#fluffy bucky barnes x y/n

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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[the-winter-spider]

Deserve you | Drabble

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: fluffffff

A/N: Heres the sweet one. 🫶🏻 debating on doing an angsty one lol Happy valentines day 💞

---

The first thing you notice when you wake up is warmth.

Not just the cozy kind from the blankets wrapped around you, but a warmth that settles deep in your chest, the kind that only comes from Bucky pressed up against your back, his arm draped lazily over your waist. The slow, steady rise and fall of his breath against your skin is hypnotic, anchoring you in the quiet, golden glow of early evening..

You both got back late or was it considered early from a stake out, not that it mattered.

Outside, the world is still and heavy with fresh snow, the soft hush of it settling against the windowsill. The setting sun filtering through the curtains casts everything in a muted glow, turning your shared space into something dreamlike, something sacred.

You shift slightly, and before you can get too far, a strong arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Mmm, don’t move,” Bucky mumbles into your shoulder, his voice thick with sleep, gravelly in a way that makes something in your stomach flip.

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you lace your fingers through his, feeling the contrast of warmth and cool metal against your skin. “You say that every time.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” he grumbles. His lips brush against the nape of your neck, a lazy, featherlight kiss that lingers longer than necessary. His smile is slow and content against your skin.

It’s these moments that make your heart ache in the best way, the way he clings to you in the early hours, the sleepy, half-mumbled words that slip past his lips, the way he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“You’re clingy,” you tease, though you don’t move away. You never do.

His grip tightens just slightly, as if in silent agreement. “’S’only ‘cause I love you.”

You feel those words settle inside you, low and deep, like they belong there. Like they were always meant to. No matter how many times he says it, it still sends a rush of warmth through your chest, still feels like something you’ll never get tired of hearing.

You roll over, finally facing him, and your fingers reach up to smooth the dark strands of hair away from his forehead. He looks utterly at peace like this, eyes still heavy-lidded with sleep, but there’s something else there too. Something softer. Something real.

“And I love you Bucky Barnes.”

“Can't believe that, never can.” His lips twitch into the laziest smile, the kind that makes your stomach flip, the kind he only ever gives you. His fingers trace slow, absentminded patterns along your spine, grounding himself in you, in this.

“Stay in bed with me,” he whispers, barely brushing his lips against yours, stealing the words from your mouth before you can say them first.

You pretend to hesitate, to consider it but you both know the answer is already yes.

Because there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than here, wrapped up in him.

And so, you stay.

His fingers trace gentle, meandering lines across your bare shoulder, his touch so impossibly light that it makes your skin hum. He’s watching you again, really watching you. Like he’s memorizing every detail, like he’s trying to commit you to memory just in case this moment vanishes.

There’s something unspoken in his gaze, something heavy beneath the softness.

Then, barely above a whisper “I never thought I could have this.”

Your breath catches.

The words slip out like a confession, like they’ve been sitting on his tongue for a long time, waiting for the right moment to break free. His fingers still against your skin, as if speaking them aloud makes them real.

“Bucky…”

His hand finds yours beneath the covers, his fingers lacing with yours like he’s afraid to let go. A sharp inhale, the kind that makes his chest rise and fall just a little too quickly.

“I spent so long thinking…” He swallows, eyes flickering downward, like he can’t quite bring himself to look at you when he says it. “Thinking I wasn’t meant for this.”

The words are careful, like they’re fragile, like he’s still afraid they might shatter in his hands.

“I always wanted this but after everything I knew, I felt like I wasn’t supposed to have this.” His voice is quiet but firm, raw in a way that makes your heart twist. “The lifetime with Hydra, the things I did… even after Steve got me out, I still felt like—” He exhales sharply through his nose, jaw tightening. “Like I didn’t deserve anything other than what I’d already been given.”

You shake your head instinctively, already about to argue, but before you can, he squeezes your hand.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice rough around the edges. “Let me finish.”

There’s no frustration, no sharpness, just quiet determination. He needs to get this out.

“You changed that for me.” His voice wavers just slightly, his fingers coming up to cradle your face, thumb sweeping along your cheekbone with a tenderness that nearly undoes you. “You make me feel like I deserve to be here. That I deserve more than just surviving. That I actually deserve you. That I deserve something even after everything that I—he did.”

His voice cracks, just a little.

And then, softer

“But I would endure all of that again in any lifetime if it meant I got to have this with you.”

The air in your lungs disappears.

A single tear slips down his cheek before he can stop it, and for a moment, he looks almost embarrassed like he’s not used to being this vulnerable, this open. But you reach up before he can turn away, brushing the tear away with your thumb, letting your fingers linger on the rough stubble of his jaw.

“Because you do deserve it, Bucky,” you whisper.

Your voice is steady, but the emotion behind it is anything but.

“You deserve all of this. To be happy. To be loved. To wake up in the morning and not feel like you have to fight to exist.” Your fingers tighten in his hair as you hold him closer. “You deserve to be here. With me.”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his blue eyes impossibly bright. But he doesn’t look away.

He won’t look away.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, voice barely above a whisper.

A tear slips free, rolling slowly down the bridge of his nose, and you don’t stop yourself from catching it with your lips as you press the softest, most reverent kiss to his cheek.

“I love you too.”

And then you kiss him.

Slow. Deep.

Like you’re trying to kiss away every dark thought, every lingering doubt, every cruel whisper that ever told him he was unworthy of love.

Bucky sighs into it, pulling you impossibly closer, like he wants to breathe you in, like he wants to carve this moment into eternity.

When you finally break apart, his nose nudges against yours, his lips brushing over your cheek, down to your jaw. His breath is warm against your skin as he murmurs, “I know we have that double date with Sam, but… just stay a little longer.”

You smile, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

A small pause. A soft, content sigh.

Then, in that same sleepy, gravelly voice…

“Oh, by the way….Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head, pressing another kiss to his lips, just because you can.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bucky.”

[m4rv3l-girl]

Hi I was wondering if you'd be able to maybe write fluff about Bucky and his dog tags? Like he leaves them at your place after a movie night in hopes you wear them and you did and he gets all proud and happy that you openly are his but subtly? Thank you love your writing!

Engraved

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Movie nights with Bucky Barnes had become a comfortable routine. It wasn’t something you’d planned, not exactly. The first time, he’d just shown up at your apartment, an old VHS copy of Casablanca in hand, and mumbled something about how you “needed to be properly educated.”

One movie turned into two, then three, and before you knew it, Friday nights were permanently reserved for the two of you—him stretched out on your couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on his chest, and you curled up beside him, legs tangled together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Last night had been no different. He’d fallen asleep before the end credits rolled, his weight warm and solid against your side. You’d thought about waking him, but the sight of him—peaceful, unguarded—was too rare to disturb. Instead, you’d thrown a blanket over him and let him sleep while you quietly cleaned up. It wasn’t until morning, after he’d mumbled his goodbyes and disappeared out the door, that you noticed what he’d left behind.

His dog tags.

You found them resting on your coffee table, the thin silver chain catching the light. Your fingers ghosted over the cool metal as you picked them up, the engraved letters sharp and familiar. James Buchanan Barnes.

You weren’t sure if he’d left them by accident or on purpose, but the thought of him wanting you to have them sent warmth pooling in your chest. They were his, but they felt like him, like some quiet claim he’d placed on you without needing to say a word.

A smile tugged at your lips as you slipped them over your head. The weight of them was steady, grounding. It was different from wearing a necklace, less decorative, more meaningful. Intimate. The kind of thing you’d have to be willing to explain if someone asked. The kind of thing that meant something.

Bucky showed up later that evening, knocking on your door like he always did—two short raps, a pause, then another. You pulled the door open to find him standing there, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, eyes flickering over you like he was cataloging every detail. It took him a second to notice, but when he did, his breath hitched.

His dog tags, resting against your collarbone, nestled into the valley between your breasts like they belonged there.

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, he stepped closer, fingers brushing the metal where it lay against your skin.

“You’re wearin’ ‘em,” he said, voice softer than usual, almost awed.

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was. “Yeah.”

A slow grin crept onto his face, something warm and proud flickering behind his eyes. “Look good on you, doll.”

Heat crept up your neck, but you didn’t look away. “Guess that means they’re mine now.”

Bucky huffed out a breath, something caught between a laugh and a sigh. His thumb traced over the engraving, barely there. “Guess it does.”

The moment stretched between you, thick with something unspoken. The dog tags were subtle, not an obvious declaration, but Bucky had never needed words to make himself clear. He was looking at you like you were the best thing he’d ever seen, and it hit you then—this was his way of showing you were his. Not in a possessive way, but in a quiet, steady kind of love that didn’t need to be shouted to be real.

Bucky ducked his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek. When he pulled back, his grin was still there, softer now, but just as proud.

“Keep ‘em safe for me, yeah?”

You smiled, fingers curling around the cool metal. “Always.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment before he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the couch, his usual spot already claimed as he made himself comfortable. You followed, perching on the arm of the sofa as he reached for you, his hand wrapping around your wrist before tugging you down beside him.

“You really like ‘em, huh?” he murmured, fingers brushing over the chain again, as if reassuring himself they were still there.

You nodded. “I do. Feels… right.”

Bucky exhaled, something deep and satisfied in the way his chest rose and fell. “Yeah, it does.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the weight of his hand against yours, the warmth of his body close beside you. Then, with a chuckle, he nudged your shoulder. “So, what’re we watchin’ tonight?”

You smirked, reaching for the remote. “Hope you’re ready, Barnes. It’s a rom-com kind of night.”

He groaned, but the way he settled in, arm draped over your shoulders, told you he didn’t really mind. Not if it meant spending the night with you, dog tags and all.

——————————————————————————————————

Heyy, I love doing fluffy little fics like this! I hope you enjoyed it ❤️

[imtryingbuck]

You’re Perfect.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Bucky feels down about his scars so Y/n and Steve cheer him up.

Word count: 642

Warnings:  sad Bucky (major warning!!) fluff. insecurities. violence to someone who deserves it. super short.

Masterlist

You both knew something was wrong the moment Bucky stepped into the apartment, at first you both thought it was because he had been on a mission but normally he would be sweeping you up in his arms the moment he laid eyes on you, taking you over to Steve to share a kiss with your boyfriend, but today he came in quietly and headed straight to the bedroom and locked the door behind him. Steve gave you a questioning look which had you shaking your head, heart aching at not knowing what was wrong with your boyfriend.

“Buck? Baby what’s wrong?” you asked leaning against the bedroom door.

“N-Nothing, I’m fine doll”

“No you’re not, Buck can you let us in please?”

“I-Is Stevie with you?”

“Of course I’m here” your boyfriend says from next to you, holding your hand.

You and Steve stood patiently waiting for Bucky to make his mind up, not long after the door locks clicked. Waiting until you heard the brunet sit back on your shared bed before opening the door. There he sat at the edge of the bed looking smaller then you had ever seen him, slowly bouncing his leg up and down, gazing down at his hand in such disgust.

Sitting on either side of him once again waiting patiently for him to talk first, knowing that it was better for him and that way he wouldn’t shut down completely and act like everything was fine. “Do-do you two think its disgusting?”

“What are you talking about Buck?” Steve asks.

“My arm an-and the scars?”

“Absolutely not! Who said that about you?” you replied instantly, not once in the three years you three finally stopped tip toeing around the bush and confessed your feelings did you think that about him. Well even way before that, you always admired his arm, always thought his scars were beautiful.

“It doesn’t matter”

“Yes it does, whoever has said something Buck we need to know” the blond says before you could reply.

“Julie… you know the agent?”

“Bucky, your arm is incredible and yours scars are beautiful, no one and I mean no one is as strong as you to have gone through all that you have and still see the beauty that life has to offer.”

“B-but she said I was a monster and she’s right”

“Stop that, don’t ever think that about yourself. You’re not a monster Bucky. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out, you’ve made amends with those who were affected by him, and you’re an amazing boyfriend and friend.”

“You have the most infectious laugh out of everyone I know, you’re kind and thoughtful, you put everyone else’s needs before your own. You give and give and never asked for anything in return, Bucky Barnes you are not a monster.” You take over from Steve. Bucky sits there and nods.

“’m not a monster”

“Say it again”

“I’m not a monster”

“Now say Y/n is the best”

“Doll… don’t make him lie”

“Wow, rude.”

Bucky chuckles at your pout, pressing his lips to your forehead, looking you in the eyes as he repeats. “Y/n is the best”

“Now, here’s the plan Buck you’re going to go and shower whilst Steve cleans up and I’m going to go and get us some food from the takeaway down the street, and then we’re all going to watch movies in bed, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan doll”

Before you went to get the food, you made a quick detour. Getting in home Bucky and Steve were cuddled up together in bed, a film already loaded up on the TV.

“I love you both so much” Bucky mumbled as his eyes started to flutter close.

Two days later Bucky saw Julie sporting a huge black eye and a busted lip. Curtsey of his loving girlfriend.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[sparklefics]

Losing you

Bucky & avenger!reader

WC: 1,185

Summary: a near death experience puts things in perspective.

Warnings: near death experience (not detailed tho), mentions of injury and blood. Language!

I wrote a thing!! It’s been months since I’ve been inspired/ had time to write. Here’s a little angsty fluff.

Gif not mine.

[Masterlist]

Since you joined the team you’ve gotten along with everyone. Missions are successful at least 90 percent of the time.

For the last nine months you’ve been partnering up with Bucky. He’s damn good at his job and you get along just fine, at least when you’re on the field.

Off the field is an entirely different story.

It’s not so much that you don’t get along, it’s just you don’t hang out outside of work. The only time you ‘hang out’ is during training.

You wouldn’t consider him a friend— at least not like Sam is. Bucky is merely your teammate, your partner.

Normally Bucky is cool, calm and collected until the day you get hurt in the field.

“Star, come in.” Bucky speaks through the comms but is only met with silence so he tries again. “Agent Star, come in!”

Star is the code name Sam gave you when you joined his crusade as Captain America. He liked to joke around about his Stars and Stripes and the Sentinel of Liberty, respectively you, Joaquin and Bucky.

Bucky turns back to the last checkpoint and his body goes rigid as he takes in the scene before him. There you are laying on a puddle of blood—yours, he realizes.

He doesn’t take the time to over analyze what went down, all he cares about right now is getting you to safety.

—————

It’s scary to put so much on someone. To let them be your everything, he hadn’t realized that was what had happened. To him you were just his partner.

Until he almost lost you.

That’s when he realized what’s really at stake here. Not only your life, but his happiness.

—————

Three days, that’s how long it takes for you to wake up.

“Ow. That hurt.” You groan and hear Sam chuckle, when you bat your eyes open you see Bucky storming out of the room.

“That’s not funny, Star.” Sam says. “You scared us. How come you didn’t call for backup?”

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. And yes, he was here the whole time, barely got him to eat and shower.”

“Where’s Stripes?” You deflect and ask about Joaquin.

“Coffee run.” Sam stares towards the doorway and sighs. “Buck was the one that found you.”

“Hmm. I think he might be mad at me— you know for almost dying.”

“He’s entitled to that, you’re his partner after all.”

—————

Bucky never comes back to the med bay. In fact you don’t see him for weeks, until you’ve been given the all clear to go back out on the field.

You approach him silently at the gym while he’s pummeling a punching bag. Three bags already discarded after he ripped them open.

“Hey Liberty!”

“Don’t call me that. You know I fucking hate it.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Who said I was?” He turns around and you’re not ready for that tender look he gives you. A mixture of guilt that you almost died on his watch and something else you can’t pinpoint and it almost makes you think that he might actually care.

As scary as it was, almost dying put so much in perspective for you. First thing’s first, before you passed out on the field your very last thought was Bucky’s smile. That was strange…yes, he’s your partner but you were about to die and your last thought was of him not begging for help just one last smile of Bucky’s.

Secondly, it felt so off and hurtful seeing him walk out as soon as you woke up. You didn’t know why it hurt but the fact that it did meant that you wanted him there when you woke up. Or at least you expected him to be there, he is your partner after all.

You almost lost everything.

You almost lost him.

It’s infuriating how he managed to become something more than just your partner without you even realizing it. Though all your anger dissipates with the look he gives you. None of it matters when he’s looking at you and touching you so delicately.

Bucky traces a finger ever so delicately over the still fading bruise on your cheek bone.

You hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close to you. Or why the disheveled look he’s got going on looks so good on him. Has he ever looked better? Yes, but today he looks kinda hot and vulnerable, in a way that you just wanna comfort him, run your hands through his hair, cuddle the shit out of him.

Out of nowhere you grab his face and kiss him— on the lips!

“You can’t blame me for that. I almost died.”

You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise he doesn’t pull back, instead he deepens the kiss.

“Shut up, I'm still mad at you.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Ha!” You pull back just enough to slap a hand on his chest. “I knew it! You are mad at me!”

Bucky pulls you right back to his arms and rests his forehead on yours. “I’m just…I can’t lose anyone else. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. You got hurt out there, I should’ve—”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, “James Buchanan Barnes it is not your fault I got hurt. I should’ve called for backup, it’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”

“Yes it is. You’re my partner.”

“You say that like it means something else. What are you really trying to say, Sarge?”

As if the kiss you two shared hadn’t made it clear this certainly would.

“Star, you are everything to me.”

And your anger makes an appearance again, you pull away from him. “I’m finding that a little hard to believe, cause since I woke up all you’ve done is avoid me.”

“I’m just— seeing you there in a puddle of blood it fucked me up.”

“Waking up and seeing my partner walking out on me fucked me up. You were the last thing on my mind before I passed out. I was trying to call for— I was going to call for you when I blacked out. Then I wake up and see you walk out the door and never come back.”

This isn’t how Bucky pictured this moment. It should’ve gone like in the movies. You both admit your feelings, kiss and voila: happy ending. Not you angry at him, with unshed tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot that can’t handle his own feelings. But I love you. I need you to know that. I love you.” He squeezes your hands.

“That’s the thing Bubba, I love you too. So don’t you dare walk out on me ever again.”

