#Bucky barnes short

[bandsofmarv]

Hi! Could I request a comfort Bucky X reader where reader was cheated on and Bucky finds out?

Of course! I think I’ll do a part 2 continuation with more smut.

Always by your side.

Bucky your shoulder to cry on helps you navigate through a breakup after being cheated on.

You didn’t hear him come in, but you felt him before you saw him. The faint creak of the door, the quiet sound of boots padding across the floor, and then the familiar warmth of Bucky Barnes settling beside you on the couch.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. You stayed curled up in your blanket, staring at the rain streaking the window. “What are you doing here?” Your voice came out hoarse, brittle.

“Steve told me,” he said, and just those three words had you crumbling.

You blinked rapidly, trying to fight the tears threatening to spill over. “You didn’t have to come,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, I did.”

You felt the couch shift as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’ve been there for me through some pretty dark stuff. I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

The dam broke. A sob tore through you, and suddenly the blanket wasn’t enough to hold you together. Before you could stop him, Bucky was pulling you into his arms, his embrace strong and unyielding.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his voice steady and low, the kind of tone you’d expect from someone who knew how to anchor a storm. “Let it out. I’m right here.”

You clung to him, your fists gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt as the tears flowed freely. He didn’t rush you, didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. He just held you, his flesh hand stroking your back while the cool metal one rested protectively on your arm.

“He cheated on me,” you choked out after a while, the words cutting like glass. “He said he loved me, and he—he just threw it all away.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to cup your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears staining your cheeks. His eyes, those deep blue eyes, were filled with so much tenderness it made your heart ache all over again.

“He’s a fool,” Bucky said firmly. “He didn’t deserve you, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve your love.”

You shook your head, guilt gnawing at you. “But what if I wasn’t enough? What if I—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice soft but commanding. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for his mistakes. You’re enough. You’re more than enough. And if he couldn’t see that, then he’s not worth another second of your tears.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. The conviction in his voice, the way he looked at you—it was like he was willing you to believe it, to see yourself the way he did.

“I don’t know how to move on from this,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

Bucky’s arms tightened around you, pulling you close again. “One step at a time,” he said. “And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here, okay? As long as it takes. You’re not getting rid of me.”

His words wrapped around you like a second blanket, warm and steady. For the first time since it happened, you felt a flicker of something that almost resembled hope.

“Why are you so good to me?” you whispered.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Because you’re you. And because… I care about you. Probably more than I should, if I’m being honest.”

You looked up at him, surprised, but he just smiled—a small, tentative thing, like he wasn’t sure how you’d take it.

“I mean it,” he said. “You deserve someone who sees how incredible you are. Someone who wouldn’t dream of hurting you. And if I get my way, one day you’ll see that person could be me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, your heart stuttering in your chest. You didn’t know what to say, but Bucky didn’t seem to expect an answer.

“For now, though,” he continued, pulling you back into his arms, “just let me take care of you. Let me remind you how loved you are.”

————————————————————————

You stayed in Bucky’s arms for what felt like hours, the weight of your pain slowly lightening with each passing minute. He didn’t rush you, didn’t pressure you to feel better, he just was there—steadfast and steady, the anchor you needed in the storm of your emotions.

At some point, the tears stopped coming, and all that was left was the quiet sound of your breathing mingling with his. His hand was still tracing slow, comforting circles on your back, his presence both soothing and grounding.

“You’re not alone in this, you know,” Bucky said, his voice low, as if he was afraid of breaking the fragile moment.

You nodded against his chest, your fingers still twisted in the fabric of his shirt, holding on like you never wanted to let go. The warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest—it felt like everything was finally starting to make sense again.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for being here.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes locking onto yours with such intensity that it made your heart flutter. He didn’t say anything right away, just kept you close, the distance between you minimal, but it felt charged with something more.

After a beat, he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just want you to be okay. And when you are, I want to be here—right beside you. In whatever way you need me.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. You couldn’t be sure what this was—this closeness, this bond—but you knew you didn’t want to let go of it. Not now. Not ever.

