

The mission was considered complete.

The body was disposed of and for quite some time, the soldier thought nothing of the castle like place that no one else knew of. It was a secret only he knew and he soon found himself seeking its solitude. A resting place between missions. A place to patch up. A place to hide when his mind was too loud, trying to escape from clutches he didn't understand.

It was the closest place he had to freedom.

The soldier pushed through the heavy wooden doors, entering the dark oak foyer. He stilled, torn between taking you down to the cellar or taking you to the rooms up in the master wing.

How could he chain something so soft.

How could he imprison something so delicate.

His feet began to move towards the large staircase before his mind could process anything, shifting to carry you in his arms as he made his way up to the west wing. He set you down gently onto the large bed with the soft sheets, careful not to stir you. He stared at your sleeping form, unmoving from his place as you softly snored, the choices of his actions beginning to plague his mind.

What was he to do with you now. Why hadn't he gotten rid of you.

He knew the rules; once his job was done, he was to return to the base but he hadn't completed the mission. He had been away for weeks and the longer he was away, the louder the screaming was. The voice of a young sergeant who fought bravely in the war. The pleading young man, scared like a child, trapped in the body of a killing machine. The cries of a little boy trying so hard to runaway from monsters that haunted him every single night. All trapped and begging to escape.

He'd let the professor live.

It was wrong of him.

He disobeyed his orders.

Or perhaps it was the right thing to do.

Though the soldier had been brainwashed, there were times he found himself caught in-between a state of control and chaos. His duties were to Hydra. He knew this was wrong. You shouldn't be here. His task was to continue their vision. He was their asset. He belonged to them.

His tourmiol continued. Why did he spare the professor. Why did he bring the girl and set her down on the softest bed out of all the rooms when he should have chained her in a cell. Exhaustion began to weigh on him but he didn't close his eyes. He didn't allow sleep to consume him. The soldier remained in place even as the sun rose. He watched as you stirred, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains, falling onto your face.

-

You blinked, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a fearful gasp escaping your lips when you saw him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. A thousand thoughts began to run through your mind at once as you sat up, a part of you surprised to find your hands and legs free from binds. You were atop a plush mattress on a large bed, the room itself surprisingly warm and quaint. Had you not been in a state of terror, you would have taken some time to appreciate the olive green walls and fine paintings that decorated the space as well as the well kept antique furniture.

"Please don't hurt me" You whispered, still disoriented from the night before.

"я не буду" [I won't] He replied, aware you didn't understand him. His lips twitched, all the words of English he wanted to speak dying in his mouth. His mind wouldn't allow it.

It wasn't required for this mission.

You stayed frozen in place while he said nothing else, walking off and closing the door behind him. Tears welled in your eyes as dread began to set in. This was your life now. He could kill you at any moment without warning. In fact, you didn't understand why he hadn't. From the rumours, you knew the soldier never took prisoners. You didn't know why you were spared; the only sliver of joy you had was that your father was alive. You thought about your him as you gathered yourself out of bed, deciding to make the best of your circumstances with the faintest hope that one day you'd be reunited with him again.

You inspected the room the soldier had put you in. There was a vanity across the bed. A walk in closet that only contained a few old sheets. You gasped as you entered the en suite bathroom, white marble tiles covering the floor, a large clawfoot tub, brass and gold accents decorated the handles of the cupboards.

The room was enchanting.

After splashing some water onto your face, you crept into the hallway, padding down to the staircase, surprised again at the beauty of the place. High ceilings. Dark wood. Crystal albeit dusty chandeliers. French doors. Original paintings. It was the type of place you'd imagine when you read fairytales. It would have been the type of place you'd dream to live in; one you'd only imagine in your wildest fantasies where the princess finds her prince. Such stories were only found in books.

You quietly explored the main floor of the mansion and avoiding the rooms which were locked shut. You didn't dare touch a thing, quickly retreating back to your room once you'd seen everything, familiarizing yourself with it's layout. The kitchen. A study. A living room. The hauntinly beautiful hallways. A door to the grounds in the back. You hadn't seen the soldier which both relieved and scared you.

Where did he disappear to?

That night, there was a knock at your door and when you opened it, a plate of warm food was left on a tray. Boiled carrots. Potatoes. A dinner roll. You hadn't even heard his footsteps down the hall. As you peered out of your room, it was empty without the slightest hint that anyone had been there seconds ago.

Where had he gone?

You hadn't realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite, scarfing down the rest in haste, placing the tray back in the hall. The next day was the same. You woke up to find a simple spread of breakfast outside of your room; toast and jam.

The soldier was a man of his word; if you were to be his captive, he had to keep you alive.

At least until he knew what to do with you...

Days had passed and you'd managed to avoid him, keeping to yourself and staying out of his way but you weren't able to avoid him forever.

-

The soldier had already heard you coming, pausing his cleaning as he waited for you to enter. The sight of your trembling form evoked something inside him.

You were scared. He didn't like it.

His mask remained on his face while his blue eyes peered at you, waiting for you to speak.

"I-I need clothes" Your voice was hardly a whisper, body shaking as you approached him, finding him in the study room, parts of his gun in hand. There was nothing wrong with the simple cotton dress you had on though it certainly wasn't comfortable to sleep in every night and you weren't able to wash and it dry within the same day. You needed at least one other set of something to wear. "Please"

He nodded without a word, resuming his cleaning while you retreated to your room. His brows furrowed as he thought about what you'd need. Perhaps it would be easier to return you and finish off the professor or get rid of you both-

No.

No.

He didn't want more blood on his hands.

The foods he stole were already a risk....where would he go for clothes?

-

The next morning, you found a fresh set of clothes left beside your tray of breakfast. You lifted the pile and brought it to your room, munching on the toast that had come with honey instead of jam for a change.

There was a red Henley and some sweatpants. A black t shirt and joggers. A few other basics for you to wear comfortably around the house. You couldn't help but giggle at the very large leather jacket he'd also left in case you felt cold even though there were already plenty of warm blankets. They were very clearly his own clothes but they were all washed and perfectly clean. You couldn't expect him to go shopping for you.

You threw off your dress, taking a long bath before drying off and slipping on the Henley and sweats. They were warm and soft, fitting loosely on your smaller frame, his soft scent of something distinctly him clinging onto the material. It was strange that it didn't bother you. Quite the opposite. It was pleasant, almost comforting.

You wondered about the man behind the mask and who he was. Such a dangerous man who was giving you the clothes off his back, feeding you and keeping you alive even though he'd killed hundreds of others. He was dangerous and yet he looked at you with such softness, you couldn't understand how he'd be capable of hurting anyone.

What was his story?

He hadn't chained you to the bed.

He hadn't locked you in your room.

You were free to go about where you liked.

Surely he wasn't all evil?

As you grew more accustomed to your living arrangement, you decided to inspect more of the kitchen. You hadn't been told you couldn't cook; even if the soldier didn't kill you, boredom eventually would. You needed something to pass the time and he had disappeared yet again.

You opened the fridge and pantries surprised to find a few fruits and vegetables stocked up. An untouched sack of flour and bag of sugar sat at the bottom of the shelves. Who knew the winter soldier enjoyed plums so much? There were a few pots and pans as well as basic kitchen utensils. You didn't need much to make a simple meal, careful not to make a mess as you began to peel some carrots.

-

The soldier blinked as he entered the house, the smell of food wafting throughout, a smell he hadn't come across in a long time.

Home.

There was a pot of stew left on the stove along with a pie left to cool on the counter. His eyes widened at the way his stomach grumbled; it had been years since he'd truly felt hunger. He ate for sustenance. Raw, uncooked, at most boiled food to keep him going. When he was with Hydra, he was fed with a tube.

Just basic nutrients to keep him alive.

He hadn't had a home cooked meal in years.

-

You woke up the next morning to find a pastry at your door instead of toast. When you wandered into the kitchen, you smiled at the tiny crumbs left pie tin and the now empty pot of stew. There were also newly stocked ingredients waiting for you; berries, potatoes, somehow even a whole chicken. You got to work, deciding to try something new each time; each night a warm meal awaited the soldier along with something sweet at the end.

He continued to bring you breakfast but there were only so many different pastries and cakes he could nick, besides they didn't compare to yours.

It wasn't enough. The soldier frowned at the strange feelings he had within himself.

He wanted to do something for you.

He wasn't sure what. He smuggled a handful of cookies you'd baked that morning into his room before removing his mask and savoring each once. He didn't leave a crumb behind, licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips while his mind wandered. You didn't have to cook for him. In fact you had every right to try and escape from him but you never did. He recalled the number of bookshelves that lined your home, after all he'd taken note of every detail as part of his mission.

You liked to read.

-

You sat up when you heard a knock at your door, the soldier waiting on the other side. He looked at you with a softness you hadn't seen previously, turning around and walking down the hall, hoping you'd follow him.

You stayed a few feet behind, trailing after him as he led you to the living room, leading you to the large bookshelf. He wordlessly stood by it, the strange sensation of nervousness and anxiety bubbling within him when you looked at what he wanted to show you.

Would you like it? You looked so unsure, scared. Perhaps you wanted to be free, you wanted to leave, you-

"M-May I?"

