#james bucky buchanan barnes

[navybrat817]

Okay, lovelies. Power went out and I can't do my work. 😭 So indulge with me if you will and Happy Moanday.

Good Vibrations

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 650

Warnings: Established relationship, fingering, dirty talk, inappropriate use of Bucky's arm (or is it?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

Banner by the talented @cafekitsune

Just imagine that you're in the mood, but Bucky still has some work he has to finish up. The man wants nothing more than to spread your thighs apart and indulge. And he will. He’s hard just thinking about wrecking pretty hole, but he really does need to get one more thing done before he can.

So he gives you his arm to warm yourself up.

“You want me to use your arm?” you ask.

He doesn't always use his prosthetic, but offering it to you to get yourself off?

“Think of it like a personalized vibrator,” is all he says before he gets back to work.

“Then give me a mold of your cock,” you tease, hearing him laugh before you leave him be.

Propping yourself up on the bed once you’re naked it feels strange to put the metal hand between your thighs. The rest of the arm rests on your torso, the weight pleasant and not heavy. It’s easy to imagine Bucky is right there beside you, encouraging you.

“Play with your clit and open your pretty pussy up for me. Get it nice and wet.”

And you do. You rub the thumb along your bundle of nerves the same way he would. You're careful when you slip a finger through your wet folds before you push it into your soaked channel. It feels good because it's his finger. And…

It starts vibrating.

You jolt with a surprised moan when a second finger joins the first, the vibrations making your walls clench. The thumb on your clit increases in pressure, making you moan again. It dawns on you through your rising pleasure that you aren't controlling the fingers.

Bucky is.

“Neat trick, isn't it, baby?” you hear from the other room, your body quivering. “All I have to do is think about what I want my hand to do to you and it does it. You’re so wet, aren't you? Fucking yourself on my fingers.”

You cry out when the fingers thrust and curl, searching for that spongy sweet spot that only he can find. “Bucky, please,” you beg.

Your heart pounds in your chest and you can't grip his hair since he isn't between your legs, so you play with your tits instead. Pinching your nipples, groping the soft flesh. His hands and mouth always feel incredible and you can't help but push your hips down as the fingers move faster.

“Take a picture and send it to me,” he calls out with a groan and you know the not-so-subtle beautiful bastard is likely done working and jerking off. “Wanna see my fingers in that sweet pussy.”

It isn't easy to grab your phone with your ragged breathing and trembling form, but you somehow manage. Spreading your legs wider, you do your best to capture the best image. You almost drop your phone when he adds a third finger, the vibrations increasing more. Fuck, you were going to spiral in the best way.

“I… I got it…” you whine, biting your lip when you see the picture and press send. The sight of his metal fingers opening you up is so dirty, so filthy, so hot. Now you want to take more photos for him to jerk off to layer. “Please. I’m close.”

“Come all over them, baby,” he grunts. He sounds as close as you feel. “Make me proud.”

You snap, coming apart at the seams and calling out Bucky’s name as the fingers fuck you through it. You soak them and the sheets beneath you and the vibrations don't stop. The fog is still in your mind when you turn your head and see Bucky naked in the doorway, his cock thick and heavy in his hand and a smirk on his handsome face.

“Ready for round two?”

Clenching around the metal inside you and letting out a sultry moan is the only answer he needs.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business. ❤️ And I hope my power comes back on soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

[multiversediaries]

at last

bucky barnes x reader

summary: after months apart, bucky finally came home.

warnings: soft!!!!!! soft buck!

masterlist

“y/n? i’m back." you heard someone say loudly. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. you lived alone, well, sometimes. you were james barnes' wife. you had met him a long time ago, you were always there for him, and he was deadly in love with you. he cared so deeply about you. if something were to happen to you, he'd lose his mind. which is why he decided to hide your marriage, to keep you out of danger's way. you walked towards your front door, wondering who it was. your eyes light up as you saw your husband standing in front of you.

"hey, doll." bucky said smiling, genuinely smiling, as he took you into his strong arms. behind him, were the avengers, all of them. they were currently in a mission, that was supposed to take a while, which was the reason you were so surprised to see your husband back at your shared house.

"what's happening?" you heard tony say, confused at the sight of you two. you giggled a bit, pulling away from your hug. bucky smiled at you, taking in how gorgeous you looked. he wrapped his hand around your waist.

"i'm sorry i didn't let you know in advance, but we needed a place where we couldn't be tracked." bucky said, his voice as soft as always. you noticed the confused faces whilst your husband spoke to you as he has always done, soft and incredibly sweetly. you nodded, softly humming in response, a big smile planted on your lips, understanding him.

"alright, robocop, spill. where are we and who's the lovely woman?" tony asked, making your cheeks flush softly. you heard bucky sigh. you rubbed his back gently.

"she's bucky's wife, tony." steve said, gaining your attention. you smiled at him, he chuckled at you. "it's nice to see you again, y/n." he said, leaning over to hug you. you instantly hugged him back, squeezing him gently. steve was present at your wedding. you couldn't help but smile at tony's reaction. everyone always reacted the same way about your marriage to james. it sometimes made your heart ache. because how could so many people think that he's unloveable?

"wife?" natasha spoke in surprise, as you looked at her. you knew nat. you were a widow. you escaped a few years after she did. you gave her a hug as well, glad to see she was doing well. "you didn't tell me you got married. i must admit, my feelings are hurt." she sad, pouting, you laughed.

"it was my idea. i just- i didn't want her in any danger." bucky said, as you looked back up at your husband. you smiled at him, his hand tracing circles on your skin. natasha nodded.

"well, come inside." you said softly, walking into your living room, everyone following behind you. they all took seats around your couch. you walked up to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit, as you saw some of them were injured.

"everything alright?" you said gently, as you sat across from tony, who had a few cuts on his face. bucky stood by the door frame, as he watched you.

"it just got complicated." steve said, sighing. you nodded, not wanting to intrude. you began cleaning tony's wounds, earning a few hisses from him. you tried to be as gentle as possible.

"i'm sorry, i just don't get it." tony said, breaking the silence, looking at you. you tilted your head in confusion, as you applied a band aid on his small cut. "how can someone like you be married to him?" he asked cockily. you laughed a bit at his words. you knew tony and bucky were not in a good place, after all, the winter soldier was responsible for his parents' deaths. but that wasn't bucky's fault.

"because you only know the winter soldier, but i know james barnes." you simply said, moving onto clint's injuries. bucky couldn't help but smile at your words. that was something he loved about you, how unashamed you were to love him. even after everything he had done, you wouldn't leave his side. he felt so undeserving of you.

after cleaning all of their wounds, you prepared some food for them. you wanted to help as much as you could, and it just felt so nice to have people around. you didn't have many friends apart from bucky, steve and natasha. you smiled as you watched the avengers dine, talking over their mission as you cleaned the dishes. you felt someone's hand wrap around you. you smiled, almost instantly.

"i missed you, darling." bucky said, planting a sweet kiss to your neck. you smiled widely, turning around to face him. you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging his body close to yours.

"i missed you even more, barnes. have you been doing alright?" you asked softly, your hands now laying in his cheeks, caressing his gorgeous features. you had spent so much time apart from him. almost three months apart. you felt empty without your other half. he nodded, kissing your forehead.

"i'm okay. i just want to be here with you." he said softly. your hands ran to now caress his back, as you looked up at bucky.

"i know, baby. but they need you. and honestly, you need them too." you said, leaning up to kiss his jaw. he nodded, before planting a sweet peck to your lips. he walked back towards your dining table, and continued the conversation about their mission.

it was very late at night already. all of the guys were resting. you had a lot of empty rooms, so you were able to offer a room to every single one of them. you wanted them to be comfortable, after everything they had gone through lately. you yawned softly as you waited for bucky on your shared bed. he walked out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair on a towel. you smiled at him, you couldn't believe he was back. he sat by the end on the bed and just looked at you. you smiled at him, before standing up, to help him off his prosthetic arm.

"it's alright, doll. maybe i should keep it on." he said, staring up at you as you stood right in front of him. you placed both your hands on his face.

"you're home, buck. you're safe." you said lightly, earning a shaky breath to leave his mouth. he wrapped his arms around your hips, hugging you. your hands ran to his soft hair, before planting a sweet kiss on his head.

"for the first time in a while, i was scared, y/n." you heard bucky say, you listened to his every word, as you played with his hair. "i was terrified of not coming back to you." he said, his arms tightening around you, earning a frown from you.

"james.." you said softly, trying your hardest to find his eyes. he was scared, you could tell. you wonder what had happened to have him this shaken up.

"it's just so much worse than we thought.. i'm not sure we'll be able to do something about it." he said, now looking up to meet your gorgeous eyes. you sighed softly.

"you'll be okay, my love. you will all be okay." you said, as you felt his hands pulling you even closer to him, as if he needed to feel you close. "i don't know the extent of what's happening, but i do know one thing. you guys are the earth's mightest heroes. it's alright to have doubts, but don't let them control you. you may not know what to do right now, but you will soon enough." you said, one of your hands running to his check to caress his beautiful face. "we all need a break sometimes. take this time to rest, and reflect. and a solution will come to you. but for now, rest, baby." you finished. he sighed and nodded. you always knew what to say.

"gosh, doll. i have missed you so much. being apart from you is torture." he said, now letting go of your waist. you smiled widely, kissing him lovingly, before helping him take off his arm. you placed it on the case and walked back to him, you placed a kiss to his shoulder, climbing back to bed once again.

bucky followed you to bed, laying his head on your chest. your hand ran to his hair, your fingers getting lost into his brown hair. bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you as close as he possible could. you placed small kisses to his head and forehead, as your gentle giant fell asleep peacefully in your arms.

at last. he was home.

[reverieblondie]

Book Club

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors do not interact! explicit smut, Porn with plot! Oral (fem receiving), P in V unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap people), dirty talk, reader is loud and Bucky loves it.

Summary: Working at a library and at times be boring... but what happens when one of your regulars wants to make a book club? Just you and him?

A/N: Self indulgence like always! Please let me know what you think! Never have written for Bucky but he's slowly consumed mt soul and I got this silly idea on a whim so I hope you all enjoy! If you like How I wrote for him send me an ask, request are open always!

Word Count: 5,723

‘The feeling of the cold metal is at first such a shock to her skin; it makes her whole body snap… and her thighs spread wider with need. He’s sliding his armored hand up so slowly… his ardent eyes drinking her in, relishing in all her sounds.

His princess, his lady he swore to always keep safe from anything, the one he promised to keep pure… now gasps and pleads for him to grace her with his touch. 