Slowly, your hand found its way to his cheek, your fingers brushing over the smooth skin there. Bucky’s breath hitched at the touch, his eyes flickering closed, his face softening beneath your fingertips.

“You mean a lot to me, Bucky,” you whispered, your heart racing.

His eyes opened again, and the sincerity in them made your chest tighten. “You mean the world to me,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

The words were raw, honest, and as much as you wanted to stay in the comfort of the silence, the moment felt too charged. You felt his presence closing in on you, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over the skin there in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

He leaned in, just barely, his lips hovering a breath away from yours. You could feel the heat of his breath on your face, the tension building between you, so tangible, it almost hurt.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and tentative, like he was asking permission.

You didn’t need to think about it. You could feel the pull between you, the shared desire, the quiet longing that had always been there, only now it was unspoken but undeniable.

You nodded, barely able to breathe, before you closed the gap.

Bucky’s lips were soft and warm against yours, tender at first, like he was waiting for you to respond, to meet him halfway. When you did, it was like everything snapped into place. The kiss deepened slowly, a promise and an apology wrapped into one. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, and you allowed yourself to melt into him, your heart beating faster than it had in days.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his, both of you sharing the same unsteady, yet contented, breath.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours once more. “Always.”

And for the first time that night, you allowed yourself to believe it.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bucky who starts a purely platonic physical touch giving friendship with reader… until it turns into more

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡  ｡✭･ﾟ

It starts off so innocently. Bucky just sat really close to you one day and noticed how the touch of your shoulder on his made him tingly all over.

The same happened when your hand brushed his, or you passed close by, and he caught a whiff of your hair - something that reminds him of the feeling he now seeks out when you’re around.

It’s no secret that either of you have been single a long time with basically no prospects for a future relationship, so no one questions when you and him suddenly hang out more.

He invites you over when you ask him if he was okay, and he realized that his day was in fact crappy and that if you offered to talk to him, he’d tell you all about it.

And when you sit on the sofa listening to Bucky talk, your hand instinctively found his and before Bucky knew it, his head was pressed into your shoulder, your nails raking over his scalp releasing a feeling within him, he can only describe as heavenly.

He loves it when you comfort him, and he loves comforting you, somehow knowing that you need this part of your friendship just as much as he does.

So it becomes a regular thing: when the rest of the team returns home to their spouses after a tiring mission, you and Bucky retreat to either one of your apartments under the pretense of not wanting to be alone.

Of course, neither of you planned for it to become so touchy and intimate... no, that would be insane, right?

It’s a normal afternoon for the two of you, hanging out at your place, a movie playing on TV, Bucky’s head buried in your chest as he lays half on top of you and you with your back against the sofa. Your hand rakes over his hair as his are halfway tugged beneath your body, seeking all the warmth he can get.

The physical touch aspect of your relationship has somehow crossed the lines between friends, but neither of you care. It feels too good to be held and protected to stop.

Bucky hasn't felt the caring touch of a partner in decades and you... well, let's just say that all men before Bucky didn't feel the need to express their love through aftercare - not that Bucky is in any way shape or form about to give said aftercare... no, you are just friends. Just. Friends.

Friends who frequently hide their hands in the other's jacket when the cold catches up to them.

Friends who bury their faces in each other's chest and lap like it is the most normal thing a person can do to another.

Friends who somehow always wonder if the other feels that spark ignite whenever they hold each other close.

Bucky feels the sensation when he's practically caging you beneath his upper body of the sofa. He lifts his head as he usually does to see if maybe this time he could magically hear your thoughts.

"What's up?"

He shakes his head. "I just really enjoy this." he mumbles and blushes, and your hand suddenly stops its path along his scalp.

"Me too." you smile and look into his eyes.

normally he'd put his head back, and you'd resume watching the movie, but something is different today.

maybe it's the way his hair looks perfectly tousled by your constant motions, or maybe it's the way he slowly blinks at you like a very comfortable pet.

but you finally find the courage to kiss him.

Follow my library blog for fic updates! @espinosaurusrexex-library

[3twindragons]

Let him cook!

[minaminokyoko]

I know nobody cares, but...