He blinked hearing your voice, nodding, watching your eyes light up as you scanned the various book titles. Gasps of joy and little squeals of delight escaped your lips as you came across stories you adored.

That wasn't the only thing that made his heart beat faster. Seeing you in his clothes stirred something in him. You were dressed in his red Henley, the hem reaching mid thigh. He was pulled away from admiring you as you squeaked, seeing one of your favorite books from when you were a little girl, a first edition no less.

"How did you get all these" You were in absolute awe, lost in your own world while he pondered how he came to own such treasures. Perhaps he was always a soldier gone rogue. His missions came with a side of thievery when he'd see something that would catch his eye. Something that would spark a memory of sorts, such as an old book he'd seen as he passed an vintage bookstore. Soon, the shelves of the mansion were filled with books and trinkets he'd collected. A part of his brain would nearly break itself to try and connect to the things he'd collect, only for the memories to fail to fall into place.

His mind felt like a pile of shreds from different cloths; pieces that would never fit together again. His little treasures were the closest he'd ever get to remembering, a few sparks from the past that would forever be disconnected.

-

Ever since the soldier had shown you the shelves of books, you'd left your room more often, spending more time reading after cooking. In a strange way you also began to trust the very masked man who had taken you away. You didn't worry about him hurting you. You no longer worried about running into him. He hardly spoke, nothing more than a few words of Russian. He hadn't demanded you stay locked in your room, so why did you?

You picked up one of your favorite books, deciding to read outside in the garden, in need of some fresh air. You hadn't taken much time to look at the outside of the house, pausing as you opened the doors that entered the grounds. It was strangely beautiful, especially considering the assassin who resided in it. For such a dark soul, nature still continued to flourish around it. Tall, overgrown hedge fences surrounded the backyard while weeping willows and bushes of flowers shaded the stone paths that led to a fountain in the very center. You found a comfortable spot under the tree, settling onto the cool grass, the scent of spring calming you as you turned to the first page.

-

The soldier trudged through the doorway, surprised at the way his appetite had grown since you'd started cooking. His body which was used to sustaining itself on the bare minimum now rumbled through the day. He'd find his mind wandering to your pies and craving the comfort of the soup you'd make. The food was set in the kitchen but you were nowhere to be found. He walked past your room, knocking on the door, only to be met with silence.

Where did you go? Did you run away?

He knew something was wrong when he felt his heart sink because he couldn't find you. He couldn't remember the last time his heart felt anything other than emptiness. It was more than just you escaping.

He was worried about you.

He took longer strides as he searched for you with purpose, fingers already itching to reach towards his gun, deciding to first check the grounds in the back. His heart settled when he saw the doors to the garden left ajar, finding you nestled in the shade, curled up in the grass with a book.

You were safe. You hadn't run away.

Again he was left stunned and unable to move. You were the final piece in the puzzle of the garden; you fit there like the perfect flower. He'd seen the garden 100 times before and it had never looked so beautiful.

Not until now.

Roses and daisies grew in abundance but you were the prettiest thing there. You were meant to be there; a soft, delicate, flower.

"цветок"

You set down the book you were reading, looking up to see the soldier peering down at you. You hadn't heard him coming as he appeared before you with the silence of a ghost.

"цветок" He repeated, gazing at you before looking towards a daisy. He kneeled, plucking one and handing it to you, "цветок. мягкий, как ты" [Flower. Soft, like you]. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you intently, blinking with an innocence you hadn't seen before. He looked almost...shy?

"Thank you" You whispered, stroking the petal of the flower he gave you. You didn't understand why you longed for him to stay as he went back inside, your curiosity about him growing with each passing day.

It went on like this.

Most days, you would spend your time exploring the trinkets the soldier collected, staying out of his way while he disappeared into the forest to do things you didn't pry into. Each night you knew he would return, hearing the heavy creak of the doors open during the darkest hours. You'd hear the quiet sound of clinking cutlery and then the soft sound of his bedroom door shut.

Except tonight.

You set down your book hearing the sound of heavy boots dragging down the hall, quite different from the silence the soldier usually moved with. A sense of dread washed over you as you debated on staying put, something telling you to lock the door, hide, something-

"What do we have here" The click of your door opening sent shivers down your spine, your blood running cold as a man strode in, a metal mask covering his face showing nothing but his eyes. You wanted to scream but your voice was stuck in your throat, you felt safe with the soldier, this man was not the same, he lunged towards you, knife in hand, the blade swiping towards your neck, "The soldiers little pet"-

"DON'T TOUCH HER" A growl shook the window as you hugged your knees to yourself waiting for the knife to plunge but it never came. You gasped as the man was ripped away, the flash of silver gleaming as the soldier grabbed him and hauled him away, shutting the door behind him.

"You're weak. You were supposed to kill him"

"So this is what's been keeping you"

"Kill her and come back to us. That's an order"

"Rumlow-

"Kill her. They're nothing more than collateral damage, end them, желание-

You didn't dare move, tears spilling down your cheeks as you heard the sounds of a struggle growing further and further away, eventually melting into silence.

He saved you.

You heard him return, still frozen in fear but the sound of a pained whimper pulled you out of bed. You peered into the hall, eyes widening in horror seeing a trail of blood staining the floors leading to his room, streaks of crimson smeared onto the wall. You didn't think twice as you dashed out of your room to his, your body moving faster than your mind could comprehend as you let yourself in.

Your heart continued to race seeing the blood lead to the washroom where he stood with a needle in hand, beginning to sew a gash on his side across his ribs. His bloodied tactical gear was thrown on the floor though his mask still remained hoping to silence himself as he attempted to take care of himself.

He hissed in pain, piercing his skin while his head began to spin, multiple wounds needing attention, the blood loss starting to take its toll.

"Let me" you hesitated to touch him, going against your better judgement when you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand away. The soldier shook his head, fighting the way his body craved for something more gentle, more caring, more loving than the jagged and painful stitches he was giving himself.

"I won't hurt you, soldat" you looked in his eyes with such sincerity, for a moment he thought he'd ask you to be his girl.

Such a doll...

One he'd take dancing...

Call you darlin' with that Brooklyn drawl...

He blinked at the fleeting memory, a whimper escaping his lips when you dabbed his gash with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. You blew across the cut to soothe the pain before taking the needle and carefully stitching him up with a feather light touch.

"There" You whispered after taking care of the awful injuries that littered his body, leading out of the bathroom to lie down so he could rest. You didn't dare ask what had happened as you looked around the room; though there was a large bed with the softest sheets and finest materials but the makeshift pallet on the floor was clearly where he chose to sleep at night. He collapsed from exhaustion, falling into a deep sleep while you remained by his side.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest, occasionally glancing over the dressings you'd put to see if blood had seeped through. You couldn't bring yourself to leave him alone, only getting up to see if you could find a sheet to drape cover yourself with in the cold room. As you removed the blanket that covered the bed, something caught your eye in the mostly untouched room.

A wooden box, carefully tucked away in the furthest corner of the room. There wasn't any dust on it, compared to the other pieces of furniture that were never used. It was something he very clearly wanted to keep a secret. His other treasures that were out in the open on the shelf were different from this.

Even the soldier had secrets.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you made your way to the corner, lifting the box as silently as you could so you didn't wake him, inspecting its contents.

Newspaper articles, some decades old.

Old photographs.

One of a young man.

The eyes.

Those blue eyes you'd become so familiar with.

James Buchanan Barnes.

A brave soldier who fought in the war. A young man, no, a boy, drafted to war, his life ripped away from him, leaving him for dead in an icy forest. You blinked back tears at the innocence the young Sergeants eyes held, bright and heroic, hoping to help in a fight that wasn't his. Scribbles on scrap pieces of paper read "I am James Buchanan Barnes" repeatedly.

Your could feel your heart break into tiny little fragments as you pieced together what happened to the boy from Brooklyn, he had his whole life ahead of him but-

A pained scream tore from his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut as you knelt by his side again, brows furrowed together. You looked over his injuries, everything was still in place but he sounded like he was being tortured. He tossed around, his screams melting into sobs, pleading for someone to stop.

"James?" You hesitated to use his real name, your hushed voice made him flinch in his sleep but it wasn't enough to pull him as he begged for the painto end. He didn't want to lose his memories again. He wanted to remember. Please?

"You're alright James" You cooed softly, running your fingers through his locks while tears continued to stream down his face, lost in a nightmare. "You're not alone"

You were careful not to scared him awake, your gentle ministrations soothing him, his cries coming to a stop. You wiped away the remnants of tears that fell against his cheek, some slipping beneath the mask he refused to remove. You didn't have in you to take it off, not without asking him first. His soft snores filled the room once again as the sun began to rise.

-

He stirred feeling a strange warmth surrounding his body blinking in confusion when he found soft sheets draped over him. The usual sting he'd feel after stitching himself up was nearly non existent. He ran his fingers along the gash, the neat little sutures still in place, covered with a bandage to protect the area. Bits and pieces of the night came to him in waves.

Running into his captors. Evading them. Escaping. The bloodshed. The weapons. The injuries. The pain.