Their game of stares and honeyed teasing finally had a result; they both lost… 

She dragged him from the party, desperate for fresh air from the stuffy ballroom, but he knew the truth. She did it for him and his hate of crowds. Nothing ever gets past the princess he’s learned… but now, as she is so sweetly moaning and bucking your hips further, he’s learning more than he ever dreamed he could. 

He brings his lips to her ear, kissing lightly before he whispers gruffly, “Shh Princess,  we wouldn’t want anyone to catch you out here… with your skirts bundled up on your hips. With your knight’s hand in your cunt… They might get the wrong impression of you, my lady.”  

She rolls her eyes as she squeezes his shoulders, her frustrations building. “Stop teasing, and please just touch me!” 

He smirks as he brings his metal-covered finger to tease her clit, beaming as a moan rips from her throat as she-’ 

Ahem…

Entirely lost in the book’s text, you hardly notice the tall figure in front of your desk. It isn’t until a gruff clearing of their throat that it knocks you from your book, meeting your eyes to the piercing blue ones of Bucky Barnes. Who stands so patiently with his book in hand, waiting for you to do your job at the library instead of wasting time.

Fumbling with your bookmark, you hastily place it inside before awkwardly slamming your book down. “I am so sorry, Bucky. I was just…” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you can’t help but feel a bit foolish in front of him. 

“Getting lost in the story? I understand a good book can take you away from the present. No need to apologize.” He kindly offers you the right words with a smile that always makes you want to swoon.

“Exactly,” you say with a sigh of relief, taking the book from his hands. Feeling the slight warmth from his fingers as his skin brushes long yours. Such a contrast to the usually frigid library… you bet his whole body is perfectly toasty to curl up with. 

You must force yourself to stop your obvious gawking to look at the book he’s checking out. When you see the familiar front, you can’t help but giggle. “Checking out the Hobbit again?” 

Bucky shrugs, keeping his smile as he looks at the book in your hands. “It’s my favorite, plus it helps comfort me.” 

You bite your tongue, suddenly feeling like a complete idiot. Of course, he checks this book repeatedly; it’s like a memory of his former life… everyone knows what he’s been through, and now you’re teasing him like a jerk… 

The start of an apology is on the tip of your tongue, but Bucky cuts you off before you can say anything, “I am starting to remember all the lines, though, and will need to start reading something else. Do you have any recommendations? Like what are you currently reading?” 

He looks at the book you placed on the side, eyeing the title Iron Promises. “Sounds like a fantasy, which is right up my alley. What’s it about?” he asks, his curiosity piqued. 

Bucky reaches over and opens the book right on the bookmark, but you’re quick to slap it closed and drag it back to your TBR stack, “Wait! Um… I don’t think it’s… your kind of book…” 

“Why?” he asks, his brows furrowing, showing you that cute crease on his forehead. You fidget with it momentarily, feeling the awkwardness of the situation, trying your best to avoid his icy blue eyes. 

“Well, it is a fantasy but also a romance…” 

He tilts his head, “What’s wrong with romance? I can read a little romance.” 

Internally, you grimace, More like a lot of heavy smut…

Bucky leans casually on the counter, his vibranium arm taking the weight as he gets closer. “Plus, it will be fun to read something together that we can talk about maybe… kind of like a book club… if you’re interested…” 

The last part comes out a bit unsure, timid of possible rejection. You feel your cheeks blooming with a blush. A book club with James Bucky Barnes? This was something you could never even dream of. 

You have been working at the library for a while now, and having the former Winter Soldier check out books was certainly a surprise. However, as time passed and he continued to visit, it became less shocking. In fact, you both began to form what felt like the beginning of a friendship as you talked more.

Over time, you discovered some fascinating aspects about him. He’s strict about returning books on time, surprisingly quite friendly once he’s opened up and got to know someone, revealing a sweet playful side to himself. And to your delight, he’s a secret nerd, which explains his desire to start a book club in the first place, though his reading choices differ from yours...

“A book club sounds fun… but please, not this one. I’m already almost done with it anyway. Maybe it should be something we both haven’t read.”  You propose with a shaky smile, hoping he agrees. 

He tilts his head in compilation until he’s eyeing past your shoulder. You blush despite knowing exactly what he’s doing… It’s the stack of your TBR right next to the computer. He browses through the stack, reading their spines until he finally points his finger, “How about that one?”

Clashing silver,  Oh no….

Bucky asks if he can see it, and you bergrugently take it from the stack and place it in his hand. Thankfully, the cover of this book isn’t like some of the others with shirtless men holding women in a sensual embrace… but you know… you know that on the inside of the fantasy is spice that you’re not sure you’re ready for Bucky to know you’re into. Is he making fun of you? Or is this some weird game that will suddenly blow up in your face when he laughs at you? 

Bucky looks over the cover and reads through the summary before finally looking up with one of his rare grins, “This is perfect. Do we have any extra copies? We could get started tonight.” -he’s completely earnest in wanting to do this. It’s terrifying and yet so endearing… if he wants to read a dirty fantasy smut book with you… who are you to deny him? 

A few types on the computer show that you currently have one copy available, of course… 

You see that Bucky is looking up at you expectantly; you will never know how a man you know can be completely deadly and look so adorable with his smirk and clear blue eyes. Sliding the Hobbit over, you sigh, “The last copy is in the fantasy selection; put this one back and go grab it.” 

With a grin and a newfound pep in his step, Bucky takes the book, going to put it back and get the one for your book club. This may be the death of you… reading smut with the winter soldier, you couldn’t even fathom this shit. 

It's been surprisingly really fun and going shockingly really well. 

You two decided to have your first weekly meet-up at the library, somewhere you both knew well and could be comfortable with. To say you were nervous to talk to him about this romantic fantasy, this romantisy was an understatement. You figured if he said he hated it, the book club would dissolve, and you two would return to sharing smiles and small talk as he checked out his next selections. Sure, that thought made your gut twist into a bitter knot, but what was the alternative? You two hit it off … continue your little club with more books and conversions till you finally have two glasses of wine and slip how you think he is the most beautiful man you ever saw? 

Okay… maybe not that…

Especially not now when you two are going up to the elevator in your apartment. How did this happen? Ah, yes, you two were getting stares in the library, so he suggested somewhere more private, and you just had to offer up your apartment. 

"Meet me at the library, we can walk to my place!" - ugh, great thinking… 

You're trying hard not to stare at Bucky's reflection in the silver walls while also trying to avoid the eyes of Mrs. Green… You attempted to warmly greet your elderly neighbor… but she just stared at you two with her usual annoyed grimace. This, of course, started a staring war between her and Bucky… Honestly, you're not sure who's going to fold first. Bucky, of course, had that hardened military edge, but Mrs. Green? That's one stubborn granny… it seems to last forever till the set of cold, wrinkly eyes finally slide over to you. 

"Guest of yours?" she drawls dully. 

"Um, yes! This is James Barnes. He's my-" 

Mrs. Green taps her cane, making you stop talking, "Fine, fine, just make sure you two keep it down… I don't want to hear your sinning." 

Your jaw drops, and Bucky seems to crack a smile. "W-what, it's not like that!" 

Before you can explain, the elevator stops, sliding open and letting Mrs. Green waddle away to her apartment while you and Bucky follow suit to your place directly next to hers. God, you hope Bucky isn't too embarrassed. You're sure he's probably mortified. 

Shyly looking over as you're shutting the door, you think he will be glaring, but suddenly, he's letting out a loud chuckle. Then, you are both bursting into hysterical laughter. 

Three loud bangs knock on your door, and you two have taken a minute to silence yourself.

"She's… fun," Bucky finally mutters, making you almost snort. 

"You should try living next to her. It's a dream." 

"I bet.." he says slowly as he looks around the small living room. Taking the chance while he's looking around, you dart off to your room to grab your book and notes. You're trying to get back to him quickly, but not before sliding over to your mirror and fixing your hair; you're tempted to put on some lip gloss… but maybe that's too much. 

A quick flip through your book reminds you of where your book left off. Ah, right, the fight scene that ended with the main two characters kissing… this will be great…

“He feels his blood still rushing through his veins, the sweat drenching his skin in a desperate attempt to cool himself from the carnage. Screams and the crashing of metal continue to ring in his ears till he turns and looks at her. No longer does he hear all those voices. He just hears his heartbeat… it’s not a want; it’s a need as he walks over to her, scooping her in his arms and kissing those full lips that have always been so taunting.” 

You feel a shiver once Bucky gets through the last lines of the chapter. Hearing him read it makes it seem less cheesy. Though you still can’t get one question out of your mind…

“I wonder if it’s like that…” 

He stops looking from the book’s text to meet your gaze, “what?” 

As soon as the words slip from your lips, you regret not being more careful with your words. Bucky is the last person you should be asking about this topic. The public only knows fragments of his past, but even those snippets reveal that deeper issues are haunting him that you can only imagine. Bucky shifts on the couch, adjusting his posture from sitting wide-legged to leaning his elbows on his knees, almost hunching over.

Great, you made him uncomfortable; please, world, swallow you up and save Bucky from your obnoxiousness. 

“Everything feels… distorted; it’s a surge of many things all at once. You have to try to bring your focus back… but that blood-pounding rush lingers, making you exhausted but still ready to jump at a moment’s notice.” Bucky shifts his gaze awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands. “At least that’s how I felt…” 

You swallow, shocked he’s being so open… 

“So the kissing part is unrealistic?” 

You’re thankful that gets a laugh from Bucky, “Well, I’ve never kissed anyone right after a fight… but I can imagine if my blood was rushing hot enough, and the right girl was nearby… I would get carried away.” 

Dammit… Why is that hot? 

“Well, if you ever do it. Let me know?” 

“Don’t worry, you will be the first to know…” Bucky replies so simply… but you can’t help how it makes your whole body feel suddenly hot. 

It’s quiet for a beat before he’s readjusting to lean back, trying to look comfortable. “Okay, your turn; read your favorite part.” 

You’re not sure if you should curse the universe... or be extremely grateful, but either way, it does not change the fact that Bucky is stowing away at your apartment to do some silent reading. A week before you two were supposed to meet at Bucky’s place for book club, loud construction started happening near his building, and he just couldn’t concentrate because of the noise. So, considering you’re his book club buddy, he asked if he could come by to catch up on some reading.

Of course, you said yes, then frantically started cleaning and prepping like you would for

a book club meeting. You’re excited but also extremely nervous!

The apartment is silent, aside from the sounds of soft breathing and the slow turns of the book’s pages. The calmness is comfortable; you were worried that the time would have been filled with awkward rambling ... but it’s not; you two had fallen into a quiet routine. It makes sense that you get more comfortable when two people spend time around each other. However ..... When you peek over to look at him taking up So much space on your sofa .... You feel sparks of electricity pop through your veins. His eyes locked to the text, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. His scruffed jaw in a lock and his full lips completely perfect.