Marvel picked MY fucking short story, "Lost Cause," to be the official excerpt for the updated announcement of the Captain America: The Shield of Sam Wilson anthology.

No, really, look: https://www.marvel.com/articles/culture-lifestyle/captain-america-the-shield-of-sam-wilson-features-original-short-stories-excerpt-cover

I'm fucking shocked they picked mine. What a tremendous honor to represent our boy. <3

On the off chance someone cares, info below!

As a Black man in America, Sam Wilson knows he has to be twice as good to get half as much credit. He must be a paragon of virtue for a nation that has mixed feelings towards him. In these thirteen brand-new stories, the all-new Captain America must thwart an insurrectionist plot, travel back in time, foil a racist conspiracy, and save the world over and over again.

As the Falcon, Sam Wilson was the first African American super hero in mainstream comic books. Sam’s trials and tribulations reflect the struggles many Black Americans go through today, as Sam balances fighting supervillains and saving the world with the difficulties of being the first Black Captain America. This action-packed anthology inspired by the Marvel comic book universe, will see Sam team up with familiar friends like Steve Rogers, Redwing and Nomad, while fighting HYDRA, Sabretooth, Kingpin, and other infamous villains.

These are stories of death-defying courage, Black love and self-discovery. These are the stories of a super hero learning what it means to be a symbol. These are the stories of Sam Wilson.

Release date: January 14, 2025

Pre-order now in ebook, hardcover, or audiobook: https://www.amazon.com/Captain-America-Shield-Sam-Wilson/dp/1803363878

And can I pretty please get some notes? PWEASE? Struggling indie black author here, just saying.

[arcadia-smith]

You were curled up on the couch, Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around your shoulders as the TV played some old movie neither of you were really paying attention to. It had been a long day, filled with missions and training, and this—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other—was the best way to unwind.

Your fingers idly traced patterns over the back of his hand, and after a few moments of comfortable silence, you spoke.

"What's your favorite thing about me?"

Bucky hummed, tilting his head slightly as if deep in thought. He turned to face you, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"Probably your smile."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. "Seriously?"

His grin widened. "Okay, fine." He shifted closer, voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. "I love how you can kill a man in only two seconds."

You snorted, shaking your head. "That’s what you love about me?"

He shrugged, a teasing glint in his steel-blue eyes. "It's impressive."

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him. "So, not my intelligence? My stunning good looks? My charming personality?"

Bucky smirked. "Oh, those are great too. But watching you take down a guy twice your size? Kind of hot, doll."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re impossible."

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. "And you’re lethal. Perfect match, don’t you think?"

With a grin, you pulled him closer. "Yeah, I think so too."

[hurtspideyparker]

sometimes I see that tfatws Bucky clip with his head tilt and smirk and lip lick and I get so overcome with sheer attraction that I simply have to rewatch the entire series mk

[wolvietxt]

hiiiiiii jay!! ive been having an unhealthy sleeping schedule lately, so i just wanted to know what you think frank would do if he catches you up pulling an all-nighter cause of some uni work when he came home from one of his missions. most especially, when you tell him you’ve done it for three straight nights while he was gone…

FRANK knew something was off the second he stepped into the apartment. it was quiet, too quiet, but not in the way that usually meant safety. the tv wasn’t on, no music played softly from your phone, and you didn’t come running up to him the second he locked the door behind him.  

his gut clenched.  

he slipped off his boots, careful not to track any dirt or blood onto the floor, and listened. he heard it then - the faint sound of typing. quick, rhythmic, desperate.  

with a sigh, he followed it, walking toward the kitchen, where the glow of your laptop screen cast shadows across your face. papers were scattered everywhere, some crumpled, some covered in highlighter. empty redbull cans were scattered around the tabletop. a half-eaten granola bar sat next to an empty coffee cup, and another coffee was in your hand, fingers curled tight around it like a lifeline.  

you didn’t even notice him.  

“sweetheart.” his voice was low, firm.  

you startled, eyes snapping up. he saw the exhaustion in them instantly - red-rimmed, glassy, dark circles bruising your skin.  

