#fluffy bucky barnes x y/n
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parkers-gal · 1 month ago
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promise J.B.
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summary: bucky is protective over reader, the new lab assistant and resident doctor at the compound
wc: 2k
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
a/n: no warnings (lmk if i missed anything). barely proof read. requests are open!
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the first time he met you, he was expecting dr. cho’s usual lab assistant. it was meant to be a brief check in after his latest mission with sam, just a minor tweak to a piece of tech on his uniform. 
“hey, do you thin-” bucky strides in to dr. miller’s office, full tactical suit still on. he’d came straight from the quinjet, but glancing up from his arm holster he notices that dr. miller’s office is now replaced by your office. 
you look up from your lab report, a pile of open wires laying beside it as you twiddle with the machinery. “oh, i’m sorry. i think dr. banner forgot to notify you: dr. miller transferred to shield co-op missions. i’m his replacement.” you wipe the sweat from your hand onto your white lab coat and stand from your chair. “i’m y/n.”
bucky reads the nametag on your labcoat, dr. l/n. “oh.” his eyes move from the tag to your eyes. “sorry.” 
your smile immediately shifts whatever emotions he just had about the situation. your expression is soft and for a moment, bucky thinks you’re too innocent to be working in a business surrounded by violence. it provokes something deep in his stomach, something he can’t quite place.
“i’d be happy to assist you with whatever you need, though!” you smile again, this one giving bucky an even warmer feeling through his chest. “i already read all of dr. miller’s previous lab reports, and i’m just as good with needles as i am with technology.” you shift your head towards the mutilated hardware on your desk, then smile back at bucky.
he almost chuckles. almost. instead, he adorns a smirk, so subtle you might not have caught it had you not been staring at him, waiting for a reply. hesitantly, he steps forward, holding his arm out to show you what he needs changed.
that was four months ago. now, bucky looks for any excuse to head to your office, whether it be a slightly twisted wrist, a broken button on his suit, or even a question about a new weapon for his next mission. 
“what can i do for you today, james?” your back is turned to him. you’re busy fiddling with a microscope, but bucky can hear the smile on your face.
“bucky,” he corrects. “are you going to tony’s gala this saturday?”
you stop squinting and stand upright, turning to face him. you have a quizzical look on your face. “do doctors usually go to those sorts of things?”
bucky shrugs. “i think dr. cho has before.”
you hum, turning back to the microscope. “well, i do need to catch up with natasha…” you turn the knob for the lens. “is that why you came to see me?”
he pauses. you hear his feet shuffling and smile to yourself. “i just wanted to ask about… my… belt.”
you suppress a laugh and face him again “really?” you grin. “your belt?”
he hums, a tint spreading on his cheeks. 
“well, i haven’t had lunch yet, if you would like to get something for us, we can talk about your belt during my break.”
his head perks up at that. “okay, i’ll be back in twenty.”
he’s out of the room so quick and it makes you smile again. as you turn back to the microscope, somebody else enters.
“back alread- oh.” 
john walker. 
you have never been particularly fond of him, especially after a heated argument he had with sam and steve a couple months back. he works for shield, but sometimes they send him to the avenger’s compound to retrieve specific types of upgrades or get intel about an overlapping mission. 
“aw, don’t seem too disappointed, sweets.” he smiles, the image disgusting you. 
you walk away from the microscope towards a centrifuge sitting on the opposite counter. 
“what can i help you with?”
“what, i come all this way and i can’t just talk to you?”
you bite your lip. “i’m afraid i don’t understand.”
he laughs. “i want to get to know you.”
“like right now?”
“right now… over dinner…” he smiles again, the same disgusting one. “whichever you prefer.”
unsure on how to reply, you turn back to the machine. “i don’t know if that’s appropriate.”
“but it’s okay if you do it with bucky?”
“what about me?” bucky steps through the door with a bag of food in one hand. once noticing john, his jaw clicks. “what are you doing here?”
“just wanted to talk to the lady, that’s all.” he shrugs his shoulders. “is that against the law?”
“it is if she doesn’t want that.”
your gaze shifts to bucky. his blue eyes are piercing, and his gaze is colder than any he’s ever given you. you sense the tension growing the longer he stares at john. 
john interrupts the silence. “what’s the issue, man?” he steps towards bucky. it’s a small step, but it has bucky rigid. “it’s not like she’s taken. she’s free game.”
bucky scoffs. “if you speak about women like they’re prizes to win then you don’t deserve to speak to them.”
your heart flutters. after all he’s been through, bucky still chooses to be an amazing guy. your admiration for him only grows. 
“nobody said anything about that.” john raises his hands in surrender. “don’t get jealous… it’s not like she’s yours…”
his jaw clenches again. you can see his hands are balled into fists at his side. faintly, you hear the whirring of the metal plates in his arm. 
“i think you should leave.”
bucky steps aside, clearing a space for john to walk out the door. reluctantly, he leaves, but not before sparing you another glance and whispering a “call me.”
when he’s finally left the room, you exhale, glancing back to bucky and his tense shoulders. 
“thank you… for that.”
he blinks. his eyes finally find you and he blinks away the tension. 
“of course. you shouldn’t have to put up with that, especially in your place of work.”
you nod and a shy smile takes over your face. you move a strand of hair to behind your ear and turn back to the machine so bucky doesn’t notice your face. he does anyway.
“so, lunch?”
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saturday evening rolls around and, after having double checked with tony and natasha about the validity of your invitation, you get dressed for the gala. the dress fits your form and drapes down to just below your knees. you pair it with a simple pair of heels and your favorite necklace. 
you hope bucky likes it.
stop. that’s inappropriate. we’re work colleagues. he would’ve helped out any girl that needed it, he-
oh fuck.
you notice him immediately. he’s sat at the bar talking to steve, legs draped off the bar seat, thighs thick even in his dress pants. his long hair is neatly swept back, and the glass of bourbon in his metal hand clinks from the ice. 
natasha spots you first. she was just by the entrance, and she immediately greets you.
“how are you?”
you smile at her, happy to be with her after having not had the chance lately. “good, busy in the lab as always.”
she chuckles understandingly. “seems like tony has everyone working overtime.”
she goes on about one thing or another, but at some point you tune her out because bucky has finally noticed you. you can tell he’s tuned steve out too. 
he can’t stop staring. granted, he always stares at everyone, but the way he looks at you differs from that so much. it has your knees weak and you can feel your heart pound a little harder in your chest. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and the faintest smirk appears on his face.
steve turns around to see what his best friend is staring at. noticing you, he leans his head back at the sudden enlightenment and faces bucky. he speaks lowly, “why don’t you ask her out?”
bucky jerks his head towards steve. “what?” he’s defensive at having just been caught. “why would i do that?”
steve rolls his eyes. “because visiting her office everyday is totally normal…” his tone is laced with sarcasm.
you’ve been spending too much time with sam.
“shut up.”
“so you don’t like her, then?”
“i-” bucky huffs. “i never said that.”
“well, i’d act fast.”
his brows furrow. “Why?”
steve points towards you and bucky’s gaze shifts from his best friend to you. there, john walker attempts to offer you a drink, and bucky can tell even from his distant spot at the bar that you’re smiling to be polite.
he doesn’t reply to steve, abandoning his drink and his friend at the bar as he makes his way over to you. 
“can i help you?”
john has to turn to look at bucky, his smile dropping. you can tell he’s aggravated by the presence of the former winter soldier.
“no, i think we’re good.” he doesn’t even attempt to make his smile look genuine.
“i don’t think we are.” bucky steps closer to you. his head dips down, lips close to your ear as he speaks in a low whisper. “you okay, peaches?”
you smile, giddy at the sudden pet name. you nod gently, grateful for bucky’s care, and try not to bite your lip from the interaction. 
“why don’t you go somewhere else?” bucky’s gentle tone is replaced with a stoic one, his annoyance for john returning.
“why can’t i just talk to the girl?” he looks at you expecting your defense.
bucky’s left hand wraps around your waist. his fingers rub your side softly, gracing your hip. your stomach flips in a fit of butterflies. the sudden act of affection has your knees buckling. you want him to pull you closer in case you collapse.
“she’s not interested.” 
john’s eyes widen slightly and he backs away, muttering something under his breath. you feel bucky’s metal fingers squeeze your side slightly. he turns to look at you. 
“i’m sorry about him.”
you can barely hold eye contact. “it’s not your fault.” a sudden boost in courage has you pulling your hand up to smooth out the lapel of his suit. “besides, you’re my hero.”
his eyes flicker with appreciation at having been called that. “yeah?”
you hum in agreement. his other hand reaches towards your face, tracing the hair that sits behind your ear, pinned up in the updo you’ve done for the gala. another stomach flip.
“in that case, does your hero get any reward?” he has a playful smirk, his tone light.
“i suppose…” you smile back. “got anything in mind?”
he pulls you until you're facing him directly. his other hand sits at your waist, too. now you can’t look away, forced to look into his eyes as he undresses you with them. he hums as if the answer sits on his tongue. his metal hand pulls you forward, forcing you to take a step closer to him. his flesh hand moves from your waist to your cheek, nose brushing against yours, delicate, like a dance. his breath fans against your face and your eyelids flutter shut. you exhale, a bundle of nerves leaving too.
his lips ghost against yours, waiting to see if you’d pull back or say you’re crossing a line. you don’t dare stop him. you feel his lips curve slightly; he’s smirking against you. before it grows anymore, his lips connect with yours, warm and supple and tender. he kisses you like every second is a promise, like he wants the world to know you’ll never be anyone else’s.
and now, you know it’s a promise he’ll never break. 
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m4rv3l-girl · 13 days ago
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Slowly…
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Bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while, but have yet to explore anything more intimate than making out like teenagers. Maybe things will change when Bucky finally faces his fears.
Warnings: smut. Oral f!recieving. Protected p in v sex. Slight fear of intimacy. Touch starved Bucky?
The hum of the Stark Tower HVAC system was basically white noise.
Bucky Barnes sat sprawled across the couch, one arm looped loosely around Y/N’s shoulders, the other cradling a steaming mug of chamomile tea. Both of them contently sleepy. The windows stretched tall across the living room wall, casting gold-tinged light from the setting sun over the exposed brick and sleek furniture, remnants of Tony’s compulsive over-design.
Y/N, nestled into Bucky’s side with a blanket tugged over both of their legs, sighed softly. Her head was tucked perfectly beneath his chin, like it belonged there. Bucky liked that. He liked that a lot more than he’d ever admit aloud. Especially since Sam would absolutely never let him live it down if he caught wind of Bucky Barnes being the little spoon. Again.
“You know,” Y/N said, voice low and thoughtful, “you’re actually not as terrifying as everyone makes you out to be.”
Bucky huffed a laugh, lifting his mug in mock salute. “Thanks, doll. I’ll make sure to update my LinkedIn.”
She laughed against his chest, the sound vibrating into his sternum and tugging a rare, genuine smile from him. “No, seriously. You’re... sweet. You hold the door open. You bring me coffee just the way I like it. You’re weirdly obsessed with The Great British Bake Off.”
“I plead the Fifth.”
“Oh, come on. You cried when Rahul won.”
He groaned, tilting his head back against the couch and covering his face with the vibranium hand. “I didn’t cry. I just - had feelings. That’s normal. Rahul is a very talented man.”