It’s not until you see his tongue slightly lick his bottom lip that you break from your trace and realize you’re not even reading. You just staring at Bucky. Silently, you curse yourself for your shamelessness, but that only causes Bucky to quickly look up and meet your eyes. Oh, so suddenly you dart your face back to your book and try to hide that you were, in fact, leering. Of course ... it was in no way sublet, but Bucky is too much of a gentleman to say anything about it.

With the crisis averted you try to take in the book, even flipping the pages to reread a bit to familiarize yourself with what’s happening in the story. Blah, Blah, Blah, they are alone in the library together… finally starting to pay attention ... But unfortunately, old habits die hard, and before you can stop, you’re peeking for a glance again.

Creepy? Maybe, but it’s been a while since you spent time with someone silently like this. Plus, Bucky is beautiful, and getting to watch his little tics from how he lightly flicks the colored tabs with his thumb, and when he’s really entranced in the text, he slightly leans into the book, almost like he needs to read closer to really catch everything. Then suddenly… Bucky’s expression changes. You watch his eyes widen in surprise, and he sits back up fully straight. Of course, curious, you quickly scan some pages before finding the source of his surprise.

“And what do you think you’re doing on your knees, princess...” He grits through his teeth, watching as her dress billowed all around her and her hands slowly traced up his linen trousers. Inching towards where his cock is starting to strain the cloth.

“Trying to show my devotion to my knight...” She says innocently while pulling the ties.

Before she is done, he steadies his breath and comes back to reality, “You shouldn’t waste such sweetness on a man like me. I will ruin you.”

Considering his words, she pauses momentarily before looking back into his blue eyes, so dark in the library’s candlelight. It all becomes clear for her once more: her desire, her love for him.

“Then ruin me and forever mark me as yours…” From the look in her eyes, he knows She’s not. wavering

A good man would halt this and deny her... but he’s weak... and his love for her outweighs his rationality. He pulls the ties of his pants before gently he roughly grabs her and pushes…

- Oh my god!

Okay... it’s not like you haven’t read Smut in front of people before... but this is your crush... reading the same thing…

Embarrassed, you look up from the text, shutting the book only to be met with his eyes. You two stay locked for a moment, trying to ignore how both of your faces are starting to flush. Bucky’s eyes roam down to where you’re currently clenching your thighs. His light eyes suddenly get darker, and on the inside, you’re begging for him to spread you apart. But in your sudden nervous panic, you chuckle instead. Bucky matches your nervous chuckle with his own, though his is undoubtedly smoother. “These books love to just get to the point, huh? It and these situations... the p-positions, definitely unbelievable.” 

You try to laugh off the whole thing, but to your surprise, Bucky doesn’t laugh. He shrugs while fidgeting with his book.” Not that unbelievable... I could easily lift you to my shoulders and not even waste a breath.”

Suddenly, the whole room feels like it’s shifted to its side. Was that a proposition? Maybe it’s just a statement? He is built, so he could lift you with one arm while the other rips.... - No! No! 

Unsure where to take the conversation, you say the only thing that can come to your mind. “I’m going to drink water.”- Smooth...

Mentally slapping yourself, you walk to the kitchen and down some cold water before scrounging for something stronger. Maybe he was starting a discussion? But, of course, you ruin it by going into horny territory.

What if that’s the point, though... You freeze, feeling your heart rushing all over again...

Ahem...

You don’t even need to look up to see that it’s Bucky, standing in the kitchen doorway with a guilty look, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable... I didn’t realize how it sounded like a... proposition till it was out of my mouth, and I saw the look on your face. I mean... not that I wouldn’t... Want to, to um... show you.” Bucky hesitates again, “Wait, that’s not - well, do think you’re…”  

It’s perplexing... a deadly super soldier., stumbling over his words like he’s nervous...  You continue to watch him stumble, weighing your options..... Maybe putting everything out there will go well, or it will blow up in your face and ruin everything…

Letting your feet take over, you walk over to Bucky; as soon as you step forward, he’s putting his ice-blue eyes on you. He almost speaks again but gently places your hand on his broad chest before he can. Under your fingertips, you feel his heart racing despite his calm exterior. Bucky places his hand over yours, waiting till you’re ready to speak. He would probably stand her all night if he had to. But no, your mind’s made up, and the feeling of his warm skin on yours only cements it for you.

“I want you to show me... everything.”

It’s all Bucky needed to hear before gently touching your cheek and trailing his fingers down your jaw. His concentration flicked from your eyes to your lips as he slowly leaned in. Finally, his full lips met yours as he brushed a gentle kiss on yours. Then he kissed you repeatedly, letting his hand slide into your hair as the kiss grew more starved.

You wrapped your hands over his neck, standing on your tiptoes to tangle your fingers through his dark hair. Without hesitation, Bucky leaned down, grabbing the back of your thighs to lift you closer. With you wrapped around his waist, he seeks more of your taste as he traces the softness of your lips with his tongue, begging for entry. Parting your mouth, you feel his tongue slide along yours in a perfect slowness that only adds to the heat between your legs.

It was sweet and desperate and only made him even more drunk with want. Bucky blindly walked with his lips locked, wandering to find your bedroom. He bumped and crashed into everything till, finally, you broke the kiss with a desperate panting.

“Hallway, left door...” 

“Right, right…” he says through lidded eyes before kissing and licking against your mouth once more. 

The super speed must be one of his other abilities because before you knew it, you were in your bedroom, pushed against your wall as his tongue traced down the column of your throat. And his hands slide down from your waist to tease the hem of your shirt up. You run your fingers through his hair as he sucks along your collarbone, leaving his marks, waiting to finally feel his hands on your skin.

He’s so close. He wants to lift your shirt but hesitates. “Bucky, please, take it off... touch me…

Bucky feels weak from your desperate pleading. Wants to touch you, feel you, head into the crock of your neck, further getting fuck you. He rests his drunk on you. As you’re about to plead again, suddenly you’re lifted forward, and your shirt is ripped from your skin; your bra, bottoms, and panties couldn’t be saved, however, as he tears them off you.

With your clothes discarded, Bucky paints, staring down at your naked body reverently before hosting you up to kiss your soft breast and run his hot tongue over your nipples. Both his hands help pin you to the wall of the bedroom. The contrast of their touch is intoxicating. His warm flesh hand cupping and pinching your breast for his mouth to lick. While the cold of his metal arm keeps your legs spread, inching further to your aching core, making you moan in the excitement of that erotic pleasure of filling you with his cold fingers.

Your moaning is debauched and needy; you’re quick to cover your mouth to silence yourself, but Bucky needs to hear you. Bucky moves your hand from your lips, “No, I need to hear you screaming for me. Come on, Don’t hold back...

For added measure, his metal fingers finally brush through your pussy, dragging your slick all over your sex. It’s so cold it makes your nipples harden, and a shivering moan rip from your throat. He looks into your lidded eyes, memorizing every noise you make as he teases your quivering slit with his two fingers, Then harshly pinches your clit, making you jerk your hips. 

 “Never Imagined you would be so sensitive like this...” He rubs rough circles over your cunt, making you slam your head back against the wall as your grinding hips beg for more. “You like it there?” He says roughly into your ear before pinching your swollen pearl once more.

“Yes! Fuck yes! please, Bucky…”

He pulls his hand away from your sticky cunt, you whine from the loss of being so close, but your complaint dies in your throat as he licks his metal fingers shining from your arousal. “Ready, princess?” 

You nod completely at his mercy. Bucky quickly lifts you further up the wall, putting your legs over his shoulders as his face noses into your puffy cunt. He really can do any position with you. Bucky’s nose rubs your clit, making your legs clamp, then his tongue licks a slow strip over your wet folds, making you say his name... 

The sound of his name leaving your lips has him losing himself to taste more. Moving his tongue into your drooling cunt, trying to drink in every drop in and out, making your whole body ignite with a fever as your breaths come out in long surrendering moans. Lost in the passion, you grind your hips against his sinful tongue, losing your mind as he groans in approval.

 You’re close to your peak, ready to let it snap and crash over you till loud slamming starts knocking against your wall... You feel Bucky growl, and you’re scared he’s going to stop... but instead, he moves his mouth to suck and nip at your clit, making you keen louder as he slams his fist against the wall back in what you’re considering a warning... 

Sorry, Mrs. and Mr. Green... you will send over cookies… or not… You can’t care right now as the coil in your stomach tightens till a snap is felt in your veins, and an electric rush is aching through your whole body. Legs shaking, your body loses control as you cum all over Bucky’s eager tongue. Bucky lets you ride out your high over his tongue till it’s approaching overstimulation. He pulls away from you, his chin soaked, and as he lowers you down gently to your unsteady feet, you still see that hunger in his eyes, which still remains.

He whips his mouth before licking the remnants away from his hand, “Which position next?” 

He asks with a smirk, and you feel another surge of heat burst through you to your “M-might be boring... but the bed?”  

Bucky looks from you to your metal framed bed and chuckles, “Just don’t be mad if I  break it...” - Wait. What?

You can’t ask for clarification on that last statement because Bucky is already turning you to the queen-sized bed with a quick tap to your ass. “Lay down and touch yourself for me...”

His honeyed voice instantly makes you feel needy as you fumble into the mattress, spreading your legs wide and slowly rubbing your clit as you watch Bucky strip. His skin is beautiful, scars and all... Immaculate is the best way you can describe him from his bulging muscles, chiseled abdomen... and his cock straining, already glistening at the tip. The noise that leaves your lips is involuntary and makes Bucky smile shyly as he removes his underwear. Bucky strides closer, keeping his eyes on your dripping cunt, “Oh, I love the sounds. Please keep them coming.”

He crawls over your body, completely overwhelming you with the heat, sight, and smell of him. Everything was now James Bucky Barnes, and it made you spread your legs wider for more. Bucky leans down, brushing your lips with his in a filthy kiss, “Tell me you want it, come on, Sweetheart... Please, I need to hear that sweet voice beg for me, for my cock…”

You feel yourself grinding on nothing just from the sound of his sweet desperation, “Bucky, please ... I need you... need you to fill me up…”

Bucky catches your hips in a bruising grip lifting them, forcing your back to arch as he lines up his thick length, “So good to me...” he says, almost in a daze, before his rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your slick before pushing into your tight cunt.

As Bucky's cock finally stretches you open, you wrap your arms tightly around his neck as the intense stretch makes you gasp in sweet agony. It's music to Bucky's ears as he takes his time pushing down each inch to the base, filling you completely. Your cunt clenches on his length, allowing you to feel every burning curve and vein as they rub your raw insides down to your cervix. The drooling tip of his cock licking against that tender spot inside you, forcing your toes to curl.