“frank,” you breathed, blinking fast like you were trying to clear your vision.  

he didn’t move toward you just yet, but he looked you over, taking in the way your hands trembled around the coffee cup, the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of whatever you were doing.  

“what’re you doin’ up?” he asked, though he already had an idea.  

“just… finishing some stuff,” you mumbled, eyes darting back to your laptop. “it’s nothing, really.”  

he glanced at the time on the microwave. 4:12 a.m.  

his jaw ticked.  

“when’s the last time you slept?”  

you hesitated, biting your lip, and he knew right then you were about to say something he wouldn’t like.  

“um … a little bit, here and there,” you finally said, voice too soft, too small.  

frank sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “baby.”  

“it’s fine,” you tried to reassure him, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “i just needed to catch up on work. it’s been kinda crazy, and i thought, you know, since you were gone, i’d just - ”  

“how long?”  

your mouth opened, closed.  

he took a step forward. “how long you been doin’ this?”  

“…three nights.”  

his nostrils flared.  

“three damn nights?” his voice was sharper now, and you flinched. not out of fear, but because you knew how much he hated this - hated seeing you worn down, pushing yourself past your limits. you’d hate to see him disappointed in you but in your defence, you thought he’d be home a whole lot later.

“i just - i had to, frank,” you whispered. “i got so behind, and i didn’t want you to come back to me all stressed and falling apart, so i just - ”  

his hands were on you before you could finish, tugging you up and out of the chair, wrapping you up tight against him. you didn’t even realize you were crying until he sighed against your hair, feeling the dampness on his shirt.  

“sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough with something heavy, something that made your chest ache. “you think i care ‘bout any of that? you think i want you doin’ this to yourself?”  

“i just wanted to keep up,” you sniffled, fingers fisting in his jacket. “i didn’t wanna be a mess when you got back.”  

he pulled back just enough to cup your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. his eyes, dark and tired but so damn full of love, locked onto yours.  

“you could be the biggest damn mess in the world, and i wouldn’t care. you hear me?” he said, low and firm. “don’t wanna come home to you runnin’ yourself into the ground. don’t wanna see you like this.”  

you nodded, lower lip trembling, and he groaned, pressing a kiss there, then another, then another, like he was trying to fix it, to erase the exhaustion, the stress, the weight you’d been carrying alone.  

“c’mon,” he muttered, tugging you toward the bedroom. “you’re done. no more of this.”  

“but - ”  

he shot you a look. “no buts. you’re gonna sleep.”  

you wanted to protest, but the second you hit the bed, exhaustion slammed into you like a tidal wave. you barely registered the weight of him next to you, pulling you against his chest, hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back.  

“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispered against your hair, voice soft, warm. “always.”  

and for the first time in three nights, you believed it.

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc, @erospecies

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[greyelfsworld]

They said what they said 🤷🏽‍♂️

[somanywords]

"be my valentine, buck?" "as opposed to the rest of the year when i'm what, chopped liver?"

trying a different painting technique and the colors and kissing just. happened naturally. good for them.

[1heartfanfics]

I would to see more Stucky. Maybe Bucky with a stomach ache being all cuddly with Steve? It would be especially cute if someone walks in and stares at Bucky because he's normally so closed off and reserved, but before they can say anything Steve shoots them a warning look and they back off. Belly rubs are always the bomb.

Thanks!!!

-🤍🐺

Combining with this request: I would love to see Steve sitting casually on the couch going through mission reports while a feverish and queasy Bucky is curled up in his lap like a sad house cat. The other avengers see this and are confused because it's the winter soldier, but Steve just shushes them and continues petting Bucky's hair and rubbing his belly like it's the most normal thing ever.

Nat and Clint both froze when they walked into the compound's living room space, surprised by what they saw. Steve was sitting on one of the couches, scrolling through something - probably mission reports - on his laptop. But the surprising part was that the winter soldier was laying down, curled up, with his head in Steve's lap.

Now, they all new that Steve and Bucky were... something. Something more than friends anyway. But no one had ever asked questions and they'd never said anything so everyone just let it be whatever it was.