“You’re soft.”
“I’m six feet tall and made of war crimes.”
She snorted. “You’re my soft war crime.”
“Jesus Christ.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The kind that only came after months of slow trust-building, of soft confessions over late-night tea, of tentative hand-holding and the quiet awe in Bucky’s eyes when she didn’t flinch away from the cold press of metal fingers. It wasn’t perfect, Bucky still had nights where he woke up gasping, sweat-soaked and angry at ghosts only he could see, but Y/N never left. Never treated him like he was broken or dangerous. Just… human.
He hadn’t realized how much he missed being seen as human until she came along.
“You ever think about…” Y/N began, then paused, fingers tracing idle shapes along his thigh. “Us. Like, going further?”
Bucky blinked, the words taking a second to register through the sleepy haze.
“Further?”
She tilted her head to glance up at him, cheeks flushed. “Yeah. Like… more than just kissing on your couch and pretending we don’t both want more.”
Oh.
Bucky’s breath hitched, but not from discomfort. Not exactly. More like the entire world had suddenly gone still and very, very focused.
He’d thought about it. Of course he had. He was a hundred and six years old, not dead.
But there was always a wall. Not one she had built. Y/N had never rushed him, but one he’d carried with him since Hydra carved up his mind like Thanksgiving turkey. Intimacy meant vulnerability. And vulnerability had always gotten him hurt or used.
“I do think about it,” he said finally, voice soft. “All the time, actually.”
Y/N shifted slightly, giving him room to see her expression. She looked open. Patient. Like she wasn’t expecting anything except honesty. That helped. That grounded him.
“But I also think about messing it up,” he admitted. “I think about what if I freeze up? Or what if I have some flashback in the middle of it and ruin everything?”
“You wouldn’t ruin anything,” she said immediately. “You could never ruin this.”
He wanted to believe her. Hell, part of him already did. But old instincts didn’t die easily. He reached for her hand with his metal one, letting their fingers twine together. That felt real. Solid.
“I guess I just need to know you’re okay with taking it slow. That you don’t feel like you’re waiting for me to turn into someone else.”
Y/N’s smile was soft and fierce all at once. “Bucky, I didn’t fall for the Winter Soldier. I fell for the guy who leaves sticky notes on the fridge reminding me to drink water. Who calls Sam ‘bird brain’ like it’s a love language. Who watched all three Lord of the Rings movies with me even though he thought Frodo should’ve just used the eagles.”
“Don’t tell me I was wrong.”
She laughed, then leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay with slow. I’m okay with whatever pace you want. I’m here because I want you.”
Bucky let out a slow breath, tension he hadn’t realized he was holding bleeding from his shoulders. “Okay,” he murmured. “Then yeah. Maybe we take that step. Sometime soon.”
A beat.
The quiet stretched out like a warm blanket, thick with anticipation. Bucky’s thumb traced the line of her knuckles, and the room felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He knew he could say no. He knew she’d understand. But the way she said it - so gentle, so earnest - he couldn’t find the words to refuse.
“Soon,” she murmured, reading the hesitation in his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready. I just - I want you to know that I’m here. That I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”
Bucky nodded, his throat tight with emotions he hadn’t let himself feel in so long. It was strange, this feeling of safety, of belonging. It didn’t sit easily with him, but it was growing more familiar with every beat of her heart against his side. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.
“You make it easier, doll,” he said finally. “You make a lot of things easier.”
Y/N leaned into him, her arm curling around his waist. Her hair smelled faintly of coconut shampoo and mint toothpaste. The scent was comforting, like home.
“I’ll always be here for you, you know that,” she whispered, her breath warm against his neck. “For all the hard parts. And the easy ones too. For the baking shows and the bad jokes and the quiet nights just like this one. I’m all in, Bucky. Whatever it takes to help you feel whole again.”
The weight of her words settled into his chest, nestling in alongside his beating heart. It was a heavy burden, but somehow, with her, it felt lighter.
They watched the light change outside the window, the sky deepening into shades of purple and pink. The sounds of the city grew distant, swallowed up by their shared warmth. Bucky’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she curled into him, her hand coming to rest over his heart.
It was a promise. A silent vow.
He took a sip of his now lukewarm tea and sighed, the warmth of her against him a stark contrast to the cold metal of his arm. It was moments like these that made him feel alive, made him realize that maybe, just maybe, he could have a life beyond the shadows of his past.
“What’s the first thing you’d wanna do?” he asked, turning to look at her. Her eyes searched his, looking for any signs of doubt or fear. But all she’d find was the truth. The reality was that, at present, their sex life was non-existent.
Y/N thought for a moment, her expression softening into a smile. “I don’t mind….what would you want to do..?” She didn’t want to commit to something that he wasn’t comfortable with.
Bucky considered this.
"I just want to be with you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I want to hold you, and kiss you, and just… explore. Nothing crazy, just… us. Getting to know each other that way."
Her smile grew, lighting up the room even as the shadows grew longer. "That sounds perfect," she whispered.
The air was thick with a tension that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with desire. He could feel the pulse of her heart beneath her palm, and he knew she felt his too, a steady rhythm that grew stronger with every breath they took together.
They sat for a while longer, just watching the day turn to night. Bucky's mind raced with the possibilities of what this could mean for them, but he forced himself to stay present, to enjoy the simplicity of their entwined fingers and the warmth of her body.
Eventually, Y/N sat up, her hand slipping away from his heart to rest on his cheek. She turned to face him, her eyes searching his, looking for any trace of doubt. But all she found was a man who was ready to take the next step.
“Okay,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s go slow. We’ll figure it out together. No pressure, just us getting to know each other more intimately. I’m here, Bucky. We’re in this together, remember?”
Bucky nodded, his pulse quickening at the thought of what lay ahead. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to be this open with someone, to let go of the fear that had become second nature. But with her, it felt possible.
They stood up, and he set the mug of tea down on the side table with a gentle clink. Y/N reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She led him to the bedroom, her movements sure and unhurried.
The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn just enough to allow the fading light to cast a soft glow over the bed. Bucky felt his heart rate spike as she turned to face him, her gaze never wavering from his own. She stepped closer, her hand sliding up to his chest, then around to his neck.
Her touch was tentative at first, a gentle question. But as Bucky leaned into it, she grew bolder, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her thumb brushing against his lower lip. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, and she leaned in to capture his mouth in a kiss that was sweet and full of promise.
Her other hand slid down his side, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Bucky’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, the heat between them growing with every second. The kiss deepened, and he felt the first stirrings of something he’d almost forgotten - desire, untainted by fear or duty.
When they broke apart, panting slightly, Bucky opened his eyes to find her smiling up at him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her movements slow and deliberate. He watched as she lifted it over her head, revealing the soft curves of her body.
He took a deep breath, his metal hand hovering over her bare skin for a moment before he let it rest gently on her waist.
Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for the answer to the unspoken question. Bucky nodded, his decision made.
They moved in unison, Bucky helping her to remove the rest of her clothing, his movements slow and careful, as if handling something fragile and precious. Each piece of clothing that fell away revealed more of her, and with it, a part of her soul that he hadn't seen before. Her trust in him was palpable, a silent demand that he not break her. And he knew, with a sudden fierceness, that he never would.
Her skin was warm under his touch, and she shivered as he traced the outline of her collarbone with his thumb. He felt his own heart racing, a thunderous beat that echoed in his ears.
They lay down on the bed, the mattress giving slightly under their combined weight.
Her eyes never left his, the same gentle expression on her face that had been there since the moment she’d brought it up. He felt the pressure of her hand, the softness of her skin, and the way her breath hitched as he kissed her again, his metal fingers brushing against the softness of her stomach. It was a strange sensation, this mix of cold and warm, of hard and soft, of past and present.
Bucky’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but he pushed them aside, focusing only on the here and now. He didn’t want to think about the past, didn’t want to ruin this moment with the specter of his former life. This was about them, about what they were choosing to build together.
He leaned over her, pressing tender kisses along her neck and collarbone, feeling the thrum of her pulse beneath his lips. Her skin was like silk, and her scent was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and vanilla that he’d come to associate with home. Her breathy sighs were music to his ears, each one a silent encouragement to explore further.
Her fingers danced over his shoulders, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she guided him closer, urging him to explore. His heart hammered in his chest, a reminder of the life he had reclaimed, the humanity he had fought to keep.
Their kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if they were both trying to convey the depth of their feelings without words. Bucky’s hand traveled up her side, feeling the curve of her hip, the softness of her skin, the warmth that emanated from her core. He was acutely aware of every touch, every breath, the way she arched into his mouth when he kissed her just right. It was as if he was mapping out a new territory, one that was uncharted and full of wonder.
The room was filled with the sound of their mingled breaths, the rustle of fabric, the quiet sighs that escaped their lips. Y/N’s hand slipped under his shirt, her fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. He stilled for a moment, waiting, but she didn’t pull away.
Bucky felt something unlock inside of him, a door that had been sealed shut for so long he’d almost forgotten it was there. It was a rush of sensation, of need, that made his head spin and his heart race. He kissed her again, harder this time, his hand sliding down to the small of her back, pressing her closer.
Y/N’s legs parted, inviting him in, and Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never been this intimate with someone who knew all of him, who had seen the darkest corners of his soul and chosen to stay. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
He took a moment to breathe, to steady himself. He didn’t want to rush this, didn’t want to scare her away with his intensity. But when he pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire, matching the pulse in his veins. She didn’t look scared. She looked hungry.
They moved together in a dance that was both new and familiar, their bodies speaking a language that didn’t require words. He felt the heat of her skin, the softness of her curves, the way she molded against him as if they’d been made for this. It was a revelation, a reminder that he was more than the sum of his parts.
Bucky’s hand slid up her thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of her underwear. He felt her shiver and knew that she was just as ready as he was. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. This was it. The moment he’d feared and craved in equal measure. But with her, it didn’t feel scary. It felt right.
Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, her eyes never leaving his. He raised his arms, letting her pull it off. The cool air of the room kissed his bare skin, making him shiver. She traced the lines of his abs with her fingertips, her eyes taking in every inch of him with a mix of awe and affection.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice a warm caress against his ear.
Bucky felt a blush creep up his cheeks, a rare and welcome sensation. He’d never been one for compliments, but coming from her, it felt like the most profound truth he’d ever heard. He kissed her again, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm.
They moved together, exploring each other with gentle touches and whispered sighs. Bucky’s mind was a blur of sensation, each new discovery a revelation. The way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she made him feel. It was like coming home after a long, cold war, finding warmth in the most unexpected of places.
He felt her hand on the elastic of his sweatpants, and he stilled for a moment. This was the part that had always been a minefield before. But she didn’t look up at him with fear or hesitation. Just love. So he let her continue, his breath catching in his throat as she touched him, skin to skin.
Y/N’s hand was warm and sure, and Bucky couldn’t help but gasp as she touched him, her thumb rubbing against the sensitive skin just beneath the waistband. The fabric was the last barrier between them, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.
With a trembling hand, Bucky reached down to help her, his heart racing as he pushed his pants down. The coolness of the air against his skin was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, and he watched as she took him in, her eyes wide and filled with a hunger that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t been in decades.