His thrust starts out as slow and soft before his breathing starts to pick up, and he slams his hips into you faster and faster. Your bed begins to squeak with a whine, but he keeps his pace steady and desperate for the sounds of your high-pitched moans as he moves in and out of your snug cunt.

Every thrust is hot and tingling as he alternates from fast and rough with his hand on your throat to soft, slow rolls of his hips hitting deep as he kisses you gently. It's all building to that familiar tensing you felt when he had you against the wall. Bucky starts to pick up his pace, holding your hip with one hand as the other grabs the metal frame, banging against the wall.

Your eyes roll from him being so deep, managing to open your eyes for a moment. You see Bucky flushed, with his eyes locked on yours, while he holds in his primal groans with each clench of your wet cunt. The sight makes you gasp, holding him tighter and bringing your legs to wrap around his waist. You move your hips in time with his thrust till your core starts to burn, and his groans form into delish moans that only strengthen your resolve to fuck against him faster.

Bucky's cock throbs as he kisses along your skin, his breath hot and frantic as it blows over your sweating skin. With a final thrust, you feel the white-hot wave of pleasure flood over you in an instant, It not only burns through your body but your mind as well till it is clouded in an orgasmic haze. Bucky shudders at the feeling of you cumming against his cock, with a moan that sounds almost like a whimper, his hips still, the throbbing more frantic like a heartbeat as you feel your cunt filled with thick squirts of cum. Looking up at him, so lost in his pleasure, he looks so soft, his eyes doe-like and lidded as his full lips are parted to allow him to gasp for short, stabilizing breaths. It's beautiful to see him this way.

You two stay still as you come down from your highs; Bucky slowly pulls out and lays his fevered body beside yours. He may not be in a full sweat... but there's definitely a sheen of it glazing his skin, and you feel pretty accomplished for wearing him down... even if it's only a little.

 Bucky takes his time clearing the two of you up and getting you water. As he walks in with water for you, you notice he's brought in the book and the colorful tabs you lent him. He settles beside you, getting underneath the sheets and pulling you closer before opening the book where he left off; Bucky starts to read like you two didn't just have mind-blowing sex.

You keep watching him till he drifts his eyes from the pages to your face, "Yes?"

 "You're really going to read right now? That's fine, but I'm surprised you're not exhausted."

Bucky laughs, "Well, I don't want to be behind for our next meeting. Plus, this way, I can tab some more positions for us to try."

[malum-forev]

Casual

Summary: a glimpse into your secret relationship with Bucky. The one he threw away.

CABNW!Bucky x Agent!Reader

“This is so, so wrong.” Bucky mumbles against your lips, hands tangled in your hair. 

“But it feels so right.” You counter, looking up at the heaving super soldier through your eyelashes. 

He wasn’t all wrong. It was heavily looked down upon for a senior member to fraternize with a younger trainee. But who cares when the two of you are under the influence of heavy alcohol and worn out from your most recent mission?

It should’ve ended after that. You were supposed to be a one night stand. But Bucky couldn’t get you out of his mind. And what bothered him the most was that you seemed unfazed. 

“Was it not as mind blowing for you as it was for me?” Bucky says in between deep thrusts, the wrinkle between his eyebrow creasing.

“What?” You ask breathlessly. A second ago you were on a mind numbing roll heading toward climax and now, he’s completely taken you out of it with just a couple of words. “What are you talking about.”

He dives deeper, making your eyes roll back. “You’re the best I’ve ever had in decades, and you just acted like I was average.”

You have to stop yourself from laughing. “Didn’t we agree that we were going to keep our little meeting low key?” 

“Low key doesn’t mean forget about it completely.” Bucky says with a huff. 

Your eyebrows raise. “You want recognition.”

“I want you to admit I’m the best you’ve ever had.” His voice is gravelly, his eyes scan your face like he’s trying to catch every single movement in it. 

“And if it wasn’t?” You challenge. 

“Then you’d be lying.” He trails his vibranium arm over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“How do you know?” You whisper. 

“Because I was right there with you, doll.” He smiles against your lips, driving his hips up. 

A couple of hookups turned into him leaving an extra set of clothes at your place. Supposedly he only did it to make your meet ups more efficient. But you knew that the Sergeant was lying to you, and to himself. Every morning he’d make his way through your kitchen, making two coffees and cleaning up whatever you’d left the night before. 

A few months later, you cleared a couple of drawers for him. And Bucky gladly left his favorite Henley’s at your place along with his infamous leather jacket. 

Neither one of you knew what this was but you were having fun. And that’s what counted, right?

You liked moving up the ranks without having anyone undermine your work just because you’re sleeping with Bucky. And he liked not having to be vulnerable in front of other people. 

But soon, months turned into years. And before you knew it, Bucky was bringing you flowers every Friday and staying over more days than not. 

He’d share his fear of navigating the new world without a clear purpose. And you’d talk about how this job made you feel lonely most of the time. 

Your fellow agents would always try to set you up with whoever they knew. You’d politely decline the blind dates, not missing the way Bucky would give whoever would be your potential date, a tougher routine. 

And Bucky, well, no one was really trying to set him up with anyone. 

But your favorite part was work functions. Galas and charities where the two of you would act like strangers only to go back home to the same address. It was like a game for you two, until it wasn’t. 

“Sergeant Barnes,” you nod your head, ordering a cocktail at the bar. 

He tilts his head. “Agent.”

You should have known something was off, his eyes were dull and his voice sounded tight. But you assumed it was just because of the setting. Bucky never felt comfortable in places like this. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask under your breath.

“Nothing,” his voice is clipped. 

A photographer comes close to you two, holding up his camera and getting a picture before either one of you could object. 

“Delete that,” Bucky snaps. “Now!”

“What’s gotten into you?” You hiss, waving away the innocent photographer. 

“We can’t be seen together.” His blue eyes look everywhere but yours. “It’s not good for my image to be with a former widow.”

Your jaw slacks. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Sure, Bucky had expressed some interest in running for congress but you never thought he was serious. And between constant missions and Bucky staying back, you weren’t quite up to date with the man you’ve been seeing for three years. 

“I hired a publicist,” He shoots a look back to a man standing close to Sam. “He recommends I stay away with my former team. It looks better for my campaign if I focus on the future, rather than the past.”

“The past?” Your breath gets caught in your throat. 

Bucky looks down at the floor. 

“So us…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. 

“Us?” Bucky raises his eyebrows, questioning all those years of you two. 

You scoff. “Drop the act, you know what’s between us.”

“Look, these years have been nice,” Bucky gulps. “But we both knew that we were just playing around.”

“Playing around?” You raise your eyebrows, a knot forming in your throat. 

“Casual.” He shrugs. 

“Was it casual when you chased after me in Bangladesh?” You challenge. “Was it casual when you asked me to stay because you wanted to feel me at night? Was it casual when you said you loved me?”

Bucky finally looks at you. “You have to understand, congress means I can make an impact-“

You finish off your drink. “Listen to me, James Buchanan Barnes, this is the last time I let you speak to me. From now on, we’re strangers—better yet, you’re dead to me.”

“C’mon, it doesn’t have to be like this,” he tries to hold your hand but you escape his soft grip. 

“Good luck, Congressman Barnes,” your eyes get glassy. “I hope you get everything you want.”

You never look back, not wanting to let him see how much he hurt you. 

Author's Note: hihiiii please remember I posted the first chapter of my book All For The Crown, it's on my page. I'd love it if you guys could take a read and leave me a comment! Thanks as always for all the love! My asks are always open!

[haflacky]

Midnight after the mission

[starboye]

starring: bucky barnes x male reader

request: Hi can I request a Bucky x bottom male reader smut? Bucky and male reader are on a mission. Observation. Male reader gets horny watching Bucky play with his knife.

warnings: smut, knife play sorta, cursing, degradation, slight choking, creampie, unprotected sex

it was a boring mission, take out the target, no witnesses and get out, for now it was a stake out right across the targets house just waiting for him to leave so you both could get the jump on him.

"hand me my drink" you ask with the binoculars held up to your eyes "no do it yourself" bucky scoffs "you're zero help you know that right" you complain grabbing the cup and taking a sip from it.

"so are you, why do they even pair us together" bucky questions to himself "because they need someone to handle your aggressive ass" you laugh leaning back into your seat "whatver" bucky mumbles pulling a butterfly knife from his pocket.

it just looked so good dancing around his fingers it had you infatuated, not even noticing you were staring at him he snapped at you "hey" he his fingers made you jolt up a little "what" you try to act chill "oh my god are you turned on by me playing with a knife" bucky chuckles watching your face flush red.

"no" you terribly lie, he leans closer to you "don't lie you know you like it" he whispered with that deep gruffy voice that you lowkey could cum to "fuck you" you try to say back but the words get stuck in your throat when he grabs you by the neck, his cold metal hand creating goosebumps on your skin.

"we could take this to the backseat" he offers and you could think of nothing else other than nodding yes, skip to him having your legs over his shoulders and his cock slamming into you making the car rock back and forth with every thrust.

while his hand settled on your throat, broken moans and whimpers falling from your mouth "such a good cock slut huh shoulda known it with all that bratty attitude" he chuckles to himself looking down at you taking his length each time like a pro>

"how do you know how to fuck so good" you question his impressive skills seeing as he was a human popsicle for a good portion of 108 years "i got around a lot in my younger years" he smirks, his other hands pressing to fingers into your mouth to shut you up so he can focus on the beauty of your ass in front of him.

you were drooling all over his fingers in an instant with no shame, moaning like a bitch in heat while bucky just fucked you deeper into the seats "buckyyyy" you whine "use your words" he coos tilting your head up to be on eye level with him, as much as you tried to turn away he turned your head right back to him.

"who knew some dick could get you so whiny" bucky teases you making your hoe tighten around him to which he notices "what, that get you excited, how you like getting degraded by me hmmm, so pathetic right just a dumb broad for some dick right" he teases you more and more up until you cum hands from just from him.

"fuck you" you huff "oh you wish whore" he slams his cock into you a couple more times before painting you gummy pink walls white "there you go, is that what you wanted so bad" he scoffs pulling out from you "and good for you, the target hasn't moved yet so clean up and gt back on duty" he pulls up his pants and gets back in the front seat while you watch him, secretly wanting more of him.

(i want him to finger me with that metal hand)

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 18

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Dark, Mystery, Betrayal.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

Ransom exhaled through his nose, watching Bucky from the corner of his eye. He didn’t miss the way Barnes was looking at you—sharp, assessing, possessive. A slow smirk crept onto Ransom’s lips. That look meant one thing.

Bucky wanted something. And Ransom had never been one to let an opportunity slip through his fingers.

Without taking his gaze off Bucky, Ransom reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He rolled it between his fingers before handing you a lighter.

“Light it for me,” he said casually.