"Hey, how was the mission?" Steve asked, having seen them standing in the doorway, lurking.

"Uh good, yeah. Went well," Clint said, cheeks flushing red at having been caught staring.

"Good. I'm just catching up on some mission reports," Steve explained, gesturing to his laptop. As if that was the reason they'd been staring.

"Is he okay?" Clint asked, nodding his head toward Bucky.

Steve shook his head, "He's not feeling well. Running a pretty good fever and been throwing up all day, poor thing," he answered.

There was a moment of silence. Nat and Clint were still a little stunned by the sight in front of them. The winter soldier - Bucky, they were supposed to call him now - was also so serious and gruff. So to see him curled up in Steve's lap in the middle of the common room was a shock to say the least.

Bucky groaned then, breaking the silence. Steve moved his hand away from the computer and brought it down to tousle Bucky's hair lovingly. In response, Bucky shifted, moving even further into Steve's lap and pressing himself closer to the other man.

"You're alright Buck," Steve said softly, carding his fingers through Bucky's long hair. His other arm was draped over Bucky's waist, hand resting on the man's stomach, which he began to rub gently back and forth.

Nat and Clint couldn't help but keep staring, even though they knew they should look away, leave, give them some privacy.

"He's not normally like this," Steve sighed, finally acknowledging the elephant in the room. "He's pretty out of it honestly, he probably doesn't even realize," he shrugged. "And I'd like to keep it that way," he added, giving the pair a pointed look.

"Understood," Nat said, giving a fake salute.

"We'll leave you to it," Clint nodded.

They turned and headed back down the hallway they'd come from, closing the door behind them to hopefully ward off anyone else from disturbing them.

"Well that was..." Clint trailed off, unsure of what he'd just witnessed.

"Cute," Nat finished for him, with a small smile.

"Yeah," Clint chuckled, "It was pretty cute."

[fckmebarnes]

I can’t stop thinking about beefy Bucky fingering you with the vibranium hand while the other one is holding your neck

-beefy bucky lover

his vibration hand has a vibrating setting in it and i fucking love writing that in my fics because you can’t tell me otherwise he suggests that feature

and you randomly turn it on one day asking what it’s for and giggling until he has you bent over his knee with the settings turned all the way up with your cunt clenching around him

“that answer your question, doll?” he asks as he’s fucking you through your orgasm on his fingers

[espinosaurusrexex]

You try to find Bucky a date but he only has eyes for you

a/n: playful Bucky and "clueless" reader are my new fave

word count: ~800

warnings: fun fluff, teeny bit angst

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Do you have any preferences for a partner?” You sat next to Bucky on the sofa in the common room, determined to find the perfect date for him upon request from Sam.

“Well, I’m very particular when it comes to my type.” Bucky clasped his hands in his lap as he eyed you opening your notes app. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of dating anyone. Well, anyone that wasn’t you to be clear. There was a reason he’d yet to ask anyone out since working here. The same reason he chose to entertain your attempt to set him up. He liked spending time with you. 

“Particular is good. More details mean I can find the perfect person for you.” You beamed at him and Bucky cursed under his breath when his heart did the somersault thing. 

Then he decided to shrug it off. “If you think so.”

Seemingly nonchalant, he watched you prepare some bullet points on your phone, itching to reach out and smack the thing from your grasp so you could hold his hand instead. 

“I am the perfect matchmaker, Bucky. You should be glad I’m helping you. The amount of feedback I’m given for my relationship expertise is unmatched.”

“Think I should check your references, doll,” Bucky smirked. “Cause you never once went on a date since I’ve been here.”

You stared at him blankly and Bucky took the opportunity to look at your lips. And just as he suspected, they looked perfectly kissable today.

“Coaches don’t play, Bucky.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, making Bucky chuckle. 

“Okay now, favorite hair color?”

“I do enjoy a nice y/h/c,” Bucky answered immediately. He knew you’d not let this go, so he might as well play into it. He knew exactly who his type was, so the questions shouldn’t be too hard. 