They kissed again, a kiss that was more than just a meeting of lips, it was a declaration of trust, of love, of the shared hope that this could be the start of something beautiful. He felt her hand slide down, her fingertips dancing against his skin, until she reached the bulge in his boxers, and he let out a soft groan that seemed to resonate through the very core of his being.
Her hand was tentative at first, exploring his hardness with gentle strokes. But as Bucky’s grip tightened on the sheets and his breathing grew ragged, she grew bolder. Her touch was a whispered promise of what was to come, a gentle reminder that she was here for him, that he wasn’t alone.
He slid his hand down to cover hers, their fingers intertwining as they found a rhythm that sent shockwaves through his body. The warmth of her hand, the softness of her skin, the way she looked at him - it was almost too much to handle. But he didn’t pull away. He leaned into it, craving more.
With a tremble, Bucky reached for the clasp of her bra, his metal digits fumbling slightly. But she was patient, smiling up at him as he finally managed to free her from the garment. Her breasts were perfect in his eyes, the soft mounds fitting perfectly into his palms. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, watching as they pebbled beneath his touch, and she gasped into his mouth. The sensation of skin against skin was electric, sending currents of pleasure through him that he hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like he’d feared. It was gentle, it was kind, it was everything he’d hoped for.
He broke the kiss to kiss his way down her neck, her chest, her stomach. He took his time, savoring each new inch of her that was revealed to him. Y/N’s breath hitched as his mouth reached the apex of her thighs, his tongue tracing a line along her inner thigh before dipping closer to where she was wet and waiting for him. He felt a small twist of doubt and self consciousness, he hadn’t actually done this since the 40s.
Her legs fell open to encourage him, and Bucky took a moment to breathe her in, to appreciate the trust she was giving him.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She assured. He kissed her gently, his tongue teasing against her slit, her taste a rich mix of sweetness and desire. Y/N’s body arched off the bed, and she let out a soft moan, her hand sliding into his hair to guide him, to show him just how she liked it.
Bucky took his cues from her, his touch gentle and explorative. He’d never been with someone who knew the extent of his past, who had seen the monster he’d been made into. But here she was, her body open to him, welcoming him in. Her thighs trembled around his head as he worked his way down. His tongue found the spot that made her gasp. She was wet, slick against his mouth and he groaned, his cock pulsing with every soft whimper she made.
He could feel the tension coiling in her, tightening like a spring. Her hips began to move in time with his strokes, her breath coming in short and sharp gasps. He didn’t know how to do this, not really. But he knew he wanted to make her feel good. So he listened to her body, her sounds, her whispers of need. He focused on her reactions, learning what she liked, what made her squirm, what made her moan.
Small, quick flicks of his tongue over her clit seemed to send her reeling.
Y/N’s hands tightened in his hair as he worked her over, her body shaking with the force of her restrained pleasure. He could feel it building, the way she moved against his mouth, her legs tightening around his head, her breaths turning to pants. Her nails scraped against his scalp, a delicious pain that only served to drive him on, to make him want more, to make her feel more.
And then she was coming, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, her muscles clenching around his tongue. Bucky felt a surge of pride, of accomplishment, of pure, unadulterated joy.
He pulled back, kissing his way back up her body, feeling her pulse throb against his lips. She was beautiful, so beautiful, laid out before him like this. “Bucky,” she breathed, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with pleasure. He leaned over her, his forehead touching hers. “You’re sure?” he whispered. She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Bucky reached for the bedside drawer, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled out a condom. He’d had them there for months, hopeful and terrified, but they’d remained untouched. The foil packet crinkled in the quiet room, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the wake of their shared intimacy. Y/N watched him, her eyes never leaving his face, her trust in him unwavering. He rolled it on, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest, the echoes of fear that had haunted his every intimate moment. But as he positioned himself over her, her legs wrapping around his waist, he knew he could do this. For her, with her, he could overcome his worries.
He pushed inside her, slowly.
The world outside the window had gone dark, but the room was bathed in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Her eyes were wide, watching him with a mix of excitement and concern, and he knew he had to get this right. For her, for them. Her heat enveloped him, and he felt his own walls crumbling, the last of his barriers falling away. He’d never felt this connected to anyone before, not like this. It was as if they were two lost pieces of a puzzle finally finding their place.
Their movements grew more frantic as the passion built, their kisses deep and desperate. Bucky felt the ghosts of his past trying to claw their way back in, but he pushed them away, focusing solely on the woman beneath him. Her nails dug into his back, her legs tightening around him as she matched his rhythm, urging him on.
The sounds of their bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of sighs and gasps and moans. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, each kiss a promise to keep her safe. Bucky’s heart thudded in his chest, a drumline of hope and desire. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like the horrors he’d anticipated. It was raw and real and everything he’d ever dreamed of.
Her nails scored down his back as she arched up to meet him, her breaths growing shallower, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. Bucky felt the tension in her body, the way she tightened around him, the soft mewling noises that escaped her throat. He’d never felt so alive, so present in the moment. Each stroke was a promise, a declaration that he was here, with her, and nothing else mattered.
Their bodies moved in harmony, a dance that transcended the chaos of the world outside. His metal hand found hers, their fingers entwining as if to anchor themselves in the present. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his touch, the way she clung to him as if he were her lifeline. And maybe, in a way, he was.
The world narrowed down to just the two of them, the only sounds the slap of skin and the harsh pull of their breathing. Bucky’s eyebrow was furrowed. He watched her face, the way her lip got pulled between her teeth in concentration, the softness of her cheeks flushed with passion.
Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she neared the precipice again.
Their passion was palpable, a force that transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls.
Her eyes flew open, meeting his, and in that moment, something changed. He saw her, not just the woman he desired, but the person who had seen his darkest moments and chosen to love him regardless. And she saw him, not as the damaged soldier, but as the man who had fought to survive and come back to life.
Their movements grew more deliberate. Bucky’s rhythm slowed, his strokes deepening, as if trying to etch himself into her very being. He felt her inner walls quiver, a sign that she was close, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. But he wanted to give her everything she needed, to show her just how much she meant to him.
Y/N’s breath was a pant on his skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He leaned in, pressing kisses along her jaw, her neck, the soft skin of her collarbone. They were both hurtling uncontrollably towards the edge…
Her body tensed around him, a silent plea, and Bucky knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. He thrust into her, feeling her nails dig into his back as she cried out his name, her body shattering into a thousand pieces. He watched her come undone, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure that sent him over the edge.
With a guttural groan, he followed her, his orgasm tearing through his muscles, leaving him trembling and spent. He collapsed onto her, his heart hammering against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. The warmth of her body was like a medicine to his soul, a gentle reminder that he was more than just a weapon, that he was loved.
They laid there for a few moments, their hearts beating in sync, the only sound in the room the gentle rustle of the blanket around them. Bucky felt the warmth of her skin, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, and the reality of what they had just shared settled heavily on him. It was a moment that had been months in the making, a moment where fear had been vanquished by love and trust.
He leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her. Her eyes were closed, a soft smile tugging at her lips. He couldn’t help but trace the curve of her cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the heated skin under his fingertips. He’d never felt more alive, more human, than he did in that moment.
“You okay?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a softness that made his chest ache. “More than okay,” she said, her voice a whisper.
He leaned down to kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her lips. Her hand slid up his chest, her touch featherlight and reverent. It was as if she knew just how much this meant to him, just how much of a milestone it was.
They lay there, tangled in the sheets, their bodies still slick with sweat. Bucky’s mind was racing, but in a good way. He’d done it. He’d faced his fears and come out the other side. And she was still here, her arm wrapped around his waist, her breathing evening out as she snuggled closer to him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice still rough from their earlier exertions. Y/N opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. “For what?” “For making it okay,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “For making me feel like I can do this. Like I’m not just some… some broken toy that nobody wants to play with anymore.”
Her eyes had a glassy pain in them. “Bucky, you’re so much more than that. You always have been. And I want to play with you.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
——————————————————————————————————
A small gift 🎁🫶 (We’re ignoring mistakes)
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the-winter-spider · 2 months ago
Text
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.”
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urdepressedslut · 2 years ago
Note
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+
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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.
to be added to a taglist
TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano
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imtryingbuck · 3 months ago
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You’re Perfect.
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~ 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
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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.
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Two days later Bucky saw Julie sporting a huge black eye and a busted lip. Curtsey of his loving girlfriend.
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Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77
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sparklefics · 2 years ago
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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]
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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.”
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delicatebarness · 11 months ago
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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
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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. 
---
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lokidokieokie · 2 years ago
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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...
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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.
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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 
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nykie-love-anime · 2 years ago
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Day 17 ~ Breakfast In Bed
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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.
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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
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geeky-politics-46 · 2 years ago
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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.
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moviegurl2002 · 1 month ago
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I love an insecure and clumsy reader! The whole thing is so cute!🥰
Falling first, Falling hard
pairings:avenger!bucky barnes × avenger!reader
Summary: The reader is a newbie to the team and is a nervous mess. On top of that she is falling hard for her metal armed teammate. Maybe just maybe, he may have fallen harder.
Word count: 1k+
Warnings and tags: reader insert, insecure reader, clumsy reader?, sweet bucky, he's down bad, cute fluff.
A/n: Two drabbles in one day?! I'm hustling.
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You had always thought unrequited love would feel like a knife to the chest, but in reality, it was more of a dull ache—persistent, lingering, and impossible to ignore.
Being the newest member of the Avengers was already overwhelming enough. You were constantly surrounded by people who had saved the world multiple times, and despite all your training, you couldn't shake the feeling that you didn't belong. That feeling only worsened when it came to Bucky Barnes.
Because how could someone like him ever look at you the way you looked at him? You weren’t Natasha, who moved like a shadow in the night. You weren’t Wanda, who could alter reality with a flick of her wrist. You were just… you. And Bucky? Bucky was Bucky. And that meant he was completely out of your league.
The first time you met Bucky, you had been so nervous that you'd nearly tripped over your own feet while shaking his hand. He had smirked, and you had wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Since then, things had only gotten worse.
Like the time you had walked into the gym, not realizing he was shirtless and dripping with sweat, and let out an embarrassing squeak before running away like a coward. Or the time you had been sparring with Sam and Bucky had walked in just as you got distracted—resulting in Sam flipping you onto your back with an obnoxious laugh.
Or, worst of all, the time you had tried to make conversation with him over breakfast and accidentally knocked your entire plate onto his lap. That one had been the worst. You had stammered out an apology, turning redder than a tomato, while he had simply chuckled and told you it was fine. Steve had given him a weird look after that, but you had been too busy internally screaming to notice.
It wasn’t that Bucky was mean. No, he was the opposite—patient, kind, always willing to offer you advice on the field. But that kindness only made it harder, because you were convinced that’s all it was. Kindness. If only you knew the truth.
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Bucky Barnes was a patient man. He had spent decades waiting for freedom, for redemption, for peace. But waiting for you to see what was right in front of you? That was torture.
Because Bucky had fallen first. And Bucky had fallen hard.
He had noticed you the moment you walked into the compound, wide-eyed and nervous, clutching your duffel bag like a lifeline. He had noticed the way you hesitated before speaking in meetings, always second-guessing yourself. The way you muttered under your breath when training didn’t go as planned. He had noticed the way you looked at him, too.
At first, he had thought he was imagining it. But then there were the stolen glances, the way your breath hitched when he got too close, the way you’d go completely red when he so much as smiled at you.