You hesitated for a second before taking the lighter. With a flick, the flame ignited, casting an orange glow against your fingers. Ransom leaned in, bringing the tip of his cigarette to the flame. The brief moment made him feel closer to you. He inhaled slowly, the embers glowing brighter, before exhaling a stream of smoke.

He had done this on purpose.

And just as he expected—Bucky turned and walked away.

Ransom chuckled under his breath. “He’s mad about you.”

You scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, taking another drag. “He kept bringing you up when discussing the recent audit.”

Your stomach twisted. “How much do you two actually discuss?”

“Everything. The hotel, the road, and the most recent? The hospital.” He tapped the ash from his cigarette. “It’s already halfway built—should be open next year.”

Your pulse quickened. “Who’s going to run it?”

“The local guy. Dr. Tony Stark.”

Your fingers curled into a fist at your side.

Tony Stark.

The man responsible for nearly killing your father.

Your mind spun. A hospital under his control meant one thing—patients wouldn’t be treated. They’d be test subjects. A place meant for healing would become a graveyard.

Ransom studied you, his smirk fading. “Your face just now… like you smelled something rotten.” His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp. “What is it?”

You kept your voice steady. “Every town needs a hospital. But if Stark’s in charge, this one will be a slaughterhouse.”

Ransom exhaled smoke, but this time, his easygoing act was gone. When it came to business, he didn’t take risks. If something could jeopardize his investments, he’d dig until he found the truth. He wouldn’t let himself sink with the ship.

His voice dropped lower. “What exactly has this doctor done?”

“He nearly killed my dad. Misdiagnosed him, pumped him full of unnecessary meds.” You met his gaze, unflinching. “What would you do if a doctor did that to your family?”

Ransom’s jaw tensed. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. “How’s your dad now?”

“The moment he stopped taking Stark’s prescriptions, he started getting better. Alan’s overseeing his treatment now.”

At the mention of his family doctor, Ransom gave a knowing nod. Then, his lips quirked up—but there was no amusement in it.

“Why stop there?” he asked. “The Y/N I know wouldn’t half-ass this.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Ransom—”

“I’ll call the Health Ministry. Get Stark’s medical license revoked. What he did to your dad is enough to put him behind bars.”

Your breath hitched slightly.

You didn’t say thank you often.

But this time, you meant it.

“…Thank you.”

Ransom flicked the ash off his cigarette and gave you a small smirk. “Don’t mention it.”

Here’s the revised version with smoother grammar, more body language, and an intensified thriller/mystery tone:

Ransom exhaled smoke slowly, watching you with an unreadable expression. Then, he gave a small shrug.

“If I were in your position, you’d do the same for me.”

Before you could respond, a voice cut through the conversation.

“Should we continue the tour?”

Bucky.

His sudden presence sent a chill down your spine. You hadn’t even heard him approach.

Ransom smirked. “Perfect timing. Sadly, there’s a prick that could stop our negotiations.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed slightly. “What could possibly interrupt the deal?”

Ransom flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his shoe. “I don’t want a killer doctor running the hospital.”

Bucky’s expression faltered for a fraction of a second. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah,” Ransom said smoothly. “I always dig into the details before investing in anything. And this one? This one’s crucial. It’s people’s lives on the line.”

A beat of silence.

Then Bucky’s face smoothed over, back to his usual unreadable mask. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll find another replacement.”

Ransom chuckled. “Quick decision. I like it.”

“In fact,” Bucky added, glancing between the two of you. “I have the perfect person for the job.”

Then his gaze settled on you.

You froze.

“No,” you said flatly.

“I agree,” Ransom interjected. “She’s not suitable for this. The director needs a medical background.” He shot you a side glance. “Besides, I don’t want her staying here. I want her back working for me.”

Your stomach twisted.

The way he said it—like you were something to be reclaimed, something that belonged to him.

Bucky tilted his head slightly. “That’s too bad,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “I’m sure she’d do a great job.”

“What do you think, Y/N?” Ransom asked.

You forced a polite smile. “That’s a generous offer. But I’ll decline. I prefer to go back to the city. My dad’s there for his treatment.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

If Ransom hadn’t come, you wouldn’t have bothered coming back at all. And now, all you wanted was to get him out of this town before it pulled him into its web.

A tense silence settled between the three of you.

Then Ransom clapped his hands together. “Oh yeah, I’m curious about the casino.”

Bucky’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he forced a smile. “I’ll show you.”

Ransom turned to you. “You should talk to the others. They’d love to hear your insight.”

You gave a small nod. “Sure.”

Without another word, you walked away.

Bucky watched as you disappeared into a crowd of former colleagues. It didn’t take long before you were surrounded, everyone hanging onto your every word, nodding, listening—admiring.

It was almost laughable.

Because right now, you were the one with status, with influence.

And he—James Barnes, once the golden boy of this town—stood on the outskirts, watching. Like an outcast. No friends, the only thing that hasn't changed is that he still has the money.

Just like he had been in high school.

Life was unpredictable.

“You two sure are close,” Bucky said casually.

Ransom smirked. “She’s my office wife.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed.

Ransom noticed. And he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Whenever I’m not in the office, she handles everything. I trust her completely.” Ransom’s smirk widened. “You like her, don’t you?”

Bucky exhaled through his nose. “I can’t forget her.”

“Good luck with that,” Ransom said, amusement laced in his voice. “After all the shit she went through growing up here.”

Bucky said nothing.

Because he knew.

He knew why you never gave him a chance.

And that’s exactly what he was trying to change.

Ransom flicked his cigarette away. “I’ll put my investment in the hospital on hold. But for the toll road? We should move forward.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Sure.”

But his mind was somewhere else.

On you.

You stood in the lobby, arms crossed, your foot tapping against the marble floor. The air smelled of polished wood and fresh coffee, but your patience was wearing thin. Ransom was taking longer than expected.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone familiar.

"Hey, you're back!" Jake’s voice carried over the low murmur of the lobby.

He looked surprised to see you, his usual easygoing grin tugging at his lips. But you didn’t return the smile. Instead, you grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a quieter corner, away from prying eyes.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Jake asked, raising a brow.

You scanned the area, making sure no one was listening, then leaned in. “I need a favor.”

Jake smirked. “You, asking me for a favor? This must be serious.”

“It is,” you said sharply. “I need you to ask your mom about everything. Thor. Natasha. The mayor. Tony.”

Jake’s smirk faltered. His mother was the town’s most reliable source of gossip—if something was happening, she knew about it.

He exhaled. “You really think something’s off?”

“I know something is.”

Before he could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention.

Ransom and Bucky stepped into the lobby together.

“He’s inviting us to see the hospital,” Ransom announced, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Hoping it’ll change my mind. Why not?”

Bucky’s expression remained unreadable.

You swallowed back the unease creeping up your spine.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The hospital was already halfway finished. The structure loomed above the town like a monument to progress—or something else entirely.

The group stepped into the elevator, the cold metallic walls reflecting your tense expressions.

Bucky pressed the button for the seventh floor.

“The hospital will have fourteen floors,” he explained as the lift ascended. “Top-tier equipment, specialists from the city, private VIP suites…”

His voice was steady, confident. But there was something calculated about the way he spoke—like he was carefully choosing his words.

When the doors slid open, the group stepped out onto the seventh floor. The air smelled of fresh cement and sawdust, the hallways still unfinished.

Bucky continued his explanation, gesturing toward different areas. “This wing will have the latest diagnostic technology. We’ve brought in the best doctors to oversee patient care. State-of-the-art surgical rooms—”

A sharp voice cut through the air.

“So that’s it?”

Everyone turned.

Tony.

His face was twisted in barely contained rage, his hands clenched into fists.

"You promised I’d be the hospital director! That’s the only reason I came back!"

His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. There was a wildness in his eyes, a man pushed to the edge.

Your stomach twisted. You knew he’d be angry when he found out he wouldn’t be hospital director—but this? This was something else.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Bucky said evenly. “But we need someone more qualified.”

Tony let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Bullshit. This was mine—I deserve this.”

Then you saw it.

The gleam of metal in his hand.

A knife.

Before you could react, he lunged.

You barely had time to move—your breath hitched—then—

A blur of movement.

Ransom.

He stepped in front of you, shoving you back—

The knife slashed—

A cry of pain—

Then the world tilted.

Ransom fell.

You watched, helpless, as he plummeted down the open space between floors—

“Ransom!” you screamed.

The seventh floor erupted into chaos.

Someone shouted for help.

Your heart pounded as you bolted toward the edge, peering down.

Sixth floor.

He’d landed on the concrete below, unmoving.

You ran.

Your pulse roared in your ears as you practically threw yourself down the stairwell, your vision blurring with panic.

When you reached him, your breath caught in your throat.

Blood.

A pool of it forming beneath his head.

“Oh no…”

Your hands trembled as you crouched beside him.

His eyes were half-lidded, his breath shallow.

“You piece of shit,” you choked out, pressing down on his wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “I won’t forgive you if you die.”

Somewhere above, Bucky was shouting orders.

But all you could hear was the frantic pounding of your own heart.

🏥🏥🏥🏥

Ransom stirred, his eyelids heavy, the world around him a blur of sterile white. A dull, aching pain throbbed through his body, but the worst of it radiated from his back. His throat felt dry, his head thick with the haze of medication.

Then he saw you.

You were sitting beside him, your hands clenched together in your lap. Dark circles framed your eyes, a clear sign that you hadn’t slept much. The moment his gaze met yours, your shoulders sagged with relief.

“You’re awake,” you whispered, exhaling sharply, as if you had been holding your breath for hours.

Ransom tried to smirk, but even that took effort. “Yeah. You look like hell.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, reaching for his hand but stopping just short of touching him. Instead, your fingers hovered over his, hesitant. “You almost died, you asshole.”

“Yeah, well… I didn’t.” His voice was hoarse.

Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and a doctor stepped inside, flipping through a clipboard.

“Mr. Drysdale,” the doctor began, his tone professional but firm. “Your fall caused severe damage. Your kidney took the worst of it.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed. “But I don’t—”

His body ached, sure, but nothing felt that severe. He had only fallen one floor. He had been through worse—like the time he crashed into a rocky slope while skiing and tumbled off a small cliff. That had left him bruised and battered, but it had never damaged his kidney.

Something didn’t add up.

You cut in, your voice quieter but knowing. “I see.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more—the injury or the fact that you already seemed to know something he didn’t.

The doctor sighed. “It’s a miracle you’re still alive. We’ll need to operate on your knees as well, but first, we need to focus on stabilizing you. You need to get stronger before we move forward with surgery.” The doctor hesitated before adding, “Mr. Barnes will cover all medical expenses.”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed. “Barnes?”

He shifted slightly, wincing as pain flared up his spine. Sure, his knees hurt, but his back was far worse.