However, there was also softness. Such tenderness. The touch of an angel he'd only be able to imagine in his wildest dreams that would never come true. Not for someone like him. Such sweetness. God, he'd missed it. He missed what such love and care felt like. It was so foreign to him. He was so used to the cold. Razor sharp, jagged edges. He'd forgotten so many things but the longer he kept to himself, the more that came back to him.

You called him by his name. He was sure of it. In the muddled fog of nightmares, he was sure he heard an angel call.

He knew he was in no condition to move or get you breakfast but the delicious smell of your cooking wafted through the halls letting him know it was okay for him to rest. He closed his eyes, flinching at the few prickles of pain he felt in his head.

You were there.

You'd take care of him.

He couldn't remember everything just yet but surely the puzzle pieces would fall into place soon.

-

"NO" The sound of the soldiers pained cry made you drop the book you were reading in your room, running off to find him. He'd fallen asleep after eating what you made for him that evening; you were sure he was getting better. He knelt on the floor, sweat covering his body as he gripped his hair, pulling from the roots. He felt another sharp piercing pain in his head, fleeting memories of things he didn't understand all flooding back at once.

You rushed to his side, taking his hands into yours to keep him from hurting himself. His eyes shot up, tears threatening to spill over, all the things he thought were lost forever coming back together.

He was a Sergeant.

A soldier.

A young man.

One who loved to go dancing.

One who wanted to help others.

Hydra turned him into a beast but you brought him back.

There was always something about you.

His sweet flower.

He relaxed feeling your soft fingers trace against his palms in hopes of grounding him, giving both his flesh and metal hands equal affection. He gently pulled his right hand away to remove the mask, letting you see all of him.

"Soldat?" You whispered, hesitantly brining your hand up to his scruffy cheek. He pressed his hand against yours, leaning into the warmth of your touch, he never wanted it to end.

"цветок" [flower] he whispered back, your eyes widening hearing the precious name he had just for you, "It's me, flower"

"James?" You knew it was no longer the soldier speaking, this was the little boy from Brooklyn, his piercing blue eyes now full of warmth and light.

"Your father, I have to take you home, flower I'm so sorry-" dread began to consume him as he realized how long he'd taken you for, trading one life for another, how could he-

"James, breathe" You held his face in your hands, wiping away the tears that began to fall, your hand coming down the rest against his erratic heart, "It wasn't your fault, I-I read what happened to you, you were taken, it was never you, you're a good person" You soothed his aching heart but it didn't ease how heavy it felt. Every part of him wanted to beg for you to run away, so far away from him so you could be home again yet his arms moved on their own, wrapping you up and holding you close, you fit so perfectly with him.

"I'm still a broken man, цветок" Bucky whispered with a sad smile, holding you with such care as you curled up in his lap. "I don't think I deserve to hold something as sweet as you"

"You're not broken, you deserve this and more" You cooed, inhaling his soft scent, your nose brushing against the column of his neck.

"You took care of me, flower" Bucky held you tighter, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, feeling safe for the first time in years, home had never felt closer.

"And you took care of me" Your fingers moved to card through his hair, pulling his face away so he'd look at you.

"I took you with me, doll" He couldn't shake the fact that he'd taken you from your father, first intending to kill him and then taking you in his place. "I didn't give you a choice, you should be home" The guilt ate him from the inside, if he'd been himself, he would have never-

"And you still protected me with your life" You whispered, your forehead resting against his.

"And I always will" Bucky promised, his lips brushing against yours. He meant it from the bottom of his soul, he'd always protect you no matter where you were. It didn't matter that he didn't want you to leave, that he wished you could stay, he knew you belonged elsewhere. He'd still always make sure you were safe. Exhaustion began to pull at him, his eyes growing heavy as his body continued to fight what Hydra wanted him to do and the man he really was.

"Sleep, Jamie" You pulled him down to lay on your chest, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead and for the first time in years, he slept soundly without a nightmare.

Over the next few days, you continued to nurse the soldier back to health, hushing him each time he plead for you to go, insisting he'd be okay to manage on his own.

"My body will heal, I promise, you don't have to do all this for me, let me take you home-

"Once you're all better. I'll write to him so he knows I'm safe" You pressed a finger to his pink lips before going back to tucking him in bed. It was true that the cuts had all cleared up exceptionally quicker than normal but you could see the mental exhaustion that plagued him each day.

He found a way to get in touch with your father without alerting anyone in Hydra from finding him and while your father graciously forgave him with understanding, nothing felt easier. He promised to return you home as soon as it was safe but the longer he spent with you, the more he selfishly wished for it to last forever. He promised your father he'd take care of you in every way possible but he knew it was truly you taking care of him.

He'd sleep soundly when you were near, falling asleep quickly when you'd read to him, sometimes softly playing with his hair so he'd relax. The few times he'd been alone, the awful memories would come flooding back leaving him confused and disoriented. It broke your heart hearing him cry, the soldier who was nothing but a killing machine truly an innocent man on the inside, a prisoner of his own mind.

You'd comfort him every single time, every moment more intimate than the next. It started with your soothing voice, sitting by his bed where you'd call his name, your fingers caressing the scruff of his beard, wiping away his tears. Then the nights came where you crawled into bed with him, helping him fall asleep with his head on your lap only to wake up with your limbs tangled together.

Then he started to hold you before he was asleep. He held you tightly while telling you stories about things he could remember. Things that made him smile. That his nickname was Bucky. You would do the same. You told him about all the things your father taught you. He'd start to kiss you goodnight. Innocently with a peck to the top of your head.

Sometimes your cheek.

He so badly wanted to kiss your lips, stopping himself when he felt his stomach stir, especially when your sweet doe eyes looked up at him. When he cuddled you, his arms would wrap around your body, his hands finding their way to the hem of the Henley you wore. His henley. His fingers would slip up to feel your skin, knowing such an angel was real grounded him. You'd do the same, tracing over his scars, neither of you openly talking about the growing tension between you both each day.

-

"Will you read to me?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder while you stirred some honey into the tea you were making. You giggled at his needy cuddles, his much larger form practically engulfing you from behind. "Please"

"Who'd have thought such a strong, scary soldier would want bedtime stories" you cooed, letting him carry you away to his room, making a stop at the bookshelf first to pick out a new story.

He settled against the headboard with you tucked in his lap, relaxing at you made yourself comfy between his thighs. Your words had an affect on him he couldn't describe, no longer paying attention to what you were saying and instead watching the movement of your lips. Your eyes darting across the pages. Your body pressed against his.

The butterflies started again.

His stomach stirred.

He tried to adjust himself, pulling you into a hug to calm himself down, ignoring the way he wished he could have more.

"You alright, Jamie?" you asked, feeling his squirming, his eyes growing wide as if he'd been caught red handed. He shook his head, insisting you continue reading, God he didn't know what to do with himself.

He fidgeted again, this time trying to keep you off the tightness growing more and more, you made it so difficult for him-

"Are you sure you're okay bub?"

"I don't remember much but-I-I know I want you closer, flower" His voice was shy, his adams apple nervously bobbing in his neck as he shifted, unable to hide the hardness between his legs. His mind was a mess, fragments of love and intimacy struggling to piece themselves together yet he knew enough to want to hold you close.

He wanted to feel your soft skin on his.

He wanted to kiss you in places that would make your cheeks warm.

Where you'd want to cover yourself but let him have you, just him.

He wanted to feel your hands touch him everywhere. He wouldn't flinch at your delicate ministrations, he'd give all of himself to you. He'd trust you in his most vulnerable state, feeling things he hadn't for years, so heavy between his legs.

"How much closer, Jamie" you couldn't meet his eyes, gripping onto his t-shirt instead, setting the book on the nightstand, now all your attention on him.

"You know, angel" He let his nose bury into your hair, the blush on his cheeks travelling to his neck. He couldn't bring himself to actually say what he wanted, hesitantly moving his hands to your hips instead, slipping up your shirt to hold your waist. "Can-can I kiss you?"

He could hardly recognize himself, nervous beyond comprehension, his heart racing when you nodded, cupping his cheek to look at you. He leaned down to press his lips to yours.

"More" You let your body melt into his, his tongue lacing with yours, deepening the kiss. He didn't pull away until he desperately needed air, no longer able to contain his arousal.

"M'sorry angel, s'been so long, my body's not the same-

"Don't. Don't you dare, I adore you just like this Sergeant" He sucked in a breath as you toyed with the hem of his shirt, nodding after a moment letting you take it off. You kissed every scar on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder where metal met flesh, "You're the most handsome, beautiful man," You kissed his neck making him hiss, your tummy jumping at the feeling of his erection now pressed right against you, "You deserve all of this"

"Can I see you, please?" He undressed you with such care as if he was unwrapping the most precious present, first laying you down before slipping your top off. You wordlessly undressed each other until there was nothing left to take off going right back to wrapping your body with his.

"You're the softest thing I've ever touched" He whispered, loving how you felt, your thigh hitched over his hip, your breasts pressed against his bare chest, your soft tummy against the hard planes of his abs, your hands rubbing up and down his spine, oh God your silky most sacred parts absolutely soaking his length. His body moved on its own, rutting up to chase more, his cock slotting so perfectly with his flushed tip rubbing against your clit.

The desperate moan he let out made you gush, seeing how lost he was in chasing how good you felt with the stutter of his hips.