It was adorable. Painfully adorable.
But somewhere along the way, your crush had stopped being one-sided. Somewhere along the way, Bucky had found himself watching you just as much.
Noticing the way your nose scrunched up when you concentrated. The way your laughter was always the loudest in the common room. The way you always waited for him to return from missions, even if you pretended it was just a coincidence.
The way you never seemed to realize just how incredible you were. You thought you weren’t good enough. That much was obvious. But to Bucky, you were already more than enough. And now, he just had to make you see it.
You had been training in the gym, trying (and failing) to land a proper kick when you heard the door open.
"That was… somethin’," Bucky teased as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
You groaned. "Please don’t say anything."
Bucky smirked, walking over to you. "You’re overthinking it," he said, stepping behind you.
"Here, let me help." Your brain short-circuited when his hands gently settled on your waist, positioning you properly.
"Keep your balance," he murmured, his voice close to your ear.
You barely heard him over the sound of your own heart hammering in your chest. When you finally managed to execute the move properly, you turned to him, beaming.
"I did it!" Bucky smiled.
"Told ya." Your excitement faded slightly as you looked down.
"Still… I have a long way to go." Bucky frowned.
"You know, for someone as smart as you, you say a lot of dumb things." Your head snapped up.
"What?"
"You’re always puttin’ yourself down," he said, shaking his head.
"But you don’t see yourself the way I do." Your heart stuttered.
"The way you do?"
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Doll, have you really not noticed?"
"Noticed what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky sighed. "I like you," he admitted, eyes locked onto yours. "A lot."
Your brain froze. "You—what?"
Bucky chuckled. "I like you," he repeated. "And not just in a ‘teammate’ kinda way."
"But… but you’re you," you blurted out. "And I’m just—"
"You," he interrupted firmly.
"And that’s exactly why I like you." You stared at him, completely speechless.
"You think I didn’t notice?" he continued, stepping closer.
"The way you look at me? The way you get all flustered when I’m around?" Your face was on fire.
"Oh my god, stop this is so embarrassing." Bucky chuckled, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.
"It’s not embarrassing, sweetheart. It’s cute."
You swallowed. "You… really mean it?"
Bucky nodded. "I'm falling hard for you," he admitted softly. Your breath caught in your throat.
"And if you let me," he added, "I’d like to prove it to you."
For the first time in forever, the insecurity in your chest didn’t feel so heavy. Because Bucky Barnes had fallen for you. And maybe, just maybe, you were exactly where you were meant to be.
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parkers-gal · 1 month ago
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a taste J.B.
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pairing: mob!bucky x f!reader
warnings: hints to smut but no actual smut, minimal drinking
wc: 1.2k
summary: mob!bucky sees you at his club
⋆˚✶˚‧⋆。˚
bass vibrates through your chest. the club is practically bouncing, music so loud and lights so dim and flashing different colors, you can barely keep up with your friend. you met natasha last year when you went clubbing after losing your job. tonight you’re at a new place; she’d been pestering you to try out a new spot but you were wary with the club being so far from your apartment.
the new york nightlife was exhilarating, but only when you wanted it to be.
your dress is tight as you move your hips in rhythm to the music. the fabric rides up on your thighs, sitting just below your ass, threatening to expose the lace thong natasha convinced you to wear. once the song changes, you turn around and grab her hand, pulling her closer so she can hear you. 
“i’m getting another drink, want anything?”
she shakes her head, hips still swaying. she smirks, glancing past you to the man staring at you. clad in a dark suit, his jacket lays open and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. his eyes are locked on your movements, watching like he could do something, but won’t. 
“you’ve got an audience.”
craning your neck, you spot who she’s talking about. you scoff. “yeah, because it’s totally me he’s looking at.” you drop her hand, waving her off and weaving through the crowd. you’d lost sight of the man, but he didn’t lose you.
bucky sits at the bar, glass of unfinished whiskey in his hand while he talks to his right hand man. you appear next to him, seemingly unaware of his presence. when you fail to grab the attention of the bartender, you sigh and plop onto the barstool, arms crossing in slight annoyance.
bucky smirks. “need help with something, peaches?”
startled by the deep voice, you glance up, mouth slightly agape. since when was he sitting there?
he chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine straight to your core. “don’t tell me i’ve left you speechless already.”
you blink away the initial shock. “no, i-” you click your tongue. “i just want a drink.”
“yeah? hit me.” he stands from his seat. he strides beside you, aiming for the hatch.
your brows furrow, “you can’t go back there.”
another smirk. “oh yeah?” he leans down, lips ghosting your left ear. “why not? i own the club, sweets.”
your mouth drops again, the dots beginning to connect. in your perplexed state, bucky walks behind you, making his way behind the bar counter until he’s directly across from you. when you look at him again, you notice he’s shed his suit jacket and as he rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, his metal arm glints in the dim lighting. you suck in another breath, realizing who you’re talking to.
“wait… you’re-”
“so what can i get you, hm?”
you blink in shock. “uhm… a dirty shirley, please.”
you see him smirk again, reaching for a bottle and pouring into a shaker. the muscles of his hands flex, and you watch him work expertly. you shake your head, exhaling softly and glancing further to your left, noticing the blonde man bucky was just talking to. 
he smiles, seeming a little exhausted but it’s sincere nonetheless. “steve.” 
you nod, “you… work together, i’m guessing?”
his eyes shift to bucky then back to you. he nods slowly, so lightly you almost miss it. you turn back to the man making your drink. 
“how did you get that?” you’re looking at his metal arm.
he chuckles again, his tone still teasing. he looks at you, the glint in his eyes making your knees buckle. “work.” 
you hum. his calloused hand reaches in front of you, placing the freshly made drink right in your eyeline. his hand remains beside it. he’s leaning onto the counter now, hands pushing against the marble. 
slowly, you take a small sip, eyes lighting up at the taste. “mm, this is amazing.”
he doesn’t respond, eyes flickering between the way your hand grips the glass and where the fabric of your dress falls just above your chest. his gaze is so intense, you’re afraid you’re going to shatter the glass.
“i haven’t seen you here before.”
you nod, swallowing more of your drink. “my friend has been bugging me to try this place out.” your head shifts towards where natasha still moves on the dancefloor.
bucky quirks a brow. “natasha?”
your eyes shoot up. “you know her?”
“she works for me.” 
“oh.” when you turn back to look at her, the blonde-haired man – steve, he’d said his name was – had one hand on her lower waist. he pulls her closer, her back practically against his chest as they dance together. it’s so erotic, you have to look away. “i didn’t know.”
“but you know who i am?” the shuffle of his feet tells you he’s back in his seat beside you. after a beat of silence, cold metal graces your chin, pulling your head up. you’re face to face now. 
“i know… of you.”
another beat of silence, the pulse of the club’s music taking over the conversation. his hand drops from your face and you sense his reluctance to do so. 
“do you know me?”
his tongue clicks. “heard of ya.” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “heard of how sweet you are, just wanted to see for myself.”
this makes your ears perk up. “natasha?”
he nods. “wouldn’t shut up about your weekends together.” his hand traces down your shoulder and bicep. his touch is new to you, but already you don’t want it to stop. “but you never came by here.”
your lip is caught between your teeth. he’s making you nervous. 
“you aren’t scared of me, peaches, right?”
you shake your head a little too eagerly and it brings the smirk back onto his face. 
“good.” his hand drags down your arm, dropping off and landing on your waist. the first squeeze to your side has your core pulsing like the music. you faintly smell his cologne, a mix of vanilla and something woodier. 
“why ‘good’?” you place your drink on the counter. “you planning on taking me home or something?”
“or something…” he trails off, voice a low whisper, a hum following his last word. “wanna see if you really taste like peaches,” you suck in a gasp, “but i can wait. i’m a patient man.”
“okay.” you close your eyes, the feeling of his hand on your waist is so blissful, you don’t want to leave your spot in the corner of the bar, wanting to stay with the mystery man you just met. “and if i don’t want to wait?”
bucky’s pupils flicker a shade darker, a glint of something else hidden behind them. his eyebrow quirks up again, surprised by your forwardness. 
“you can’t leave me stranded then, peaches.” another squeeze to your waist. “if i get you, i keep you.”
goosebumps spread across your arms. he’s so close and his hands are so big that you have to hold back from acting like a cat in heat. 
“keep me?”
a deep, breathy chuckle escapes him. “once i get a taste, peaches…” his lips hover just by your ear again, voice sultry. “i won’t let you go.”
⋆˚✶˚‧⋆。˚
bucky masterlist
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m4rv3l-girl · 28 days ago
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Hi.
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Warnings: Copious amounts of fluff.
Bucky Barnes just wanted a quiet morning.
The café on the corner of Brooklyn’s Montague Street was one of the few places he could sit and just be. No one stared, no one whispered, and most importantly - no one recognized him. A small mercy in a world still debating whether the Winter Soldier was a war hero or a war crime waiting to happen.
So, there he was, sitting in the corner, nursing a black coffee that had long since gone cold, lost in his thoughts.
And then, a tiny human plopped into the chair opposite him.
Bucky blinked. The kid couldn’t have been more than three, maybe four. He had an head full of dark hair and big, inquisitive eyes, the kind of expressive face that hadn’t yet learned the art of masking emotions.
“Hi,” the kid said, swinging his legs under the table.
Bucky glanced around. Surely, this tiny person had an owner? But there was no frantic adult in sight.
“…Hi?” Bucky tried.
The kid squinted at him. “You look sad.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That so?”
“Uh-huh. My mommy says people who look sad need cookies.”
Bucky huffed out a short laugh. “Smart lady.”
“She is smart,” the boy agreed, nodding solemnly. Then he pointed to Bucky’s metal hand, which was resting on the table. “What’s that?”
Bucky tensed. He wasn’t exactly in the habit of letting people, let alone kids, gawk at the thing Hydra had left him with. But the boy just stared, curiosity untainted by fear.
“It’s my arm,” Bucky answered simply.
“Why’s it all shiny?”
Bucky glanced down at the vibranium limb. “It’s… special.”
The kid considered this, then, as if arriving at a grand conclusion, nodded. “Like Iron Man.”
Bucky fought the urge to grimace. “Not exactly.”
“I like Iron Man.”
“Yeah,” Bucky muttered. “Lot of people do.”
The kid leaned forward, whispering like it was a secret. “I like Captain America more.”
Bucky smirked. “Good choice.”
The kid beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “I’m Leo.”
Bucky hesitated before answering, but there was something about the unwavering trust in Leo’s eyes that made him cave. “Bucky.”
Leo’s face scrunched up in deep concentration. “That’s a funny name.”
Bucky snorted. “Yeah, well, I was born a long time ago.”
Leo’s eyes went wide. “How long? Are you a grandpa?!”
Bucky choked on his coffee.
Before he could respond, a frantic voice called out, “Leo?!”
Bucky turned just as a woman - young, maybe early twenties - came rushing over, looking half panicked and half relieved. She had the same dark hair as the kid, her cheeks flushed as she scooped Leo up.
“There you are! You can’t just run off like that, baby.”
Leo giggled, unfazed. “Was talkin’ to Bucky.”
The woman finally looked at Bucky, and he swore his brain short-circuited for a second. She was stunning.
