#addicted to love

[cosmonautroger]

Robert Palmer, Addicted To Love, 1985

[singinprincess]

MEG RYAN in Addicted to Love (1997)

[the80s]

The models in Robert Palmer’s "Addicted To Love" video, 1985 and 2014

[navybrat817]

Hunger

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky would rather eat in than go out. Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content (fingers and mouth, f. receiving), light possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: A little something for our Addicted to Love couple. Hope you lovelies like it! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Header by yours truly. Banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass and divider by the wonderful @rookthorne. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky tried to cancel his breakfast plans with Steve and Sam.

Again.

You encouraged him to grab a bite to eat with the guys and he had every intention of going. He truly did. The moment he saw you in your black bra and panties when he poked his head in to check on you though, there was only one thing he wanted to eat.

“She needs me.”

He didn’t bother looking at the response from the text he sent. Steve and Sam knew it meant that he needed you. If they had you standing in front of them looking like a feast, they would’ve rearranged their plans, too.

Sorry, boys. Not sharing.

“Hey. I thought you were heading out,” you said as you headed toward the closet, seemingly unaware of the enticing sway of your hips.

Minx.

“I’m having breakfast here,” he replied in a low voice.

You stopped when he moved in front of you, a look of concern crossing your face. “Wait, you’re not going? How come?”

He picked up on your worry as he shook his head, wanting to halt the turning wheels in your head. You turned his life upside down beyond the sexual chemistry you two shared. You cared about his mental well-being and wanted to be sure everything was okay if he ever broke plans.

Still a wonder some days that you love me.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed.

He wasn’t sure if the look in his eyes was adoration or hunger or a bit of both, but your body tensed as he took a step toward you. The sharp inhale drew his attention to your chest and he could sense your nipples hardening against the fabric. “Bucky, my beauty is not a reason to skip breakfast.”

“Who said I was skipping my meal?” he asked, bringing his hand up to touch your cheek. His fingers moved along your skin until they stopped at your neck. Your body shivered as his thumb brushed along your pulsepoint. “All you have to do is lay down and let me eat.”

Your eyes slipped shut as he guided you to the bed, not needing to look as he led.

Because you trust me enough to never lead you down the wrong path.

“Bucky, you need to see your friends,” you urged, though your voice sounded more like a caress than an order as he helped lay you down.

Though you couldn’t see it, he smirked. “So, you don’t need me?” he asked as he hovered over you.

“Of course, I need you,” you said, not the least bit embarrassed as you opened your eyes and gazed up at him. “And I know you can tell that I’m wet without touching me, but I’ll let you feel.”

He lost his train of thought when you wrapped your fingers around his wrist. He wasn’t sure how this turned into you seducing him, but his heart pounded when you guided his hand into your panties. His cock throbbed with need as his fingers slid along your folds.

You drive me fucking crazy. I need to be inside you.

Bucky was a former assassin. A soldier. A machine. Just one touch of your silken heat and he nearly crumbled. The mere presence of you broke his resolve. The strange thing about it was he still felt in control.

How?

He wasn’t rough when he pushed a finger inside, but your hands flew up to grip his arms with a gasp. Like you were ready to collapse along with him. Falling apart is the inhale. Piecing you back together is the exhale.

“If you need me, why are you pushing me to go?” he asked, lazily pumping his finger.

His blue eyes widened when you brought your hand back to his wrist and squeezed it twice to stop his movements. You pulsed around his finger like you needed more, but he refused to move since you gave him a signal to stop. He searched your face to make sure there was no visible pain and relaxed when you sat up slightly to kiss him.

He didn’t relax completely even though he moved his lips against yours.

Tell me why you stopped me, please.

"I love you and you love me,” you whispered, giving him another soft kiss. “But you also need them.”

Bucky swallowed as he gently removed his finger and pulled his hand free of your panties. You wanted him to have a sense of normalcy after everything he went through. He appreciated that more than he could say.

“So, you’re okay with me going out?” he asked.

“You don’t need my permission to get breakfast with Steve and Sam,” you assured him. "Just have fun and tell them I said hi."

In a world where he didn’t have choices for so long, he sometimes still felt the need to ask. But even your urging and suggestions weren’t formed as orders. It was encouragement. You would never force him to do anything he didn’t want to, even something as small as a meal.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “And I love you, too.”

He’d thank you forever for loving him.

“And here’s a taste of what’s waiting for you when you’re done,” you smiled, bringing his hand to his mouth.

He sucked on his finger, watching you as your head fell back against the bed. Hunger filled your eyes, too, but you kept it at bay so he could go out. Like he did on the days you went out with your friends.