"M'so hard" He whined, hugging you tightly, "Please angel, do something" It was the most delicious torture. You pulled away from his hold wanting to give him every bit of loving he deserved, giving his body the pleasure it had been deprived of. You shuffled to kneel between his legs, his eyes growing wide, your face so dangerously close to where he was achingly hard. There was no way, you weren't going to- your lips pressed a gently kiss to his frenulum and the tears started, you wouldn't give him more than this-

"Baby, oh God, no, no, I can't angel, oh God-OHH" He cried, his body splayed wide for you, bach arching off the bed as you took his swollen cockhead into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his circles, licking every bit of his essence that dripped out. Your face was between his legs, his cock was in your mouth, you were suckling off his most sensitive parts, how could he not spread his thighs apart further for you. He'd never been so open or vulnerable, letting you play and toy with his cock, his tears soaking the pillow at his balls started to pull towards his body, it couldn't be over so soon-

"Sweet baby, please, please-" He pulled you off his cock, bringing you up to smash his lips against yours, his thick length slapping against his tummy. He could have sworn he was close to cumming just tasting himself on your tongue. "Can-please I want to-" He scrambled to lay you against the pillows as you squeaked at the way he manhandled you in desperation, "please"

He was between your thighs, sighing with heart eyes as he carefully spread your folds with his fingers, taking his time smearing around your slick, your throbbing clit begging for his mouth. He latched on like a baby, nursing with the most needy gurgles, your gasp melting into a moan making his eyes roll back.

He couldn't believe he had his mouth on his pretty angel, his tongue toying with the precious parts between her legs, letting him taste her, drinking up her nectar, feeding him in the best way possible.

"I-oh-slow down baby, please, M'gonna- You gasped, feeling surges of pleasure already pulsing as he flicked his tongue with precision, his arms wrapping around your thighs, tossing them over his wide shoulders.

"Mph, cum" he whined before diving in for more, greedily humping and grinding against the mattress, how was he supposed to last like this.

"Want-want to feel you, please" You begged, needing him inside you, giving you something thick and hard to cum on. He didn't waste a second, shakily clambering back on top of you, nervously positioning himself at your entrance.

"You sure, sweet girl? I-it's been so long"

"I trust you" You pulled him down to kiss his reddened nose making him blush, letting out the breath he was holding as he started to push. You both moaned together as he buried himself all the way, stilling once he was flush against you, his orgasm already so close to shooting at the base of his cock.

"Hng, I needed this angel" He didn't move and you didn't need him to, just the feeling of him stretching and filling you fulfilling something you couldn't describe. You loved the feeling of you both being connected in the most intimate way, joined as one, it felt so right like he was finally where he was meant to be. Like he'd found his everything.

Your thighs moved to hug his waist, your arms around his shoulders. He drew his hips back and thrusted forward gentle, the gasp escaping your lips urging him to keep going. He started to move at a steady pace, bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning them against the bed.

"I love you-even if I have no right, I love you so much" Bucky lost himself to you, his hips moving at a slow grind, letting every inch of his cock fill and caress your walls, "You showed me love when I least deserved it"

"Fuck, I love you too!" You cried out, the curls at the base of his cock rubbing your clit, sending you higher and higher. "Oh, James!"

"My God, the way you say my name when m'inside you, say it again baby, please" He started to move faster on his own accord, primal urges starting to take over as he began to chase his pleasure and yours.

"Please, James, feels-feels so good"

"Gonna make me cum so hard, the things y'do to me baby, drives me crazy, wanna be like this for the rest of my life, making love to you and nothing else, swear this is all I want"

"James, gonna-gonna cum"

"Cum with me angel, all over my cock baby, cum on it, wanna feel it, please give it to me, I need it. Need your sweet cream all over me, fuck-yeah-jus like that-" You clenched around his cunt, his name dripping from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That was all it took as he tucked his face right against your neck, holding you tight as he trembled, it was so much,

"M'cumming!!" His sob was muffled as his cock throbbed, warm streams of his cum pumping you full, his ass stuttering with each jerk of his hips. "So-so much for you, s'all for you angel"

Bucky made love to you everywhere, not one place left without him taking you apart to his heart's content, including the garden. The story you were reading was long forgotten as he took you under the shade of the tree, the long wispy branches of the willow tree hiding you from the rest of the world.

The summer sun cocooned you in a blanket of warmth as clothes were all tossed aside leaving you both bare on the sheet you'd spread on the grass, the sounds of the breeze, the rustle of the bushes and your moans blending in so perfectly with his rhythmic thrusts.

"Beautiful" he whispered against your cheek, pulling away so he could look at every bit of you, "So beautiful for me like this"

"Jamie, stop" You grew bashful, you knew no one could see you in your secluded spot so deep in the forest but you still felt so vulnerable, spread out naked with just his body covering you, shamelessly taking his cock while the afternoon sun hung in the sky.

"S'just us baby, just you and me, don't worry" He purred, bringing your arms up, holding your wrists in his metal arm while his flesh hand came down to caress your face. "We're not doing anything wrong darling, m'showing you how much I love you, how good you make me feel, yeah?"

"Yeaah" Your voice melted into a breathy whine as he started to move with more purpose, his warm breath fanning against your face.

"Lookit how pretty you are sweet girl, my pretty flower, you were meant to be here baby, feels so right, just like this"

Out of all the stories and poetry you'd read to him, this was what Bucky saw as true art. He'd seen the finest paintings around the world in the richest houses, guarded by the highest security. He'd seen nature's most incredible wonders with the tallest trees, the sweetest flora and nothing, absolutely nothing, would top how gorgeous you were, bare, on the grass, him filling you up, it was euproic.

The image was etched in his brain, he'd treasure it forever. Your shy moans. The clench of your cunt. The way he filled you up and kept his cock in you even after it was soft. The way you cuddled and kissed in a post sex haze, listening to the sounds of the forest. He could have cried at the way you fell asleep in his arms, so trusting for him to keep you safe.

This was all he needed.

He took care of you, keeping you protected while he did his best to eradicate Hydra with you to patch him up each time he came home. As soon as it was safe, he took you right home and under the care of your father, he healed from the words that held him captive.

It didn't take long for your home to be filled with the sounds of tiny feet mixed with the sounds of science experiments gone wrong; your little babies, their daddy and their papa getting up to mischief at all hours.

"Careful, flower" Bucky shook his head, running towards you as you waddled into the living room with an expression of concern on your face, cocking an eyebrow when you saw your son looking up at you with bug eyed goggles matching his papa.

Bucky came to steady you, his hands coming to wrap around your growing belly while your father and son continued to tinker away at a new creation.

"How are my princesses" He cooed while you huffed, still wondering what they were doing.

"We're both wondering what you're going here James"

"Papa's building me a rocket-

"A bicycle! Just a bicycle darling, go sit, son why don't you take her for a walk" You father ushered you and Bucky out, sending a wink to his grandson.

"A bicycle my foot" You shook your head while Bucky took you to the kitchen, setting a pot of water, ready to dote on you as usual.

"He gets that side of him from you, love" Bucky chuckled, coming down to kiss your belly, resting his head there. "Just wait until she's here too"

"You're a menace, Sergeant"

"You married me, darling" Bucky pouted making you giggle, cupping his face to kiss his jutting lips.

"and I love every bit of you"

"I love you more, pretty girl"

You would always be his flower.

[ptolomia]

he’s me

[barnesnatts]

Sebastian stan in los angeles magazine leading man party🫶🏻🧡

[imdonnalynn]

If it is ever confirmed this is actually what happened I will take back all the shit I've talked about how bad Steve's character arc ended in Endgame and it will re-invigorate my once immeasurable love for Steve Rogers Captain America.

Before Endgame I was an avid Steve/Nat shipper in any capacity I could conjure (also indulged in Steve/Bucky/Nat) they were one of the best pairings chemistry wise in the Infinity Saga.

But to find out Steve got Nat back, decided to stay with her, grew old together and he refuses to let anyone know their little secret. And it's not because he's embarrassed but because he knows she deserved it as much as him.

Damn this could get my hopes up!

(Not my work or image)

[goldensunflowe-r]

Sir! Let me sharpen my claws on your back! 😩

[roseyreveries]

Found

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part One <— click!

Summary: After waking up in the infirmary from your run-in with the Winter Soldier, you go to check in on Bucky despite what Fury tells you.

CW: Injury, Angst

Directory

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I slowly came to, the faint hum of hospital equipment and the sterile scent of antiseptic filling my senses. My head was pounding, and my body felt like it had been through a grinder. I blinked against the bright light, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

Nick Fury stood by my bedside, his gaze fixed on me with a blend of concern and determination. As I registered his presence, panic surged through me.

“Where’s Bucky?” I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. My heart raced, my thoughts spinning out of control. “Where is he? What happened?”

Fury’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a brief flicker of hesitation in his eye. “You need to calm down,” he said firmly, his voice steady but carrying an edge. “You’ve been out for a while. You need to rest.”

“No!” I protested weakly, trying to push myself up despite the sharp pain that shot through my side. “I need to know—”

“Rest,” Fury cut me off, his tone brokering no argument. “We’re dealing with it. But right now, you need to focus on getting better.”