“Uh - sorry,” she said, adjusting Leo on her hip. “He does this. Just picks people and befriends them.”
Bucky shrugged. “He’s got good taste.”
She exhaled, rubbing her forehead. “I was about to call in an Amber Alert.”
Leo patted her cheek. “It’s okay, Mommy. Bucky’s nice.”
Her expression softened as she looked at Bucky again. “Thanks for not..uh, being a serial killer, I guess?”
Bucky chuckled. “No problem.”
She hesitated, then smiled. “I’m Y/N.”
Bucky didn’t know what possessed him, but he held out his hand. She shook it, her palm warm against his.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, feeling a strange warmth spread through his chest. “Your son’s got a good heart.”
“Yeah,” she said, her smile lingering. “He’s something else.” Their eyes met and held for a beat too long. The air between them crackled with something unspoken.
“Well, we should probably let you get back to your - whatever you were doing,” she said, her voice a little shaky. Bucky nodded, his hand still hovering in the space where their palms had met. “Yeah, I should go.”
But he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Not yet. “Do you come here often?” she asked, breaking the silence. Bucky shrugged. “I come and go. Try to keep to myself mostly.”
Leo squirmed in her arms. “Can we sit with Bucky, Mommy? Pleeeease?” Y/N bit her lip, looking torn. “I don’t want to bother you. I know you probably—“
“It’s fine,” he said, surprising himself. “Stay. I don’t bite. Unless it’s necessary.”
Leo giggled at his joke, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. The sound was like music to Bucky’s ears - sweet, genuine, and not bothered by the horrors of the world. He found himself smiling back at them, feeling something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. They sat down, Y/N ordering a mint tea and Leo getting a chocolate milkshake.
Leo chattered away, asking questions about everything from Bucky’s favorite color (which was, apparently, blue) to what he did for fun (which was, admittedly, not much). Y/N listened, sipping her tea, her eyes never leaving Bucky’s face. He found himself opening up, telling them about the old movies he liked and the books he read in his solitary apartment. It was a simple conversation, but it felt like a lifeline in a sea of chaos. As the minutes ticked by, Bucky realized that for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like a ghost of the past, haunting the present. He felt alive. Human. Y/N’s eyes searched his, and he wondered if she saw the same thing he did - the potential for something more.
But the moment was fleeting. The café door slammed open, and a gust of wind sent the napkins flying. A group of teenagers piled in, one of them wearing a Captain America T-shirt. Leo squealed with excitement, pointing and asking if Bucky knew the man on the shirt. Bucky’s smile faded.
He was the Winter Soldier again, a relic of a bygone era, a legend come to life. But here, in this café with Leo and Y/N, he was just Bucky. A man with a story, a history, and a metal arm. The weight of his past suddenly seemed a little less burdensome under the lightness of their company.
Leo’s questions didn’t stop, and Bucky found himself enjoying the simplicity of them. They were a stark contrast to the complex interrogations he often faced from S.H.I.E.L.D. and his own inner demons. The kid’s enthusiasm was contagious, and soon enough, Y/N was joining in, her laughter binding up his soul.
The teenagers at the counter caught sight of them and whispered among themselves. Bucky’s eyes narrowed, anticipating the usual reaction of fear or suspicion.
But Y/N didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice low. “You knew Captain America, didn’t you?” she asked, a spark of mischief in her eyes.
Bucky’s jaw tightened, his pulse spiking. How did she—? But before he could protest, she was already playing along, turning to Leo with a conspiratorial wink. “You know, I think Bucky here might be able to tell us some stories about Captain America that aren’t in the comics. What do you say, Bucky? Can you tell us a secret?” Her eyes met Bucky’s, almost non-verbally communicating that he could just make something up to humor Leo.
He took a deep breath, feeling a twinge of something that felt suspiciously like hope. He could do this. He could be part of a normal conversation, share a piece of himself without the burden of his past weighing him down. “Well, Leo, Cap and I used to have a secret handshake, but I can’t tell you that. It’s top secret, you know?”
Leo’s eyes went wide with excitement. “That’s so cool!”
The teenagers’ whispers grew louder, and Bucky felt their gazes boring into him. He was about to stand up, to leave this false sense of belonging behind when Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was gentle, reassuring. “They’re just being nosy, Hun.” The name slipped out like a habit, being used to handing out affection.
Bucky nodded, his heart rate slow.ing. He took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee and told them a fabricated story about him and Captain America stopping a pie thief. Y/N’s laughter was the sweetest sound he had heard in a long time, and Leo’s eyes sparkled with wonder.
Leo leaned in, his small hand reaching for Bucky’s metal one. “Can you tell me another real story?” Bucky’s chest tightened, his mind racing through a lifetime of memories, some too painful, others too classified.
But then, a memory of Steve, of them as kids, sneaking into a carnival after hours to ride the Ferris wheel, slipped through the cracks of his guarded psyche. He told Leo about that night, about the taste of illicit cotton candy and the way Steve’s laughter had echoed through the deserted park. He talked about the stars above them, so numerous it was like they were part of a constellation themselves.
Y/N’s hand didn’t leave his shoulder, and her grip tightened slightly as he spoke, as if she could feel the weight of his memories. Her eyes searched his, filled with a soft understanding that Bucky hadn’t expected. It was a look that didn’t demand explanations, didn’t ask for anything but to listen.
Leo’s eyes grew sleepy as the story wound down, his head drooping onto Y/N’s shoulder. She whispered something into his ear, and his eyes fluttered closed. Carefully, she placed him into the stroller she had left by the side of the table, his chubby cheek resting against the plush padding.
“Thank you, Bucky,” she said softly, her voice filled with a warmth that seemed to seep into his bones. “That was… really nice. He loves superheroes - says he wants to be one when he’s older.”
Bucky’s throat tightened. The thought of Leo, with all his innocence and wonder, growing up in a world that could so easily shatter his dreams, was too much to bear. He swallowed hard. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the café a gentle backdrop to their shared quiet. Then Y/N spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think we’re gonna head off. Can I, uh…give you my number? Or something.”
Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”
Y/N shrugged, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. “Oh, I..sorry…”
Bucky stilled, his mind racing with possibilities. It had been a long time since someone had offered him something other than suspicion or pity. “Why not?” He found himself saying. Y/N’s smile grew back, and she pulled out a napkin, scribbling her number with a pen she produced from her pocket.
“Call me if you ever need anything,” she said, passing it to him. “Or if you just want to…tell us more stories?”
Bucky took the napkin, feeling the warmth of her hand as it left his. He glanced at the number, then back at her. “Thanks. I’ll keep it safe.”
Y/N nodded, her eyes holding his for a moment longer before she stood, gently rocking the sleeping Leo in his stroller. She reached for her purse to pay for the drinks and Bucky stopped her hand.
She smiled. “See ya around, Bucky.”
Bucky watched them leave, his hand lingering on the napkin. He didn’t know what had just happened, but it felt significant.
As he sat there, the café's chatter washed over him like a comforting blanket, the aroma of freshly baked muffins and the clinking of spoons against porcelain mugs grounding him in the present. He hadn’t felt this at ease in years. Maybe it was Leo’s unbridled enthusiasm or Y/N’s easy acceptance that had allowed him to breathe again.
He took out his phone and sent a quick text to Sam, his newfound friend and the man who had taken over the mantle of Captain America.
He didn’t go into details, just a simple message: “I think I just met the woman I want to marry.”
——————————————————————————————————
Hope you enjoyed this little thought of mine! ☺️
248 notes · View notes
the-winter-spider · 25 days ago
Text
Yours, Always | Part Twenty
Steve x reader, Bucky x reader AU
Word Count: 7.8k
Warnings: Violence, swearing, angst idk fluff lol
A/N: SORRY YALL ive had this done just had to coordinate the flashbacks and edit it but im in the process moving so im super busy! Im almost done building my new PC so im super excited
Masterpost
----
The school hallway buzzed with the usual mid-morning chaos, locker doors slamming, voices overlapping, the occasional burst of laughter. You weren’t paying attention to any of it, focused on digging through your bag for your English notebook, when a few murmured words cut through the noise.
“Barnes is fighting.”
Your brows furrowed. Your fingers froze.
At first, you didn’t think much of it, Bucky got into trouble, sure, but fights? Not really. Not unless…
You heard it again, from another cluster of girls by the lockers.
“He’s gonna get his ass kicked.”
"Think he'll get kicked off the team?"
“God, he’s so stupid.”
“Probably over her. It’s always about her.”
That had your head snapping up. Your stomach dropped.
You barely noticed the sharp slam of your locker door against your fingers as you spun around. Pain shot through your hand, but you didn’t care. “Where?” you demanded.
The girls blinked at you, like they were surprised you were even asking.
“Out front,” one finally said, tilting her head toward the doors. Then, with a smirk, she added, “Not surprised, though. He only seems to care about you for some stupid reason, not like you’re that great, average at best.”
You rolled your eyes, already turning on your heel, already running.
Your heart pounded in your ears as you shoved through the front doors and burst outside, your breath catching at the sight of them.
Bucky and some asshole from the lacrosse team.
They were squared off, inches apart, the tension so thick it practically crackled in the air.
You barely made it onto the pavement before the guy shoved Bucky hard. Bucky didn’t move much, his frame was too solid, too steady but his jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
The asshole leaned in, muttering something low, something meant for Bucky and Bucky alone. Whatever it was, it made Bucky snap.
His eyes darkened, his nostrils flared, and before you could even scream his name, his fist was colliding with the guy’s jaw with a crack.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Someone whistled.
The guy staggered back but quickly recovered, throwing a punch of his own, then another and another.
You pushed forward, shoving past people, panic gripping you as you saw Bucky’s lip split, his knuckles go red. Fists flew, bodies shoved, they still didn’t stop till, someone shouted.
“Alright! That’s enough man!!” A few members of the football team stormed in, grabbing them both, pulling them apart before it could go any further.
You didn’t hesitate.
You grabbed Bucky’s wrist, pulling him away before anyone could stop you. He let you, following without a fight, his breath ragged, his lip bleeding, his knuckles bruised.
Your hands shook as you led him toward the side of the building, away from the crowd, away from him.
“Bucky, what the hell was that?” you demanded, finally turning to face him.
His lip was already swelling, and there was a deep red gash above his brow, but he was smiling. Smiling.
He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What? He had it coming.”
You scowled. “Why?”
Bucky just shook his head, looking down.
You stepped closer, your voice softer now. “Buck.”
His eyes flicked up to yours.
“I’d do anything for you,” he said simply, as if that was answer enough.
Your heart squeezed. “But Bucky, I didn’t ask you to do this.”
His smile widened, slow and lazy despite the blood on his teeth. “Funny thing is… you don’t have to.” He shrugged, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I’d defend your honor in a heartbeat.”
You swallowed, your fingers curling into fists at your sides.
Without thinking, you reached into your bag, pulling out a pack of tissue and an old water bottle. You poured some onto the tissue before pressing it gently against his lip. He winced slightly but didn’t pull away, watching you carefully.
“Well, this will have to do until we get you home,” you muttered. “You need ice. Your mom is gonna kill you.”
Bucky grinned. “Eh. I’d die for you, so it’s worth it.”
"Dramatic." You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “How's it feel?.”
"Hurts." He smirked, his tone playful. “A kiss would probably make it better.”