Still, he forced himself to remain composed. He wasn’t about to show weakness.

“Tell Barnes I really appreciate it,” he said finally, his voice even but edged with something unreadable.

The doctor nodded, then exited, leaving the two of you alone.

Silence stretched between you.

Ransom swallowed, his throat dry. “Y/N… I—”

“Don’t say anything, Ransom.” Your voice was soft but firm. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

He watched you carefully, something flickering behind his tired blue eyes.

You meant it.

And that terrified him more than anything.

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[makehydrafictionagain]

Oh. my god

[reckless007]

Omg 😍

Soft spot

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Alpine is determined to gain access to your room while you are resting.

Warnings: Bucky’s conversation with a cat lol; Bucky being jealous of a cat; fluff; feelings; Bucky is a sweetheart

Author’s Note: I just needed to write a little something and this came out. Hope you enjoy! Also, I probably will be posting the next chapter of like a Phoenix tomorrow.

Masterlist

“Nah, Alp, c’mon now.”

Bucky sets his mug of tea down on the kitchen counter with a quiet clink - he never used to drink tea before moving in with you, but living with you changed that.

The little white kitten Bucky and you adopted from the shelter a few months ago paws insistently at your bedroom door, tiny claws scratching against the wood. She lets out a sharp, impatient mewl.

Bucky sighs, before striding over to her hurriedly and scooping the little ball of fluff into his arms before she can make more of a racket.

“Alpine,” he warns, almost too firmly considering he is talking to a cat. “Cut it out, yeah? You’re gonna wake her up.”

The kitten wiggles in his hold, clearly unimpressed. She meows again. Loud. Indignant. Bucky huffs a laugh through his nose, shaking his head and scratching her behind her ear.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, glancing at the closed door to your room. “Ya miss her. But she’s had a rough couple weeks, alright? Stress n' exams, you know, the whole damn deal. She needs the rest. Can’t have you climbin’ all over her like the little menace you are.”

Alpine stares at him with those big blue eyes, as if she understands every word but refuses to accept the reasoning. Another sharp meow, this time more of a protest.

Bucky sighs dramatically, shifting her into one arm and rubbing her chin. “Yeah, yeah, don’t gimme that look. I ain’t the bad guy here, buddy. Just tryna let her sleep.”

Alpine doesn’t seem to hear a word.

Before Bucky can react, the little furball twists her tiny body and slips right out of his grasp, landing softly on the floor.

In an instant, she is back at your bedroom door, paws crawling, tail flicking, and meowing like she is under torture.

Bucky groans quietly, dragging his hand down his face. “Jesus.” He crouches down, resting his forearms on his knees as he watches her.

He reaches out, rubbing slow and soothing circles on her soft white fur. “You just wanna be near her, huh, girl?” His voice is softer now. He sighs, deep and heavy, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I get that.”

Because Alpine loves you. She doesn’t hide it - follows you everywhere, curls up in your lap, meows until you give her attention. She’s got no hesitation when it comes to showing how much she adores you.

And that is what Bucky envies.

Because Bucky loves you too. He just can’t show his affection that outright. He’s your best friend. Your roommate. And that’s the part that stings.

He would do anything for being able to show you how much he adores you without crossing the line he is afraid to.

His chest tightens long enough for him to really feel the ache and he stands up, exhaling through his nose with a resigned breath.

“Alright, you little punk,” he mutters, shaking his head as Alpine turns those blue eyes back up to him. Expectant.

Slowly, he reaches for the door handle, giving the kitten another warning glare. “Just for a quick visit, yeah? No bouncin’ on her. No wakin’ her up, got it?”

Alpine meows.

Bucky huffs, pushing the door open carefully.

The small cat whooshes past Bucky the second the door cracks open, a blur of white fur darting straight for your bed. He barely stops himself from calling out, biting back a curse as he runs a frustrated hand down his face.

Damn cat’s got a one-track mind.

But he can’t really blame her. You’re on his mind probably even more often.

He steps inside, deliberately avoiding the creaky floorboards. He’s been in your room often enough to have memorized them by now.

Alpine reaches your face and bumps her small head against yours with a high chirp before rubbing along your cheek.

You don’t stir in your sleep.

Curled up on your side toward the direction of the door, hands tucked near your face, you’re completely dead to the world, your breaths slow and even.

Bucky guesses the stress from the last weeks must have finally caught up to you because you don’t even twitch when Alpine starts licking at your fingers.

“Alpine,” he whisper-yells, stepping closer, ready to scoop the little cat up and drag her outside before she wakes you.

But Alpine starts to circle, once, then again, before settling right against your hip, tucking herself into a comfortable little ball. She lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Bucky stops in his tracks, hands on his hips, shaking his head with an amused smirk on his lips.

“You’ve got no idea how jealous you’re makin’ me right now, Alp.”

Something tugs and turns in his chest, watching the way you sleep so peacefully, completely unaware of anything. Of how easy it is for Alpine to curl up against you and claim you like it’s the most natural thing to do.

He lets out a breath, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Alright,” he utters in a whisper. “Guess I’ll just stand here like an idiot while you get all the cuddles.”

Alpine flicks her tail.

Bucky stands there for a moment, arms crossed loosely over his chest, just watching you.

The way your brows are at ease, your face soft and relaxed - peaceful and serene in a way he hasn’t seen in too damn long.

And oh how it calms something deep inside him.

The past few weeks had been brutal on you. It was a mess of late nights, long assignments, and that damn stubborn streak of yours keeping you from slowing down, no matter how many times he told you to.

You pushed yourself too hard - always do - and every time it drives him up the wall.

He hates seeing you stressed and he did what he could. Brought you tea, draped blankets over your shoulders when you were too caught up in your work to notice the chill. Left food by your side when he knew you’d forgotten to eat.

And you accepted it all - gave him those sweet little smiles accompanied by a thanks, Buck in that soft voice of yours that always knocks the wind out of him - but you never really listened.

Never listened when he told you that pushing past exhaustion isn’t the solution. That not having a clear head is worse than not being prepared at all.

But now you are finally resting.

For the first time in what feels like months, you are letting yourself breathe.

And Bucky feels like a weight is falling off his shoulders, a tension he was gripping finally loosening.

He exhales a deep, relieved sigh, raking a hand through his hair.

Alpine stirs slightly at your hip but stays balled up, her soft purring filling the room beside your deep breaths.

It’s then that Bucky notices the book half-tucked against your arm. You must have been reading before finally crashing, trying to quiet your mind enough to let yourself sleep.

He steps closer, cautiously, eyes flickering to your face to make sure you don’t wake up.

For a second, he worries it’s one of your damn textbooks - because if you fell asleep studying for god knows what now, he is going to have to give you some words.

But as he leans over you slightly, fingers brushing the covers and gently pulling it away from your arm, he lets out a pleased breath. Just a novel. Good.

He carefully marks the page, folds the book shut, and sets it on your nightstand.

Bucky straightens, and he knows he should walk back out - really, he should - but his eyes stay on you a little longer. He almost feels like some kinda creep just standing here, watching. But hell, he can’t help it.

You look so damn adorable with your little pout. So damn beautiful with your hair falling just so, features so soft, color in your cheeks.

His breath hitches unintentionally and his pulse skips, his heart only a trembling thing in his chest.

Taking in a deep breath, he takes a hold of your blanket and gradually tugs it up over your shoulders, up to your chin.

The fact that Alpine gets dragged along with it and the grumpy chirp she lets out gets ignored by him. She glares at him in annoyance but does not move from her spot.

“Mhm… Buck…?”

Your voice is thick with sleep, soft and drowsy, and it nearly knocks Bucky off balance. Literally. His foot catches on the floor and he stumbles slightly, heart lurching in his chest like the idiot he is.

His gaze snaps to your face. You blink up at him, slow and unfocused, brows scrunching in confusion. Eyes half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion, your voice slurring slightly.

Jesus. You’re so damn cute like this.

Bucky clears his throat, forcing himself to school his expression. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he coos in a whisper, gentle and soothing. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” He shoots Alpine a pointed look, but the cat, as usual, doesn’t seem to give a damn.

You shift slightly, nestling deeper into the sheets, eyes fluttering shut again. Without thinking, Bucky brushes his hand through your hair, over your cheek in slow and soothing motions to coax you back into sleep.

You hum in contentment. That little sound does something to him, settling deep within him.

And hell - if his heart doesn’t clench at the sight of you like this. So soft, so sweet, so damn beautiful it hurts.

A lightness swells beneath his ribs. An airy flutter dances.

He focuses on the way your breathing evens out, the way your body melts back into the bed.

And when he’s sure you’ve slipped under again, Bucky lets himself lean down, lips ghosting over your temple in the lightest of touches, giving you a soft kiss. He lingers just a second, long enough to whisper against your skin, voice barely more than a breath.

“Sleep tight, doll. You better dream of me.”

And with one last glance, so full of longing, he forces himself to pull away. He lets Alpine stay with you, despite the fact that he wants to be the one who gets to do that.

But he slips out of the room as quietly as he can, shutting the door behind him with a faint click. Leaving with you the racing of his heart you caused and the ache of something he isn’t sure he’ll ever have the guts to say out loud.

“Her, because she makes life poetry, she turns every bit of it into art.”

- butterflies rising

[whatonearthbro]

crimson eyes | season1rivals!bucky x reader

warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, no smut, bucky calls reader doll once, no use of y/n, soft kissing, mentions of blood and wound, you stich bucky’s wound up

new york was as much as a hellhole figuratively as it actually was. vampires roamed the streets, and if it wasn’t vampires wrecking everything it was looters trying to get what they could to survive. you and barnes were housed together in a small, cramped apartment, as you have been for the past month and a half. there were two bedrooms, both painfully small. you got the ever so slightly larger one.

one night, bucky came home from a grocery run with a bloodied shirt. “what the hell happened? oh my god, are you ok?” you shot up from the couch and examined his arm, which was the source of the bleeding. “i’m fine. i ran into a little…problem.” he winced in pain as he put the bag down. he was bleeding out everywhere, and he still managed to bring your shared groceries home. interesting.

he sat down on a stool as you got a medkit to stich him up. he took his shirt off, and the wound wasn’t as bad as you thought. it was superficial, and it was pretty clean, thank goodness. but that wasn’t the main thing you were looking at. you were slyly looking at his chest every now and then as you stitched him up, his strong abs speckled with white hair, that gathered at his happy trail, which went lower and lower and..