My panic was mounting, but Fury’s authoritative presence and the weight of exhaustion made it hard to fight him. I collapsed back onto the bed, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. Fury’s hand gently but firmly pushed me back down, his gaze softening slightly.

“Please,” he said, his voice softening but still commanding. “Just rest. We’ll talk about it later. I promise.”

Reluctantly, I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. My mind raced with worry, but I knew I didn’t have the strength to argue further. I’ll just wait for him to leave and then find out myself.

Once Fury finally left, a heavy silence settled over the room. I could barely contain my anxiety, the need to know where Bucky was gnawing at me. Summoning every ounce of strength I had, I turned my head toward the small, discreet speaker mounted on the wall.

“Jarvis,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “How far away is Fury?”

There was a brief pause before Jarvis’s calm, reassuring voice responded. “Director Fury is currently in a debriefing meeting on another floor. You have a small window of time to move if you wish.”

My heart pounded in my chest. I needed to find Bucky. Struggling, I pushed through the pain, forcing myself to sit up. The room spun slightly, but I gritted my teeth and reached for the crutches propped beside the bed. My hands shook as I grabbed them and used them to slowly pull myself to a standing position.

With a labored breath, I took a step toward the door. “Jarvis,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper, “where is Bucky?”

“He is currently being held in one of the containment cells,” Jarvis replied. “The cells are reinforced glass, designed to prevent any unauthorized access or escape.”

My eyes widened, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. “Glass cells?”

“Yes,” Jarvis confirmed. “They are located in the secure holding area of the facility.”

My heart dropped at the thought of Bucky being confined like that. With a deep breath, I forced myself to move, using the crutches for support as I made my way out of the room. Every step felt like an eternity, but my resolve to see Bucky and understand what was happening pushed me forward.

Using the crutches to steady myself, I navigated the hallways with a sense of urgency. The hospital staff and agents were busy with their own tasks, and I managed to slip past them unnoticed, my badge tucked securely in my hand.

When I reached the entrance to the secure holding area, I took a deep breath. The heavy metal door loomed before me, and I fumbled for my badge. Fortunately, my top-level security access made this part easy. I swiped the badge through the reader, and the door clicked open with a heavy, metallic groan.

I pushed through the door, the cool air of the holding area hitting me like a gust of wind. The room was stark and cold, with several reinforced glass cells lined up against the wall. I moved as quickly as I could, my crutches clacking on the polished floor, until I spotted Bucky’s cell.

There he was, restrained inside a glass enclosure, his face hidden in shadows. The sight of him— isolated and vulnerable— made my chest tighten with a mixture of relief and anguish. I approached the cell, my hands trembling as I reached the transparent barrier.

I hurried to the control panel beside Bucky’s cell, my crutches clacking loudly against the floor. I swiped my badge through the reader, and the lock mechanism hummed before the glass door slid open with a metallic whoosh.

Grimacing against the pain, I hobbled into the cell, each step a jolt of discomfort. Bucky remained seated on the floor, his back rigid and his gaze fixed on the ground, as if he were trying to shut out the world around him.

“Bucky,” I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

He flinched slightly at the sound of my voice but didn’t look up. I approached him slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle him.

“Please, look at me,” I pleaded, kneeling beside him with my crutches propped against the wall.

Bucky finally raised his eyes, his expression a mix of pain and confusion. I could see the conflict in his gaze, the remnants of the battle he had fought against whatever had controlled him. My heart ached seeing him like this.

“Hey, I’m here,” I said gently, reaching out to touch his arm, “you’re okay. You’re safe now.”

Bucky’s eyes softened, but he remained silent, his body still tense. I could sense the weight of his guilt and fear, and it only deepened my resolve to help him. I looked around the cell, searching for any signs of what might have caused his distress, but there was nothing visible.

Desperation clawed at me. I gently placed my hands on Bucky’s shoulders, trying to steady him. “It’s going to be okay,” I said softly, my voice trembling with emotion. Without waiting for a response, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. His body was tense against mine, but I pressed his head into my chest, holding him close.

I could feel his breath against my neck, shallow and uneven. The sound of his heartbeat was a harsh reminder of how much we both needed this moment. I crouched down painfully, my crutches clattering to the floor as I positioned myself so I could hold his face in my hands.

With gentle fingers, I lifted his chin and looked into his eyes, trying to offer him as much reassurance as I could. “Look at me,” I said softly. “I’m right here. Everyone is okay.”

Bucky’s eyes were filled with a mix of relief and residual fear. He seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he took in my presence. I brushed a thumb across his cheek, trying to convey every ounce of my reassurance and support.

For a moment, he allowed himself to lean into the comfort, his body slightly trembling as he fought against the remnants of whatever control had gripped him. The connection between us was a fragile but vital lifeline, and I held onto it with everything I had.

As I held Bucky close, trying to offer him comfort, he looked up at me with a confused, pained expression. “On the highway,” he murmured, his voice raw and uncertain. “You said you loved me.”

The words hit me like a wave, and my heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. I gently cupped his face, my fingers brushing away the stray tears that had started to fall. “I did,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “I meant every word.”

Bucky’s eyes searched mine, his confusion giving way to a glimmer of understanding. “But… why?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “After everything that’s happened, how can you still…”

“Because I care about you,” I answered, my voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions. “No matter what’s happened or what you’ve been through, that hasn’t changed. You’re important to me, and I’m not going to abandon you now.”

Bucky seemed to struggle with his thoughts, the conflict still evident in his eyes. I could see him trying to reconcile the actions he’d been forced to commit with the person he truly was. “I… I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of his remorse.

Moved by the depth of his confusion and the strength of my feelings, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. The kiss was tender at first but quickly became a desperate, passionate exchange. Bucky responded with equal fervor, his kiss a mix of longing and regret. Despite the intensity, he was careful not to touch me too forcefully, his movements gentle and restrained.

The connection between us was raw and emotional, a silent conversation of love and pain. When we finally broke apart, Bucky’s eyes were filled with a tumult of emotions— fear, sorrow, and deep remorse.

“No,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I can’t. I’ll hurt you again. You should go.”

My heart sank at his words, but I could see the sincerity and fear in his eyes. “Bucky, no,” I said, trying to hold onto him despite the pain in his voice. “I’m not leaving you. I want to help you through this.”

He looked at me with a mix of frustration and tenderness, the internal battle evident on his face. “It’s not safe for you here,” he insisted, his voice breaking. “Look at what I did to you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I shook my head firmly. “I’m not afraid,” I said, my voice steady despite the tears. “I’m here because I care about you, and I’m going to stay by your side until we get through this. Please don’t push me away.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped slightly, his expression a mix of relief and resignation. He seemed to accept the truth in my words, though the fear of causing harm remained in his eyes. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Especially not by me,” he whispered, his voice filled with vulnerability.

As the tension between us softened, a fragile silence settled over the cell. The emotional weight of the moment seemed to draw us closer, and I could feel the intensity of our connection. Without breaking eye contact, I leaned in again, closing the distance between us.

Bucky met me halfway, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was both urgent and tender. The kiss was a mixture of passion and relief, a silent affirmation of our feelings amid the chaos. Bucky’s touch was gentle, his movements careful as he held me close, trying not to hurt me despite the intensity of his emotions.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer as our kiss deepened. The world outside the cell seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of us in this moment of raw intimacy. Every touch, every brush of our lips conveyed the depth of our connection and the desperation to hold onto each other.

Eventually, we pulled away, both of us breathless and a little disoriented. Bucky’s eyes were soft and full of unspoken words, but the fear and guilt were still evident. I could see the struggle within him, the desire to protect me clashing with his own pain and remorse.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I repeated softly, my voice a gentle promise.

Bucky’s gaze remained locked on mine, a mixture of hope and despair in his eyes. For now, the kiss had reaffirmed our bond and given us both a moment of solace amid the uncertainty. We had a long road ahead, but the strength of our connection would help us face whatever came next.

Just as the tension between us began to settle, a soft but pointed cough broke through the silence. I startled, pulling back from Bucky to see Natasha standing in the corner of the cell area, arms crossed and a bemused look on her face. She looked completely healed and composed, as if she hadn’t been injured at all during the attack.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy moment,” Natasha remarked, raising an eyebrow. “Hate to interrupt, but we’ve got some things to discuss.”

My heart sank as reality came crashing back in. I glanced back at Bucky, who had already pulled away, his expression hardening again as he stared at the floor. Reluctantly, I stood up, grabbing my crutches and giving his hand a final squeeze before turning towards Natasha.

“I’ll be back,” I whispered to Bucky, my voice soft but filled with determination.

I stepped out of the cell with my crutches, feeling the sting of leaving him behind. With a heavy heart, I closed the glass door, hearing the lock click back into place. Bucky’s eyes followed me, and the separation felt like a fresh wound.

Natasha watched silently as I secured the cell, her expression unreadable. She gestured for me to follow her, and I nodded, trying to shake off the lingering emotions from my time with Bucky.

As we walked down the hallway, Natasha glanced over at me, her face softening slightly. “He’s going to be alright, you know,” she said, her voice quieter, more reassuring. “We’ll figure this out. But right now, the team needs you.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I forced myself to focus on the task ahead. “I know,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Let’s go.”