You pull him in for a hug and you climb on him like a koala, arms around his shoulders and legs around his torso. He tells you he loves you again and assures you that he’s not going anywhere without you. “Well then, take me to my room. You owe me three weeks worth of cuddles.”

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | chapter eight

Summary: Flashback to Wakanda.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Major The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Spoilers. Smut. Fluffy Smut. A hint of Angst at the end. Sergeant kink.

Word Count: 927

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A/N: Onto episode 4 now, most likely gonna be 3 parts for this one. I've had the idea of this chapter in my head forever and was so excited to finally write it. But, I am also excited to go back to annoyed Bucky next chapter when John's back in the picture.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos | @honeydew3064 | @scott-loki-barnes

Wakanda. Six Years Ago.

The Wakandan sun had set hours ago, around the same time Bucky left to meet with Ayo for another session. You stood by the window of his hut, staring out into the evening waiting for his return. Ayo had contacted you when they had finished for the night, explaining to you that he was free. Finally free from the brainwashing that had haunted him for so long. You immediately left the room that the Wakandans had prepared for you and made your way to Bucky’s hut. 

As Bucky approached the hut, he saw you waiting for him. He entered without a word, closing the space between you in a few quick strides. He cupped your face, kissing you deeply, passionately. It was filled with a mix of relief, gratitude, a raw desire. 

You responded immediately, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Your bodies pressed together as Bucky's hand dropped from your face, roaming your back. 

Bucky broke the kiss for less than a second, his lips finding your body again as he trailed down your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, as your fingers tangled in his hair. A soft moan escaped your lips as he placed a soft kiss against a sensitive spot below your ear. His hand found its way to the gem of your shift, lifting it effortlessly over your head and tossing it aside before finding your lips with his again. 

Undressing each other in haste, your clothes were discarded carelessly onto the hut floor. His eyes filled with hunger as his gaze met yours for a moment, taking in the image of you standing bare before him. 

His voice was husky as he murmured, “You’re amazing, Baby Girl,” 

You smiled, sliding your hand up and down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles and the scars on his shoulder. “And, you’re finally free, Sergeant,” you replied, your voice breathless with anticipation. 

Without another word, he lifted you and carried you to the makeshift bed. Laying you down, his eyes danced over your body, taking in every inch of you. His lips captured yours in a hungry kiss and he positioned himself above you. You arched into his touch as his hand explored your body, your nails digging into him. 

Your kisses grew more desperate as his fingers found their way to your inner thigh, teasing his way up to your entrance with gentle strokes. The stokes continued as he reached it. You moaned into his mouth, hips moving in rhythm with his touch. 

Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself where his fingers previously were, his gaze stayed locked with yours. And, with a single thrust, he buried himself deep inside you. You gasped at the sensation. 

Once he began to move, his hips rocked against yours in a slow steady rhythm. Your back arched off the bed as the pleasure consumed you. His name fell from your lips, driving him to push harder. 

Each movement was deliberate, every touch ignited the desire and longing for one another that neither of your minds let you admit. His thrusts were measured, driving deeper into your core. A chorus of moans and sighs from both your lips filled the hut. 

The sensation of him filling you caused you to wrap your legs around his waist as a wave of pleasure coursed through you. 

The tension within you grew, the pleasure building, it was almost unbearable. You were teetering on the edge, Bucky’s movement grew more urgent as your mumbled begs strained from your voice. “Please, Sergeant, please.” 

“Please what, baby?” his voice whispered against your ear, his lips finding your neck again. 

“Please can I finish, Sergeant?” you pleaded, your voice thick with need and desperation. 

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your skin, and he continued with his steady, hard thrusts. Each one pushed you closer and closer. He knew exactly what you needed, he could feel the tension within you reaching its breaking point. 

“Let go for me,” he murmured as his grip on your hips tightened. “Let me feel you come apart, baby.” 

His permission pushed you over the edge, and with a ragged cry, you shattered beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure rushed through you as he continued his rhythm. 

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth bored into your skin as his high followed closely behind yours. His body began to tremble with the aftershock of his climax. 

~

Bucky collapsed beside you, and then for a long while, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex and the only sound was your ragged breaths. 

A realization washed over you like a wave crashing. For the first time, he had been gentle and tender. It was filled with emotion and connection. Something that was a stark contrast to the aggressive, rough encounters that would normally leave your body looking like you just came back from an intense mission. 

The weight became too much to bear, you began to gather your clothes from the floor. The simple act of dressing provided you with a sense of normalcy. 

You felt his intense gaze watching you silently.

“I… I think I should go,” you murmured, unable to turn to face him. 

Without a word from him, you slipped out of the hut, leaving behind the warmth and intimacy. Instead, enveloping yourself with cool night air as tears stung at the corners of your eyes. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[lokidokieokie]

Healing Hearts

Summary: your typical enemies to lovers plot, except it’s only one-sided… and Y/n's Bucky's physical therapist/nurse.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Nurse!Reader

Warning(s): brooding Bucky, mentions of physical therapy, other than that nothing else I can think of...

Bucky Barnes had always been a solitary man. He preferred to keep to himself and avoid unnecessary interactions with others. So when he woke up in a hospital room, with a perky nurse named Y/n assigned to him, he knew that he was in for a long and frustrating recovery.

From the moment Y/n walked into his room, she was like a ray of sunshine. She was constantly talking, asking him how he was feeling, and offering him unsolicited advice on how to speed up his recovery. Bucky found her incessant chatter annoying and intrusive, and he made it clear that he wanted her to leave him alone.

"You don't have to talk so much, you know," Bucky grumbled as Y/n tried to engage him in conversation.

She smiled brightly. "I'm just trying to keep you company, Mr. Barnes. I know it can be lonely in here."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I don't need company. I need to heal and get out of this hellhole."

Her smile faltered, and she looked hurt. But Bucky couldn't bring himself to care. He had more important things to worry about than hurting the feelings of a chatty nurse.

As the days went on, Bucky found himself becoming more and more irritated with Y/n. She was always there, hovering over him, and he couldn't escape her constant attention. He started to resent her presence, even though he knew that she was just doing her job.

One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy exercises, she accidentally brushed against his metal arm. Bucky winced, and she immediately pulled back.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Barnes. Did that hurt?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

Bucky gritted his teeth. "Yeah, it hurt. What did you expect, with that clumsy move?"

Y/n looked at him with hurt in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm just trying to help you get better."

Bucky glared at her. "You're not helping. You're just getting in the way."

She sighed. "I know you don't like me very much, Mr. Barnes. But I'm just trying to do my job. I want to make sure you're getting the best possible care."

Bucky scoffed. "Yeah, right. You just want to make yourself feel better. You think that if you can fix me, you'll be some kind of hero."

Y/n looked hurt and shocked by his words. "That's not true, Mr. Barnes. I don't help people to make people think I'm the hero; that I'm some sort of saviour for humanity. All I want to do is help people, that's all."

Bucky shook his head. "Save it for someone who cares. I never needed or wanted your help."

As the days went on, Bucky's attitude towards Y/n didn't improve. But despite his constant complaints and snarky remarks, she never gave up on him. She was always there, by his side, offering him words of encouragement and support.

One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy, Bucky felt a twinge of pain in his leg. He winced, and she immediately stopped what she was doing.

"Are you okay, Mr. Barnes?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

Bucky looked up at her, and for the first time, he saw her in a different light. He saw the kindness in her eyes, the determination in her voice, and the genuine care in her actions. He realised that he had been wrong about her all along. She wasn't annoying, she was kind and caring.

Bucky felt a strange feeling in his chest as he looked at her. He couldn't believe that he had been so blind to her kindness before. She had been nothing but patient and supportive towards him, even when he had been rude and ungrateful.

"I'm fine," he muttered, feeling embarrassed by his outburst. "Sorry for snapping at you."

She smiled warmly at him. "It's okay, Mr. Barnes. I understand that you're in pain, and it can be frustrating."

Bucky nodded, feeling grateful for her understanding. "I guess I've just been a bit of a jerk to you, haven't I?"

She shrugged. "It's okay. I know that you didn't mean it."

Bucky sighed, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. "Thanks for being patient with me, Y/n. I really appreciate it."

Y/n grinned at him. "Of course, Mr. Barnes. That's what I'm here for."

From that day on, Bucky's attitude towards her began to change. He found himself looking forward to her visits, and he even started to engage in conversations with her. They talked about everything from the latest movies to popular music trends, and Bucky found himself enjoying her company more and more.

One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy, Bucky realised that he didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay with him, to keep talking to him, to keep being there for him.

"Y/n," he said suddenly, as she was packing up her supplies. "Do you want to grab a coffee or something after your shift ends?"

She looked surprised, but she smiled. "Sure, Mr. Barnes. I'd love that."

"Call me Bucky, doll."

Bucky grinned, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. He couldn't believe that he was actually looking forward to spending time with the woman he had once despised. But as he looked at her, he realised that she was more than just a nurse to him. She was a friend, a confidante, and maybe even something more.

As they walked out of the hospital together, Bucky felt a strange feeling of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he had finally found someone who could help him heal his damaged heart.

A/N who doesn't love the enemies to lovers trope? It's personally a favourite of mine 🥰

tagging the usual...please lemme know if you'd like to be added or removed.

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee 

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 17 ~ Breakfast In Bed

How Spin the Bottle leads to breakfast in bed and confessed feelings.

“Do you guys want to play spin the bottle?” Tony asks wearing a mischievous grin. You all look at each other before looking at Tony again. “Seriously Mr Stark are we in high school.” You tease the man with a grin knowing he loves these sort of games. “I don’t see why we can’t.” Bucky says with a small smile as he shrugs his shoulders in the mood for some high school games.

All you can do is sigh because you would love the opportunity to kiss him, but what if he doesn’t feel the same. What if your brother says anything because it is his best friend? The thought of your brother not liking you together has been eating you up from inside for a while. But you know what, you are not going to screw up your only chance of kissing the man you had a crush on.

Now this caused Tony to smirk because he knows now you are going to give in, it was his plan after all to get you and Bucky to confess your feelings towards each other. “Alright let’s do this.” You say and James smiles at you with a shy grin. You take your place on the couch that formed a circle full of friends when the party started to die down a bit. Tony places a beer bottle in the middle of the group causing them all to groan but they gave in nonetheless because they know Tony will not give up. “Okay guys.” Tony claps his hands together. “Who wants to go first?" he grins at his colleagues and friends.

“Since Bucky agreed first why doesn’t he go first.” Steve grins as he is in on Tony’s plan. He really wants his best friend and sister to finally get together after years of pining. As Steve looks at James he smiles and nods towards the bottle. “Okay guys how this is going to work is if the bottle lands on you, you are going to go into that closet and do whatever you want for seven minutes.” Tony explains. “Everything is on the table” he smirked looking around the room.

Bucky sighs and moves forward to spin the brown bottle and your breath stops as the bottle starts slowing till it stops completely in front of you. “Y/N.” Natasha call you out of your daze. “Huh?” you look at the ginger and you catch the grin she sends to Steve. “Cool, cool. Ok Tin Man and Ms America it’s your turn.” Tony smirks as you and Bucky blush. Getting on your knees to stand up he follows you towards the closet. And your teams cheers all around you.

“Okay love birds when this door closes do whatever you want. You have seven minutes.” Tony said closing the door behind you and Bucky. “I’m so glad I get to do this with you.” James smiles at you “I’ve been waiting forever to kiss you so if you don’t feel the same please stop me now otherwise I will not be able to help myself.” You blush at the look on his face. “Please kiss me.” You pleaded and he pulls you into a kiss.

‘This day couldn’t possibly get any more perfect.’ you think and before you could think further he pulls away from the kiss. You smile at him and he chuckles. “Please kiss me again.” You whispered against his lips and he happily obliged. He leans forward closing the gap between your faces as he presses his lips, softly, against yours. You really love the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you guys sink towards the floor he places his hands on your hips to pull you onto his lap. You lift your hands to his cheeks rubbing softly as he moves your lips together. He bites your bottom lip as pulls away again to take a breather keeping his forehead against yours. He smiles at you in a shaky voice you begin talking. “That was better than I ever could have imagined it." He nodded pulling you in for a slow kiss before his tongue could enter your mouth the door opens.

“Times up love birds.” You hear your brother laugh as Bucky groans as he pulls away from you. “Guys.” Steve starts with a big grin. “If you wanna date go ahead. I would be happy if you guys are happy.” He smirks. “But just know if you hurt my little sister I will do nothing because she can look after herself.” He finishes as he see the look on your face knowing you are going to say something to him about looking after yourself.

“Okay guys if you will excuse us we are going to bed.” You say with a grin and the group cheered. “Finally.” They cheered again. As you blushed pulling him towards your room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Tony called after you guys and you giggle before answering. “That is not a whole lot Tones.” He grins before yelling exactly as you and James leave the living room.

When Bucky’s eyes opened the morning he knows he is not getting back to sleep. It was only 7 in the morning so he decided to make breakfast for his newly made girlfriend. The only issue is you look so cute cuddled into him he can’t get up just yet. It took about five minutes to get out but you wouldn’t let him go. So after he got everything made he went upstairs to wake you up.

“Good morning beautiful.” Bucky greeted with a small smile. “I brought you breakfast.” He said pointing at the tray of food on you bedside table. “Good morning handsome.” You greeted with a tired smile stretching as you sit up. “So last night wasn’t a very good dream.” He smiled at you. “No sweetheart.” He said pulling you into a side hug. “Good because I would be very upset if it was.” “Now what did you say about breakfast.” You giggle when you smell French toast, as he pulls you into a good morning kiss you could not help but sigh in content. “I just wanted to say. I really do love you Y/N. I have since we were teens even though it has been a while I really am glad I get to call you my girlfriend.” He said smiling down at you. “I love you too Buck.” You smile up at the man you have loved since you were teens. “I am also really glad I get to call you my boyfriend.”

Day 16 | Masterlist | Day 18

[geeky-politics-46]

Sneak peeks for Sacrifices - Part 4! I couldn't decide on just one, so you are getting like 4, lol:

- Vincent literally follows his dad around now as he performs his sorcerer's duties.

- Sexy time with Stephen in his favorite position as discussed in part 3 😉

- Bucky will be having a bigger part in the next couple parts.

- Bucky has developed a tendency of interrupting your naughty time with Stephen more often then your actual 5 year old. Stephen hates it.

[urdepressedslut]

I don't know if you usually take requests, but could you please write a drabble about Bucky taking care of the reader during her period? Period cramps are killing me and I just want some cuddles 🥺

aw i love this 🥹 i’m sorry your cramps have been bad, i’m sending you all the love and hugs your way💗 i hope this bucky fluff makes you feel better 🥰

Cuddles

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky helps comfort you when you are having bad period cramps.

♡ Warnings: SUPER FLUFFY, light angst, period cramps, blood (duhhh), light self hate

main masterlist

* i know this is mickey, but let’s pretend it’s post tfatws!bucky *

You had showered after a long day, doing your usual routine— taking your time to really treat yourself after a tough week.

Immediately after sinking into bed, the sheets feeling so good against your freshly shaven legs— it took no time at all for you to slip into a much needed slumber. You didn’t know you could sleep so soundly, so well. Most nights consisted of rolling and waking up occasionally in sweats. Tonight was the first, as you slept through the entire night, waking only the next morning.

You were excited to start off your Saturday after a good nights rest, except when you went to get up— you noticed you were still exhausted. It was then you could feel your back ache, all your limbs heavier than usual. You furrowed your brows in confusion, thinking perhaps you had gotten too much sleep. But as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, you suddenly felt something wet in between your thighs.

Glancing down, ripping the cover off— everything dawned on you at the sight of red smearing the inside of your thighs, your underwear ruined.

Fucking periods.

You knew getting that good of sleep was too good to be true. You could feel the tears working their way up, your nose burning with frustration. You had just cleaned and changed all your sheets, taken a shower. Now everything, including you were dirty again— like you had never done any of the cleaning to begin with.

You knew it was just your emotions running wild, so you willed your tears to stay away. Sucking in a deep breath, you walked to the bathroom sluggishly. You made it your mission to grab a pill before the cramps started— you had learned your lesson. Although you were starting your period, you were not going to let this ruin your weekend. You were going to have a nice relaxing weekend. Not letting the beauties of being a woman ruin your day.

If only you had kept that attitude up for the entire day. The cramps had come as you expected, but this time the pill did nothing to relieve the pain. The heating pad worked only for a few minutes before the pain came crashing in waves, your body attempting to curl in on itself from the discomfort.

You swore a ghost was digging a knife in your uterus, and right now— you’d appreciate if the ghost just ripped out your uterus completely.

You had holed yourself up in your room, only making it downstairs for breakfast before you were running back to your bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach back out. This was definitely one of the worst periods you’d had in awhile, and you just wanted to slip into a coma until it was over.

Knocking sounded from your door, and you rolled over still clutching your stomach. You looked a mess, you felt like a disaster. Periods always made you feel gross.

“Yeah?” You asked out loud, and you couldn’t hide the discomfort from your tone.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” Bucky asked through the door.

Your eyes widened at his voice, wondering what he was doing here.

You and Bucky had been dating for awhile now, and things had been great. You still managed to get flustered by practically anything he did— and he loved every second of your flustered state. There was one thing that was brought up though— and that was periods.

“Uh— yeah I’m fine! Just tired!” You shouted, nervous that he could sense your lie. He definitely could.

It’s not that you thought he’d judge you for being a woman and having a period. But you were shy to show him that vulnerable side of you. Both you and him had shown the soft sides of each other— clinging to each other when you needed each others comfort. But there was something extra vulnerable about this— and you couldn’t ignore the embarrassment you felt when you even thought of it. You didn’t want him to find you gross, or annoying as you whined.

Okay… I guess you were a little nervous that he’d judge you.

“Doll what’s going on? Can I come in?” He asked, his voice growing more concerned.

You pulled the cover over your legs, giving the room one last once over— it didn’t look terrible. You just wished you could have a minute or two to tidy up. You knew Bucky very well though, and he’d break the door down if you waited one more second.