“ow, fuck-“ bucky yelped as you poked the wound a little too hard as you were too busy checking him out. “shit, i’m sorry! lemme get you some tylenol real quick.” you stood up and made your way to the kitchen cabinet that hosted a couple of different medicines, and you found the pain killers. you looked back at the soldier. “do you want something to drink with this?” he looked back at you, and a bit of silence hung in the air. “water’s fine.” he said flatly.

you continued to stich him up for a couple of minutes, and the wound was completely sealed up for the most part. he had stopped bleeding mostly as well. “thank you for takin’ care of me.” he said quietly as you sat in front of him, wiping the dried blood softly with s gauze pad. “it’s my job. we’re here to take care of eachother, right?” you murmured quietly as he nodded.

“i found some things at the back of a walmart that wasn’t picked through for you. some candy and stuff.” he gestured at the bag that was filled with stuff, even a small plushie toy. you smiled excitedly and chuckled. “i..thank you. i didn’t even know candy still existed here, y’know..”

the two of you gazed at each other for a while. you felt you could get lost in those crimson eyes of his as they seemed to pierce your soul. the smile on his face faded. he placed his organic hand on your knee, and it rested there as he leaned in. a soft blush ran over his face. you could feel his warm breath on your face, and he looked at you with his one-quarter lidded eyes, “is this ok?” he whispered quietly. a hot blush rsn over your face too, and your cheeks flushed. “yeah.” you remarked in a hushed tone. with slight hesitation, he learned in even more and gave you a feather-light kiss. your lips met softly as you closed your eyes, and his hands moved to your hips.

he pulled back and looked at you again, a darker shade of pink now on his face. you put a white lock of his behind his ear as you said, “what was that for?” you muttered. “it was.. it was a thank you.” he kissed you again, this time with more pressure, and his metallic hand cradled your face as gently as it possibly could. you kissed him back, and tangled one of your hands in his snow colored hair. he sighed in the kiss, and kissed you back even deeper. his hand kneaded your plush waist as his artificial one rested on your collarbone. he broke the kiss, and he gazed at you as he licked his lips.

“you’re a good kisser.” he said as he got up. you watched him, wondering where he was going. he walked over to the walmart bag, and pulled out a king sized snickers. “wish i could of known sooner, though.” he smiled coyly and gave you the candy. “this is my favorite..” you smiled and stood up. you wrapped your arms around him, even though he somewhat towered over you. “thank you.”

he kissed your forehead softly and rested his hands around your waist. “you’re welcome, doll.”

[mintyys-blog]

What would you think about this?

Bucky with a super soildier reader both have been together post civil war . He figured out she wasnt from the modern era as she was taken by hydra from the 1930s then hid in america . She decived people cause of the serum she had didnt age her (so stuck in adult age) , no bulk muscle its as if shes suposed to be a stealth type . Fury did recruit her back in 2010 before steve was unfrozen

TIMELESS— bucky barnes x super soldier! reader

WARNINGS: mention of human experimentation, HYDRA.

The soft hum of an old jazz tune drifted through the quiet apartment, barely audible over the hum of the city beyond the window. Bucky sat on the couch, fingers absentmindedly working over the leather strap of his prosthetic, but his focus had shifted entirely to her.

She was drying a glass, movements slow and methodical, humming to herself—a song he knew.

Not because he’d heard it in a movie or on some vintage playlist, but because he’d lived when it first hit the radio.

His jaw tightened.

“Where’d you hear that?” he asked, voice calm but edged with something sharper.

She paused, glass still in her hands, then turned to face him. There was no flicker of surprise, no awkward attempt to brush it off. Just a steady gaze, as if she had been waiting for this moment.

“It’s just a song,” she said.

Bucky shook his head. “Not one people just know nowadays.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You hum that like it’s second nature.”

She set the glass down with a quiet clink before walking over to him. “You already suspect the truth.”

His gut twisted. He hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, not really. There had always been something off about her—something that had nothing to do with the super-soldier serum in her veins. She wasn’t just another enhanced operative; she carried herself with the kind of caution that only came from watching the world change around her for far too long.

Bucky exhaled slowly. “Tell me.”

She sat beside him, hands clasped loosely together. There was no hesitation when she spoke.

“Hydra didn’t just create weapons during the war,” she began. “They started long before that. I was one of their first. Taken in the 1930s, experimented on, enhanced. But I escaped before they could use me.”

Bucky didn’t move, barely even breathed.

“I disappeared,” she continued. “Lived through the decades, pretending to be something I wasn’t. Never aging, never settling. Then Fury found me in 2010 and gave me a new purpose.” She turned to look at him, searching his expression. “That’s the truth.”

Bucky swallowed. Of all the things he had been prepared for, this hadn’t been one of them. She wasn’t just a soldier—she was a relic, just like him. Stolen from a time that no longer existed.

His fingers curled against his knee. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because what difference would it have made?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Would it have changed the way you look at me?”

Bucky met her eyes, stormy blue meeting unwavering resolve. Maybe it should have changed things. Maybe it should have made her feel like a stranger.

But instead, it made her feel like the only person who might truly understand.

“Guess not,” he murmured.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t the only one trapped between past and present.

Silence settled between them, thick but not uncomfortable. Bucky let her words sink in, absorbing the weight of them. He understood what it meant to be frozen in time, to watch the world move forward while he remained unchanged. But unlike him, she had never had the mercy of forgetting. She had lived through it all.

Finally, he spoke. “So Fury knew about you before Steve was even pulled out of the ice?”

She nodded. “He found me in 2010. I wasn’t exactly hiding, but I wasn’t looking to be found either. Still, Fury had a way of knowing things.” A small smirk played at her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “He offered me a deal—work for him, keep my past buried, and no one would question why I never aged.”

Bucky huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Classic Fury.”

She shrugged. “It worked. People saw what they wanted to see—a highly trained operative with an unknown past. The truth never really mattered.”

Bucky studied her, noting the way her fingers twitched slightly against her knee, the only crack in her otherwise flawless composure. It hit him then—how exhausting it must have been, carrying this secret for so long, pretending to be something she wasn’t. He knew that feeling too well.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over hers, solid and grounding. She didn’t pull away.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” he said, voice quieter now.

Her expression softened just a little, and that was enough.

They sat like that for a while, neither rushing to fill the silence. Outside, the city pulsed with life, but in that moment, it felt distant—like something belonging to a world neither of them truly fit into. Eventually, she exhaled, breaking the quiet. “So… what now?”

Bucky thought about that. About everything they had both been through, about what it meant to have someone who understood. He didn’t have an answer—not yet.

But what he did know was this: she wasn’t alone anymore. And neither was he.

Bucky didn’t have an answer to her question, not right away. What now? Hell, he was still figuring out how to live day by day without feeling like a weapon waiting to be used. But the weight in her eyes told him she had been asking herself the same thing for far longer than he had.

So instead of speaking, he just squeezed her hand—a silent promise that they’d figure it out together.

She didn’t pull away.

Eventually, she shifted, leaning back against the couch, her body relaxing just enough to tell him that—for once—she wasn’t keeping her guard up. “You realize you’re the only person who knows the full truth now?”

That hit harder than he expected. Fury had known, obviously, but he was gone. No one else would’ve questioned her past, not even Steve. It was easy enough to assume she was just another enhanced soldier, another name in the long list of people shaped by war.

But he knew her now.

Bucky let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s gotta be exhausting. Carrying that secret all these years.”

She smirked, but there was no humor behind it. “You get used to it.”

That sounded like something he would say. Another survival mechanism. Another way of pretending it didn’t hurt.

He watched her for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s a lie.”

That actually got a reaction—a flicker of surprise before she chuckled softly. “Guess it is.”

A beat of silence passed, the kind that wasn’t heavy but wasn’t light either. Then she turned to face him fully, expression unreadable. “You gonna look at me differently now?”

Bucky met her gaze without hesitation. “No.”

And he meant it.

Nothing about her had changed—only the weight of what she had been carrying alone. And now, she didn’t have to.

She studied him for a long moment before finally nodding, as if deciding to believe him. Then, with a slow exhale, she leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes.

For the first time since he’d met her, she rested.

Bucky just sat there, watching her, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like a ghost stuck in the wrong era.

Maybe neither of them had to be.

The shift between them was subtle at first—so small that if Bucky hadn’t been paying attention, he might’ve missed it.

She let her guard down more often, even in the little things. Like how she no longer hesitated before stepping into his space or how she started leaving a cup of coffee beside him in the morning without a word. It was an unspoken rhythm they fell into, a quiet understanding that neither of them had to be alone anymore.

Bucky, in turn, started noticing things about her—not just the way she moved like a ghost, always aware of her surroundings, but the moments when she let herself exist in the present. The way she tapped her fingers against her thigh when she was deep in thought, the way her lips twitched in amusement when he got frustrated with technology, or how her eyes softened whenever he let himself be vulnerable.

One evening, as they sat on the couch, a movie playing in the background, she spoke without looking at him. “You ever think about what you’d be doing if things were different?”

Bucky glanced at her, noting the distant look in her eyes. “You mean if we weren’t frozen in time and experimented on?”

A small smirk pulled at her lips. “Yeah. That.”

He thought about it for a second. “Dunno. Maybe I’d still be in Brooklyn. Maybe I’d have a family.”

She hummed, considering that. “You think you’d have kids?”

The question caught him off guard. He hadn’t thought about it in a long time. “I used to,” he admitted. “Before the war. Figured I’d settle down eventually.”

She nodded slowly. “I wanted that too. Once.”

Bucky tilted his head slightly. “What changed?”

She exhaled through her nose, something almost like amusement crossing her face. “Seventy years of being a ghost will do that to you.”

He understood that too well.

After a moment, she turned to him, her expression more open than it had ever been. “But I don’t feel like a ghost when I’m with you.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that until now.

He reached over, fingers brushing against hers, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she laced her fingers through his, anchoring them both to the present.

Neither of them spoke after that. They didn’t need to.

They were still figuring things out, still learning how to live after years of merely surviving. But in that moment, sitting beside each other in the dim light of their shared apartment, Bucky knew one thing for certain.

Whatever came next, they’d face it together.

[furiousdinosaurdestiny]

You smile seeing Bucky was the one to bail you out of jail after a girls night out got a little to rowdy after you promised him before leaving the house you’d be a good girl.

[alexsl-universe]

Steve reaction at the end:

Tony: *walks into the room, infuriated*

Bucky: what

Tony: what did you do to my security system?!

Bucky: I changed it *sips his coffee*

Tony: *sighs at his nonchalance* How…did you do it?

Bucky: you want like a thesis or…?