We made our way through the sterile corridors of the facility, leaving Bucky behind in the holding area. My mind was racing with a mix of fear, hope, and determination, but I knew that whatever happened next, I wasn’t giving up on him.

Natasha guided me through the maze of corridors until we reached a large conference room. Inside, Clint was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and his expression tense. A few other top SHIELD agents were gathered around the table, deep in discussion. They all looked up when we entered, their faces a mix of concern and focus.

“Glad you could join us,” Clint said, giving me a nod. His tone was light, but I could sense the underlying seriousness.

I took a seat at the table, my body still aching from the earlier struggle. Natasha sat beside me, and I glanced around at the agents present. The room was filled with a palpable tension; everyone knew that the stakes had been raised significantly with Hydra’s infiltration.

“We were just going over what we know about Hydra’s infiltration,” Natasha began, addressing the group. “They’ve been embedded in SHIELD for a long time, playing the long game and positioning their agents in key roles. But something changed recently— something that led them to act now.”

An older agent across the table nodded, pulling up a display on the screen in front of us. It showed a web of connections, names, and faces, all tied back to Hydra. “They’ve been making moves to destabilize SHIELD from the inside,” the agent explained. “But the most concerning part is their focus on the Winter Soldier. It seems their primary objective was to weaponize him against us— specifically against you,” he said, looking directly at me.

“Why me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The thought of being specifically targeted sent a chill down my spine.

“We think it’s because of your connection to Bucky,” Clint said, leaning forward. “Hydra knew how important you were to him. They set you as his primary target because they wanted to destabilize him emotionally and ensure his compliance. It’s classic psychological warfare— they use what matters most to control their assets.”

My stomach tightened at his words, the weight of it settling heavily on my shoulders. The idea that I was the key to manipulating Bucky, that Hydra had used me as leverage to turn him into a weapon, was almost too much to bear.

“They wanted to isolate him,” Natasha added, her voice calm but edged with anger. “To make him feel like he couldn’t trust anyone— even himself. By targeting you, they hoped to push him over the edge and keep him under their control.”

I clenched my fists, frustration and fear mingling in my chest. “We have to stop them,” I said, my voice firm. “We have to find out who’s pulling the strings and end this.”

Natasha nodded. “We’re already working on it. But we need to be careful— they’re deeply embedded, and we can’t trust anyone outside this room.”

Clint looked at me, his expression softening slightly. “We’ve got your back,” he said. “And Bucky’s. We’re going to get through this, but we need to play it smart.”

I nodded, feeling the determination in the room bolster my resolve. Hydra might have infiltrated SHIELD, but they hadn’t broken us. And as long as we stood together, we had a chance to fight back.

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@scott-loki-barnes

[shamrockqueen]

Predator in the desert

Chapter 3

Pairing : Winter soldier x reader (post apocalyptic AU)

Warnings : Desperation, starving behavior, references to war, duality of the mind, emotionless man

Word count : 2020

Chapter 1

Bucky MasterList

You stopped breathing, the ghost of an echo bouncing through your ears after he’d yelled at you.

Your eyes snapped from his cutting and cold gaze, further down to the glimmer of his fearsome metal fingers as they closed around the old brass knob on the door. The only opening to the room, the only way out, and you wouldn’t be able to reach it, let alone slip past his solid stonelike frame.

You weren’t ‘calm’ by any means, but he had your attention, and even as you continued to shiver, it was all he really needed.

“Are you hungry?”

You flinched as he spoke; his voice edged only with a lack of patience as it reached out to you with heavy hands to shake you from your reeling thoughts.

You didn’t answer just yet, feeling your pulse thrum along your skin wildly. You just laid there, stunned as you stared at those metal fingers tightening around the knob of the door and trying to ease your own breathing before it made you feel numb.

“I asked if you were hungry.” He was much more stern, and even a little louder this time, watching with equal disinterest as you gasped back and struggled to answer.

“Y-yes… I‘m hungry.”

You spoke weakly, your lips shaking and your eyes welling with a wet dribble of tears. Like a small break in the smallest of bones as you gave in to the absurdity.

Of course you were hungry. You’ve been hungry since you were a screaming infant, just as everyone doomed to a life in the wasteland had been. Food in any amount was a luxury, whether it’s warm meat and grains or smashed bugs you find crawling along the floor by your bedroll.

This promise of food without a single bat of his eye should have felt like a dream come true, but something in your stomach felt heavy before clenching with a sharp cramp. That familiar pang of hunger pains morphing viscerally into obvious fear as your guts knotted together.

This was the only moment in your miserable life that you didn’t crave food, as you were consumed only with dread.

You didn’t want to take anything from this unholy amalgamation of man and metal. It was like cowering beneath the boogeyman, a monster of jagged teeth and twisted limbs that could steal your last shred of innocence, only to find an unreadable being that looked no different from yourself. He didn’t wear enough of his lethality on his skin, leaving you to spiral at the possibilities of what these chains binding you to his lair really meant for your near future.

It was no better than being a rabbit caught in a cage. There is the offer of water and now food, but the danger of your captivity, just as the chain around your leg, was a staunch reminder that none of this would be out of kindness. There is no good reason that you are here—none that could be conceived as all the terrible reasons swarm your aching head.

His expression never seemed to change as he took in every reaction you gave him, seeming to read it like new data to further his own strange purpose. When he was finished searching your jumbled tomes, whether having found his needed information or losing interest, he dragged that door open and disappeared through it before shutting you back inside that room. Only this time, you were alone with the crushing silence he had once held above you.

A silence quickly broken by the hard clack of a lock turning shut in the flimsy wooden barrier this soldier had placed between you two.

He fit the stories from old fantasies of war. An old story long left covered in dust, detailing how both sides ate away at one another until the bones were bare and empty of their marrow. He bore the red star, the mark of a demon of irradiated sands. One head severed from its ranks meant two would splinter out in its place, biting and gnashing its way through the wasteland.

The great hydra was supposed to be dead, a final rest assured long before your own birth. How wrong they all were apparently, and as you recounted those scary fairy tales, your stomach twisted harder and harder.

You tried to steady your breathing, letting it stutter and shake before it finally met an even rhythm.

‘You really did need to calm down’ The traitorous thought was the last fly to buzz through your brain before you let the muscles in your shoulders fall loose to hit the floor.

Your ankle still felt heavy with its new iron cuff, and you struggled back onto your elbows and further onto your feet, the sound of the chain dragging along the wood the only noise left to taunt you.

Your eyes narrow at the brassy knob, a small spark of defiance finally igniting in your chest only to fall short of catching a flame.

You were frustrated at best, hot tears stinging your eyes before spilling out over your dirty cheeks.

‘Why me? For fucks sake, why?”

How were you significant enough to be stolen? Did he pity you, thinking that keeping you would be better for your well-being, like a lost kitten climbing among the rocks he had scooped up?

Why would a monster want to help you? Why would he bother to care for you when he could do what any other villain would do to others who strayed too far from home?

But, this room didn’t look like a pen to keep his livestock. It had a small window at its other end, barred on the outside of the glass for your protection. The bed wasn’t shabby, only worn, and with actual blankets and pillows.

If you were to be kept, you suppose he chose to keep you well.

You turned back to the door, its knob within reach, but you didn’t jump to futilely pull or tear at it. You reach forward, a shriveled shard of hope still tearing at your heavy heart as you slide your fingers around it.

You know it was locked; you heard it happen, but you still clung to the possibility of this being a terribly real nightmare instead. Maybe your mind would let you open the door, but as you twisted the handle, it of course did not budge.

You stood closer, your head falling to your chest as you pressed your fingers to the wood. Your mouth opened with a shaking exhale of an empty scream, and new tears flooded over to wash the rest of your grimy face.

You did not expect the door to push forward on its own, nearly smacking you in the face as it knocked you back. You land on the floor unceremoniously. Still so weak and unsteady, you weren’t even a suitable match for an old door.

The man was back, standing over you with a plate in his human hand. He sighed before setting the platter of promised food on the bed, stepping over you in the process.

He spoke evenly, saying, “I didn’t mean to hit you,” but his voice didn’t carry any ounce of guilt for knocking you back on your ass. Would this have been the first time he’d knocked you down, or was it simply the only time he hadn’t meant to do so?

“Are you alright?” he asked as he leaned over your crumbled form, reaching towards your reddened cheek where the wood had initially smacked you.

You immediately shied away from his touch but didn’t fight to scramble backward.

He leaned away but offered you his less harrowing hand to help you off the floor instead of leaving you to do so by yourself again.

You never answered his last question, but as he didn’t press further, it was possible that he wasn't really interested either way.

He gestured to the plate of food he’d set on the bed and said flatly, “Eat.”

You looked over at the plate still perched on a pile of blankets. A slab of cooked meat, diced cubes of root vegetables, and a mush of something boiled, green, and leafy. It was the best thing you’d ever seen.

Actual meat the size of your hand coupled with real vegetables possibly rich with those vitamins and mineral-things the doctor used to talk about. Whatever it was, it made your tongue wet as you swept it over your cracked lips.

A small part of you still wanted to be cautious, as another balled its fists in frustration from being kept away from a beautiful plate of healthy food.