“Of course, come in!” You announced finally, taking a deep breath, hoping a cramp didn’t hit you while he visited.

The door opened and Bucky peeled his head in first, after making eye contact with you— he sent a warm smile before heading all the way in, shitting the door behind him. He quickly made his way to the bed where he plopped down, looking over you concerned.

“Baby what’s going on? I feel like I haven’t seen you much today. You sure you’re just tired? You aren’t getting sick are you?” He rambled on, and your heart swelled at his concern.

“Buck— I’m fine really. Just didn’t sleep too good last night.” You completely lied, last night was the best sleep you had ever had. Too bad it leaked into today though.

He furrowed his brows and looked at you like he was about to figure you out— see right through you and pick out the lies. You wouldn’t be surprised if the serum gave him those abilities.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asked softly, scooting closer so he could slip his hand underneath the covers to land on your bare thigh.

It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but you feared you’d get blood on him. You knew that was a silly thought— but you were paranoid.

He noticed you tense up from his touch and immediately he removed his hand, his face growing more concerned.

“Baby, what is it?” He pried, trying to look you over again— needing to know what the cause of your discomfort was.

You sighed and gave in, shoulders sagging in defeat. You didn’t want him to worry, and seeing his frantic eyes search you for a wound— you realized you were making this bigger than it needed to be. You just couldn’t ignore the embarrassment you felt.

“It’s just uh… I’m… I’m on my period Buck.” You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the bed.

His concerned expression melted away, his heart falling back into a regular rhythm. He knew he was prehistoric— but he knew what a period was. He just didn’t know why you wanted to hide it from him.

“Oh.” He finally said, “Doll— you can tell me things like that.”

“I know Buck but… it’s embarrassing and gross. I can usually deal with it and nobody ever notices— you know because it’s a normal thing.” You told him, playing with the edge of the comforter. “This one has just been pretty bad and… I just— I don’t know.”

You trailed off, avoiding his gaze. Bucky reached his hand over and tucked some stray hairs behind your ear. Tracing his fingers down your jaw to raise your chin up— that way he could look into your eyes.

“You’re not gross, okay? I’m sorry you’re in pain baby— I wish I could take it all away. It’s not fair you have to deal with this all the time.” He told you gently, and you leaned into his touch.

“It’s not usually this bad but… I don’t know, I guess it’s just a bad one this time around.” You assumed.

Before you could say anything else, you doubled over as the pain came back— stabbing into your uterus. You clutched your lower abdomen— hoping it would help relieve the pain. Bucky’s eyes widened at your whine.

“What can I do to help?” He rushed out, hands hovering over you.

If it were any other time, you’d find his protective, mama bear mode adorable. But for now— you were too busy being in pain.

“Just stay with me please? I don’t wanna lay here alone.” You admitted, your words coming out in whimpers.

Bucky wasted no time in kicking his shoes off, shimming his jacket off before he crawled back into the bed, sneaking under the covers. He leaned back against the headboard, pulling you on top of him.

“Don’t even have to ask doll, I’m staying right here. You comfortable?” He asked.

You reached down and raised your shirt just above your belly button, before you lifted his shirt the same. He furrowed his brows, wondering what you were doing. You laid down completely again, letting your skin smush against his, and because he was a super soldier and was always hot— his warm stomach felt amazing against your lower abdomen. Like a personal heating pad.

“Ahh… that feels good. You’re so warm.” You sighed, ticking your face into the crook of his neck.

He chuckled and smiled into your hair, wrapping his arms protectively around you.

“I love you baby.” He whispered to you, already feeling your breathing even out— falling asleep on him.

Your uterus calmed for now, the warm sensation soothing your pain. You could only wait until the next wave of pain came— but you knew you’d be okay with Bucky holding you.

“Love you too Buck.” You mumbled sleepily against his neck, your breath warming his skin.

He hated that you were in pain, wishing that he could take it all away— but he’d give you as many Bucky cuddles as you needed until you were sick of him.

Truthfully, you’d never get sick of Bucky cuddles.

A/N: short but sweet 🥰

[the-winter-spider]

The Alchemy | Part One

NFL Bucky x reader au

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, fluff,

A/N: I only have one more chapter of Invisible to post so ima get this new series out there. I plan to alternate with this one and Say Don Go! Also im Canadian, ive never watched football in my life before Taylor Swift & Travis Kelce so bare with me, Im a hockey girl 😇🤣

ALSO WOW another ts inspired fic what are the odds lmaoooo

------

The stadium buzzed with energy, every seat packed with fans decked out in the team’s deep blue and silver. Flags waved, chants echoed, and the floodlights bathed the field in an electric glow. The scoreboard flashed 20-24. Fourth quarter. Six seconds left on the clock.

Bucky Barnes stood on the field, his cleats dug into the turf as his breath came in steady bursts. His number 17 jersey clung to him, streaked with sweat and dirt, but his focus was absolute. Across from him, defenders crouched low, their eyes locked on him. Everyone in the stadium knew where the ball was going. The golden boy, the clutch player, the one who could pull miracles out of thin air.

At the line of scrimmage, Steve Rogers—number 18, the quarterback—barked out commands, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “Green 18! Green 18! Set!” His hand hovered under center, waiting for the snap.

Next to Steve, Sam Wilson—number 78, the running back—grinned as he looked to his left. “Hope you’re ready to make me look good, Barnes,” Sam called to Bucky, his voice tinged with a mix of adrenaline and humor.

Bucky smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “Always am, Wilson. Try to keep up.”

The ball snapped.

Time slowed, the roar of the stadium dimming to a dull hum in Bucky’s ears. He exploded off the line of scrimmage, his legs pumping as he darted past the first defender. His route was a perfectly calculated arc, his sharp cut leaving his opponent scrambling in his wake.

Steve dropped back, his eyes scanning the field, calm and composed as chaos erupted around him. The offensive line was holding—barely. Sam sprinted out to the right, dragging a defender with him and creating just enough space for Bucky to hit his mark.

“Buck!” Steve’s shout was clear, even over the thunder of the crowd. The ball left his hands in a perfect spiral, arcing high into the night.

Bucky didn’t slow. He kept his eyes on the ball as it sailed through the air, his body moving on instinct. A defender lunged at him, but he sidestepped, his cleats digging into the turf and propelling him forward. Another defender was closing in, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Bucky leaped, his arms stretching to meet it. For a split second, the stadium seemed to hold its breath. His fingertips brushed the leather, and then the ball was in his hands, secured against his chest as he crashed to the ground in the end zone.

The buzzer sounded.

The crowd erupted into a deafening roar, the stands a blur of jumping fans and waving flags. Bucky pushed himself to his feet, the ball still clutched tightly in his hands. His teammates swarmed him, slapping his back and tugging at his jersey.

“Hell of a catch, Buck!” Steve shouted, pulling Bucky into a quick hug, his grin as wide as the field.

“Couldn’t have done it without that throw,” Bucky replied, though his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sam jogged over, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Man, you’re gonna make the rest of us look bad if you keep pulling off plays like that.”

“Just doing my job,” Bucky quipped, though his voice carried a hint of weariness.

The cameras swarmed, capturing every second of the celebration. Bucky turned, tossing the ball to an equipment manager as he ran a hand through his damp hair. He offered a practiced smile to the crowd, raising his hand in a quick wave. The adrenaline still pounded through his veins, but underneath it all, he felt…empty. Moments like this used to mean everything. Now, they were just another show.

----

You stood just behind the sidelines, your camera in hand as you captured the final seconds of the game. The stadium’s energy was almost overwhelming, but you kept your focus, snapping shot after shot as the ball spiraled through the air. The lens followed Bucky, capturing the moment his fingertips grazed the ball and the exact second he pulled it to his chest.

Your thumb hovered over the record button as he hit the ground in the end zone, the buzzer blaring through the stadium. The noise was deafening, but you barely noticed, too focused on capturing the raw emotion of the moment—his teammates rushing to him, the grin splitting Steve’s face, Sam throwing his hands in the air as he jogged over.

Through the lens, you could see every detail: the streaks of dirt on Bucky’s jersey, the intensity in his eyes, the way he stood a little apart from the celebration even as he was surrounded by his team. You lowered the camera for a moment, watching as he turned to wave at the crowd, that effortless smile on his face.

There was something surreal about seeing him like this, so different yet so familiar, especially after all these years. The golden boy of the NFL, the star of every highlight reel, and yet…still Bucky. You just wondered what he would think if he knew you were tasked with covering his team for the duration of the season.

-----

The press room buzzed with energy as reporters jostled for position, shoving microphones and cameras toward the front. Bucky sat at the table, effortlessly commanding the room. His jersey clung to him, still damp with sweat, and his dark hair fell messily across his forehead. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his easy smile lighting up the space.

“Bucky, talk us through that final play!” one reporter called out.

Bucky smirked, shaking his head. “It’s not just me. That was all teamwork. The guys up front gave me the space, and Stevie threw a perfect pass, I just had to do my part.”

“Just your part?” another reporter pressed. “That was your second game-winning catch this season and it just started! You’re making it look easy out there.”

“Well,” Bucky replied, flashing a quick grin, “it’s never easy, i’ve just got a great team behind me. We work hard for moments like that.”

More questions came, volleying back and forth. He answered them all with polished charm, his practiced media persona never faltering. But as the questions wore on, his gaze started to wander, skimming over the sea of faces and microphones. That’s when he saw you, his blue eyes did a double take before confusion and shock swam through them.

You were standing off to the side, not pushing to the front like the others. You weren’t yelling over the noise or angling for the best shot. You were just…there. Scribbling something into your notebook, head ducked slightly as if you wanted to disappear into the crowd.

Bucky froze for a fraction of a second, the polished grin faltering for the briefest moment before he caught himself. His heart stuttered in his chest, a wave of recognition crashing over him. He blinked, his brain scrambling to catch up. No way. It couldn’t be.

You were trying to stay out of the fray while still capturing the scene. Your notebook was a familiar weight in your hands, its pages filling with shorthand notes that you’d polish later. It was your way of staying grounded—your way of not staring too long at him.

The boy you’d grown up with. The boy who used to challenge you to races down your block, who teased you mercilessly, who knew all your secrets. Seeing him now, years later, as the NFL’s star receiver, felt surreal. He’d become everything the world expected him to be. And yet, in some strange way, he was still the same.

You ducked your head lower, scribbling furiously to avoid the wave of memories threatening to crash over you. Focus. Professional. Objective. That was your mantra when you’d taken this assignment. You hadn’t even known it would be his team until you arrived. Now, all you wanted was to finish your notes and leave to compose yourself fully before he could notice you.

Bucky’s gaze lingered on you, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the game he’d just played. He said your name softly, testing it on his lips. It felt foreign and familiar all at once. You didn’t react—too far away, too focused on your notes.

“Hey, Bucky!” another reporter called out. “What’s your mindset going into the rest of the season?”

He barely heard the question. His focus was entirely on you now, watching as you slipped your notebook into your bag and adjusted the strap over your shoulder. You were leaving.

“Uh, sorry,” he mumbled to the reporter, not bothering to look at them. “I need to…” He trailed off, standing abruptly.

The room went silent for a moment, the reporters exchanging confused glances. “Bucky, are you—?”

“Yeah, uh, excuse me,” he muttered, already moving. He left the table, ignoring the murmurs that followed as the cameras swung to track his movements.

His heart stuttered.

“Y/N?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din. He blinked, half-convinced his mind was playing tricks on him. He tried again, louder this time. “Y/N?”

You didn’t look up.

----

The late summer air clung to your skin, thick and still, like it was trying to hold you in this moment forever. The roof beneath you was rough and familiar, each crack in the shingles a memory. Nights like this always felt infinite—just you and Bucky under the stars, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight, that comforting rhythm was broken.

You sat side by side, the glow of the streetlights catching in Bucky’s messy hair. He leaned back on his elbows, that cocky grin you knew so well plastered across his face. “So,” he said, breaking the silence, “you wanna go to prom with me next year? You know, as friends or whatever.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, but it sounded hollow even to you. “Prom’s not for another year, Bucky. Don’t tell me you’re turning into a planner now.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged, the grin widening, his confidence practically radiating. “I like to lock down the good ones early.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a light shove, but your hand lingered on his arm for just a second longer than it should have. He felt it. He always felt it.

“Alright,” he said, his grin fading as he sat up straighter, his piercing blue eyes narrowing in concern. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird all night.”

Your fingers twisted together in your lap, your gaze dropping to the shingles. The words felt too heavy to say, but they burned in your chest. You couldn’t keep them in any longer.

“I’m moving.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. It stretched between you like the whole world had opened up, and all you could do was stare into the void. When you finally looked at him, his expression was blank, unreadable. That cocky smile you’d always known so well—it was just gone.

“You’re lying,” he said, his voice low, almost like a challenge.

You shook your head, your throat tightening. “I wish I was.”

His brows furrowed, the disbelief quickly turning into something sharper. “Why?” he asked, leaning closer. “You don’t have to go. You’re almost eighteen—just stay.”

“Bucky—”

“No, listen to me,” he cut you off, his words coming fast now, his tone filled with something you rarely heard from him: fear. “You could stay here. My ma wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d love it. You could move into the basement. You practically live at my house anyway. No one would even notice. You don’t have to go.”

The desperation in his voice broke something in you. You had known it would hurt, but seeing him like this—Bucky, who was always so strong, so steady—was unbearable.

“I can’t stay,” you said softly, the words barely more than a whisper. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Why not?” His voice cracked as he sat up fully, his hands curling into fists against the roof. “Am I not enough for you to stay?” He knew he was being selfish but he was so blind sided he couldn't help it.

The question hit you like a punch to the chest. Your breath caught, and you had to blink hard to keep your vision from blurring. “Fuck, Bucky,” you whispered. “Of course, you’re enough. You’re my best friend. You’re everything. But my mom…” Your voice broke, and you had to take a deep breath before continuing. “She’s finally leaving him. Bucky, we’re finally getting out.”

His jaw clenched, and his chest rose and fell unevenly as he processed your words. His hands gripped the edge of the roof like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. “Your mom…” he started, his voice trailing off. Of course, he was happy for her. He knew what it had taken for her to finally leave that asshole. He’d seen the bruises you never talked about, the way your voice would falter when you mentioned home. Of course, he understood.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less. She was taking you away from him, and he couldn’t stand it. "What about school? We have one more year left."

"They have schools everywhere Buck..." Your voice was soft and quiet.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The night stretched on, heavy and endless. You thought he might fight you on it again, throw out another plan, another reason for you to stay. But instead, he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Well,” he said, his voice sharp and hollow, “I guess this is it then.”

“Bucky, don’t do this,” you pleaded, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “Please.”

He stood up slowly, brushing off his hands like he was trying to shake off the weight of your words. His expression was unreadable now, his eyes cold and distant in a way you’d never seen before.

“It was nice while it lasted,” he said, his voice clipped and emotionless. He paused at the edge of the roof, looking back at you one last time. “Hey, take care of yourself, alright?”

And then he climbed down the ladder, disappearing into the shadows below.

You didn’t call after him—you couldn’t. You just sat there on the roof, staring at the place where he’d been, your heart breaking under the weight of his absence. For the first time, the stars felt impossibly far away.

That was the last time you ever talked to Bucky Barnes.

----

You were halfway down the hallway, your footsteps echoing softly in the empty space, when you heard him.

“Y/N!”

You froze, halfway down the hallway. The voice was unmistakable now—stronger, sharper, but undeniably his. Slowly, you turned, and there he was, jogging toward you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. His broad shoulders filled the space, but it was his eyes—wide and almost boyish—that sent your heart racing.

“Is this really you?” he asked, stopping just a few feet away. His chest rose and fell as if he’d just run the length of the field. His gaze swept over you, disbelief and something like relief flickering across his face.

You laughed nervously, a sound that came out more like a breathless exhale. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”

Bucky’s lips parted in a huff of incredulous laughter. “Are you kidding? I could find you in any room.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Before you could respond, he closed the distance, wrapping you in a hug so tight it stole the breath from your lungs. For a moment, the world fell away—the noise, the cameras, the years. It was just Bucky, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear. It was like you were kids again, sitting on rooftops and talking about everything under the stars. Holding you in a way where you finally felt safe like nothing or no one could hurt you because you knew these arm’s wouldn’t.

“Holy shit,” he muttered into your hair. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your shoulders. “I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you—I’m just…wow.”

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m here to cover the team for the season.” You held up your press badge, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips. “Didn’t realize I’d be covering you.”

Bucky barked a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fate, huh? Guess it wasn’t done with us yet.”

You both stood there for a moment, the hallway around you seeming to blur. His thumb brushed against your arm absently, like he was reassuring himself you were real. Finally, he stepped back, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ve got about a thousand questions,” he said, tilting his head. “But I guess we’ve got the whole season to catch up, right?”

“Right,” you replied, the warmth in his eyes making it impossible to think straight. “The whole season.”

[m4rv3l-girl]

Man Up, Barnes

Bucky x Y/N

Post TFATWS, Bucky is settling into a ‘normal’ life. Will one coffee change everything?

Warnings: None, just fluff!

The bell above the door had chimed softly when Bucky Barnes stepped into the small café, the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon brought a sense of comfort. He didn’t have a particular reason for coming here - just another quiet spot he’d stumbled upon while attempting to navigate his life post-Flag Smashers and post-therapy, post-everything. Sam had been hounding him about getting out more and talking to people.

He figured this was a pretty good start.

His eyes swept across the café, taking in the happy glow of hanging Edison bulbs, honey-colored shelves lined with mugs and the occasional patron tucked away into the corner, lost in their own world. It was cozy.

Safe.

And then he saw her.

Sitting near the window, curled up with a book, was a woman who looked like she belonged here. The crisp autumn outside accentuating her warmth - engulfed in a thick knit sweater, legs tucked under the chair. Her fingers were delicately holding open a well-loved copy of The Hobbit. Her hair fell softly around her face, her nose scrunched slightly in concentration, completely taken by Tolkien’s pages.