“Preferred height?” You typed away and Bucky stood and held up his hand to the spot he knew your head ended when you stood next to him. “Abooooout this tall.” 

You glanced at him swiftly, nodding and typing the info like a machine. Bucky chuckled again. You were so invested, he could probably say your name as his preferred one in a partner and you’d write it down without question. 

“Perfect eye color?” 

“Y/e/c.” You froze in your tracks for a second and then you proceeded to type. 

“Wait,” Bucky said, grabbing your face with his metal hand and looking into your eyes with furrowed brows. “Y/e/c with those beautiful speck in ‘em. That’s what I like...”

He watched as your pupils switched between his and Bucky wondered if you’d finally caught on. He wasn’t trying to hide it, after all. However, all he got was another moment of intimate eye contact before your jaw slightly pressed against his hand with the next question tumbling out of you.

“Preferred occupation?” There was the hint of a smile on your lips, and Bucky couldn’t have missed it. Maybe you were even wittier than he thought you to be. 

“Hmmm....” He tabbed his chin now embracing the game you’d invited him into. “I’d die for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.” He let go of your face. “Maybe an avenger even - I think that would be perfect for me.”

Bucky turned back slightly, now watching you out of the corner of his eye, heart hammering in his chest yet again. Your fingers typed furiously on that phone of yours and his hand began to sweat. It was fun while it lasted, now he’d have to go back to serious. 

“Bucky-“ his heart dropped when you whispered his name as you watched your notes. But then you put your phone down and grabbed his hands. God, this was worse. You’d let him down easy - somehow he wanted you to be clueless again. “I think I may have the perfect candidate for you.” 

That’s when he finally found the courage to look at you again. Firstly at your hands which were gently wrapped around his and then your face, where big eyes were watching him from below. 

His chest deflated when he saw the unreadable expression in your eyes. “You don’t have to-“

Bucky didn’t get to finish his sentence because warm pillowy lips were pressed to his and catapulted him into a state of utter shock and disbelief. After a few seconds of freeze mode, your fingers squeezed his gently, as a reminder that this was truly happening. And before any more time could have gone to waste, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you with an urgency that had settled deep in his bones. Maybe you weren’t so clueless after all...

Follow my library blog for fic updates! @espinosaurusrexex-library

[3twindragons]

GOT HIM!

[lanasgirlfr]

i want sabrina too :(

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Loyal Protector

(1-1)

Short story # 23

Gifs NOT mine.

Summary - After the whole world has died, you find yourself wandering the wastes with your loyal Captain at your side. And even in death Captain Steve Rogers swears to protect you at all costs.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 10 minutes

Sunlight glimmered off the iconic shield of Captain America, which hung from the dead man's arm like it was an extension of himself. Granted in many ways it was an extension of himself, in life and now even in death it would seem. (Y/n) looked at the reanimated corpse of her husband Captain Steve Rogers. Her heart ached painfully knowing she would never hear his voice again, be held in his strong sturdy arms, or share passionate kisses. Her Steve was gone, he died to buy her time to get away from the hord that had cornered them. Then three nights later she found herself face to face with his reanimated corpse. She'd held her pistol up with shaky hands, knowing she had to protect herself for his sake, or else his death would have been for nothing. Tears streamed down her face, unable to pull the trigger. A sob escaping her as he limped closer towards her, the hiss of his voice clutching at her broken heart, her lungs burning with every gasping breath she took.

Then he did something she never dreamed was possible. His hand pushed away her gun with purpose, placing himself before her, he rest his decaying forehead against her temple. They stayed that way for a short while, each of the growls and grunts escaping him made her jump. But she was to afraid to move away from him, afraid he would tear her apart the way the dead usually did with the living. They stood there like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n), but in reality it had only been a few minutes at best. The sound of shuffling footsteps made (Y/n) tense up, her spine going stiff and her heart hammering as adrenaline started pumping through her veins. The corpse of her late husband growled in dissatisfaction, and he whipped around faster than any reanimated corpse should, roaring in rage at the sight of another of the dead stumbling towards them. The Captain turned with a swiftness, throwing his shield at the intruding dead, the sheer force splitting the corpse in half at the waist. The shield ricochet off of a tree, and he caught it in a single smooth motion, as he did when he was alive. (Y/n) felt her bottom lip tremble, tears threatening to spill once more. He steps in front of her again, horse breath rattling in his failing repertory system. His head tilts a little to the left, and his free hand reaches out for her.