You opened your mouth, only to choke back on the words with a wet cough. You sputtered again, crying like a sad child for him to witness before finally speaking.

“Are you going to drug me?”

"No,” he answered quickly and with little care.

You watched for any signs of a farce, a twitch of an eyebrow, a quirk of a lip, anything. His eyes held their dull, disinterested blue as he waited for you to make up your mind.

You ventured closer to the plate, pressing a dirty finger against the still hot morsel of meat. It was light in color, like white meat off a rabbit, but you needed to be certain before going past this thin line you had drawn for yourself.

Your lips stuck together as you nearly whispered a squeak of a few words, “Is it people?”

The ‘P’ was sputtered by the drop of collected tears, making the sound more pronounced as it left your lips.

“No”

You looked back at him at the subtle change in his voice. With one word, one syllable, it was oddly unmistakable. He sounded a little offended, and yet he didn’t lift a finger against you.

That last ‘no’ was all you needed before throwing yourself at the plate, scooping at the wet potatoes and greens with your fingers to wipe the tasteless sludge over your tongue in ecstasy.

You tore at the meat with your bare teeth like a hungry dog in a frenzy of unending starvation.

You weren’t human anymore; no longer yourself. It was shameful how you felt. In this moment, as you tore at a lump of fat with your back molar, you wanted this more than ever.

You wanted to be a pet if it meant the promise of this minimal care. You wanted to be kept; you wanted the fresh water and food; damned be the consequences.

You weren’t thinking clearly, not until you licked the last stain of grease and green vegetable smudge off the plate with your desperate little tongue. You hadn’t realized you were panting, gasping at the air, and holding the plate with white knuckles and numb fingers as if he could fly off and never return.

His expression had shifted for only a second. A split moment where his eyes widened a single centimeter before returning to their natural steely state. His shoulders stayed stiff with new concern. It was all a subtle change you had missed during your indulgence.

“Do you want more?” He asked, his voice still tainted with that unspoken concern.

You swear you could nearly feel your heart stop at just hearing those words. You were still desperate, and you nodded frantically.

He reached carefully towards you for the plate, giving you his metal fingers instead of the soft fleshy digits of his other hand. Possibly anticipating being bitten when pulling away the saucer. You let him take it from you, watching as he repeated his earlier actions of leaving and locking you inside the room.

There was a burn of shame somewhere in your stomach, but it was greatly overshadowed by a deep desire for sustenance. And, this man, what should be a monster in your eyes, was unbothered to fulfill such a desire.

You stood in place, not reaching for the door like the captive you are, not waiting on the bed like a puppy missing its master. But, by god, you wanted that fucking food.

Chapter 4

More post apocalyptic AU

Tags : @itsswritten @cjand10 @dear-lolita @took-a-wr0ng-turn @scott-loki-barnes @ihavetwoholesforareason @potatothots @toozmanykids @wintrsoldrluvr @heletsmelovehim

[ronearoundblindly]

Sneak Peek!!!

excerpt from Part II: Reasons (see previous or series) a Steve Rogers x villain!Reader tale

Summary: Steve's convinced your first (and only) move will be ordering Bucky to kill your enemy. He has no clue...

Warnings for mentions of injury (minor) and brainwashing/manipulation (technically). WC ~400

Steve rests his head on the chilly glass and pinches his eyes shut. He’ll take a minute, review the money trail, and then interview the doctor. It seems a miracle that man was able to go home to his wife and sleep, even with security inside the room, down every hall, surrounding the house…Steve wouldn’t do it; he can’t even keep his eyes closed long enough for the dry sting to subside.

How could he be so stupid?

You weren’t staring at him from across the room; you were watching your mark, waiting for an opening. Sadly, it occurs to Steve that if he’d just let you inject Avani, his friend would be fine, here by his side, and safe.

You are the threat, not Bucky, but that’s a hard distinction. If anyone else sees James Barnes—who is the stealth assassin Winter Soldier, as far as they know—they’ll shoot. No questions. Steve has to find him first. He has to get to you first.

Bucky is compromised, but Steve won’t let it come to that. He can’t let Buck kill for you.

“Feel better?” You twirl in the chair as soon as the motel bathroom door opens, steam billowing out.

Winter’s face is shadowed, pointed to the floor.

“Or…at least, okay? Here—“ you offer the seat next to you at the tiny table “—sit. Eat. Let me—I’ve got bandages for your knuckles.”

“Will heal,” he grunts, sitting easily but with stiff posture, “fast.”

You let out a heavy breath, muttering, “makes one of us.”

The soldier reaches out for the file in front of you, but your hand pins it down.

“No. Food first, and palm up here.” You wait for him to flip open the takeout container then blot antiseptic on the split skin. “Does that hurt?”

He shakes his head, focus on the meal before him. His mission is very simple, but he’s thorough. You knew he would be.

Several months ago, an article was published about Bucky Barnes’ affinity for this one particular deli in Brooklyn, a third-generation shop. It listed his usual order.

You’ve made sure the bread isn’t soggy. You kept the spicy mustard on the side.

He makes a strange face, looking around for your portion.

“Not hungry,” you assure him, “I’m rarely hungry.” You secure the bandage like boxing wraps and spin the file around.

“Eat your food—” The command is soft, encouraging “—while I tell you about your mission.”

a/n: Hope you guys still give a hoot about this tale, but I'm determined to complete in-progress fics probably for the rest of the calendar year... Sooooooooo much has to fit into this chapter that it's taking me forever to work it all out. I don't want it to be a play-by-play and boring explanation of her plan, but it can't be confusing either. The balance is getting there though. Thank you for your patience!

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @marvelmenwhore @happinessinthebeing @before-we-get-started @sjsmith56 @esposadomd

[sarahrogersevans]

Do We Really Hate Each Other? Bucky Barnes Avenger! xreader Rivals To Lovers fan fic

Summary: Bucky and Y/N get paired up on a mission & they can’t stand each other and are really competitive against each other but then Bucky gets wounded on the mission and things change for the both of them

Warnings: angsty, fluff, mentions of arguments, mentions of being injured and injuries, soft moments, some language and mentions of flashbacks, Let me know if I miss anything

~Bucky’s POV~

I finally got called to help fight in another mission though I was on my way to see Tony Stark because I was told I was getting a new partner to be paired up with and usually I partner up with Sam and I really hope I don’t get paired up with a newbie. I saw agent Y/N and Mr. Stark in the common room in the compound and I walked up to them and I rolled my eyes when I stood by her and Tony said ��oh Mr. Barnes good you’re here meet your new partner for this mission.” He pointed to Y/N and I was pissed. “Stark cone on you can’t be serious, Y/N? Our skills and fighting techniques don’t match plus she’ll just be a distraction.” Y/N scoffed and teasingly said “what’s wrong Barnes? You worried you won’t be able to focus if you keep an eye on me?” I smirked and said “doll don’t flatter yourself plus I won’t be watching what you’re doing and I could care less.”

Tony interrupted us and said “I’m sorry to break up this happy reunion between the both of you but we have a mission to go save the world again so you two better figure out how to get along.” I groaned walking up the quinjet and said “whatever, just stay out of my way Y/N.” She shrugged and said “fine Bucky after this is over we don’t have to speak again.” A part of me hated her but when she said that I kinda got upset by those words and I could tell I was upsetting Y/N and maybe I should go a bit easier on her but I wasn’t about to completely go soft on her but I did worry about her during missions and I do feel protective of her. It’s a weird feeling of hating someone and wanting to kiss them at the same time.

We got to where we needed to be and we all split off with our teams and while Y/N and I covering ground and fighting enemies I started saying “Hey Y/N, doll look there’s something I wanted to say-“ before I could continue I got hit in the leg pretty bad and Y/N screamed saying “no! Bucky hang on I’m coming!” She came over to help me up and I limped while we hid in a different area and I looked at my wound and said “go on without me doll.” She shook her head and said “absolutely not!.. I can’t leave you don’t be a hero Bucky.” She helped me get patched up and we met up with everyone and got back on the quinjet to head home.

~Y/N’s POV~

I was so upset when Bucky got injured I felt like it was my fault, I kept thinking I didn’t look around enough but I remember shooting every enemy I could see. A few days after Bucky was taken to to recover I went to go see him. I felt really nervous thinking he might not wanna see me but as soon as he saw me in the doorway he smiled waving me in and said “hey doll come in, I’m not gonna bite.” I pulled up a chair to sit by him and I saw he had a crutch by him and a cast on his leg and I got upset flashing back to when he got hurt and I said “Bucky I- I’m so sorry you got hurt, this was my fault.. you were right.” Bucky shook his head and sat up quick saying “Y/N no I wasn’t right I was an ass to you before the mission doll and I can explain if you let me?” Bucky sounded so genuine so I nodded smiling and he wanted to get up and I saw he was in pain so I quickly got up to help him and he said “no Y/N i can do this it’s ok doll.” I ignored him and I had him put his arm around me so he could grab some water and I helped him sit back down and he tried denying mu help again but I helped him get comfortable and I whispered “just let me, please?” He nodded and said “thank you doll for being here helping me.” I smiled knowing he appreciated me being around, I was just relieved he was gonna be alright.