Bucky didn’t realize that he was staring until the waiter approached her table and placed a steaming mug of hot chocolate down in front of her.

“And this,” the waiter added, sliding a small folded napkin next to the drink, “is from me.”

The woman blinked up at him, clearly startled out of her reading, before looking down at the napkin. Even from where Bucky sat, he could see her cheeks go a brilliant shade of red. She stammered something, probably a thanks, and the waiter gave her a smirk before walking off.

Bucky found himself chuckling under his breath. The shy reaction, the sheer awkwardness of it, was endearing. There was something about how flustered she got that made him want to go over and tell her it was okay, that guys like that were a dime a dozen.

Except…he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who just walked up to strangers and struck up a conversation.

But then again he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore.

He was Bucky Barnes and Bucky Barnes was trying to be a better human being.

‘Man up, Barnes.’

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face before he stood up and walked over. His boots were silent against the hardwood floor as he crossed the café and before he could change his mind, he plonked down into the seat across from her.

“Hey,” he said, resting his metal arm on the table as casually as could muster.

She jumped a little and her eyes went wide as she took him in - first his face, then his unmistakable vibranium arm. He waited for the flicker of recognition, the usual shift in demeanor that people had when they realized who he was. But it never came. Instead, she blinked and tilted her head slightly, her lips parting as if she were going to say something and then thinking better of it.

Finally, she settled on “Uh…hi?”

Bucky smirked. “I saw what happened. The waiter. You looked like you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.”

A small, embarrassed laugh escaped her. “Oh god, was it that obvious?”

“Painfully.”

She groaned and buried her face in her hands for a second before peeking at him through her fingers. “He caught me off guard, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting-” She gestured flustered, toward the napkin. “That.”

Bucky leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Not used to guys hitting on you?”

She scoffed. “Not in such a direct, ‘here’s my number, call me maybe’ kind of way.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, well…at least he’s got confidence.”

“Mm.” She nudged the napkin away with one finger, shaking her head. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but I just wanted to enjoy my book in peace, y’know?”

His eyes flicked to the worn pages of The Hobbit and something in his chest softened. “Good choice.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You’ve read it?”

He grinned. “Doll, I read it when it first came out.”

For a second, she just stared at him before realization dawned on her. “Oh…Oh.”

There it was. The recognition.

But instead of recoiling or looking at him with wary eyes as he was expecting, she just laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “You mean to tell me you were around when Tolkien was still writing?”

Bucky chuckled. “Not personally, but yeah. 1937. I remember picking up a copy from a little bookstore in Brooklyn.”

“Okay, that’s actually really cool.” She leaned forward slightly, the initial shyness from the waiter long forgotten. “So, what’s it like? Being a man out of time and all?”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “You want the short version or the long one?”

“Whichever one involves less existential crisis.”

He barked out an airy laugh, the sound surprising even himself a bit. “Alright, well… it’s weird. A lot of things don’t make sense. People talk too fast, coffee’s too expensive, and apparently pumpkin spice is a personality trait now.”

She giggled “Guilty as charged.”

He smirked. “Figured.”

She let her fingertip circle over the smooth rim of her mug before asking, “So what made you come over here? I mean, its not that I mind or anything, but I have a feeling you don’t make a habit of sitting down with strangers.”

“You looked… safe.”

She blinked, it was a rather odd statement. She assumed it was a compliment.. “Safe?”

Bucky nodded, exhaling through his nose. “Like home, kind of. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you weren’t staring at your phone like the rest of the world. Just you, your book, and a hot chocolate.”

Her lips parted, and for a second she looked down at her book as if contemplating things. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Bucky glanced away, a little sheepish. “Just telling the truth.”

Smiling, she took a sip of her drink. “Well, since we’re being honest… I think you’re a lot more charming than you give yourself credit for.”

That caught him off guard. He tilted his head at her, searching her face for a hint of dry sarcasm. There was none, just a welcome warmth.

Something in his chest relaxed. “I… don’t hear that much.”

“Well, you should because it’s true.”

They talked for what felt like a minute and a day at the same time. About books, movies, the absurdity of modern slang (her having to explain what “it’s giving” meant), and the strange comfort of his new life routine. He found himself lessening up and his shoulders lost their usual tension. She simply sipped her hot chocolate and listened to him like he was just a normal guy.

Eventually, the café began to empty out, and she glanced at the time on her phone, sighing. “I should probably head home before I get too comfortable and decide to stay here forever.”

Bucky hesitated before finally saying, “I could walk you home.”

She blinked at him, surprised, but then smiled. “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But I want to.”

For a moment, she just studied him, as if trying to decide something. Then, with a warm, shy smile, she nodded. “Okay. That sounds nice.”

And as they stepped out into the crisp autumn air, Bucky realized that, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just existing.

He was living.

——————————————————————————————————

Just a little peek into my imagination here! 🫶✨

[jadedvibes]

um. how did this have all the thoughts in my heart. like i knew what you were leading towards because this so accurately reflected my feelings about romance too. you took our convo and made it something so beautiful, lyn! 😭🖤 this is perfect and so comforting and literally the epitome of rom-communism. things may appear bleak, dates may be bad, we may start to doubt ourselves; but that's just us going through the dark forest. fairy tales do not start, nor do they end in the dark forest ❤️🥹👏🏼

at the end of the day

summary: after another failed date, you run into bucky barnes on the way home and the two of you get caught in the rain

warnings: fluff, dancing in the rain, talks about love, romcom vibes i hope, pining bucky

wc: 1.7k

a/n: inspired by the talk @jadedvibes and i had a while ago heheh. men suck sometimes but we gotta put our trust in rom-communism and that everything will work out at the end :)

How many horrible dates will you go on to realize that you're never going to have your happy ending? 

The thought plagued you as you walked down the street. You were going to give up on love completely this time, you promised yourself.

You were deep in thought when a soft voice interrupted your pitiful reverie. 

“Oh?” you said, eyes widening in surprise. “Bucky, what are you doing here?”

A light chuckle filled the air between the two of you before he spoke. “I live in this neighbourhood, doll.” 

You mentally smacked yourself on the forehead. “Oh, right. I forgot.” 

His mouth curved into an amused grin before he took a good look at you. “What are you doing here?” he asked, but he had a feeling he already knew the answer. 

You looked down at your outfit, one so different from the usual attire you have on at the Tower. “Isn’t it kinda obvious?” you teased, though your voice’s laced with defeat. “I was on a date.” 

He hummed, “And how’d it go?” 

“Let’s just say there isn’t going to be a second one,” you answered, finishing off with a sigh.

Bucky winced. “M’sorry it didn’t go well.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you said, “It… it happens a lot, I’m used to it.” 

His brow creased in confusion. “Used to what?”

Did you really have to lay out your shitty love life in front of Bucky Barnes? 

You twiddled your thumb nervously. “Going on bad dates,” you stated, “Never finding anything meaningful from them. Always going home with the feeling of disappointment. You know, the usual.” 

Bucky frowned. He never realized you had problems with the whole… dating thing. At least you didn’t look like it whenever he saw you around the Tower. You were a joy to be around—always surrounded by people. How could you possibly have problems with dating? Half the department was already in love with you. (Not that Bucky was keeping records on names or anything. Maybe a little.) If you had problems with love, then what about someone like him? 

Now that you voiced your problem out loud, you felt a bit better. It’s not that you couldn’t find someone—there’s plenty of someones out there—but none of them made you feel special or seen. That spark you were always looking for seemed to be nonexistent.

Maybe the problem was that you were too picky, your standard was too high—too unrealistic.

Or maybe you were the thing you feared the most.

“Sometimes, I feel like there’s something wrong with me,” you confessed. “No, there must be something wrong with me. Maybe the stuff you see in movies does happen, just not to me because no one wants to put in that effort with me. Maybe, I’m unlovable.”

You never thought you would be confessing all this to him. 

Bucky took a minute to digest your words before speaking again. “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Looking into his eyes, you wondered if he truly meant it, or if he’s just being kind like he always was. And as if he could read your mind, “I mean it,” he added, reassuring you. 

“Then why…” 

“These people you go on dates with,” he jumped in, “They don’t even realize how lucky they are. You’re amazing,” he said, a gentle smile spreading across his face, “And if they don’t see that or don’t make you feel like you’re on top of the world, then I guess they weren’t that great to begin with. They don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.” 

You were speechless. Bucky and you weren’t strangers but calling him a friend seemed a bit too… intimate. You don’t even have his number for Christ’s sake. The two of you were just two people who worked in the same building and saw each other frequently and talked here and there. But why did his words mean more to you than any pep-talk your friends gave you? 

“I-l—” you stuttered, “I don’t know what to say. I’m honoured that you think so highly of me.”

If you only knew what Bucky thought of you. He doesn’t really know when it happened, this growing feeling inside of him, but seeing you had become his favourite part of the job. He always tried to spark up small talk (much to everyone’s surprise) but the both of you were busy, always getting whisked away mid-conversation.

Today was the first time he saw you outside of work, in his neighbourhood nonetheless. Perhaps this was his chance—finally some alone time with you. He felt like there were a million things to say, but of course, it came out wrong, as it always does. “I always think about you.” When you raised an eyebrow at him, he corrected himself, “I-I mean I always think highly of you,” he corrected, a tinge of pink evident on his cheek. 

A small chuckle escaped from you, and you had to look down bashfully, trying your best to hide your flusteredness. I always think about you.

You wondered why you never paid more attention to the Avenger who always had business in your department. 

“That’s really sweet of you to say. If I’m being honest, I was genuinely ready to give up on love tonight,” you said with a small laugh.

Bucky swallowed. “Loo—” Before he could finish his sentence, something wet landed on top of his forehead. Then another one. And another one. It had started to rain. He could have sworn that wasn’t the predicted forecast tonight.

The two of you looked up, letting the steady gentle rain hit the surfaces of your skin. It was probably a good idea to find shelter, maybe stand underneath a roof for the time being until the unexpected summer rain went away.

But the two of you just stood there, completely still, looking ridiculous to onlookers. And then you bursted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry, it’s just… I always imagined what it would be like to be stuck in a storm.” 

He grinned. “And how is it?” he yelled through the pitter-patter. 

“Hmm. Not as romantic as I thought it’ll be,” you noted amusingly.

Bucky met your eyes for a moment, then swallowed a breath. “Dance with me?” he asked, extending a hand towards you. 

You raised a brow, heart skipping a beat at his words. You would be lying if you said the hopeless romantic in you never imagined yourself in this position multiple times. You just never thought it would be with Bucky Barnes.

Taking his hand, he led you with small slow steps. 

“You must’ve done this a lot back in your days,” you teased playfully.

Connecting his eyes with yours, he confessed, “This is the first time I’ve danced with someone in the rain.”

Bringing you in and out, and then lifting your arm to twirl you around while the water rippled beneath your feet, it felt like you were suddenly transported elsewhere. Like a movie you had seen on screen that had you swooning. Or a novel you had read late into the night with a gigantic smile on your face. You almost expected some low jazz to start playing soon. But even if it didn’t, it would’ve been fine, because you had the soft glow of moonlight peeking out from behind the clouds, the summer rain, and Bucky with you. It was already enough to set the scene. 

He looked particularly boyish tonight with his hair sticking to his forehead. You had the urge to sweep the strands away.

You let out a small yelp when Bucky dipped you down before pulling you back up so you were pressed into his chest. You were glad the sound of raindrops masked your beating heart. 

He was a bit rusty, he knew that. It has been over seventy-years since he danced with someone. He couldn’t believe how you would think no one wanted to put in the effort with you. He would dance with you in the rain all the time if that’s what you wanted. Would probably do anything you asked of him, if he was being honest.

You’re not a very good dancer, you had to admit. But Bucky was leading you through the whole thing, even smiling down at you when you accidentally stepped on his foot. 

You wondered how many people this beautiful and charming being of a man had swept off their feet before. Hopefully, he still had space in his heart for you. Because you were completely wooed.

As the rain slowed down and sky started to clear ever so slightly, you realized that the spark you were always complaining about not feeling—it was here, in this very moment, ignited from the touches between the two of you. It was there the moment you took his hand. Giving him another sneaky glance, your eyes lit up like a thousand stars.

Maybe the right person was in front of you all along. 

Bucky doesn’t know how long the two of you stood there in the aftermath, looking into each other's eyes. It’s the brightest thing in the city, he thought.

Moments later, you removed yourself from him. “Well, the rain stopped.” 

“It certainly did,” he said, sounding faintly amused. 

“I guess I should get going,” you said, though you were still lingering around.

Bucky, who was soaked to the bones, asked, “Should I take you home?”

You shook your head. “I’m okay. My place is only a few stations from here. Thank you for offering though.” Maybe next time.

Before you completely escaped from his vision, he shouted your name, causing you to pause in your steps and look over your shoulder. “I hope you’re not giving up on love.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to fight back a smile.

How could you?

Bucky Barnes gave you a million reasons to believe in love again. 

[flowersforbucky]

all's well that ends well to end up with you

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together.

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: SMUT, 18+ only mdni, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, nipple play, reader is afab, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader is described as being shorter than bucky, fluffy as hell, sweet domesticity

wrote this for my bb @embbarnes 💕 happy (very early) valentine's day, everyone!

Of all the ways you had been hoping to spend the last few hours of Valentine’s Day, over 30,000 feet in the air next to a snoring man who has never heard of deodorant was at the bottom of your list.

You should have seen it coming from the moment that your two day mission was extended to a three day mission, but you naively held out hope that you’d be able to make it back home in time to salvage the second half of the day.

Getting back early enough to keep the seven o’clock dinner reservations that you’d made for a new, upscale steakhouse in Brooklyn would have been possible if a last minute thunderstorm hadn’t delayed your flight back to New York.

Now it’s already half past seven, and you’ll be lucky if you make it back home before midnight.

Truthfully, you don’t care about the dinner reservations. Sure, you’d heard great things about the food and you had been excited to go, but you could easily reschedule the reservations for another time. The only thing that you were truly bummed about was not getting to spend the day with Bucky.

Today is your first Valentine’s Day as a couple, and instead of spending it with him, you’re spending it on a commercial flight with dozens of strangers. You can’t help but wonder how many of them are missing their significant other, too.

If you’d had it your way, you would have woken up to his face this morning. The two of you would have slept in as late as you desired, and had a slow, lazy morning before cooking him brunch. Waffles, sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs with extra cheese and hot sauce – all of his favorites. You would have taken a stroll through the park before stopping at the bakery that you frequent for doughnuts and coffee, and maybe visited the botanical gardens before your dinner reservations this evening.

Bucky had assured you that it wasn’t a big deal and that the two of you would make up for it when you were back home. He patiently reminded you that life doesn’t take holidays and special occasions into consideration when dishing out things such as extended work trips and inclement weather conditions.

Valentine’s Day aside, you simply miss him. You’ve been missing him since the moment you left for Nebraska, and you’re more than ready to be back in his arms. This is not the first time you’ve been apart due to work related trips, but this is by far the longest – a whopping seven days.

You miss the way he wants to keep at least one hand on you throughout the night, the way he talks to Alpine as if she will actually respond, and the way that he hums without even noticing that he’s doing it. All of the seemingly little things that you don’t think much of on a day to day basis, but when you’re apart, make you miss him all the more.

By the time your flight lands in New York and you catch an Uber back to your apartment, it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Bucky, of course, had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you had insisted that you were okay with getting an Uber, not wanting him to get out so late at night in the heavy rain.

Plus, if he had picked you up, it would have ruined your plan to surprise him by stopping by his favorite pizza parlor down the block from your apartment on your way home. Sal’s Pizzeria is always open until midnight, and every year they run specials the entire week of Valentine’s Day on heart-shaped pizzas.

Knowing Bucky, he’s likely been living off of instant Ramen since you left for your trip, so you figure he’ll be ecstatic over a late night pizza. Not to mention, you’re famished yourself – all you’ve eaten since lunch being the pack of Biscoff cookies you’d been given on the plane.

Lugging your suitcase, a backpack, and the large pizza box, you fumble with your keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

At first, you assume that Bucky is already asleep. But as you walk down the short hallway, you realize there’s soft music playing from somewhere in the apartment. You don't think much of it, since you know that Bucky prefers playing music as opposed to the television for background noise.

It’s almost completely dark, minus low orange lighting that trickles into the hallway from the kitchen.

“I’m home, baby,” you call softly as you approach the kitchen’s entryway. “I know it’s late, but I brought you some pizza, if you're hun—”

You stop dead in your tracks when you step into the kitchen. Dozens of tea light candles illuminate the room, placed strategically on the island in the middle of the room. And on the countertops, and the shelves – basically any flat surface twinkles with the delicate flames.

You stand frozen as a statue with your mouth agape as you take in the scene before you. In addition to the candles, there’s a spread of food across the island. Plates of delicious smelling pasta, small bowls of soup and glasses of red wine. Tied to the backs of the barstools are red and pink heart-shaped balloons.

It looks straight out of a romance movie.

“Pizza pairs well with pasta, I think,” Bucky's voice breaks you out of your trance. “Can never have too many carbs.”

Your gaze snaps over to where he emerges from the den. He wears a bashful smile, and even in the low glow of the candlelight, you can see the faint hint of blush blooming across the apples of his cheeks. He has his hands behind his back, as if trying to conceal something from you.

“You did all of this?” You ask lamely. Your voice is barely a whisper and contains a noticeable quiver. “For me?”

You can’t wrap your brain around it. No one has ever done anything quite like this for you. All of your ex boyfriends always shrugged off Valentine’s Day, leaving you feeling lucky if you got so much as a card. You’d long ago learned not to expect much of anything. Definitely not anything as intimate and thoughtful as this.

“Of course for you,” he murmurs with a low chuckle. He saunters over to where you’re still standing with the pizza box clutched in your hands, and pulls what appears to be a bouquet of flowers in a large mason jar out from behind his back.

“Who else would it be for? Alpine?” He teases, extending the jar to you. You plop the box onto the counter so that your hands are free to accept the flowers.