We’ll always come home to each other, won’t we?

“I don’t think that’s enough,” he said once he licked his finger clean, the flavor of you making him crave more.

“That’s too bad. You need to-”

He tore the offending fabric off before you could finish. “Just one more taste.”

“Bucky, I liked those,” you groaned as he sank down and opened your legs.

“They were in my way.”

Closing his eyes, he licked a slow stripe along your slit, growling as his nose brushed your clit. He stayed for a moment, savoring your taste, scent, feel. His personal treasure. His everything.

Mine. All mine.

“Just a taste,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clit as your thighs trembled.

“What?” you asked in confusion as he suddenly got to his feet, leaving you open and empty as you lifted your head.

“See? I have self control,” he said, tucking your torn underwear in his pocket.

“Tell that to your cock,” you said, nodding at his crotch before your head fell back again. The jeans did nothing to hide his hardness and he’d have to find a way to make that go away when he left. “Bring me back something, please?”

“Your favorite,” he promised. “And I think it’s only fair to finish what I started when I get back.”

“You better,” you smiled, blowing him a kiss. “I’ll be here waiting.”

Bucky didn’t tell you that he planned to get his breakfast to go. Or that Steve and Sam placed a bet on how long it would take for him to rush home to you. It didn’t matter.

Because you still had your legs wide open when he got back.

Bucky deserves the love and can eat whenever he wants. Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[howifeltabouthim]

'Ever since I've been grown-up I've been some sort of slave. I was always stupidly in love.'

Iris Murdoch, from A Fairly Honourable Defeat

[ultra-francesca-mercury]

may 3

1986

Propelled by a memorable video where lookalike models vamp the song, Robert Palmer's "Addicted To Love" hits #1 on the Hot 100.

[addictedtorobertpalmer]

Robert Palmer and John Taylor, 1985

[mtvscreengrabs]

Addicted to Love - Robert Palmer (1985)

[djevilninja]

You can't sleep, you can't eat - There's no doubt, you're in deep. Your throat is tight, you can't breathe - Another kiss is all you need.

Robert Palmer - Addicted to Love

[cosmonautroger]

Kim Gordon, Addicted To Love, 1988

[salmonellr]

she will never love you as much as i do

you can try to forget me, but deep down you’ll always know that with me you’d be more loved, that you’d be happier, and that you’ll never be loved that much by her, ever

so come back, crawl back to me and i’ll love you more than anyone else possibly ever could <3

[misterlemonztenth]

05-03-24 | Addicted to Love, Robert Palmer, 1985. via snowangelsoul. misterlemonztenth.tumblr.com/archive

[navybrat817]

How is addicted to love Bucko doing? 🥺

He had a bit of a rough morning, nonnie.

Revere

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky assumes the worst after a bad dream.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Slight angst, a touch of fluff, talk of nightmares, Bucky thinking the worst of himself, implied E.S.C., Bucky Barnes in love (he’s a warning, okay?).

A/N: Unplanned fic and I hope you lovelies enjoy. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Header by yours truly, banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass , and divider by the amazing @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky would never be the perfect man, but he wanted to be the best version of himself that he could be. His nightmares, however, served as a reminder that he used to be a monster. No, that wasn't right. He was not a monster.

He was always there in his own mind though, trapped in a cage with the key out of reach. A version of himself in the mask couldn't give it to him as he was dragged away to inflict more pain. The weapon that was his body caused unspeakable horror while all he could do was scream for no one to hear.

And for the first time, he heard you scream back at him to save you.

His lungs burned as he sat up in bed, a light bead of sweat on his brow as he inhaled. It was difficult to make out in the dark where he was before he remembered he was in his own bedroom. Another deep breath surrounded him with familiar, calming scents, like your perfume lingering on the sheets. He began to count to ten in his head as he rubbed his face with both hands.

One. My name is Bucky Barnes. Two. I am no longer the Winter Soldier. Three. I didn't hurt anyone. Four. I'm home. Five. You're-

His hands dropped when he realized he didn't hear your steady breathing. The sheet was cold beside him as he stretched his arm to touch nothing. You weren't there. If you didn't have items occupying the room, he would've thought you had been a figment of his imagination.

A dream that slipped away like his memories when he woke up.

Bucky didn't call out for you immediately, but panic began to bubble in his chest when he didn't hear a single noise in the apartment. He snatched his phone from the nightstand and didn't see any missed calls or texts. You didn't have to work today and you hadn't mentioned running any errands. There was no note for him on the nightstand.

Nothing.

"Pick up, please," he whispered when he dialed your number.