You froze. Your hand stilled against his lip.
He was staring at you, lips still parted, eyes still twinkling, but there was something else there, something unreadable, something that made your stomach twist.
Your breath caught, and before you could stop yourself, before you could overthink it, you leaned in.
Soft. Quick. Barely a brush, but it was enough.
Your lips landed on his cheek, lingering just a second longer than they should have. Your pulse pounded, your fingers trembling slightly against his jaw as you pulled back just enough to meet his stunned gaze.
“All better?” you whispered.
Bucky didn’t speak, didn’t breathe. He just stared.
You smiled, straightening. “Come on, Rocky.” You tugged him forward by the wrist. “Let’s get you home before your mom murders you.”
Bucky finally blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he had fallen into.
With a lopsided grin, he threw an arm around your shoulders, tugging you against his side.
“Lead the way, champ.”
----
Clint’s eyes widened in horror.
“Shit—”
Before anyone could react, before anyone could breathe, Bucky was on him. He grabbed Clint by the collar, shoving him back so hard a chair toppled over, the sharp crash of glass shattering against the floor echoing through the stunned silence of the party.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Bucky’s voice was lethal, his entire body trembling with uncontained rage. The veins in his neck were taut, his fists curled so tight at his sides it looked painful.
Steve was suddenly there, reaching for you, his hands outstretched, face pale. “Are you—”
“Don’t.”
Bucky’s voice was a low snarl, a warning, a threat, his wild, furious eyes snapping to Steve as he tossed Clint to the ground like he was nothing. He stepped in front of you, shielding you, his broad shoulders squared, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Steve stiffened. His voice was deadly quiet. “That’s my wife. Move.”
Bucky didn’t move.
His breath came ragged, his voice shaking with fury. “How the fuck have you let him treat her like this for years?”
Steve’s jaw ticked, hands curling into fists at his sides. “You don’t get to just insert yourself in my life, in our life and act like you know everything.”
“No?” Bucky let out a humorless laugh, his eyes dark and haunted. “I know what I see and I see a guy who stood by and lets her get treated like shit because he was too much of a fucking coward to do anything about it!”
Behind him, you stood frozen, shaking, your fingers fisting the back of Bucky’s shirt like a lifeline. Blood dripped from your nose, warm and sticky against your upper lip. Your first punch. A sharp, dull pain bloomed across your cheekbone, your breathing uneven as your forehead rested against Bucky’s back.
Steve’s nostrils flared. “You don’t get to come back and ruin everything! You don’t know what we’ve all lost! Clint’s been struggling, it’s not an excuse, but he’s my friend!”
“And she’s your fucking wife!” Bucky roared.
Steve flinched at the sheer volume of Bucky’s voice.
Bucky’s face twisted, something shattered and aching in his expression, his hands still clenched at his sides, his knuckles white.
“You don’t get to act like you know shit about loss,” Bucky snapped, his voice cracking.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
His chest heaved, his head shaking furiously, his voice wavering in a way that made your heart break.
“You don’t get to stand there and let him say she doesn’t deserve what she has,” Bucky’s voice was raw, gutted, stripped down to nothing but the wreckage of eight lost years. “I lost eight fucking years of my life in a hellhole.” His voice wavered, like he was forcing the words out past something thick in his throat.
Eight years of pain.
Eight years of loneliness.
Eight years of silence.
Steve’s face remained unreadable. But his eyes, the way his gaze flickered to you, the way something tensed in his jaw, he knew.
Bucky’s voice dropped lower, something heart-wrenchingly desperate in it.
“And if there’s anyone who deserves a fucking shred of happiness,” Bucky swallowed hard, his head shaking slightly, his voice barely above a whisper now, “it’s her.”
You felt it, felt it in the way Bucky’s shoulders curled inward, like the weight of everything was too heavy for him to carry.
Felt it in the way his voice broke. Because it wasn’t just anger fueling Bucky. It was grief, love, and a lifetime of waiting for something he thought he’d never get to have.
The room was suffocating. Too loud, too quiet, too much. The weight of it all pressed down, down, down, thick and crushing, wrapping around your chest like a vice. The tension was a living, breathing thing, heavy in the air, pulsing like a second heartbeat. No one moved. No one spoke. The world had stopped.
Except for Bucky.
His body was trembling, his fists still clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling in uneven, ragged breaths. His jaw was tight, his face etched in fury, but it was his eyes that made your stomach turn, wild, desperate, burning with something deeper than rage. Something broken.
Sam placed a hand on Bucky's chest, he stepped between Bucky and Steve, his presence a warning. A plea.
“Come on, man,” Sam’s voice was low, grounding, but still firm. Not just to Bucky. To both of them.
Bucky swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, his breath shaking as he forced himself to step back. You could feel the restraint in him, the barely contained violence still coiling tight in his muscles, the need to lash out, to protect, to destroy, to fight.
But instead, he exhaled sharply, his hands twitching before finally relaxing, just slightly.
Sam turned to Bucky then, his expression unreadable, but something softened in his voice. Something quieter.
“Get her out of here.”
The words were simple, but they got the job done bringing Bucky back to reality. Bucky, who still looked like he was barely holding himself together, turned around fully to face you.
Your cheek still throbbed, a dull ache settling beneath your skin. The metallic taste of blood lingered on your tongue, the sharp sting of the impact still fresh.
But it wasn’t that that had you frozen in place. It was Steve. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said a word to you.
His face was unreadable, his lips pressed together, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you because you know he did and a part of you wanted him to because it was still Steve but he didn’t know, because he didn’t know if he still could.
Bucky clenched his jaw, eyes flickering between you and Steve.
A deep inhale. A slow, measured breath, a final glance toward Steve. Before he turned, his right arm slithered around your waist guiding you away. But not before saying one last thing.
His voice was like steel, sharp, unforgiving. “Get him the fuck out of here.”
Steve exhaled sharply, his head dropping for just a fraction of a second before he turned to Clint. A long silence stretched between them. Steve didn’t say anything he didn’t have to.
The thick tension in the air said enough, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on everyone like an unbearable force. Clint’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers flexing at his sides. His eyes flickered over the broken glass on the floor, the shattered remnants of the night, of a friendship that could never be pieced back together. He exhaled sharply, shoulders sinking, his face tight with something between anger and regret.
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. Defeated. “Yeah, I got it. Just gotta call a cab first.”
No one stopped him as he turned and walked out of the living room, his footsteps heavy, echoing in the stunned silence he left behind.
The party crumbled, guests murmured in hushed voices, exchanged glances, but one by one, they started filtering out. A few lingered, hesitant, casting wary looks between Steve and the front door like they weren’t sure if they should say something, do something.
But Steve wasn’t looking at them. He wasn’t looking at anything except the door where you’d disappeared. A deep breath shuddered through his chest, his hands running over his face, through his hair, down the back of his neck, like he was trying to ground himself, to breathe. But he couldn’t.
Because it was done.
It was done.
He didn’t even flinch when Wanda appeared at his side, her presence soft and steady, like she was trying not to startle him. She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch warm. She didn’t say anything at first, just gave a small, firm squeeze.
“I don’t know if I made the biggest mistake of my life,” Steve murmured, voice raw, “or if I did what I was supposed to.”
Wanda sighed, her heart aching at the way his voice broke, at the way his hands curled into fists like he was fighting everything inside of him.
“Maybe it’s both,” she admitted quietly.
Steve let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Maybe.”
They stood there for a long moment, surrounded by the mess of the evening, empty glasses, scattered napkins, the lingering scent of beer and something burnt from the kitchen. But all Steve could feel was the empty space where you should have been.
Wanda squeezed his shoulder once more. “You’re not alone, Steve.”
His throat tightened, his jaw clenched. “Then why does it feel like I am?”
She sighed, letting her hand drop. “Because endings always feel like that.
----
The dorm room was warm, filled with the soft hum of a record playing in the background, the scent of vanilla and coffee lingering in the air. Wanda sat cross-legged on her bed, pretending to read, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the frayed edges of her sweater. Across from her, Natasha lay on her stomach, legs kicking in the air as she flipped through a magazine, but Wanda could tell she wasn’t really paying attention..
“Would it bother you if I went for Steve?”
Wanda’s fingers twitched. The words were so light, so nonchalant, but they hit her like a punch to the stomach.
Her eyes stayed on the page, pretending to read the same sentence over and over again. “What?”
Natasha shifted, pushing herself up onto her elbows, watching Wanda carefully. “Steve, I know you used to have a thing for him.”
Wanda swallowed, her throat suddenly tight.
Used to.
She forced herself to laugh, shaking her head like it was nothing, like her stomach wasn’t twisting into knots. “I did not have a thing for Steve.”
Natasha gave her a knowing look.
Wanda smiled, too wide, too easy. “Okay, fine. Maybe I had a tiny crush on him. But that was forever ago.” She waved a hand, like she was brushing it away, like it wasn’t still sitting in her chest like a weight she never could shake. “It was nothing. I got over it before anything even happened.”
Natasha was still watching her, unreadable. “You sure?”
Wanda’s smile didn’t falter, not even for a second. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m sure.”
Wanda let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she finally looked up at her best friend, the girl she loved just as much as she envied, the girl who was bold enough to reach for the things she wanted, the girl who would never hesitate the way Wanda always did.
“Tasha,” she said, voice light, steady. “What could a girl want more than two of her best friends to be happy? Especially together.”
Natasha’s face softened, her lips pulling into a grin. “You’re kind of the best, you know that?”
Wanda smirked, even as her chest ached. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Natasha laughed, flopping back onto her bed, already lost in whatever thoughts were racing through her head, thoughts of Steve, of possibilities, of something that was never meant to be Wanda’s.
And Wanda just smiled, turning back to her book, pretending she wasn’t already grieving something she never even had.
Before anyone could say anything else, the door swung open, and Clint walked in, tossing his keys onto Wanda’s desk without a care. “Alright, which one of you is ordering the pizza? Because I’m starving.”
Steve followed behind him, laughing under his breath as he kicked the door shut with his foot. “You’re always starving.”
“Yeah, well, I burn a lot of energy keeping up with you, not all of us can just…look like that.” Clint flopped onto Natasha’s bed without invitation, making her grunt as she shoved him off. “So? Pizza?”
Steve shook his head, dropping into the desk chair, his eyes flicking to Wanda for just a second, just long enough for her heart to stutter. She looked away quickly, pretending to flip a page in her book.
Natasha sat up, stretching. “Yeah, we can order in. What do you guys want?”
“Not pineapple,” Steve said immediately.
Clint scoffed. “You have no taste.”
----
The city air hit your skin like a shock.
The distant hum of traffic and the faint glow of neon signs blurred together, but none of it felt real. The world had dulled at the edges, background noise to the raw, aching throb in your cheek, to the tightness in your throat, to the warmth of Bucky’s hands as they tilted your face toward the streetlight.
His jaw was tight, his breath uneven, his fingers twitching like he was barely holding himself together. Like something inside him was still coiled, ready to snap, ready to turn around and finish what Clint started.
“Are you okay, beautiful?”
His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was anything but.