Upon closer inspection, you realize the bouquet of flowers are not real flowers.

Well, yes and no – they’re wildflowers, made of out Legos. You can’t help but giggle, remembering how you had mentioned how cute you think the Lego set is when you saw it while buying some groceries at Target a few weeks ago. You giggle even harder when you picture Bucky assembling all of the tiny pieces of the bouquet with his large, vibranium fingers.

Your eyes begin to well with tears that threaten to spill over. You quickly blink them back, not wanting to show just how emotional the ornate, colorful arrangement of plastic flowers is making you.

Not just the bouquet – all of it. The food and the wine, the balloons, the candles, the forties music playing lowly from the record player in the living room – the sheer amount of time and attention that he put into creating such a romantic display, and all from the comfort of your home.

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, wiping away a stray tear with sleeve of your sweater. You place the mason jar of the plastic flowers in the midst of the spread of food in front of you, making the scene complete.

“It’s all perfect.” He opens his arms to you, and you happily melt into his embrace. He smells of his familiar earthy cologne, and you can’t help but inhale deeply, relishing in the comfort of his scent and warmth.

Even if you’d come home to him passed out in bed, you would’ve been ecstatic to just crawl under the covers beside him. All of this is more than you ever would have hoped for.

“All I got you is a lousy heart-shaped meat lovers pizza,” you sniffle against his t-shirt and you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. You know that you have the reasonable excuse of being on an assignment in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere Nebraska for the last week, but you still feel bad.

“Hey,” he murmurs, using his index finger to tilt your face to look up at him. He grins down at you for a moment before tenderly pressing his lips against yours. You melt into him right away, having missed the feeling of his lips on yours in the week that you’ve been apart.

His hands travel to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Your own hands cradle his face, your thumbs caressing the light dusting of stubble that adorns his cheeks. You can already feel the outline of an erection forming through the thin material of his pajama pants when he pulls away, much to your disappointment.

“I love meat lovers pizza,” he assures you with a smirk. “And I love you. The best present you could give me is coming home to me.”

“Still. I’m going to make it up to you,” you promise with a feather light kiss to his lips. “I promise. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to—”

You’re cut off by a low rumbling noise that sounds from between your bodies – a reminder that you haven’t eaten a substantial meal in twelve hours now. You glance over to the plates of food on the island beside you, inhaling the delicious aroma of the dishes.

“I made an educated guess that you’d be hungry,” Bucky chuckles. He reluctantly drops his hold on your waist and moves to pull the barstool out for you. You hop up, taking your seat in front of a heaping plate of pasta and a bowl of French onion soup. Your stomach growls again at the sight.

“Did you make all of this?” You ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. It’s not that Bucky is a bad cook – he has a few go-to meals that are always excellent, but he normally doesn’t stray too far out of his comfort zone.

“I did not,” he admits with a sigh. He takes a seat directly across from you. “I ordered takeout from the bistro down the street before they closed earlier. Heated it all back up when you texted me that you were almost home.”

“Well, it’s fucking delicious,” you mumble through a mouthful of the creamy pasta.

You eat together in the glow of the candlelight, with soft music playing in the background and heavy rain beating down against the windows of your apartment. You talk about everything from the details of your mission to what he did while you were away. The food is delicious, the wine he picked out pairs perfectly, it’s cozy and peaceful and romantic – and you realize that you’re enjoying this so much more than you ever would have enjoyed an upscale steakhouse in downtown Brooklyn.

You both end up being too full of pasta and soup to eat any of the pizza that you’d brought home, but you’re happy that you’ve got a whole pizza to look forward to having for lunch tomorrow.

“Thank you, baby,” you tell him after swallowing the last sip of your wine. “For all of this. It was more than I could’ve hoped for today.”

He reaches across the counter, grabbing your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. “Of course,” he murmurs against your skin, eliciting goosebumps down your arm. “As much as I wish we could’ve spent the day together, I still wanted to make the last hour of it as special as possible.”

He stands, releasing your hand as he begins to collect the empty plates and glasses. “You go on and get ready for bed, yeah? I’ll clean up in here.”

“Nonsense. It's almost midnight. These dishes can wait until the morning. Just stick them in the sink and come shower with me.”

You don’t even care if the whole apartment still smells of garlic and French onion soup in the morning – you’ve been showering and sleeping without him for the last week, and it’s still technically Valentine’s Day, so you’ll allow the dirty dishes to sit for the next eight hours.

To your pleasant surprise, he needs no further convincing. He piles the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and puts the uneaten pizza in the fridge while you get the shower water up to temperature. By the time his pajamas fall to the bathroom floor, you’re already standing under the hot stream of water.

He opens the shower door, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as soon as his eyes trail up and down your body. The way he looks at you never fails to make you feel like he’s seeing you naked for the very first time, every time.

His hands immediately come to rest on your hips, easing you back against the cool tiling of the shower wall. “God, I missed you,” he sighs as he massages his fingers into the meat of your hips. The contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold vibranium hand on your waist has you arching into his touch.

“I can tell,” you giggle, pulling his face down to yours by the back of his neck. His mouth slates over yours, his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip. You part your lips for him right away, more than ready to feel and taste him after all of your time away.

He nudges your legs apart with his knee, inserting one of his large thighs in-between your own. You sink your bare pussy onto the expanse of his muscular thigh, dragging your center across him for friction. He kisses you until you’re breathless, and only pulls away to instead latch his mouth over one of your nipples. He rolls it between his lips and tongue, using his hold on your waist to help move you up and down his thigh. He alternates between each nipple, kissing and sucking on each until they’re pert and pebbled.

His erection gains your attention as it juts against your belly. You reach between your bodies, taking his length in your hand and stroking him with ease, the water from the shower making his skin slick.

You whimper above him, desperate for some release. He laughs, peppering kisses across your breasts and up your neck. You feel him smiling into the column of your throat.

“I think you missed me, too,” he murmurs against your pulse point.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice etched with impatience. “Why don’t we hurry and get out this shower so I can show you just how much I missed you?”

He presses a final kiss to the side of your neck before pulling away and smirking down at you. He reaches over to one of the shelves in the shower, grabbing a loofah and your bottle of body wash.

“I’ll have you know that I showered before you got home,” he says as he squirts a dollop of the gel onto the sponge. “I’m just here for your entertainment – and your convenience, of course. Now turn around.”

You do as he says, turning around to face the shower wall. You brace yourself against the tiles with your forearms, relaxing as he begins to massage the soap across the tops of your shoulders and down your back.

He takes his time, lazily rubbing the skin of the backs of your thighs before reaching around and doing the same to your stomach and chest. As good as it feels, all you can focus on is the head of his cock nudging against the curve of your ass.

“Bucky.”

The word comes out somewhere between a moan and a warning – a warning that if he doesn’t finish lathering your body in the next two seconds so you can rinse the fuck off, you’re going to take matters into your own hands.

“What is it, baby?” he asks innocently, stepping forward ever so slightly so that his cock inches between the space where your thighs meet your ass.

You turn back to face him, grabbing the loofah out of his hand and tossing it to the opposite end of the shower. The stream of water that beats down against your bodies washes the suds down the drain.

“You’re really going to tease me like that? On Valentine’s Day, of all days?”

“Pretty sure it’s after midnight now,” he quips with a smirk.

You turn so that you’re out of the direct line of the water, and lower yourself to the shower floor. His cock bobs inches in front of your face. You grasp him in your hand, languidly stroking his length as you stare up at him.

“Then I guess you’re lucky that I missed you so much.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but snaps it shut with a sharp intake of breath when you wrap your lips around his tip. You swirl your tongue around him, lapping up the beads of pearlescent white that had gathered around his slit. You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

Above you, he throws his head back and hisses at the sensation. His metal hand cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements. You gag at the overwhelming fullness, pulling away from him for air. You ease him back into your mouth, setting a steady pace. He rocks his hips forward, meeting your movements with his own.

In one hand, you cup his balls, gently massaging the sack. With your free hand, you attempt to relieve the growing ache between your own thighs by rubbing quick circles over your clit. The thrusts of his hips start to grow erratic, and you feel him twitch against your tongue when he suddenly pulls away from you.

“Not gonna cum in your mouth,” he answers when he looks down to see your questioning stare. “Not tonight. Missed you too much.”

He pulls you up by the tops of your arms and eases you back against the shower wall once more. He then takes your place on the floor, kneeling in front of you. He trails kisses along the wet skin of your thighs as he hooks one over his shoulder. He wastes no more time, diving into your pussy. His tongue swirls over your clit as he brings one long, metal finger to tease your hole. He nudges it inside as his lips suction around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of your folds.

Your body goes relaxed, your back sliding down the wet tiling of the shower wall. Bucky helps support you from down below as he sinks his vibranium digit deeper inside you.

The coil in your lower belly tightens quickly, pent up from a whole week without his touch. He can always tell when you’re close by the little noises that you make and the way that you tug on the short brown locks of his hair with your fingers.

He groans as he licks a thick strip up your slit, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you, your cunt clenching around his thick vibranium finger as he sucks your clit until you go still above him.

It's then that it hits you that the water from the shower has started to run cold.

“Come on,” Bucky says, rising as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He turns the faucet off and grabs the two towels that hang over the glass wall of the shower, handing you one before wrapping his around his waist. “Let's get out of here. I’ve got one more gift to give you before we continue this.”

“Another gift? You’ve already done so much. I didn’t even get—”

He gently shushes you with a sly grin, exiting the shower before you can protest any further. You pat your skin dry before securing the towel around your chest and then follow him into your shared bedroom.

Alpine is snoring softly at the foot of your king sized bed, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re even home. Everything is exactly as you left it, from the stack of half finished books on your nightstand to the orange Himalayan salt rock lamp that hasn’t been turned off a single time since the two of you moved into the apartment together. The comfort and familiarity of everything makes you feel all the more grateful to be back home.

You grab a bottle of lotion off of your bedside table and begin lathering it onto the skin of your legs as you watch Bucky rummage through the drawer of his own nightstand. After a moment, he pulls out a small, dark red colored box.

“Catch!” He warns before gently tossing it across the bed to you. You catch it, a smile blooming across your face as you sooth your thumb over the velvet material encasing the small box. He walks over to your side of the bed to stand beside you.

You raise the lid to box, revealing a dainty gold chain with a capital letter B dangling in the center.

You think it’s perfect. It’s isn’t overly ostentatious – it’s the perfect size, and so very you.

“Do you like it?” Bucky asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“I love it,” you assure him, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful he is. “Help me put it on?”

You don’t care that it’s the middle of the night, you want it on you right now.

Bucky takes the box from you, carefully removing the necklace. You turn away from him, letting him drape the delicate chain around your neck. The charm lands just below your clavicle.

“There,” he murmurs as he clasps the chain together. You turn back to face him, letting him see his initial displayed across your chest. “Perfect.”

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper as you raise up on your feet to press your lips to his. The light flavor of your slick lingers on his lips, sending a fresh wave of arousal through your gut. “So much.”

“Of course,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Now lay down. Wanna see how it looks on ya without the towel.”

••••••

thanks so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

[lokidokieokie]

The Calm After the Storm

Summary: After a grueling mission, Bucky and Y/n find solace and strength in each other's love.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warning(s): fluffy fluff, mentions of a tough mission, lovey dovey things, Bucky Barnes ('cause he's just a warning himself), lemme know if I missed anything

The sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the tranquil lake as Bucky and Y/n sat side by side on a weathered wooden dock. The air was filled with a gentle breeze, carrying the scent of fresh pine trees and wildflowers. It was a moment of respite after a tumultuous mission, and the both of them relished in the tranquility that surrounded them.

Bucky turned his head to steal a glance at her. The fading light illuminated her face, highlighting the subtle freckles that dusted her cheeks and the soft curve of her lips. The remnants of worry and exhaustion were etched on her features, but they were slowly fading away, replaced by a sense of calm. Bucky couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern.

She turned to face him, their eyes meeting. She offered a small smile in return, her fingers tracing circles on the dock's worn wood. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just glad we made it back in one piece."

Bucky's metal arm brushed against her own, a silent show of solidarity. "You were amazing out there, you know. I don't know what I would've done without you by my side."

A blush crept onto her cheeks as she averted her gaze, the praise making her heart flutter. "You weren't so bad yourself, Sergeant Barnes. As always, you kicked some serious butt."

Bucky chuckled, the sound melodic and warm. "Guess we make a pretty good team, huh?"

The two fell into a comfortable silence, their shoulders touching as they watched the sun dip below the horizon. The vibrant colours of dusk reflected on the water, casting an ethereal glow that seemed to mirror the connection between Bucky and Y/n. They had been through countless battles together, their shared experiences forging an unbreakable bond.

Her fingers intertwined with Bucky's, their hands fitting together perfectly like the missing pieces of a puzzle. Bucky's touch sent a wave of reassurance and comfort through her, erasing any lingering traces of fear. It was a silent understanding, a language spoken between them without words.

"You know," she began softly, her voice laced with vulnerability, "I don't think I could've come this far without you. You've been my anchor, James."

Bucky squeezed her hand gently, his voice filled with unwavering sincerity. "And you've been mine, Y/n. You've shown me that there's still goodness left in this world, even after everything I've done."

Their gazes met once more, the depth of their feelings mirrored in their eyes. Time seemed to stand still as they leaned in, their lips brushing against each other's in a tender kiss. It was a silent promise, a shared understanding of the love and support they found in one another.

As they pulled apart, Bucky rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. "We'll always have each other's backs, no matter what comes our way. I'll protect you, Y/n. Always."

A tear slipped down Ella's cheek, but it held no sadness. It was a tear of gratitude, of immense love for the man before her. "And I'll stand by your side, Bucky. Through thick and thin."

In that moment, as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, Bucky and Y/n found solace in each other's arms. The echoes of their past faded away, replaced by the promise of a brighter future. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, drawing strength from their unwavering love and unbreakable bond.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, the lake embraced their shared silence, forever holding their secret love story beneath its gentle ripples.

A/N ahhh, I just love those two with a passion!

I would also like to apologise for not updating any stories in a while...I've been focusing on my Uni work (shocking, I know); and I've finally just found out where I'm being placed for my teaching practical 😳

New chapters of all my series (both normal and mini) should be coming out soon :)

tagging the usual, please lemme know if you'd like to be removed or added to the taglist :)

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @fall-myriad

[witchywithwhiskey]

a halloween trick and a halloween treat

pairing: cat shifter!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: you wake shortly after midnight on halloween, thinking it must've been your rescue cat disturbing you. but when you discover a naked, sleeping stranger in your bed, you're in for a much bigger surprise.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), monsterfucking, shifter dynamics (mating, purring, a nonhuman cock), sorta fated mates, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple sucking, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, dry humping, light bdsm dynamics, lots of check-ins, biting, dirty talk, alpha kink, praise kink, pet names (koshechka [russian for kitty]), aftercare, very fluffy happy ending

word count: 12.9k

a/n: i had the idea for this fic so many weeks ago i don't even remember what inspired it, but i thought it might be a fun halloween fic! i struggled a bit with this fic, especially the magic and justifying bucky's decisions, so i hope it all makes sense!! suspension of disbelief is your friend with this one 😅 anyway i hope y'all enjoy!! ♡

halloween fics masterlist

Something was…off. 

It was the middle of the night, the waxing moon shining brightly through the curtains of your bedroom, an October chill in the air, and you’d been woken by… something. A sound, maybe? 

It wasn’t uncommon for your rescue cat to wake you up in the middle of the night by knocking something over or playing with one of the many toys you’d gotten him. Sometimes, he’d even wake you up when he gently padded onto your bed in the middle of the night to snuggle into your body over the covers.

You smiled sleepily at the memory of having been woken up plenty of times in that manner since you’d found the Russian Blue trapped in a bucket behind your apartment building the previous November. You’d named the cat Bucky, which you could admit wasn’t the most creative idea you’d ever had, but it fit the mischievous feline. 

At the very least, you certainly understood how he’d gotten himself trapped in that bucket, since he’d gotten himself stuck in any number of places around your apartment in the year since you’d brought him home, yowling for help until you rescued him. 

In fact, you sometimes thought he got himself stuck on purpose for the sole reason of getting your attention—and the soothing snuggles you offered him afterward, cooing soft words about how he was your precious, handsome man in his soft little ears. 

But that October evening, almost a year after you’d brought the cat home from the vet with a clean bill of health, you strained your ears to listen to the dark stillness of your apartment. You couldn’t hear the telltale padding of Bucky’s paws, or feel his warm body curled up next to yours. 

Something still felt…different. Off.

Thinking about it more, you thought you felt a weight on the other side of your queen-sized bed. When you shifted, and the covers caught on something, as if they were being weighed down by something, you thought you must’ve been woken by Bucky jumping onto the bed and curling up to sleep.

Your eyes were still closed and you were snuggled deep beneath your blankets, but you pushed an arm free, reaching across your bed, your fingers seeking the soft fur of your cat. But when you searched the spot just below the other pillow you kept on your bed—in the hopes that you’d one day have a partner to share your bed with—you didn’t feel Bucky.

You felt bare skin. Warm, bare skin. Warm bare skin covering a broad, muscled back. 

Pulling your hand back with a hiss, you wrenched your eyes open and found that it wasn’t your rescue cat in bed with you—it was a man. A man with his broad back turned to you, his soft brown hair messy on the other pillow and his spine curved like he was curled into himself. 

And when your eyes trailed down the length of his back, you realized with a gasp that this stranger was naked. In your bed. In the middle of the night. 

What the actual fuck!? 

You sucked in a sharp inhale, your lungs filling as your body prepared to let loose the shrillest scream you could manage, because what the fuck!? 

The man must’ve been woken by your gasps or your movement, because before you could make another sound, his head rolled over on the pillow and he blinked at you.

His eyes…

For a moment, they seemed to shine yellow in the moonlight—so much like Bucky’s when you were snuggling in bed before falling asleep. It stole the breath from your lungs, and your scream died in your throat. 