You didn't answer.

Tears brimmed his eyes as he hung up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, torn between rage and fright as he tried to keep from shaking. Did someone find you? Take you away? Were you the price to pay for his sins?

What am I supposed to do?

He bolted to the bedroom door and threw it open when he heard the key turn in the front door handle, thankful that he slipped a pair of boxers on the night before. He ran into the living room just in time to see you carefully open the door with one hand as you balanced a small box with the other. You quietly pushed the door closed with your foot, like you were trying not to make any noise.

"You're okay," he whispered as you turned around with a smile.

You're real. You're safe. You're home.

"Bucky, you should still be asleep," you said before you got a good look at him and set the box and your keys on the hallway table. "What's wrong?"

He went to you and framed your face with his hands, trying to silently assure you that he was okay. But the corners of his lips tugged into a tight smile, too tense to say that he was just fine. The cool air from outside clung to your skin as he breathed in and a sweet scent from the box drifted to his nostrils as well. Another familiar smell from a time before he knew real pain.

"You're okay," his voice cracked and it took everything in him not to crush his body against yours.

"Bucky, did you have a nightmare?" you asked, holding onto his wrists with a worried gaze.

"Yeah," he answered, wishing in that moment that he could be a normal guy for you. "I woke up and I called you and-"

"I wasn't there and I didn't answer," you finished for him, gently batting his hands away from your face so you could lead him back into the living room to sit on the couch. "Bucky, I'm so sorry. I was trying to surprise you and thought I'd be back before you got up."

Of course, you did. You're an amazing girlfriend.

"You're home now," he said as he sat beside you.

Here in our sanctuary where danger can't permeate these walls if I can help it.

Shades of yellow and orange crept into the room through the window as the sun came up more, the silence stretching on before he found himself with his head in your lap. You stroked his hair back with a tiny smile when he turned to look at you, but you didn't push him to talk about his nightmare. He was thankful for that.

He usually woke you when he had a nightmare and you never complained as you soothed him. Not once. You were always beside him.

Until today.

"I'm sorry," he said, his throat tight as he felt his mind drift far away.

Your touch brought him back.

“Don't be. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me,” you said softly. "And I'm sorry I didn't leave a note. I really thought I'd be back, but that's no excuse."

He swallowed as guilt set in. You went out to surprise him and now you were apologizing because he couldn't handle having a bad dream. You did so much for him, for others. He didn't want to be one more person who had to turn to you.

“You’re here. You're always here when I need you and I appreciate that so much,” he promised, swallowing a little again. “But I heard you scream."

"In your nightmare?" you guessed as he shut his eyes. "Oh, Bucky. I'm okay. I'm right here," you assured him.

"I just got scared when I woke up alone."

Logically, he knew the chances of something happening to you were slim, but the fright he felt after his bad dream was enough to deter him when he woke up in an empty, cold bed.

"And I didn't actually get up until I heard the front door," he continued, trying to find the right words. "It was like I couldn't move until I heard the key in the door."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't."

"How long were you awake before I got back?" you asked.

"Not long," he said as he thought about it. "But you should be able to depend on me should you be in trouble."

"And I can. I know I can. I don't think you give yourself enough credit," you said, running your fingers through his hair again in a soothing pattern. "You said you called me. I'll bet you listened for me, too."

"But I felt like I froze," he said. "Like I didn't take enough action."

Like whatever went wrong was my fault.

"Calling me was a form of taking action," you pointed out. "Had I not walked through the door, I know you would have gotten up and looked for me if something was wrong."

"That's true," he agreed. He would have done everything in power to find or help you had something happened. He just didn't understand why he jumped to a terrible conclusion instead of thinking logically. "So why was I so scared today?

"Because you're human and you woke up from what was likely a very realistic nightmare."

The horrors that went through his dark dreams actually happened and he didn't want your pain to become one of those twisted memories.

"I'm messed up," he whispered as he opened his eyes.

Not my fault, but I am.

"You're not messed up. You're a work in progress. We all are," you said with such earnestness that his heart ached. "Some days won't be easy, but you learn from your experiences and allow yourself to feel. You may even learn to give yourself the grace you deserve."

There was no frustration or impatience in your tone. Nothing to admonish him for why he felt the way he did. Only infinite patience and love that he was lucky enough to receive.

"And if I stumble along the way?" he asked.

"Stumbling means you're doing something right, Bucky," you said, helping him sit up. "To me, it isn't about how you fall. It's how you pick yourself up again."

Bucky shifted closer with a hint of a smile. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

How do you soothe the pain inside me?

"I don't, but I do want to help."