You barely had time to nod before his hands warm and calloused cradled your face. His thumbs brushed softly over your cheekbones, his touch careful despite the tension rolling through his entire body. His gaze dragged over your features, scanning every inch of you like he needed to commit this moment to memory, like he was making sure you were still here, still breathing, still here. It didn’t feel real to him, the feeling he had, the pure panic he hadn’t felt since they got captured and he realized the possibility of never seeing you again. He couldn't fathom the mere thought of you getting hurt on his watch, especially because of him.
Your chest ached. “I’m okay, Buck,” you whispered, but your voice wavered. “It was an accident—”
His grip tightened just slightly. Not enough to hurt. Never that. But enough to stop you mid-sentence.“You gotta stop making excuses for how he’s treated you.”
The words were soft, but the meaning behind them was not. The words cut, sharp as glass, lodging deep inside you.
You swallowed hard. “Bucky—”
“From what you’ve told me,” he continued, his voice a low rasp, “it shoulda been stopped a long time ago.”
You exhaled slowly, your fingers gripping at the hem of your dress. “Steve tries his best, but grief is strange.”
Bucky’s nostrils flared, his lips pressing into a thin line, his chest rising and falling in uneven pulls. His eyes burned into yours, something unreadable flickering behind them, something angry, something wounded, something like this should’ve never happened to you.
His fingers brushed against your jaw, impossibly soft, before he spoke again. “You deserve more than the best,” he murmured, voice so quiet it nearly got lost in the city noise. “You deserve the world.”
The words hurt. Not because they weren’t true, but because you weren’t sure you believed them.
A throat cleared beside you, shattering whatever had been building in the air between you and Bucky.
Sam stepped forward, holding out a wet cloth and a bag of ice.
“Here,” he said, his voice gentler than before. “Figured you’d need these.”
Bucky took both without a word, his fingers brushing against Sam’s briefly in silent thanks before turning his attention back to you.
“Sit.”
It wasn’t a request.
You obeyed without thinking, sinking onto the curb as Bucky crouched in front of you. His knees pressed into the concrete, his shoulders rigid, but his hands, god, his hands were impossibly gentle as he wiped at the blood beneath your nose.
You winced at the contact.
His eyes flickered up immediately, jaw clenching. “M’sorry,” he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher, like the words physically hurt to say. “Last thing I ever wanna do is hurt you.”
Something inside you softened at that, the raw honesty in his voice, the way his touch was so heartbreakingly careful despite the storm still raging behind his eyes.
“S’okay,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky just exhaled sharply through his nose, his thumb sweeping over your cheek one more time before he pressed the ice against your skin himself, refusing to let you take it.
Like he didn’t trust you to take care of yourself the way you deserved.
No one spoke as Bucky held the ice to your face. Sam was just hovering on the bench outside on the small porch, while you sat on the ledge and Bucky kneeled in front of you. Your eyes stared at the door because if they stared into Bucky's eyes any longer you knew you’d be a blubbering mess and you didn't want that, not on Steve’s birthday.
The weight of the fight still pressed against your skin, the sting of Clint’s punch radiating through your cheek and nose. The taste of blood lingered on your tongue, metallic and cruel.
You should be thinking about that.
Or maybe about your best friend sitting in front of you, taking such good care of you, his hands still twitching with the urge to do something.
Or maybe about the fact that your husband was still inside, trying to salvage what was supposed to be his birthday party, you hadn’t even given him your gift for yet.
Your bottom lip wobbled. But that wasn’t what was consuming you.
It was him.
Clint.
Because even now, even as he was leaving, he couldn’t help himself. He had to get the last word in.
“You think you’re so fucking special,” he muttered, his head shaking, his jaw clenched as he turned toward the street. “You think the whole damn world revolves around you.”
It happened fast. Too fast.
Bucky moved, the ice was placed beside you then he lunged before he even realized he was doing it, before anyone could stop him, before you could stop him.
His entire body coiled, years of trained instincts snapping to the surface. He was ready to throw a punch that would break Clint’s nose.
Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist.
“Bucky, no.”
He turned, nostrils flaring, chest rising and falling rapidly. His muscles were rigid, his fingers twitching, his body screaming for release. His eyes met yours, saw the way your shoulders were shaking, the way you were barely keeping it together and he stopped.
You took a deep breath. Swallowed back the fury, the ache, the years of resentment clawing up your throat.
You turned to Clint. “You have no idea what I have or haven’t lost, Clint.”
Your voice was steady, but your chest was heaving, your eyes burning. “You have no idea what I went through when Bucky was gone. How I lost my best friend. How I grieved him. How I lost myself because of it and then when I finally started piecing my life back together, you treated me like shit, like I didn’t belong, like I was some placeholder for Natasha.”
You paused.
“I know I could never replace her,” you whispered, voice shaking. “I never wanted to. Because no one could ever replace Bucky. Steve never did, he never could, I would never allow that.”
Clint’s mouth opened, but you cut him off.
“You wanna know what’s not fair?” Your voice cracked.
“That you got to grieve Natasha properly. That you got to mourn your best friend because I didn’t. Because there was nothing to mourn. You got a beautiful niece out of it that looks exactly like her. I had a home I couldn’t even go to anymore!”
Your hands were trembling. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself and realize what you have. Because I know what I have!”
Clint’s face was unreadable.
His eyes were dark.
“I lost him.” Your voice broke.
“And then, by some miracle get him back, you’re acting like it’s a crime for me to be happy about it.”
Your breath hitched, your pulse roaring in your ears. “Just put yourself in my shoes.” You were breathing hard, your heart slamming against your ribs.
“I told you to leave my wife alone.”
Steve, his voice cut through the air like steel, sending a chill down your spine.
Clint turned, exhaling sharply, like he was about to argue.
Steve took a step forward. “Don’t make me make you leave.”
Clint scoffed, shaking his head, then he smirked. It wasn’t amused, It was vicious. Cruel.
“That’s your wife, huh?” His voice dripped with something toxic.
Your stomach dropped.
Steve stiffened, Bucky shifted, his entire body coiled like he was ready to snap.
Clint continued, his smirk widening. His words turned into something deadly. “You gonna tell her, Rogers?”
Clint tilted his head, mocking. “You gonna tell her about the divorce lawyer? The custody arrangements you’re already figuring out?”
Your head snapped toward Steve.
He went rigid. Jaw tight, face carefully blank.
Clint let out a cruel laugh. “Oh, wait! Of course not.”
He gestured between you and Bucky, his voice thick with mockery.
“But you did confide in the one person who’s been in love with you since we were fucking kids.”
Your heart stopped. Your head whipped toward Steve, pulse roaring in your ears.
Everything froze.
The weight of Clint’s words hung in the air, suffocating, heavy, crushing everything in its path.
Your heart pounded. Your vision blurred, your pulse roared in your ears.
Steve was silent.
Bucky was tense, his hands clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles had turned white.
“Clint.”
Wanda.
Her voice was soft, but the hurt in it cut sharper than any blade.
Clint’s face faltered, his jaw tightening like he was bracing himself.
“How could you?” Wanda’s voice wobbled.
Her eyes were glassy, a thin sheen of unshed tears making them shine in the dim light.
Her throat bobbed as she looked at him, as she searched for someone she no longer recognized. “Natasha’s been gone for seven years.” Her voice cracked. “We all lost her.”
The air around you was stifling, suffocating.
Steve tensed beside you.
“She was your best friend, Clint.” Wanda’s voice was thick with emotion. “And she was mine, too.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her hands trembling at her sides.
“Steve lost his fiancée.” She sniffled. “I lost my friend. Lily lost her mother. And yet none of us…none of us have treated anyone the way you’ve treated her.”
Her eyes flickered to you.
“Y/N lost her best friend. Just like you.” She swallowed hard. “And she has never, not once, treated anyone the way you have. She’s never turned her pain into something cruel.”
Clint’s jaw twitched, his fingers flexing at his sides.
Wanda let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t even know who you are anymore and I don’t think I wanna know you anymore.” Her voice was so quiet, but the words hit like a wrecking ball.
Clint flinched.
Suddenly outside felt too small, too fragile, too broken to fix. Wanda turned then, wiping at her cheek as she stepped toward the door.
She paused when she reached you. Her bottom lip wobbled. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Your throat closed up.
Steve took a breath beside you, like he was preparing to say something.
“Wanda—”
She turned toward him, a sad, knowing smile on her face. “It’s okay,” she murmured and she was gone.
Wanda left, the echo of a cab door slamming shut lingering in the heavy silence. Clint exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. He turned toward Steve, his expression unreadable, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, man,” he muttered. “And…uh happy birthday.”
Steve scoffed, shaking his head as he dragged a hand down his face. “Yeah,” he said bitterly. “Sure.”
You hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. Your mind was still racing, replaying Clint’s words over and over, your stomach twisting into knots. You could feel Steve beside you, his body tense, his silence deafening.
Clint turned toward you then, hesitating, like he wanted to say something else, to fix what he’d broken and he opened his mouth.
But Bucky was already stepping forward, positioning himself directly in front of you, his voice low, sharp, deadly. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
Clint turned, his steps heavy as he departed down the steps leaving only silence in his wake. The weight of it all settled into the air, thick and suffocating.
It was just the four of you now.
You stepped out from behind Bucky, your legs unsteady, your chest tight. Your gaze locked onto Steve’s, and your throat closed at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes, the way his lips were slightly parted like he was already bracing himself for what was coming.
“Is it true?” Your voice was quiet, broken, almost childlike.
Steve inhaled sharply. “Y/N, sweetheart, please, let’s just…let’s just talk about this.”
You shook your head. The tears you had been holding back finally broke free, trailing down your already bruised face, stinging against the raw skin. Steve’s eyes welled with his own, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but knew he couldn’t.
“How could you?” Your voice cracked, splintering in the silence between you. “How could you do this before we even got to talk?” You let out a bitter, breathless laugh, your hands trembling at your sides. “I can’t believe you, Steve. I—I—”
Steve exhaled a shaky breath, his own tears finally slipping free. “How could I?” His voice wavered, thick with emotion. He ran a hand down his face, inhaling sharply before looking at you again, really looking at you. “Your best friend came back from the dead. How could I not?” His voice broke at the end, and his whole body deflated. “It’s been staring at me every second since he came back.”
He shook his head, swallowing thickly, struggling to gather his thoughts. “And look…I’m so glad he’s okay. I really am.” He sniffed, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “But, baby…” Steve trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment, forcing himself to say it out loud. “You love him. You love him more than you ever could have loved me.” He looked at you again, his expression filled with something final, something devastating. “And that’s okay.” His voice softened. “But we’re only hurting each other by staying in this.”
Your mind spun. Your heart pounded. His words echoed in your head, bouncing off the walls of your skull, slamming into every fragile part of you that was already crumbling.
“You don’t get to decide that for me!” The words came out raw, venomous. You stepped forward, but before you could close the space between you, Bucky reached for your arm. You ripped yourself away from him, shoving him off before turning on Steve, pressing your hands against his chest, pushing him back.
Steve let you, barely budging, his hands hovering at his sides, unwilling to stop you.
“Why does everyone think they get to make decisions for me?!” you screamed, your voice shaking, your vision blurred with tears. “Do I walk around with a fucking sign on my head that says ‘Screw me over, I can’t think for myself’?”
You couldn’t breathe. Your lungs felt like they were collapsing, like the walls of this apartment were closing in around you. Your hands fisted into your hair as you started pacing, sucking in frantic, shallow breaths. Your pulse was roaring in your ears, drowning out everything else.