She flinches a little as his rotten fingers brushed her cheek, the touch gentle and uncertain. A sound bubbled from his torn throat, it sounded as if he were trying to speak, but it only managed to startle her. Again he shuffled closer, resting his forehead against her own, forcing her to look into his milky eyes. She wept at the sight of deep emotion swirling in his dead eyes. Her Captain, her Steve was still in there. "Steve." She whispered his name, her voice raw and broken. He made a sound like a purr, his eyes falling shut while he simply held her. She found herself leaning into his touch, finding comfort in knowing that his love for her eclipsed his now base desire to kill and feed. (Y/n) stumbled on a bit of rubble as they wondered the empty streets, and with reflexes no dead man should have, Steve caught her and stood her upright. "Thank you." She murmured softly, a faint smile ghosting her lips at the grunt of acknowledgement he gave in response. A noise from within a nearby building sprung the Captain into action, pulling (Y/n) to stand behind him, his shield held up in defense. A shot rang out from the building, and a bullet ricochet off of the iconic shield, making Steve roar with rage.

The last thing (Y/n) ever expected to see was her old friend Bucky to emerge from the building. His rifle held up and pointed at the Captain, who shifted to further guard (Y/n). "Bucky." She called out, peaking out from behind her deceased husband. The super soldier seemed to freeze at the sight of her, before his gaze hardened on his old pal. "(Y/n)? What are you?- Get away from him!" He tried to reason, his expression turning to near panic when (Y/n) moved to stand in front of Steve. "It's okay." She tried to tell her friend, who looked ready to bolt any second. "He... He won't hurt me." She explained, looking back at her husband who growled at Bucky, ready to defend (Y/n) at a moments notice. "Are you crazy? That's not Steve, not anymore!" Bucky hollered at her, wanting to protect his old pals wife. "He's still in there Buck, he protects me." (Y/n) told him, turning back to Steve, she touched his decaying face. Bucky wanted to shout to her, convenience her to run, but he was stunned into silence when Steve merely leaned into her touch, his glassy eyes closing and a rumble of a purr emanating from his rotten lungs.

"(Y/n) come with me, I have a small group of survivors, I'll keep you safe." Bucky said as he took a small step towards the two, Steve growled in warning, his attention snapping to Bucky, who froze in his tracks. "I don't think that would be safe." She said with a sad smile. "We should... We should let him rest." Bucky tried, flinching at the look of betrayal that flashed in (Y/n)'s eyes. "I can't do that Buck, he's my husband, and I still love him." She hissed at her friend, appalled that he would suggest that they kill Steve. "He's dead (Y/n)." Bucky reasoned. "Steve is still in there Bucky, why else would he keep protecting me?" She argued. "Please (Y/n) we have a compound, it's safe, secure. Let him rest." The soldier wouldn't give up so easily. "I won't leave him, I refuse to loose him." (Y/n) shot back, her agitation setting Steve on edge. The zombie growled deep and threateningly, a warning to Bucky to back off. "I'm staying out here, I don't care how dangerous it is, I won't leave Steve behind." She told her friend, her hand taking a delicate hold of Steve's arm, the one not holding his shield. "Fine... Bring him with you, but please come to the compound." Bucky said, taking a small step towards her. "I don't think that would be safe, not for the others." (Y/n) looked to her husband, knowing that if he thought anyone would be a threat to her, he'd kill them without a second thought.