As you watched, the man’s eyes shifted into a calm, piercing blue, and you had the odd feeling you recognized them. It almost looked like they were the same shade as your Russian Blue’s, even if they looked so different, so human.

The man’s eyes flickered with confusion and his soft lips pulled down into a frown. He reached a hand out to you, as if wanting to comfort you, but jerked to a sudden stop, his gaze falling on his own hand and staring at it as if it wasn’t his own. 

He looked almost as disturbed as you felt finding a strange man sleeping naked in your bed.

The moment he’d looked away from you, you’d filled your lungs with more air, preparing to finally scream for help, and the man’s gaze flicked back to you. Just before you could scream, the man moved swiftly, rolling over and throwing his body on top of yours. 

His strong arms caged you in beneath the blankets and his broad, warm chest pressed down on yours, keeping you pinned but not crushing you. The man’s hand cupped the back of your head and pressed your face into the curve at the base of his neck, effectively muffling your scream into his smooth skin. 

It all happened so fast, you didn’t have a chance to feel scared, and a second later, a purring sound filled your ears. Vibrations seemed to come from the man on top of you, making your entire body hum pleasantly from the sensation traveling through the blankets that were trapped between your bodies. 

It was remarkably comforting…and oddly familiar in a way you couldn’t place. It made you feel…safe. 

So safe that your body, which had been tensed with fear, slowly relaxed. All your muscles loosened until you were a melted puddle of pleasant tingles. A dazed smile teased the corners of your lips and you nuzzled the man’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin. He smelled like something wild, like the night and the moon. 

The purring tapered off, and without the sensation of the vibrations reverberating through your body, you tesned again. It came back to you that you were pinned beneath the blankets of your bed by a strange, naked man, who’d somehow broken into your apartment in the middle of the night. 

You began to thrash beneath the cage of the man’s broad chest, kicking your legs and flailing your arms to try to dislodge him, but he was a solid weight on top of you. 

In fact, if he wasn’t a strange, naked man, he’d make a pretty good weighted blanket. But as it was, fear was making your pulse pump hard in your veins—that is, until you heard his voice. His first words.

“It’s me,” he rumbled, his words barely discernible above the purring that started again from his chest. His voice was deep, rough, gravelly, like he hadn’t used it in a long while. “It’s Bucky—your Bucky.”

The breath stalled in your lungs and all thoughts of screaming died a quick death. You blinked past the man’s shoulder, staring up at your ceiling, trying to process what he’d said. How could this man be your cat, Bucky?

The orange glow of the streetlight was filtering through your curtains, joining the bluish hue of the moon, casting your room in dark, multihued shadows. It was late October—it was Halloween, if you remembered correctly, since it must’ve been after midnight.

It was the time for spooky things, and you were probably more inclined than most to believe in the fantastical, but you couldn’t seem to wrap your still sleepy mind around the fact that there was a strange, naked man in your bed and he claimed to be your pet cat. That just…it couldn’t be real. Right?

The man kept purring, and the longer you thought about it, the more peculiar it seemed. Men didn’t purr like that. Like a cat trying to soothe a frightened kitten. But that’s exactly what he was doing—and you were the frightened kitten in this scenario, which didn’t bother you as much as you would’ve thought. Because the purring did feel and sound very nice…

But still, he couldn’t be Bucky. That would mean he was somehow able to shift between human and cat form, and you didn’t care how many romantasy novels you read about shifters falling in love with humans, they couldn’t be real. They just couldn’t. 

Even as you thought that, and told yourself you knew what was real and what was fantasy, the fact that the man was also your pet cat was the only thing that made sense. It was the only explanation for why his purr sounded so much like Bucky’s, why his eyes had looked so much like Bucky’s, why his warm, wild scent reminded you so much of Bucky. 

“B-Bucky?” you whispered into his shoulder, your voice shaky and uncertain. You were so quiet, you didn’t know if he’d heard you. But his purring softened, and he pushed up enough that he could hover above you. You saw his face properly for the first time.

And…oh. What a handsome face it was.

Two piercing blue eyes framed a straight nose, leading down to a pair of perfectly soft-looking lips. His jaw was broad and sharp, softened slightly by the thick, dark scruff that was almost long enough to be a beard. In the moonlight, you could see patches of silver streaking through the dark brown of his scruff, and you ached to rake your nails through it.

Instead, you flicked your gaze to his brown hair, which was longish and falling into his face in the most charming way. But even as you wondered how it’d feel to run your fingers through the man’s soft hair, your eyes wandered back down to his eyes, which were staring at you warily. He was watching you closely for your reaction, but you were too stunned by his handsomeness to do more than stare back. 

“Are you going to scream again?” he asked gruffly, his voice still raspy from sleep or disuse, you couldn’t be sure. 

You took a moment to think about his question, really think about it. If you were honest with yourself, you were starting to believe the man was, somehow, who he said—Bucky, your pet cat transformed into a human. It was hard not to consider it, especially when you were staring up into his eyes that looked so much like Bucky’s that it gave you an eerie sense of déjà vu.

But the rational side of your mind reminded you that he could still be a lunatic pervert with eyes that just happened to look like Bucky’s. He could’ve been stalking you long enough to know your pet’s name, and could be trying to lure you into a false sense of security to…murder you or something. 

 So you narrowed your gaze on him.

“Maybe,” you finally answered. “Depends on whether you can prove you are who you say you are.”

He nodded like he wasn’t surprised by your answer and looked away, his eyes trailing over your room. There was something about the way he looked at your pile of not-clean-but-not dirty clothes and the mess on top of your dresser that made you think he knew the landscape of your bedroom almost as well as you did. 

Which was, decidedly, not like a stalker pervert who’d never been in your room before. 

“First,” he started in that deliciously gruff voice of his. “Can you tell me if it’s Halloween?”

You huffed a sound that was halfway between surprise and frustration. You didn’t understand why he was delaying. You wanted him to either make you believe he was Bucky, or convince you he wasn’t so that you could get on with screaming and calling the cops. Feeling him laying on top of you was beginning to feel far too comforting for your liking.

“Yeah,” you answered, after a moment of thinking about the days. “I mean yes, it definitely is.”

The man looked a little crestfallen at your answer, his lips pulling down into a frown. You were so preoccupied with the way his soft mouth looked perfectly kissable amidst all the rough scruff on his jaw that you almost missed his muttered words. 

“I must’ve lost track of the days,” he said to himself, shaking his head with disappointment etched all across his handsome face. 

The urge to comfort him, to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close so you could bury your face in his chest and inhale his comforting, wild scent was strong, and it made you restless. You were frustrated with yourself, with the way you were waiting quietly for this strange man to get his bearings when you should’ve been demanding answers.

Unable to stop your frustration from boiling over, you wriggled beneath him impatiently, trying to buck him off. But you didn’t move his bulky form even a bit. And there was absolutely no part of you that found that attractive, that liked that he could pin you down and hold you beneath him with his sheer weight and strength. 

The purring emanating from the man’s chest picked up again, his body pressing you deeper into your soft mattress. He shifted a little, and if you weren’t mistaken, you felt something twitch against your belly, something that had you glaring up into his stupid handsome face.

“Tell me who you are and what you’re doing in my bed right now,” you hissed through snapping teeth, hoping you came across fiercer than you felt—which was like a spitting kitten for all the strength you had in comparison to the larger man. 

A slow, tempting smile spread across the man’s face, his purring stuttering like he was holding in a laugh. Despite yourself, you had to work to hold onto your anger, which wanted to abandon you in light of the stranger’s charmingly appealing grin.

“You’re adorable when you try to be threatening,” he cooed, still grinning at you. He was so close that his scent enveloped you, and his purr still vibrated softly through your body. It was all you could do not to relax and give in to the strange man’s charms. 

Then, to your great surprise, he ducked down and nuzzled your cheek with his own, his scratchy scruff roughing over your soft skin in an affectionate gesture.

It was so achingly familiar, it made your heart squeeze in your chest. 

It was so much like how Bucky would rub his sweet little face against your cheek and the underside of your chin when he was cuddling with you. You’d seen plenty of TikTok videos about how clingy male cats could be with their female owners, and that was exactly how Bucky acted. He was so affectionate, always rubbing himself against you and staring up at you like you were his whole world…

A surprised puff of air escaped your lungs, along with a shocked little whimper. The man must’ve heard you, because his purring picked up and he shifted so his mouth was right next to your ear.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmured, his voice gentle and genuinely remorseful. “Will you let me explain—please?”

It was the man’s final word, the strain in his hoarse voice, as if he was begging for his life, that did you in. With a disgruntled sigh, more at yourself than anything else, you said, “Fine.”

The man lifted his head and stared down at you, his piercing blue eyes raking over your face—and a soft affection that had your heart thumping harder in your chest. There was uncertainty in the gentle twist of his mouth and, as you watched, he took a deep, steadying breath, as if preparing himself to jump off a cliff. 

“I’m a shifter,” he said bluntly, his gaze watching you sharply. When you only blinked up at him, he went on. “I can turn into a gray cat—a Russian Blue, to be specific. Sound familiar?”

A smirk flirted around the edges of the man’s mouth as he raised his brows, as if prompting you to see the connection between what he said he was and your pet cat. However, you refused to be charmed by him, so you pressed your lips into a firm line and narrowed your eyes at him, telling him wordlessly that you still didn’t quite believe him. 

He huffed an amused laugh and went on.

“Halloween is the one day of the year I can’t stay in my cat form,” he explained patiently, his expression open and honest. “It’s something about the thinness of the veil on this day, it forces all shifters to walk the earth in our human forms.”

There was a beat of silence as you processed the man’s explanation. He really did look so earnest, and you couldn’t ignore all the similarities you’d already noticed between him and Bucky. The purring, the nuzzling, the eyes…

“So you’re my cat?” you asked dubiously, your eyes still narrowed up at him, mouth pursed in a skeptical frown. “Bucky?” 

The man nodded, hope transforming his face. But then he paused, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words more closely. 

“Well, yes—but my name isn’t Bucky.”

Your frown deepened. Embarrassed heat bloomed in your cheeks at the realization that you’d not only named the handsome Russian Blue you’d rescued from a bucket so unoriginally, but that he’d been a shifter who had a name of his own. 

“What is it?” you squeaked, trying to tamp down on your humiliation. 

“James Barnes,” he said, as he studied your expression. Something about the way a playful grin was spreading across his face told you that you weren’t successful in hiding your embarrassment from him. “But I like Bucky, too,” he said, ducking his head down to murmur in your ear, “Because it’s what you call me.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart flipped in your chest at the implication of his words, but a pleased warmth was flooding through your body and making you melt beneath his comfortably heavy weight. It took all your self-control not to purr right back at the strange man—James, or Bucky, or whoever he was. You still weren’t sure if you believed him.

“Kind of convenient that you can’t shift right now and prove you’re telling the truth,” you pointed out, trying to get the conversation back on track and get the undeniable proof you needed. You were surprised to find you wanted James to prove he was really Bucky. It would be…nice. 

At your words, the man sighed, leaning up so you could see his face while he carded his fingers through his hair in a sign of frustration. You couldn’t help the little stab of jealousy as you watched, wishing it was your fingers sifting through his soft strands. Maybe pulling a little bit, tugging him down to kiss you…

You shoved the thought away and focused on him as he began to speak.

“I know,” he huffed, a displeased frown on his face as he stared off to the side. Shaking his head to clear away whatever he was thinking about, his gaze refocused on you. “I had a plan.”

“A plan?” you echoed, unsure what he meant by that. 

“I was going to slip out before you woke up,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish smile curved his mouth. “And then bump into you when you go get your coffee—like you do every morning.”

“Ok, stalker,” you mumbled to yourself, a little disturbed by how well the man knew your routine. A ripple of fear passed through you, but it dissipated when James huffed a self-effacing laugh. 

“I know how that sounds,” he said, looking down at you, his blue eyes glittering with affection and his mouth curving into a fond smile. “But it was hard not to notice you going out every morning and coming back smelling like coffee and sunshine and happiness,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to meet you—really meet you—there, somewhere that made you smile.”

James shifted his arm, his hand cupping your face gently and his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth, his eyes staring at that spot, like he was picturing your smile. It was hard not to melt at the poetry of his words and the soft way he was looking at you, but you soldiered on with your interrogation of the strange man.

“What were you going to do after we met?” you asked, your voice more breathless than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t help it. Not when James was looking at you so intensely. 

“I was going to buy your coffee for you, strike up a conversation,” he said, his voice faraway, almost dreamy as he kept staring at your mouth. “Do things the right way.”

At that, your brow furrowed and your lips tipped down in a confused frown. That seemed to snap the man out of whatever daze he’d been in, his eyes flicking back to yours. 

“Do what the right way?” you asked. 

“You know…” he said, regarding you like he was trying to figure out if you were being deliberately obtuse or if you really didn’t understand. He must’ve decided you really didn’t know what he was talking about, because he went on. “Dating you, wooing you, telling you about what I am after you know me—the real me.” 

Your heart did that annoying little flip again, but you couldn’t help it, not when a man as handsome as James was talking about wooing you. Still, you weren’t going to let him off the hook just because the man—who may or may not be your pet cat (but probably was)—had a romantic side to him.

“Yeah that sounds like a better plan than letting me wake up to you sleeping naked in my bed,” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I know,” he huffed, pulling his hand away from your cheek and scrubbing it down his face as he groaned in frustration. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you were supposed to trust me. I had a plan.” His final words were bitten out through clenched teeth, and you could practically feel his annoyance radiating off him. 

“Mmm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, wanting to comfort him but not allowing yourself to give in to the urge. Not when you still had so many questions. “So if today is the only day when you can’t change shift at will, why have you been living as my pet for almost a year?”

For the first time in your conversation, Bucky’s face shuttered and his expression turned guarded. His eyes darted away from you and he rubbed a hand over his scruff, the soft, scratchy sound filling your quiet room. 

For a moment, you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against his scruff, to nuzzle him the way he had you, but you squashed the idea as soon as it flitted through your mind as you waited for him to answer your question.

Bucky’s gaze drifted back to yours, and the walls he’d put up moments before seemed to come down just as fast as he stared into your eyes.

“A pretty girl took me in and fed me and kept me warm,” he rumbled, his voice low and deliciously gruff as he raked his eyes over your face. “She let me sleep in her bed, and curl up with her. She let me comfort her when she was sad, and smiled just for me when she was happy.”

The way Bucky was looking at you, his gaze filled with so much naked affection, stole the breath from your lungs. You didn’t know when you started calling him Bucky in your mind, but you realized you truly believed that he was who he said he was. He was your cat, transformed into a human.

“What was I supposed to do,” he went on, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth. “Shift right in front of her, and scare the fuck out of her, then ask her out?” He laughed quietly, shaking his head ruefully in answer to his own question. “I wanted to do things right.” Cupping your face gently, he stared deep into your eyes. “Besides, I liked being yours.”

Happiness burst like fireworks in your heart. “You…” you trailed off, needing to swallow past your dry throat and your thumping heart before continuing. “You liked being mine?” you asked, needing to hear him say it again for some reason you couldn’t understand. It seemed too unreal that he could like being your cat more than he liked being able to live his life as a free man. Or shifter.

Bucky’s eyes slowly swept over your face, taking in your parted lips and your hopeful gaze. He seemed to be able to read you like a book, and you found you didn’t mind that so much, not when Bucky’s mouth was gently curving into a smile that was deeply pleased with what he saw in your expression. 

“I liked being yours,” he repeated for you, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through your body, settling deep in your core and making a warmth bloom that had everything to do with the man in your bed. “And I wanted you to want to be mine—to like being mine, too.”

He watched you for a long, silent moment. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought he was holding his breath, waiting for your reaction, though you were still too stunned to give him one. When he realized this, he spoke again.

“Please tell me I haven’t ruined things.”

The hushed desperation in his tone was your undoing.

Your arms pushed against the cocoon of blankets you were trapped in, and Bucky lifted himself up higher to let you pull free. He was watching you warily, like he was half expecting you to use your arms to push him off you. 

Instead, you lifted your hands and cupped his face, tugging on him gently until he lowered himself back down on top of you. His weight felt more familiar and comforting than it had any right, and you had to force your request from your lips. 

“Tell me something only you’d know, Bucky,” you whispered, your own thinly veiled desperation in your words. You already knew in your heart that he was Bucky—your Bucky—but you needed something more definitive to quell the fear and doubts in your mind. “Please.” 

He stared at you for a moment, something like hope and excitement swirling in his piercing blue gaze. When he spoke, his voice was gruff, full of emotion. 

“When you think I’m sleeping, you whisper secrets in my ear,” Bucky said, his eyes briefly trailing down to your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. But his gaze flicked back quickly to yours before continuing on. “You told me how annoying your coworker is—Agatha, right? And how you wish your boss appreciated you more.”

You were silent and still beneath Bucky, shock rolling through you and leaving you stunned. Bucky was right, you did have a habit of talking to your cat, whispering in his ear when he was curled up in your arms or on top of your chest, telling him all the things you didn’t say to anyone else. 

It was slowly dawning on you that the man really, truly was Bucky. But he seemed to take your silence as uncertainty, and so he went on. 

“You told me how you get sad and lonely sometimes,” Bucky rumbled, his arms shifting so he could cup your face in his big hands, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks. “You told me how you wished someone would hold you the way you held me.” 

Slowly, he lowered himself down on top of you, as if still waiting for you to push him away. Instead, your arms wound around his bare back, your fingers pressing into his skin and clinging to him while he nuzzled his scruffy cheek against yours. You returned the gesture, nuzzling him back.

“You told me how much you want to fall in love,” he murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin, making you shiver. “And how afraid you are of getting your heart broken.” 

Lifting himself up to look at you, you could see the pain and desire churning in his eyes, and you could hear it in the way his voice cracked on his last word. It all seemed to finally loosen your tongue.

“Bucky,” you whispered in a thick voice, tears threatening to fall with the sheer amount of emotion flowing through you. There was shock, of course, but also so much wonder and happiness. “It really is you,” you said, marveling up at the man above you, lifting your hands to trace the lines of his handsome face.