“I gotta go.” Your voice was tight, strangled, your chest constricting. “I gotta leave….I gotta get out of here.”
You shoved past Steve before anyone could stop you, the air feeling thinner, sharper, suffocating as you moved.
“Y/N—”
You barely heard your name. Bucky’s voice, urgent, worried, calling after you. Steve moved to go after you, but before he could take a step, Sam grabbed his arm, shaking his head.
“Let him go,” Sam murmured. “She doesn’t need you right now.”
Steve flinched, like the words physically hurt, like they sunk into his ribs and pierced something vital.
Bucky was already gone, hot on your trail.
----
The city had always felt too loud, too fast. But after Bucky… after you lost him, it became unbearable.
You started getting panic attacks not long after he was gone. The first time it happened, you had collapsed on the floor of your dorm, your hands gripping your chest, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. You thought you were dying. You thought maybe your heart was giving out, that it couldn’t handle carrying the weight of all the grief anymore.
But it didn’t kill you. It just made everything harder.
The first time it happened when you started dating Steve, it happened in the bathroom when you stared at your reflection a little too long, and realized you were aging and Bucky never would again.
Steve had found you. He sat with you on the floor, his back against the wall, his hand resting over yours where it was clutching your ribs, fingers splayed gently across your knuckles. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t push. He just sat there and waited.
When the shaking had finally stopped, when the weight in your chest had lifted just enough to let you breathe again, he said. “I get them too.”
You blinked at him, your pulse still too fast, your breath still shallow.
Steve offered you a small, knowing smile. “Running helps.”
And it did. You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the feeling of moving forward, maybe it was the control it gave you over your own body, maybe it was just something to do but it helped.
Until the day it didn’t.
It had been an ordinary day. You had been out, walking, doing something normal for once, when you saw him.
Bucky.
Except it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him, you knew that.
But God, it looked just like him. The same messy dark hair, the same sharp jawline, the same way he carried himself, shoulders broad and heavy with something unseen. You had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, your stomach lurching, your lungs locking up.
No. No, no, no….
You ran. You didn’t think. You just ran.
You ran until your legs burned, until your lungs ached, until your vision blurred and the city around you became nothing but flashing lights and smudged colors.
You didn’t know where you were.
You were gasping, your hands shaking so badly you almost dropped your phone when you called him.
Steve.
Your breathing was heavy and fast, his voice was alert the second he answered. “Y/N?”
“Steve, I—” Your breath hitched, your throat tightening so hard it felt like you were being strangled. “I don’t know where I am, I—I ran, I just ran, I couldn’t—”
“Okay, okay, hey, hey, I’m right here,” Steve soothed. You could hear movement, hear the urgency in his voice. “I need you to tell me five things you can see.”
You swallowed down the sob clawing at your throat, forcing your eyes open, forcing yourself to look. “A street sign, 23rd. A—A red car. A brown house with a broken step. A tree. And, um—” You blinked rapidly, searching, “A lamppost.”
“Good,” Steve breathed. You could hear the sound of his footsteps picking up, faster now. “Four things you can hear.”
You clenched your fists, focusing. “My heartbeat. Your voice. A dog barking. And… traffic in the distance.”
“I’m getting close,” Steve assured you. “Three things you can smell.”
You inhaled shakily. “Cigarette smoke. Coffee from somewhere. And… the rain on the pavement.”
His breathing was heavier now, faster. “Two things you can taste.”
You licked your lips. “Blood.” You had bitten your lip too hard. “And mint. I—I had a mint earlier.”
“Okay,” Steve murmured. His voice was so close now. “One thing you can touch.”
You saw him. Blonde hair damp from sweat, breathless from running, blue eyes frantic but so steady.
Your lips parted, your vision swimming, you ran straight into his arms.
“You,” you choked out, gripping onto his jacket like it was the only thing keeping you standing. “You, Steve.”
His arms wrapped around you, solid and unyielding, grounding you in a way only he could. “I’m here, I got you,” he murmured against your hair, pressing his palm against your back, his breath ragged. “You’re okay. Just breathe, baby. Just breathe. I’m here, I’ll always be here.”
----
The cool night air burned against your flushed cheeks, the sting of your tears cutting like glass. Your lungs ached, your legs trembling beneath you as you finally stopped running, your breath coming in sharp, broken gasps. The park was quiet. Empty. Just like it had been all those years ago.
“Y/N…”
You turned, your breath hitching, your heart twisting painfully in your chest as you met Bucky’s gaze.
He was standing there, just a few feet away, his expression unreadable at first. But then his face softened, his blue eyes sweeping over you, taking in your tear-streaked face, the way your body still trembled from the panic, from the weight of everything crashing down all at once.
You sniffled, your breath still short and heavy, wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together. “This is where I came when my mom told me about you.”
Bucky frowned, confused, but he stayed quiet, waiting.
You let out a shaky breath, blinking up at the stars. “I ran all the way from my dorm to here. I didn’t stop, didn’t think. Just ran and then I just… sat here for hours. I got so sick from the cold, but none of that pain felt like what I felt from losing you.” Your voice cracked, a fresh wave of tears slipping down your cheeks. “I never want to lose you again, Buck.”
His jaw clenched, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His voice was hoarse, quiet. “You never will have to but…” Silence stretched between you, as he paused briefly. “Maybe you’re meant to be without me,” Bucky murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your breath caught in your throat. “What?”
Bucky exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders sinking. “Maybe that’s why we were never together. Why it never worked. Maybe we were always just meant to be friends.” His voice was quiet, but there was something else beneath it. Something broken.
You shook your head, your heart pounding. “How can you say that?”
He avoided your gaze, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I just think… maybe we were better off apart.” He inhaled shakily. “Look at all this that I caused by coming back.”
Your stomach twisted. “Fuck you, Bucky.”
His head snapped up, his eyes wide.
Your chest was heaving now, your hands shaking. “Because we both know that’s not true! That it never was, that it never will be!” Your voice was rising, thick with frustration, thick with heartbreak.
You took a step closer, your body trembling. Your voice broke, the dam inside you shattering, again.
“I love you,” you choked out, the words ripping from you like they had been waiting years to be set free. “I have always loved you, Bucky.”
Bucky inhaled sharply, like the confession physically hit him, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it, like he thought maybe, just maybe, you never would.
Your heart was racing, your body trembling, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.
“When you left,” you whispered, voice thick, “When you…God, Bucky, when you fucking died, I didn’t just lose my best friend. I lost everything.” Your fingers curled into fists. “I lost my home, I lost my heart, I lost the only thing that ever felt real to me.” You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “And do you wanna know the worst part?”
Bucky was frozen, barely breathing, waiting.
“I never stopped loving you.” Your voice cracked. “Not once.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.
“I tried,” you admitted, your voice trembling now. “I tried so fucking hard. I told myself I had to move on. I told myself I had to let you go. I convinced myself that if I pretended long enough, if I built a life with Steve, if I had a family, then maybe… maybe I’d stop loving you.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks, your breath ragged.
“But it never fucking worked, Bucky.” You let out a broken laugh, shaking your head. “Because no matter where I was, no matter what I was doing, no matter how much time passed… it was always you.”
Bucky’s lips parted, but no words came out. His eyes were glassy, his hands shaking at his sides.
“It was you when I said I do. It was you when I laid awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what you would have said if you saw me in my dress.” You inhaled sharply, your voice barely above a whisper. “It was you every time I saw a damn shooting star, every time I heard a song on the radio that I knew you would love, every time I drove past some diner that wasn’t ours, a lake or some stupid field.”
A sob tore through your chest, a sound so deep it felt like it had been buried inside you for years, waiting for this moment to claw its way out. “It’s you, Bucky.” Your voice wavered, breaking apart like glass, raw and desperate and filled with every ounce of love you had for him. “It’s always been you.”
Bucky closed his eyes like he couldn’t bear to look at you, like the weight of your words was pressing too hard against the cracks already inside of him. His shoulders sank, his breath shaky as he exhaled, you stepped forward.
“I love you so much it fucking hurts.” Your voice cracked, your ribs felt like they were caving in, struggling to hold everything inside. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Through every version of us, through every almost, through every stolen moment that I thought meant something but you never let it mean anything.”
His breath hitched. His hands curled into fists at his sides like he was holding himself back. His eyes opened, and when they met yours, you felt it.
The pull. The thing that had always been there since the beginning. Since you were kids. Since the first time he stood up for you on the playground. Since the first time he made you laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe. Since every night spent side by side, under the stars, dreaming about the kind of life you both never thought you’d get to have.
“You were my first love,” your voice was softer now, but still trembling with the weight of everything, “and you are my last love. And I don’t care how messy this is, how complicated, how fucking impossible it seems because you are it for me.”
Bucky’s breath came ragged, his eyes glassy, his entire body frozen in place.
Your voice wobbled as you took another shaky step forward. “So don’t you dare stand there and tell me that we were never supposed to be together.” Your voice was barely above a whisper now, but it cut through him like a knife. “Because we both know that’s not true.”
Tears still streaked your cheeks, your breath uneven, your heart slamming against your ribs as you stared at him, waiting, searching, pleading.
Bucky looked at you like you were the most heartbreaking, most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Like you were something fragile and holy, something he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch.
You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. “But we need more time.”
His brows furrowed slightly, his lips parting like he wanted to argue, like he needed to argue, but he didn’t. He just let you speak.
“I need us to do this right, Bucky.” Your voice was barely there, but it held every ounce of certainty you had in you. “To finally get it right.”
You took a breath that barely filled your lungs, pressing your fingers against your temple for a brief moment before looking at him again. “I need to figure out this divorce with Steve—I didn’t even know we were getting one until now. I need to figure out Lily, everything. It’s just… it’s all happening so fast.” You sniffled, wiping at your cheek. “But all of it involves you.”
Bucky’s eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable, but his entire body was strung so tightly, like if he so much as breathed wrong, he would break.
You exhaled shakily, stepping just close enough that your fingertips brushed against his. “I know this is asking for a lot,” you whispered, voice trembling, “but… if you could wait a little longer—”
You didn’t even get the words out before Bucky moved.
He pulled you into his arms so suddenly, so desperately, you barely had time to react before you were against his chest, his arms caged around you, holding you so tightly like he was afraid you’d disappear.
You melted into him, clutching at his shirt, inhaling his scent, memorizing the way he felt, the warmth of him, the safety of him.
His breath was shaky against your hair, his fingers pressing into your back like he needed to ground himself in you, like he was afraid you’d slip right through his grasp.
"How's the nose?" He asked quietly.
"Hurts." you mumbled. "A kiss would make it better."
He smirked, shaking his head, he pulled back from the hug just enough to gently kiss your nose. His voice came, low, full of everything he had been holding in, he murmured. “Say it again, please.”
You froze before you whispered “I love you,”
His hands trembled as they reached for you, cradling your face like you are his entire world, which of course you are. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath shaky, his chest heaving.
Bucky whispered. “I’d wait a lifetime for a minute with you.”
His lips brushed against your temple, his fingers curling at the nape of your neck.
“I can wait a little longer, my sweet girl.”
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urdepressedslut · 2 years ago
Note
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 *
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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 🥰
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lokidokieokie · 2 years ago
Text
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
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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.
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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
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