"We'll make it safe, we'll set up a place away from the others for you. I can't in good faith just leave you out here." Bucky said again stepping closer, his anxiety easing a little, when Steve seemed to accept the distance closing between them. Steve's head turned to observe his wife, seemingly understanding what was going on. "If he remembers you, maybe he remembers me too." Bucky murmured quietly, holding out his metal hand to his old friend, who peered at him with milky eyes. When Bucky reached the pair, he touched the star on his dead friends uniform. A low rumble of noise rattled in the dead soldiers tattered throat, his grip on his shield tightening, though he didn't intend on striking. "If we can convince him, get him adjusted to being near the others, maybe we can make this work." Bucky said, as he let his hand fall away from the Captain. "I think it would be best if we stayed out here." (Y/n) murmured, not wanting anyone to attack Steve. "Fine... Then I'm staying out here with you, both of you." Bucky concluded, with a look of determination in his eyes. "Bucky you don't have to-" She tried telling him, but he cut her off. "Yes I do. If he could speak, Steve would agree with me." He said and (Y/n) glanced to her husband, who did seem to agree with what Bucky was saying. "Okay." She breathed out with a soft sigh.

[katxbuckyx]

Coming home to you/ Bucky Barnes x reader

I had a rough few weeks so I wrote something!

Warnings: None, just coming home to a surprise.

Enjoy!

(Gif's not mine!)

****

Imagine coming home from a hard day at work. You’re exhausted, almost to the point of losing feeling in your legs. You were drained after a whole day working and walking. The only thing you were dreaming about was something to eat, drink, a warm bath and sleep. And your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes. You couldn’t just do that. He wasn’t at home. There were laundry waiting for you to make it, dinner to prepare, and of course, the dry clothes you had to iron and fold. And the dreaded dished you hated to do.

The past few days were hard. You had a lot on your mind. Your work as an assistant was giving you a hard time. You almost handed your notice when your boss shouted at you. The company was on verge of bankruptcy, and everyone were on their tiptoes because of the anger of the company’s CEO. So, you were running after your boss with coffee in your one hand, and his documents in the other. You were so emotionally drained, because every mistake, and inconvenience was taken out on you. And you slowly had enough.

And if not problems at work, you had family issued with about which you couldn’t do anything about it. So, you just watched and prayed it would all work out in the end. It was straining your already weak nerves. Also, while you were driving to your home, your car had broken down. And you couldn’t repair it, and you have to buy a new one. The old one wasn’t in any use anymore.

And on top of that, you missed your boyfriend. Bucky and you were almost inseparable. Especially after you moved in together. Being without him for so long was a torture for both of you. He was on a mission for two weeks. You had missed his warm embrace, his words of affection and assurance. The way he held you when your world was crumbling, and the way you held him when he had another nightmare. You hated when you come home from a bad day at work and you couldn’t bury yourself in his strong arms, relishing the warmth of his broad chest. The way he would love the stress out of your body. Not only by hugging you. And he wasn’t here now, so you had to be brave and survive without him for one more day until he would finally come back home to you.

You dropped the bag on the floor, groaning heavily. You didn’t want to do any chores today, but you had to. Bucky was on mission, he would come back tomorrow, and the house was a mess. You had to get a grip. You couldn’t let the past few harsh days get to you. With a sigh, you entered the kitchen.

And you stood in the entrance, dumbfounded. The room was clean, almost polished to perfection. The dishes were done and hid in the cabinet. You were stunned. What was going on? You quickly walked into the bedroom, only to find the clothes not only perfectly ironed, but folded in the drawers? You thought you were dreaming, or hallucinating. Was it possible that you were so tired that you could had imagined all of that? No, that couldn’t be possible.

You started walking around the house, looking for traces of a burglary attempt, but then you almost facepalmed yourself. The burglar wouldn’t clean your kitchen or fold your clothes. There was only one explanation. And you were about to check that. You headed to the bathroom. With a beating heart, you opened it.

“Missed me?” you heard a familiar voice coming from the foggy, steaming interior. Your face instantly lightened up when you recognised his voice.

“Bucky!” you exclaimed, taking a notice that he was sitting in a bath. The foam covering almost all of his body, making him look so heavenly. You wanted to get in the tub with him and sink into him. You realised that he must’ve done all the chores, and you loved him for that.

“Wanna join me, doll?” he asked, smirking. He waved his hand at you, inviting you in.

And how could you deny him?