The next few days I would visit Bucky in his room and I’d help him get around and one day we were playing cards and I could tell he was reliving the moment he got injured and he said “hey doll would it be ok if I hugged you?” I was surprised to hear him say that but I went right over to give him a hug and wrapped my arms around his neck holding him close and I could feel him holding on to me tight and we didn’t even say much the next few minutes but we knew we didn’t need to. Bucky pulled away to look at me moving some of my hair away from my face and I smiled feeling a bit shy and I said “Bucky.. do we really hate each other?..” I was scared to hear his answer. Bucky looked at me shaking his head no and said “Y/N I gotta be honest a part of me hates that you drive me crazy but the other part of me has fallen hard for you and why I was such an ass to you was because I was scared of letting you in and if anything happened and I lost you doll..” I cupped his face in my hands and I said “Bucky hey I’m right here and I am not going anywhere I promise. I feel the same way about you, I love you Bucky. I was scared I was gonna lose you out there..” Bucky caught me off guard and pulled me closer and kissed me but I smiled and didn’t hesitate to kiss him back.

Bucky smiled at me and jokingly said “I still hate you.” I laughed and said “I love you too Barnes.” He kissed me again pulling me into his embrace and whispered “thank you for saving my life doll I love you always have.” I hugged him and looked into his eyes and said “Bucky I love you and I will save your life over and over and I know you’d do the same for me. Bucky kissed my forehead and leaned his forehead against mine and said “in a heartbeat my love.”

Hi lovelies!! So I was hoping to get this one out and posted sooner but thankfully it’s finally done 😌 I hope everyone will enjoy, I apologize it’s a bit short 😅xx ♥️

Taglist:

@lokiandbuckysdoll

@jessybarnes

@sunshine-on-my-mind

@nana1000night

@anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount

@writersblog20

@delicatecoffeepeanut

@vrittivsanghavi

@marvelstarker-mha98

@chrisevansdaughter

@precious1610

[multifandom-worlds]

Letter from New York

My doll, Oh, how I miss you when you're so far away. I wish you were here, sleeping in my arms like you should be, not hundreds of kilometres away. I can't sleep without you.

Nothing in this world compares to the warmth you bring everywhere you go, and I am so lost without you. You are my safe space, doll, my home. With you, I am able to be me. I am able to take the mask off and truly be who I am, not who others want me to be. You allow me to break; you help me to feel all it is I need to feel. You never think twice about helping me through a panic attack or a nightmare. With you, I am truly safe.

I know I don't tell you enough how much I am utterly in love with you, but the truth is, I can never find the words to fully express how complex and encompassing my love for you is. I love you today just as hard as I loved you back in the '40s. You are my one and only, and I could not ask for a better spouse. I am so proud of you, doll. I see how hard you work every single day, wearing that beautiful heart of yours on your sleeve. It does not matter the number of times you've been knocked down; you always get right back up with a smile on your face. I will always be by your side, picking you up when you stumble or pushing you ahead when you fall back. Thank you for choosing me again. I never forgot you, and I never will. Just as I was yours then, I am yours now and forever more. Bucky

@simplyholl @buckyalpine @winterslove1917

[maxriderg]

To quote Vincent Martella as Phineas Flynn of Phineas and Ferb, once again as usual (but in my very own way): Fellers, I know what I just can't wait to share for Ray Chase's upcoming 37th Birthday by next Monday, complete with these and well, HAVE A VERY HAPPY EARLY 37TH BIRTHDAY TO the one and only, RAY CHASE (1987-present), Ladies and Gentlemen! ;)

[buckyalpine]

Throwing an idea out for the future: beauty and the beast with winter soldier bucky. Imagine you plead for him to let your father go, willing to take his place instead. Imagine your softness breaks him out of prison his mind is held in.

It doesn’t happen instantly but the soldier slowly learns to care of the soft, sweet thing that is now his captive.

Imagine the way he’d grow protective over you over time.

Imagine how sweet he’d be if he went from speaking roughly in Russian to his soft Brooklyn drawl the day he snaps out of the mind control.

You’re not sure what’s happening.

“Soldat?” You whisper, hesitantly bringing your hand to his scruffy cheek.

“цветок” (flower) he whispers back, that precious name he’d given just for you, “it’s me, flower”

Angst

All the kisses.

Smut?

A need.

[ptolomia]

Dream a little dream of me

Summary: You have an unfinished dream of Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Wet dream, Choking, Mating Press, Unsafe Sex.

You jolted awake, unaware of what time it was as the sweat set into your skin, a dull ache forming between your legs. You took a minute to take in your surroundings and the second body cradled you gently, the cold steel of his arm stretched around your waist, warmth pooling in your core.

You grind against him in the hope that he senses your need "Buck…" You whine low, the moan that meets your ear in response was enticing.  

He twitched against your ass, holding you closer and grinding against you. His arm slowly slid between your legs, relieving the pain. "Had a good dream baby?" His voice was coated in a soft rasp the words settled warmly against your ear. "No! It ended before the good part." You whined, melting from the friction.

"Can't have that now can we baby?” He teased, sucking at the pulse point of your neck making you sleepily keen.

His head lowers to rub his chin at the juxtapex of your cheekbone and ear and gives a shallow breath into the shell of your ear. "How do you want it, doll?" He licks at your earlobe and takes it in his mouth to give you a small nibble. His hips grinding against you again made you mewl as he braced himself on his elbows on the bed.

Fully pressed into you, he could feel the short, shuddering breaths that leave you in anticipation of what he was going to do seeing as you can't move currently under him.

“Please-" You tried to plead as your hips rubbed back against him. Loving the way his cock was slotted between your ass cheeks so perfectly. Pressing him to where your heat was. "Baby please!"

He growled as he inched your hips higher, grabbing a pillow, tucking it under your hips to get you at the perfect angle.

His right hand ran up your hips. The flimsy sleep shorts easily stretched as his hand dipped to grab your ass. His fingers slowly traced your upper thigh snaking a finger down to circle your clit. His hips bucking into you as he groaned.

"You're always so wet for me baby. Is that what you want? Want me to cum so deep inside you? Fill you up?"

You moan hard as his fingers sped up. A particularly hard jut of his hip made you both moan. "Fuck- I need you so bad baby. Always so good for me." He groaned "You're so ready for me. So obedient, always wanting my cock." He continued as he grinded.

"Please just fuck me Buck! I can't take it anymore!" He pulled his fingers away, pulling the hem of his sweatpants down to take out his cock. He slapped the head against your core "Patience is a virtue, doll"

He finally eased your agony slipping into you with ease. "So beautiful." He whispers nibbling on your earlobe, "G’morning, baby." You say back, barely coherent through your bliss.

He sped up, relishing in the way your plush walls tensed around his cock. He could feel your heartbeat through your pleasure. "God you're so fucking wet for me."

“Buck!" Your fingers grip his shoulders as his cock dug into you. Heat building in your stomach as you he rammed into you. 

"Being such a good little slut for me baby," He said between thrusts that made you keen and tense around his cock. "Is that good baby? Are you close f’me?" he says, his accent as sweet as honey. “O-Oh God! Yes baby!” you scream, your mind going blank.

His metal hand snaked around your throat, pushing you closer to the edge. Your nails dug into his back leaving tiny red crescents in their wake.

"Such a good girl- fuck!" Your walls tensed around him, warmth growing in your stomach as you squeezed around him. He growled in your ear, “Oh God baby, you’re squeezing me so tight. I’m so fucking close. Where do you want it baby?” He said, his thrusts never ceasing. You whined, relishing in the way his cock twitched inside you. "Fuck! Inside me-“

“I wouldn’t want it anywhere else, doll.” He groaned, pulling your legs to his shoulders and pressing into you as he came. "Fuck baby…" He panted, pulling out of you. He slowly removed the pillow beneath your hips, shifting to the side you made room for him to cradle you. “So, did I make up for your bad dream, baby?” He breathed softly, a light chuckle falling out as the words dropped off his tongue. A good morning, indeed.

[imdonnalynn]

I just want to point out that Captain America: The Winter Soldier was, always has been (except for a short time before I got my sanity back. I used to briefly think Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings was better, but not) and still is to date the best MCU movie and it's centered around Bucky Barnes, the man himself who I hope will have a much brighter future in the MCU. How he's been treated since being put on ice at the end of Civil War in Wakanda (Black Panther) has been pretty cruddy. Ever since it feels like he's just been used for background characterization, filler, like a pawn on the chessboard to push other characters stories and I don't like it.

Give my Bucky some better love MCU!

p.s. I know it's super hard on Sebastian to get in Bucky shape from Civil War but damn did he look his fucking best.

[goldensunflowe-r]

Okay I need help 🙏😭💖

I read this bucky barnes alternative reality or parallel reality fic where Tony and Bruce were doing some experiment and reader get into parallel reality where bucky and her are just friends (in her real reality they are engaged) and then they found out just before reader went back in her reality that just because reader took her heels off in one of Tonys party back in time where reader and bucky were friends she didn't trip and bucky didn't catch her and that's why they couldn't admit their feelings (I know I'm rambling and maybe it doesn't make sense but if you guys know this fic let me know I have been trying to find this for months 😭)(thank you guys in advance 💖)

[buckybarnesfanfiction]

Hydra Trash Party