His eyes closed, like he was savoring your touch, and a purr kicked to life in his chest while a small smile curved the edges of his mouth. It was a mouth you were suddenly aching to kiss. And you couldn’t, for the life of you, come up with a reason why you shouldn’t. 

Just as tentative as he’d been, you leaned into Bucky, your hands tilting his face down to yours while you raked your nails lightly through the scruffy hair on his cheeks and jaw. You brushed your lips against his, so softly it could barely be considered a kiss.

You felt the big man above you stiffen with surprise, his eyes flying open to stare into yours with a question clear in his blue depths.

In answer, you leaned in again, pressing your mouth infinitesimally more firmly against his, and flicked your tongue out to swipe at his plump lower lip. 

He tasted like the night, dark and alluring, and you could already tell that you would quickly grow addicted to it, licking along the seam of his lips, searching for more.

Bucky groaned, the sound deep and masculine, sending delicious shivers down your spine as he dug his arms beneath your body and held you crushed to him. He captured your mouth before you could retreat again, kissing you until you were breathless. He kissed you like he’d been starving for you and since he’s gotten a taste, he’d be damned if he let you go.

It was intoxicating to feel the way he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and you gave yourself into it, kissing Bucky back as hard as he was kissing you. Your fingers sank into Bucky’s soft brown hair, clinging to him with the same desperate devotion with which he held you. 

Of their own accord, your legs spread beneath your blankets, allowing Bucky’s hips to settle into the cradle of your thighs. Even through the layers between your bodies, you could feel the hot, hard length of his arousal pressing into the juncture of your legs so tantalizingly, you moaned into his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Bucky growled, breaking free from your lips to press kisses along your jaw. His breathing was harsh in your ear, like he couldn’t catch his breath. “D’you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, koshechka?” He sucked on a spot just beneath your ear, dragging another mewling moan from your lips before answering his own question. “Since the day you brought me home. I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first day.”

“Bucky,” you chastised on an uncontrollable giggle as he nuzzled his scruffy jaw into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply like he was breathing in the scent of your skin. He groaned, making you shiver with pleasure. Still, the words burst out of you, “That’s creepy!” Your tone was meant to be admonishing, but your voice was too breathless to have much heat. 

“The smell of you and the taste of your skin are burned into my mind,” Bucky murmured before dragging the flat of his tongue up the curve of your neck, wringing a low, throaty moan from your lips. “But I wanted to know if your mouth would be sweeter.” He captured your lips for another kiss, his mouth moving against yours in a way that made your head spin.

“Is it?” you asked when he pulled away, giving you a brief reprieve from his drugging kisses. Bucky’s eyes looked as hazy as you felt, and he seemed to not understand your questions. “Sweeter, I mean.”

A slow, seductive smile spread across Bucky’s face, and even cast in the shadows of your room, you could see plainly how handsome he was—so much so, your breath caught in your lungs.

“Oh koshechka, your mouth is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured before diving down for another kiss.

Between your thighs, you could feel Bucky’s cock throbbing and twitching—and it was so hot, you could feel the heat of him through your blankets. 

A slight sheen of sweat was gathering in the creases of your thighs and behind your knees, your own center pulsing with a desperate ache to be closer to Bucky, to be pressed against his warm, bare skin. Your legs kicked restlessly at your blankets, trying to push them out of the way without letting go of your hold on Bucky, whose body was pinning yours to the bed.

Bucky chuckled against your mouth and lifted up enough to help you push the blankets off your body—laughing harder at your disgruntled whine—before settling back down on top of you. Your legs spread to make room for his narrow hips between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties. 

Without the blankets in the way, you could feel something strange about Bucky’s cock. There were…bumps on it? A pattern of bumps circling the shaft, which grew thicker toward the head. 

Your brows lowered in a frown of confusion and you tilted your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against the length of him, groaning in pleasure when the bumps dragged deliciously against your clit. 

But you were distracted from further exploration by Bucky’s voice.

“Do you want to know what I looked forward to most about dating you, koshechka?” Bucky asked against your lips, nipping and licking the breath from your lungs while he picked up your rhythm, grinding his cock against your slit through the meager fabric of your panties. 

“Wh-what?” you asked in a trembling voice, your hips rocking up against Bucky, your ankles looping around the backs of his thighs for more leverage to grind against his cock. 

“I couldn’t wait for the first time you’d let me stay over,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your jaw and playfully biting the lobe of your ear, drawing a gasp from your lips. “I’d give you my shirt to sleep in, instead of one of these little nightshirts you like,” he said, his fingers curling into the fabric and rucking it up around your hips, spreading your legs wider and giving him more access for his rolling hips.

“What’s wrong with my nightshirts?” you asked on a needy whimper. You pouted as you tipped your head down to look at him while he was busy placing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones through the thin cotton of your shirt. 

Bucky flicked his eyes up to yours and growled, “They don’t smell enough like me.” His hands slipped beneath your nightshirt, his warm palms skimming over your bare skin and making you shiver. He wrapped his fingers around your ribs, thumbs brushing over the lower curves of your breasts, just teasing your nipples while he stared up at you, watching the way you gasped for him.

It took you a long moment to process his words, and when you did, all you could manage was to whine his name, “Bucky.” The thought of smelling like him did something to your heart and your insides, melting them to the point that you squirmed from the heat flooding your body. 

As you watched, a slow smirk spread across his face. He lowered his mouth to one of your tits and flicked his tongue across your pebbled nipple through your shirt. 

“You should always smell like me,” he muttered into the soft curve of your breast, almost like he was talking to himself, before he latched onto your nipple and sucked the tight peak into his mouth.

Warm, wet heat surged through your body as Bucky suckled on you in long, deep pulls that tugged on a line connected directly to your clit, which was throbbing with need against his still gently rutting cock. His precum was slowly leaking onto your lower belly, making a mess of your panties, but they were ruined by your own arousal anyway.

Between Bucky’s cock and his mouth, your body was a mess of pleasure and wetness, your panties growing increasingly drenched the more he rocked against you, bullying your clit and torturing your nipples. His head shifted, moving to the other, before giving your other breast just as much attention and making your mind spin.

It took you long, long minutes before you could form a coherent thought, your mind catching on something Bucky had said. What tumbled from your lips was the inelegant question: “Do you even own a shirt?”

Bucky paused, like your question surprised him, and a second later he was laughing into the valley between your tits, his forehead pressed to the top of your sternum as his warm breath ghosted against you through your shirt.

“Koshechka,” he rumbled, still laughing as he raised his head to meet your curious gaze. His eyes were sparkling with humor and affection in the moonlight. “I have a whole apartment across town.”

“Then why did you stay with me?” you asked. Your brow furrowed in confusion at that revelation, even as curiosity began winding through your mind. What did his apartment look like? Was it cozy or sparse? Did he have plants or a massive flatscreen? Did he have a pet cat of his own? 

And who was taking care of his apartment while he’d been living with you? Or did he sneak out while you were at work to go hang out at his home?

Bucky’s voice reeled you back into the moment. 

“I told you, koshechka,” Bucky murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your swollen lips. 

It was soft and sweet and you didn’t want him to stop, but you were too curious about his answer to protest when he pulled away to look at you again. 

“A pretty girl took me in and kept me,” he rumbled, his voice low and delicious, his mouth curved into a mischievous smile that you desperately wanted to lick. “She let me cuddle her and nuzzle her cheeks and sleep in her bed, why would I leave?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he stared at you. “Being your pet was better than being my own man.”

Bucky’s words sank deep into your heart, tears of something like joy springing to your eyes, and you cupped his face to pull him in for another kiss. With no words, only your mouth, you told him how much his statement meant to you. 

He liked being with you more than he liked being free. How could you ever be expected to let go of a man who said such things to you? You didn’t know if you could, even considering the strangeness of your meeting.

Your kiss grew heated and your thoughts melted away, your body writhing beneath Bucky’s as you tried to press closer, despite there being little space left between your bodies already. A whine worked its way up your throat and Bucky swallowed the sound, his mouth curving against yours in a smile before he eased back. 

“May I?” he asked, nodding down to your nightshirt, which he was slowly pushing up further. It took you a moment to realize he was asking your permission to take it off, but when you did, you nodded. However, he didn’t move, only gave you a more intense look. “Use your words, koshechka.” 

“Yes, please…” you said, trailing off as a thought occurred to you. “Do you still want me to call you Bucky?” you asked, tilting your head on your pillow and staring up at the man who’d told you his name was James. 

You watched Bucky’s smile spread across his face and he ducked down, kissing you quickly, like he couldn’t help himself. He trailed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat while he pushed your nightshirt up slowly, teasingly.

“You can call me anything you want, koshechka.”

You considered his words distractedly while he tugged your shirt off, both of you pausing while Bucky admired your body. You had the urge to cover yourself, but held back, more than a little stunned by the sheer amount of heat and desire in Bucky’s gaze. A pleasant warmth prickled beneath your skin everywhere he looked, and it made you want to reach for him, so you did, tugging on his shoulders to pull him closer.

Obligingly, Bucky settled back down on top of you, his mouth working against your collarbones before trailing down to your tits. His big hands worked your soft flesh, kneading you firmly enough to make you gasp and writhe, while his mouth moved between kissing, licking and nipping your skin, teasing your nipples with purposeful flicks of his tongue. 

Despite how perfectly Bucky was working your body, your mind was still caught on what he’d said about calling him anything you wanted.

“What about daddy-cat?” you asked, your voice breathless as you held in a moan. It was the most ridiculous nickname you could think of, and you were curious to see how Bucky responded. He only huffed out a muffled laugh, suckling on your nipple and dragging the moan from your lungs that you’d been holding in.

“If you want,” he murmured against your skin, shrugging a shoulder and not even looking up from your tits.

“Okay,” you said, dragging out the word, your thoughts scattering when he moved to your other breast and sucked deeply on your nipple. Wetness flooded between your thighs and you whimpered pathetically. 

Suddenly, a word came to mind, one you’d seen in some fantasy novels you’d read, and it appealed to you in a way you couldn’t put into words—especially not with Bucky’s mouth on your tits. But it felt right, and it tumbled easily from your lips.

“Alpha.” The word was half gasp, half plea, and filled entirely with your need for Bucky.

Bucky went still, his body going rigid even as his cock twitched between your thighs. Then, his purr kicked to life in his chest, louder than you’d heard it yet.

The vibrations that had teased you through your blankets were so much more intense when your skin was pressed against Bucky’s, and you let out a soft, gentle moan. Your body relaxed instantly, melting beneath Bucky’s broad form while he dug his arms beneath your back and held you close to his chest. 

“I like that,” he rumbled through his purring, kissing up your chest and neck until his mouth found yours. “Call me that, koshechka.”

“Yes, alpha,” you said on a sweet sigh that Bucky swallowed down with a filthy groan, sounding like he was tasting something delicious.

“Fuck, koshechka, you’re making my cock so fucking hard,” he growled against your mouth, his words sliding over your tongue and making you shiver with need.

Bucky’s fingers circled your wrist and he dragged your hand down between your bodies slowly—slowly enough, and his grip loose enough, you knew you could’ve pulled away if you’d wanted. 

But you didn’t want to. You knew what he was doing, and you wanted to feel him, wanted to feel what you did to him. 

And you wanted to explore the strange shape of his cock.

“Feel what you do to me, koshechka,” Bucky growled, placing your palm on his cock and you sucked in a sharp breath of surprise at the feeling of it.

Your fingers circled the base of his cock and ran up the length, feeling the way it swelled and grew bigger as you neared the head. It was so thick, you wondered how he would fit inside you, but your body responded to that thought by growing wetter, and you knew you were eager to try to make it fit.

You stroked Bucky’s cock up and down the shaft, feeling the pattern of bumps circling it. They were more complex than you’d thought, more like barbs that caught slightly on your fingers and palm, though not in a painful way. Just in a way that made you shiver and wonder wildly what they would feel like inside you, dragging against your inner walls and stimulating you in a way you’d never felt before…

Suddenly, you were desperate to feel Bucky slide inside you.

“Alpha, please,” you begged on a whine, a need rising up in you that you couldn’t even begin to control. You shifted your grip on Bucky’s cock, pressing him into your panty-covered slit and grinding against him, writhing your hips beneath his large body. “Please fuck me—I need you inside me, alpha, please.”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky grunted, his hips jerking and fucking against your slick panties, his precum leaking from the tip of his cock and making even more of a mess of you. “Are you sure? I really did want to take you out on a date, do things the normal way…”

His frantic words trailed off on a moan when you pressed his cock deeper between your folds, until he was sliding between your puffy pussy lips. 

Even through your panties, you could feel the barbs on his cock rubbing against your clit and you let out a needy moan. The fingers of your other hand threaded through his soft brown hair and you pulled him close, until your lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

“You’re a cat shifter who’s been watching me sleep while pretending to be nothing more than my pet for almost a year,” you whispered, and even though you knew you’d have to deal with Bucky’s lie at some point, you weren’t ready yet. 

You wanted him, you wanted his cock buried inside you, so you nipped playfully at his earlobe to lighten the mood. Of course, you also thoroughly enjoyed the way his hips rutted between your thighs reflexively, making you giggle softly before you continued on. 

“I think we bypassed normal right around the time I brought you home and you decided to stay,” you murmured, a hint of humor in your tone. “We can play out your Halloween coffee shop meet-cute later, but for now, I need you to fuck me, alpha.”

A rumbling growl ricocheted in Bucky’s chest, teasing your skin where you were pressed together. Your nipples hardened further into tight, achy peaks and your pussy gushed between your thighs, reacting to the desire in Bucky’s growl. 

“I will take you out later,” he said firmly, “But I’ll always give you what you want, and if you want to be fucked—I’ll fuck you good, koshechka.” Bucky pushed up until he was hovering above you, flashing you a charmingly rakish grin. Then his hands were shoving your panties down over your ass and thighs, moving to pull them off you entirely. 

When that was done, Bucky sat back on his haunches and stared at you, laid bare beneath him, your skin swathed in the silvery light of the moonlight and the warm glow of the streetlight outside your window. His piercing blue eyes raked over every inch of bared skin, appreciating you for long, long moments. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, koshechka,” Bucky murmured distractedly, his hands sliding up your legs and pushing your thighs wide. He stared down at your sopping wet pussy with reverence etched in every line of his face. “Even your pussy is pretty—I just need a little taste.” His last comment was mumbled, like he was talking to himself, just before he ducked down between your legs.

The flat of Bucky’s tongue licked up the full length of your slit, digging into the top until he found your clit. His hot mouth against your cunt had you whining and whimpering, your fingers digging into his soft hair and holding on for dear life. He buried his face into your folds, his tongue licking deep into you and making you moan loudly while he ate you out.

“Fucking hell, koshechka, even your cunt is sweet,” Bucky groaned when he finally came up for air, pressing filthy wet kisses to your quivering thighs. You were close to the edge of your release already, but as much as you wanted to come, you wanted something else more.

“Alpha,” you begged in a whining tone, squirming against Bucky’s big hands that were pinning you to the bed. “Feel so empty.”

Bucky lapped teasingly at your clit, and you could feel his smile against your heated skin. He worked your body until you were writhing harder, squirming harder against his hands to rock into his mouth and grind down on his tongue. Still, it wasn’t enough and you whined louder in a wordless plea.

“C’mon, koshechka, come on my tongue and then I’ll fill you up with my cock,” Bucky murmured into your swollen folds, his command half-muffled against your slick pussy. 

Your head thrashed side to side on your pillow and you whimpered, “Alpha,” as you tried to hold on, tried to last until his cock was inside you. But Bucky was determined to feel you come on his mouth.

When he slipped two of his fingers into your drenched hole and stroked a spot deep inside you, the electric shot of pleasure was too much. Your fingers curled so tightly in Bucky’s hair, a distant part of your mind worried you’d yank some of it from his head. 

But you couldn’t think about that—not when he was pushing you over the edge and pleasure was crashing through you in an earth-shattering orgasm.

A silent scream caught in your throat as your whole body went rigid, ecstasy pulsing through your limbs while Bucky kept fucking you with his fingers and sucking on your clit. It was nearly overwhelming, how good his mouth and fingers felt, and you let yourself sink into the waves of pleasure as they washed over you.

You were still twitching with the remnants of your release when Bucky crawled up your body, his mouth kissing your belly and your ribs, pausing to flick his tongue over each of your nipples, then the hollow of your throat. Finally, his lips found yours and he kissed you passionately, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue. 

“Can you taste how sweet you are, koshechka?” he murmured against your mouth while he rubbed the length of your cock through your slick folds. The barbs were catching on your clit, making your hips twitch as you dragged in desperate gasps of air. “Sweet as a Halloween treat.” 

Bucky pressed another kiss to your lips even as you huffed a little laugh.

“I see how it is,” you muttered, a little bitterness seeping into your tone. “You play a trick on me and you still get a treat?” You didn’t quite know where the words came from, but it seemed you weren’t doing so well at putting off dealing with the fact that Bucky had hidden his true self from you for almost a year. 

It was annoying that the betrayal you felt was raising its ugly head before you’d even gotten to feel his cock inside you, but you supposed it had something to do with the deeply satisfied feeling of coming on his tongue. Still, you were embarrassed enough by your blurted, bitter question that you turned your head to the side, trying to hide in your pillow.

Bucky hovered above you, and you could see the serious expression on his face out of the corner of your eye. He gently grabbed your chin and turned you back to look at him, holding your gaze with his own.

“I’m sorry for lying to you for so long, koshechka,” he said, his tone entirely genuine. You could even see remorse simmering in his blue eyes. “I was selfish, and afraid you wouldn’t like me as much like this.” He gestured at himself, indicating his human form. 

That made you huff a laugh and roll your eyes a little before catching Bucky’s gaze again. “How could I not like you like this?” you asked, cupping his handsome face in your hands. Your nails raked lightly through his scruff, and he closed his eyes as a soft purr started in his chest. “But I’m going to need time to forgive you for lying.”