You already are.

"The box by the door. What is it?" he asked.

"Oh," you said as you dropped your head for a second. "You mentioned that old bakery you liked and I made sure to get up extra early so I could bring you back something."

"The Italian Bakery?" he smiled.

"Yeah, that one," you smiled at him.

He mentioned it to you when he told you an old story. No wonder the smell reminded him of a happier time. It shouldn't have shocked him that you wanted to surprise him.

"You must have been quiet. Hard to sneak past me," he half joked.

"You were in a pretty deep sleep when I left. I must have worn you out last night," you teased as he chuckled, a quiet and heartfelt sound. "I thought it would be nice treat for you to wake up to."

There was still a bit of tension in Bucky's body as he kissed your lips, but he could breathe easier.

My beautiful, thoughtful other half.

"Thank you."

"I can go get it," you offered.

"Stay here?" he asked when you moved to stand, not letting you go. "Please?"

Just stay right here when I can see and touch you.

"Okay," you whispered.

Bucky didn't allow himself to cry immediately as he held you and traded lazy kisses, but he let a tear slip by the time he pulled you into his lap after he wordlessly tore at your fabric that covered your skin. He mouthed a declaration of love against your lips as his breath caught in his throat, revered by you. Maybe you were the price of his sins, but he would find a way to be your savior.

The man and hero you deserve.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

You gasped when Bucky slid his cock into you and gently took hold of your hips when he couldn't go any deeper. He throbbed inside you and nosed along your neck as you shuddered. Fucking you properly was what his body wanted to do. His mind, on the other hand, didn't need to go any further for now.

He just needed the comfort of you, his home.

And the depths of his mind, the key slid into place and unlocked the cage.

Maybe it wasn't so far out of reach after all.

Oh, I love him. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Addicted to Love Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[howifeltabouthim]

He doesn't love me anymore, she mourned, and she became filled with a gut-wrenching terror. For she had grown to depend on his love, and she was firmly convinced that without it she would vaporize, and nothing would be left of her at all.

Anna Biller, from Bluebeard's Castle

[mo-vamp]

Strangers.

By Mo Reynolds

The sun and the moon, met to go together, but always separated by time. I was the sun, and she was the moon, I brought her light, and she came around during the dark times, and always pulled me back up. But one day things changed, I was too oblivious to realize, but things changed, and after time so did I. As she slowly started leaving, so did my sun and everyone realized but me. Everyone around me tried to bring back the light, but more and more as time went buy, the light got dimmer, dimmer, and dimmer. In a world where we are all just human, you started to treat me like a god, you only came to me when it was convenient for you, but every other day I was nothing but a ghost, someone to be forgotten. In a world where we are all living for the first time, we all make mistakes, but me, I would have never treated you like that.

You came to me as an angel in a world full of ghosts but you left as satan with nothing but my soul and heart in your hand. I followed you like I had a ball and chain, only it was connected to me and you, I tried to make us last like everything depended on it, but in reality only thing depending on you was me. You brought me to life, but then took it away as well, you made me something I thought I’d never become, and I thought you were the only one that could save me not realizing you were the reason I ended up the way I did, I was frozen in time without your touch and love. Only you could see behind my walls, only you knew the real me. I would call out to you, thinking you were helping, only to realize you were blurring my vision more and more, you were my ecstasy, making me feel full of energy, but once you were gone, everything was grey and my battery was out.

The woman I once knew, was gone and I could do nothing but sit there, only it wasn’t you I was missing anymore, the woman that was gone, was me. I looked at myself and I didn’t see me anymore, I saw you, only I wasn’t happy about it, I wasn’t sad about it, I felt nothing. You took away everything, not just physically, but mentally as well, as you took away my friends one by one symbolizing my happiness slowly leaving. At some point I used to love the feeling you gave me, like ecstasy, but after awhile it was too much and I couldn’t breathe anymore, I felt entangled in nothing but manipulation and lies, I was being hung from a rope called your love, or I thought was love.

You’d come back, but every time you did, I got worse and worse, in denial, I let you come back, by the time I had come to my senses I was already 6 feet under, I clawed my way out inch by inch, day by day. It took me years to finally get over you, you were my everything but now? We are nothing but strangers, which is weird, because when I see you now, your a stranger, but you know my interests, my favorite food, my favorite color, my dreams and my goals. When I see you I no longer am happy but now feel nothing, we were made of glass we’d never last. We moved fast but then we crashed. I just wish I knew that sooner.

[addictedtorobertpalmer]

Robert Palmer and John Taylor as The Power Station in MUSIC LIFE (a Japanese music magazine), May 1985.