Bucky’s mouth pulled into a bittersweet smile and he nodded his head, his eyes opening again.

“I understand,” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss into your palm. “I’ll earn your trust back, I promise,” he vowed, staring deep into your eyes, as if willing you to believe him. 

Your lips curved in a small smile and you tipped your head up, pulling him in for a brief kiss. It was little more than a brushing of lips, but you felt the determination in the rigid line of Bucky’s shoulders. You ghosted your lips along Bucky’s jaw, sucking playfully at his skin as you tried to lighten the mood. 

“I still need you to fuck me, alpha,” you purred in Bucky’s ear, your thighs spreading wider beneath his hips, his cock pressing deeper between your still soaking folds.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned, his hips moving on instinct until the tip of his cock was pressed to your tight hole. But he stopped himself from pushing inside, instead pausing to ask you, “Are you sure, koshechka?” 

Your heart thumped harder in your chest at Bucky’s question, but you knew what you wanted. “Yes, alpha—please.” 

Your final word was a broken plea, and it seemed Bucky didn’t need to be begged again. He pushed forward, sinking slowly into your tight, warm pussy with a tortured groan. The head pushed inside you, then the thick bulge of his cock, and every additional inch felt like a revelation. 

“You feel so fucking good, koshechka,” he rumbled, his low, gravelly voice sinking into your skin and making you shiver. “Feel so fucking perfect.”

You didn’t have the breath to respond, but you shared his sentiment. The thick bulge of his cock stretched your tight hole to its limit, and you sighed in pleasure when he was finally buried deep. It was a little odd, the feeling of his inhuman cock inside you, but it felt perfect, too. 

For a moment, Bucky paused while he was fully impaled in your cunt. His arms curled around your body, and yours wound around his shoulders. You clung to each other, your chests rising and falling together as your hearts beat in tandem beneath your ribs. 

“Talk to me, koshechka, are you ok?” Bucky asked softly, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. He nuzzled into you, his scruffy face tickling your skin while a soft purr kicked to life in his chest.

Your body relaxed beneath Bucky’s large form and you nodded, trying to catch your breath a little before answering. 

“Yes, alpha, ‘m ok,” you mumbled in throaty voice, your fingers stroking idly through Bucky’s hair at the back of his head. His purr grew stronger, vibrating through you and your inner walls clenched around Bucky’s stiff length, pleasure pulsing through you at the wild, unusual sensation of his cock inside you. “So full.”

“Mm, your tight cunt feels good around my cock,” Bucky murmured in agreement, kissing up your neck until he could brush his lips against your sweaty temple. His scruffy jaw tickled your cheek and you squirmed lazily, a grin spreading across your face. “Feels like you were made for me—fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you koshechka?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed languidly, rocking your hips experimentally and feeling the slight drag of Bucky’s cock inside you, the barbs making your breath catch as delicious pleasure jolted through your body. Distractedly, you asked, “Do shifters mate?”

Bucky tensed above you, and your mind sharpened, focusing on his reaction and the way he was hiding his face in the pillow beside your head.

“James Bucky Barnes,” you growled in warning. He’d lied to you for almost a year, hiding his human identity from you while pretending to be nothing more than your pet, and you’d be damned if you let him keep lying to you. And you knew he was hiding something from you, his reaction to your question made that perfectly clear.

“Yes, we can scent our compatible mate,” he admitted on a gusting exhale, his voice muffled in the pillow.

You licked your lips as you processed that revelation. Unbidden, all the times that night that Bucky had told you how sweet you tasted, how deeply he’d breathed in your scent—and how good his wild scent smelled to you—came to mind. It seemed only natural that your next question was, “And, am I…?” 

“Yes,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could even finish your question. “You’re mine. I’m yours.” 

His words were slightly less muffled by his face buried in the pillow, and you were suddenly frustrated by the fact that you couldn’t see him. You pushed against his shoulder and twisted your hips until he obliged your wordless request and rolled onto his back, taking you with him.

Your knees dug into the soft mattress on either side of Bucky’s hips and you pushed yourself up with your hands planted firmly on his hard chest. Bucky’s piercing eyes were looking up at you warily, his hands settling lightly on your hips, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you anymore.

“How long have you known?” you asked on a whisper, watching him carefully.

“Since you found me in the bucket,” he confessed with a sheepish wince. “I scented it immediately, especially since I was in my cat form.”

Reflexively, your nails dug into Bucky’s skin as frustration surged through you. “Were you ever going to tell me?” you asked in a harsher tone. 

“I had a plan,” Bucky said, but his tone was apologetic, like he knew it wasn’t a good enough answer. 

For a long moment, you stared down at the man between your thighs. Your mate, apparently. 

Despite how much you knew you should be, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry that he’d held back this particular aspect of his shifter identity. Even knowing it, you didn’t feel like you truly understood what it meant to be Bucky’s mate. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, after everything he’d told you that night, you were a little tired of the revelations. 

It probably would’ve been better if things had gone according to Bucky’s plan. You’d have met him in your favorite coffee shop and slowly gotten to know him—the real him—and he’d have opened up to you when you were both ready. If things had gone that way, you would’ve been able to learn about him being a shifter and your mate at an easier pace.

Instead, you’d been thrust into all this shifter stuff, and Bucky had tried his best to not overwhelm you too much. You couldn’t fault him for that. In fact, you appreciated it. The night had been a lot, and you suddenly knew exactly what you needed from him.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you lay down on Bucky’s chest so your head rested on his shoulder. 

“Can you purr for me, alpha?” you asked in a small voice, craving the comfort of the rumbling sensation.

Bucky’s purr kicked to life an instant later, giving you exactly what you asked for. You let yourself sink into the comfort and pleasure his purring offered, allowing yourself to relax. His cock was still buried deep inside you, and even that felt good—it felt right.

“What else do you need, koshechka?” Bucky asked softly, concern in his tone. His hand stroked tentatively up and down your spine and you smiled into his chest, melting further into his chest. “Tell me, and I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you.”

“I think I want to follow the plan,” you said, realizing it was what you wanted only as you said the words. “I want to try things your way, the ‘normal’ way.” You said those final words a little wryly, but your tone was otherwise genuine. Turning your face up so you could catch Bucky’s eye, you let a little smirk flirt around the corner of your mouth. “After you fuck me.”

Bucky’s eyes heated as they dropped to your mouth, but his hands still felt uncertain on your hips. “Are you sure, koshechka?” His big hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek and your eyes fluttered closed at the comfort of the gesture. “I’d understand if you never wanted to see me again.”

At that, your eyes flew open and you glared at Bucky. “That is the last thing I want,” you spit out fiercely, surprised at how strongly you reacted to the idea of never seeing Bucky again. You took a moment, closing your eyes to gather yourself and opened them again to fix Bucky with a firm stare. “Tonight has been a lot, but I want to come on your cock, and then I wanna take the time to get to know you, to see how things go, to do things the normal way.”

A smirk curled the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “I thought we bypassed normal a year ago,” he commented, echoing your earlier words. 

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lean up and kiss the smirk off Bucky’s face, so that’s exactly what you did. 

He groaned into your kiss, his hands tightening on your hips and urging you to rock against him. You broke away from the kiss, unable to bite back the filthy groan that tumbled from your lips at the sensation of his cock shifting inside you.

You could feel the gentle drag of every barb on his cock, the dulled points clinging to your inner channel and making you moan loudly. Your body moved on its own, lifting up Bucky’s cock, needing to feel more of that sensation. Once only the head remained inside your warmth, you shoved yourself down, wringing a delighted screech from your lips while Bucky groaned ferociously. 

“Fuck, koshechka,” Bucky grunted, his big hands kneading your ass while you lifted up again and slammed back down. “Use me—use me for your pleasure.” His voice was breathless, and as you stared down at him, you watched his face contort with pleasure. 

You lifted up, planting your hands on his pecs and set a slow, hard pace, lifting yourself up slowly before slamming down hard on his cock, grinding into the base before doing it all over again. 

Before long, you were both panting and sweating, and your whines grew louder as your body begged more.

Bucky seemed to know exactly when you’d reached your limit of having control, and he wrapped his hands more tightly around your waist, holding you above him while he took over, drilling into your cunt from below. 

The bulge of his length and the barbs were unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and it was only a few breathless moments before you were teetering on the edge of your second release.

“Can I come, alpha?” you gasped on a whimpering whine. Your fingernails were digging into the plush padding on his stomach, pressing hard enough to feel the firm muscle beneath, delighting when his abs twitched at the same time as his cock inside you.

A purr began in Bucky’s chest and he caught your eye, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Does my sweet koshechka want my permission to come?” he purred, staring at you with lazy, half-lidded eyes while he pounded up into you. “Do you need your alpha’s command to come on my cock?” 

“Yes, alpha, please—please command me to come,” you whimpered, your whole body trembling with your need for release. But you found you truly needed him to say it, to tell you to come, before you could do so. You didn’t know if that was a shifter thing, a mate thing or a you and Bucky thing, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Bucky fucked you harder, thrusting up so hard that your tits were bouncing with the force. A growl tore through his chest, and you felt his pleasure in the sound, knowing instinctively that he was pleased with the sight of you bouncing on his cock. 

“Come, koshechka—come all over your alpha’s fat cock,” he snarled, just before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and dragging you down to his chest. His mouth found the curve of your neck, where your throat met your shoulder, and he bit down, his teeth sinking deep into your skin. 

You came with a yowling scream, the slight sting of pain from Bucky’s blunt teeth mixing with the blistering pleasure of his cock until you were swept away in a torrent of ecstasy. You shattered apart on his cock, your pussy pulsing and gripping him hard, dragging him over the edge after you.

Bucky came with a groan that was half-muffled against your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled his hot seed deep in your belly. His moan morphed into a stuttering purr as he fucked you through the aftershocks of both your releases, until you collapsed on top of him with a satisfied exhale.

One of Bucky’s hands smoothed up and down your spine comfortingly while the other was still wrapped around the back of your neck. He finally pulled away from your shoulder, his tongue lapping at the deep indents he’d left in your skin. 

Strangely, some part of you was disappointed that his teeth hadn’t broken skin. But the feeling of his tongue on the mark he’d left, his cock still throbbing in your pussy, and his hand stroking you softly were all too good to focus on that twinge of disappointment. You pushed it aside and promised yourself you’d ask Bucky about it later. 

Exhaustion was tugging at the edges of your consciousness and you could feel yourself slipping back to sleep. It didn’t help that Bucky dragged the blankets back over your cooling bodies, wrapping you up in a warmth that felt like it sank deep into your bones and curled closely around your heart. 

“Rest, koshechka,” Bucky urged, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ll see you at your coffee shop later—I’ll be the one wearing clothes.”

You would’ve laughed, but you were already falling back to sleep.

On the morning of Halloween, you woke with a pleasant tingling between your thighs, and an excessive amount of wetness trickling from your slit. You got up and cleaned yourself up, not too surprised that your Russian Blue didn’t make an appearance as you got ready for the day. 

Your nighttime escapades felt too real for you to even begin to try to convince yourself it was a dream, though you did find yourself missing the soft pitter-patter of your pet’s feet padding across your apartment. You paused in the middle of your living room, feeling a little bit of loneliness creep in as you listened and heard no sign of life in your home.

Shaking your head, you reminded yourself that you weren’t going to be lonely without Bucky the cat—because Bucky the man was waiting for you. 

With that thought in your head, you nearly skipped down the street to your regular coffee shop. 

It was a cute little storefront nestled in between a hair salon and a plant store. The employees had put up decorations for Halloween, including a string of paper bats and little pumpkins in the windows. Inside, there were even more fall decorations, and the scent of coffee was cut with cinnamon and nutmeg.

You scanned the tables, but didn’t see Bucky, so you got in line to order. A moment later, you felt a presence behind you and you somehow knew it was him, even before his scent washed over you and his hand settled gently against your lower back as he came to stand beside you. 

“Good morning, koshechka,” he murmured, ducking to press a kiss to your cheek. 

You gave him a quick once-over, seeing that he cleaned up nice in the light of day, wearing a soft sweater, dark jeans and a warm-looking leather jacket. His breath smelled minty like he’d brushed his teeth, and his skin felt clean and fresh, as if he’d showered. But he’d kept the scruff on his face, and you couldn’t help but be glad for it as it tickled your cheek, a smile curving your lips. 

“Good morning, Bucky,” you said, staring up at him, a little surprised at how easy it seemed to be to fall into step beside him as the line moved forward.

Still, you couldn’t seem to drag your eyes away from his face. He truly was the most handsome man you’d ever seen, and you let your eyes roam greedily over the planes of his face that were so much easier to see in the daylight. You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of looking at Bucky’s face.

“Can I buy you a coffee?” Bucky asked, dragging you from your thoughts. His hand was moving soothingly in a small circle on your lower back, and you could feel the warmth of him even through your jacket.

“Yes, please,” you said sweetly. 

When it was your turn to order, you got a hot latte, while Bucky got a chai. He helped you out of your coat and pulled out a chair for you at one of the small tables, then retrieved your latte from the counter before he settled into the seat across from you. 

The barista had drawn a ghost with the foam on top of your drink and you smiled down at it, wrapping your cold fingers around the warm cup as you considered where to start.

“So,” you began, lifting your eyes to Bucky—taking in the soft sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, before catching his eye. A smirk curved your lips. “Tell me about yourself.”

A slow, answering smile curled the edges of Bucky’s mouth and he leaned forward, planting his arms on the table in a mirror of your posture. When he spoke, his voice was low, a delicious gruffness to it that tingled all the way through you, down to the tips of your toes.

“Well, I’ve had a bit of an unusual life,” he began, catching your eye and holding your gaze with his own sparkling blues. “I served in the army with my best friend, came back, didn’t really know what to do with myself—until I met a pretty girl who took me in and showed me what it’s like to be loved.”

Your heart thumped excitedly in your chest at Bucky’s final word even as your breath lodged in your throat. “Oh really?” you asked softly, swallowing thickly before you continued. “That sounds like an interesting story.” 

“Mm, I’ll say,” Bucky said, his eyes roving hungrily over your face. After a beat of silence, he seemed to have a thought, leaning in further and dropping his voice lower. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” you said on an exhale, mesmerized by the affection swirling in Bucky’s eyes and the way his mouth curved at the edges when he smiled.

“I’m excited to show her what it’s like to be loved by me,” Bucky murmured. 

His words had the same effect as his purr, making you melt as you smiled across the table at him. “I’m excited for that, too,” you admitted softly. 

Bucky’s smile widened, and your eyes dropped to his mouth. You wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment, but you also wanted to stick to his plan to take things slow.

Taking a deep breath, you sat back from the table, giving yourself some space away from the intoxicatingly wild scent of Bucky and lifted your cup to your mouth. You hummed in delight at the taste of the drink, closing your eyes as you savored the rich flavor. 

A choked sound came from across the table and you opened your eyes to see heat simmering in Bucky’s eyes. 

“Are you trying to torture me, koshechka?” he asked in a low rumble. 

You snickered and hid a smirk behind your cup before taking another sip and setting it down on the table. Tossing your head, you looked up at Bucky from under your lashes. 

“It’s the least you deserve for the little Halloween trick you played on me,” you teased. You slid your tongue along your lower lip, licking up the last bit of your coffee, smirking when Bucky groaned quietly. 

“If I behave, d’you think I’ll get a little Halloween treat?” Bucky asked, waggling his brows so suggestively, you tipped your head back with a laugh. 

“We’ll see,” you said with what you hoped was an enigmatic smile. 

Leaning across the table, Bucky ran his thumb over the corner of  your mouth and when he pulled away, you saw a little bit of foam on his finger. He popped it into his mouth, making your eyes narrow on the way his tongue flicked against the pad of his thumb, your core tightening as you remembered the things that tongue had done to you the night before.

“I’ll take whatever you want to give, koshechka,” Bucky murmured, his tone thick with emotion and desire, and you knew he was talking about more than just your body. His piercing eyes pinned you with an intense stare, and you held his gaze determinedly. 

The tension eased when Bucky looked away, his hand reaching across the table, palm up, waiting patiently for you. After a brief moment of hesitation, you slid your fingers into his palm, and your hands folded together. Warmth spread through your body and curled up deep in your heart as Bucky caught your eye again, both of you smiling at each other.

For the next hour, you sat at that little table in your favorite coffee shop with Bucky, getting to know him and learning more about his life. You discovered he had a best friend named Steve Rogers who’d been watching his apartment for the last year while he’d been living with you. He was the friend Bucky had served in the army with and he told you plenty of stories from their childhood. 

At the end of your date, Bucky gave you his phone number, and texted you before you’d even gotten home to plan another outing. All day, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, and you couldn’t help your thoughts from wandering back to your Russian Blue shifter. 

Bucky had given you a Halloween trick and a Halloween treat, and he was giving you the space you needed to wrap your head around everything. Still, you couldn’t wait to see him again, to continue getting to know him, and to learn everything there was to know about him and what he was.

Over the months that followed Halloween, you and Bucky went on plenty of dates, taking things slow. But it wasn’t too long before you dragged him back to your apartment, needing to feel him again—all of him. Like he’d wanted, you slept in his shirt that night, and he purred happily, telling you how much it meant to him for you to smell like him. 

That night, you fell asleep curled up in Bucky’s arms the way he’d slept for so many nights when you’d thought he was only a cat. And it was the first night of many that you slept in your bed together with Bucky in his human form.

Eventually, Bucky officially moved in, and you learned what it meant to be mated to a shifter, though Bucky didn’t give you your mating bite until you’d been dating for a few years. He’d said he wanted to do things the normal way, and apparently that was normal for shifters, even though you were practically begging him to mate you by the time he obliged.

Although your relationship with Bucky began in a very strange way, you took the time together to truly get to know each other. He showed remorse for hiding from you for so long and worked to gain your trust. By the time the two of you were mated, you knew he was the one for you. 

James Bucky Barnes was the one you would’ve chosen even if you hadn’t woken up to him sleeping naked in your bed on that fateful Halloween night.

halloween fics masterlist