Tony: *rolls eyes* I meant, why did you know how to do this?? We spent 2 hours teaching Steve how to change his phones ringtone

Steve: hey! It kept reverting to the default one *embarrassed*

Bucky: *snorts* that’s cuz it’s Steve, he hates technology, if it was up to him we would be writing our reports in hand with a quilled pen

Bucky: Also, I had to learn through my missions because failure was never excused

Tony: um

Bucky: they put me in cryo once for failing a mission that involved hacking into a security system so then the next time I had to make sure I knew what I was doing

Steve: *worried*

Tony: um ye-yeah that makes sense

Bucky: also you had cameras in our room, not cool

Bucky: *gets up from the table, about to leave the room* also I changed that weeks ago, and now the cameras are only active in your suite, so do with that what you will

Bucky: *starts to walk away * also, delete our footage unless you want yours to be public property

Tony: *blinks*

Tony: *hurrying after him* it was for security purposes!! Don’t walk away from me what footage do you have?! BUCKY!!

Peter: oh my god he is so scary

Clint: he is amazing

Steve: *proud*

[malum-forev]

More Than Casual?

Summary: After breaking up with Bucky, you thought you'd never see him again. That is, until you're required to make an appearance at one of the future congressman's events.

Part 1: Casual

CAABNW!Bucky x Agent!ExWidow!Reader

“You ready for the event?” Joaquin asks you as he throws a punch. 

“What event?” You huff, dodging the right hook. 

“Everyone on Cap’s team gets an invite to the White House.” He covers his guard. 

“Less talking, more punching!” Isaiah yells from the other side of his training room. 

You’d heard about the event being held at the White House but you decided to turn off the TV the second those familiar blue eyes were displayed. It was too early to see the man who still made you shiver. 

“Not going.” Is all you say, throwing him a rogue kick with more force than necessary. 

“You’re missing out on the event of the year for what? Ordering in pizza?” He laughs, but you take the opportunity to kick the center of his chest, making Joaquin fly across the room. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Isaiah hollers. 

You help your partner up. “What if I have plans?”

“Plans?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Are you finally opening your heart to love?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart sinks a little. You’d successfully gone weeks without thinking of him and now, with just a couple of words, he’s back in your mind. Pulling at your heartstrings so tightly it makes your chest cave in.

It wasn’t Joaquin’s fault, he had no idea that the man who’s being honored at the event is the same person who tore your heart to shreds. 

“I just don’t feel like going,” you manage to get out. “I much prefer to fight and protect, rather than prance and drink.”

——

“What’s this I hear about you not going to the gala?” Sam casually says a few days later. 

You choke on the water you’re drinking. 

“That serious, huh?” Sam jokes. 

You shake your head. “Doesn’t sound like something that I’d be interested in.”

Your words are careful and strategic. But trying to think of the perfect excuse while your team leader looks at you so inquisitively is almost impossible. 

“I’d be nice,” he shrugs. “To go out and support Buck.”

The nickname sends a chill down your spine. 

You called him that same name for years, especially when you wanted to tease him. In front of others you’d always referred to him as Sergeant. But in close encounters, especially when you wanted him to plead for something, you’d call him just that. Buck. 

It never failed to make you think back to when he was a kid. You’d beg him to see pictures, you knew he had a couple printed out after the rediscovery of the Howling Commandos files. 

“You’re looking at the best version of me there is, doll.” He’d always say. “No need to dwell on the past.”

But you knew it was because part of him was always scared to look back. It made him remember he had a life before all of this happened. 

“I’m busy that day.” You mutter, picking up the report on the desk. 

Sam crosses his arms. “I haven’t even told you when it is.”

You stop in your tracks. 

“Is there something else that’s bothering you?” Sam asks carefully. He knows perfectly how to deal with guarded agents. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

You hum.

“So, I hope to see you there, Agent.” Sam narrows his eyes. He doesn’t need to use the words for you to know it’s an order. 

You nod your head without another word, leaving the conference room before your anxiety rises more through your body.

——

“You’re pretty amped up for someone who didn’t even want to come!” Sam yells over the loud music playing inside the limo sent for you. 

You don’t look back at him as you tip the vodka bottle, letting the clear liquid coat your throat.

On any other day, vodka wouldn’t be your liquor or choice but today, you need all the courage I can get. And in terms of fucking you up the fastest, vodka is the way to go. 

You can barely feel your heel poking your foot by the time you step out. 

Your eyes inadvertently scan every square inch of the room, not looking for anything suspicious but looking for the man who you’ve been dreading seeing. 

It’s bad enough his posters are up on every lamp post.

You make a beeline towards the free bar cart, Joaquin hot on your heels. 

“Sam sent me over to babysit you,” he leans on the edge of the cart. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say sarcastically, sipping on the martini the bartender set for you. “I’m having a blast.”

Both your eyes travel down to the napkin the bartender passes you, his ten-digit phone number neatly scribbled on the paper. 

You turn it over without looking at him.

“What happened to opening up your heart to love?” Joaquin whispers, looking back at the bartender. 

“I don’t have time for love.” You mutter, swirling the olives in your drink. 

He twists the cap on a water bottle before passing it to you. “You’ll never have time for love, if you don’t make time for love.”

“Who died and made you the team’s hopeless romantic?” You eye him. 

“Steve.” He shrugs. 

Joaquin goes on and on about love but you can’t hear him anymore. Because the second you look over to the other side of the room, there he is. 

Time stands still, and your legs threaten to give out.

Bucky’s changed so much since the day you said goodbye forever. His eyes have dulled, turning into a muted blue like the sky on a rainy day. His hair looks polished, but you know better than anyone else he hates how it feels. “I love it when you run your hands through it,” he used to murmur against your lips. “Makes me feel free.” But most importantly, his expression lacks that liveliness it used to have. The wrinkles near his eyes would deepen the second his lips would stretch into a smile. And it almost always came with a: “You have no idea how much I missed you, Doll.” 

Unsaid words stretch between you two. Your eyes say all the talking needed. 

Bucky’s eyes travel from yours, down to your left hand, where you’d always wear a vibranium bracelet that he’d gifted you. It had pieces of his old arm in it. Bucky used to say that after The Winter Soldier, he wanted nothing to do with him. Until he met you. He liked when you wore it because it reminded him that even with his past, he could still deserve someone as loving as you. 

You rub the spot where the bracelet used to lay. 

“You don’t deserve me anymore,” you whisper. 

“D’you say something?” Joaquin looks up at you.

You shake your head, ripping your eyes away from the man who caused you unspeakable hurt. But not before noticing how his expression hardened as he looked at the man standing next to you. 

You recognized it immediately. It’s Bucky’s signature: I want to rip your head off look.

And it had everything to do with the way Joaquin was rubbing your shoulder. 

“Torres, we’re friends, right?” Your eyes bounce from Bucky’s azure to your partner’s brown. 

“Yeah,” he eyes you suspiciously. 

“Could you pretend to be my boyfriend?” You get out before you can regret the words. 

Was it immature? Yes. 

Did you want Bucky to feel at least one ounce of the hurt you felt? Also yes. 

“Why?” Joaquin’s eyebrows furrow. 

“I hate these events because, as you can see,” you flip over the napkin with the bartender’s number on it. “Men always get the wrong idea. So, can you just act like you’re my boyfriend?”

“Is this some kind of test Sam put you up to?”

You pinch your lips together. “Sure.”

“Man! I’ve been waiting for an undercover mission,” he shimmies happily. 

“But you have to pretend with everyone, okay?” You look back at the future congressman who’s making his way towards the two of you. “And make it believable.”

Joaquin smooths down his lapels. “You got it.”

Not even ten seconds later, Bucky stands between you and Joaquin with a scowl on his face.

"Agents." He looks at both of you like he's done so many times. But now, his gaze holds Joaquin's for a second longer.

"Congratulations." You raise your glass to him.

"I haven't won, yet." He doesn't look away from the brunet to your side.

"By the looks of it, you're going to sweep the floor with all the other old bozos around here." Joaquin smiles, playfully shoving the super soldier's shoulder but he doesn't budge. Not one bit.

"Could I take her away from you, it'll only be a second." Bucky asks like you're Joaquin's property.

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to ask him."

"As your boyfriend," Joaquin not-so-subtly raises his eyebrows at you. "I approve of your parting."

"We're not in the regency era you doofus." You whisper as Bucky leads the way.

"I haven't been anyone's boyfriend in a long time! I don't know how to act!" He whispers back, throwing his hands up.

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asks the second you're away from everybody else.

"Trust me, I didn't want to be here." You let out a dry laugh, pulling a cigarette from your bag and lighting it up.

"I mean, what are you doing here with him?" Bucky narrows his eyes toward your partner. "What's this? A debutant ball for your new relationship?"

"Why would you care, anyways?" You take a drag, liking the way the smoke coats your mouth.

"I don't care-I-I just-" Bucky runs a hand down his face.

"Look James," You watch as his PR guy paces around the ballroom, looking for the man who is standing in front of you. "It's best if you go back inside."

"I can't." He looks down at the floor. "I can't just leave you out here smoking alone."

A genuine laugh rips through you.

"That's the promise you're keeping up?" You raise your brows, laughing harder as his expression tightens. "Out of all the promises you made me, that's the one you're going with."

"This isn't-" He tries but you interrupt him.

"Tell me what this is?" You push for him to spill what you know is on the tip of his tongue. "What? Was this summon a friendly one? Or did you want to bring me out here just so you could see if you still had it? That power you had over me."

"N-no." He stutters over his words.

"I'm happy now, James." You let out more smoke. "And it's killing you to know that."

"I just don't know how you did it!" He finally snaps. "You come here, looking amazing like always, with another man next to you. Acting like what we had was-"

"What we had was casual." You repeat the words he said. "Nothing more."

"Was it?" His blue eyes lock into yours, tumultuous like the sea.

"Yes." You lie.

"Then why do I feel like this?" He runs a hand through his hair, messing up his perfectly combed hair.

"I don't care, Barnes." You drop the end of your cigarette on the floor. Bucky lifts his foot to step on it, just like he'd done a million times before, only for you to do it first.

You turn on your heel but Bucky stops you.

"Whatever we had is in the past, and I intend on keeping it that way." You look at him over your shoulder, hating the way his gaze still makes your heart squeeze and his touch makes your skin heat.

"I should leave, Congressman." You say through gritted teeth. "Wouldn't want to give the wrong impression to all the voters around here. "

Authors Note: Hiiiihi! Thank you so much for the love on pt. 1! As always make sure to like and comment. Alsoooo I posted the first chapter of my book, it's on my page. I'd love it if you guys could give it a read. And if you'd like to support me, make sure to give me a follow on my ig and tiktok: @sophiabazar_author, I'll be posting all book related content on there! I'll be posting chapter 2 soon! If you'd like a part 3 to casual make sure to comment!

Tagged: @erinallene @the-bucky-one @unaxv @kodzukenie333 @g1g1l @hanacheryl @ironwinnerwonderland

[shamrockqueen]

Strong and gentle

Pairing : Warrior prince Bucky x Timid Princess Reader

Warnings : R18, Teasing, Clit stimulation, Virgin reader, Orgasm denial

Word count : 2459

Bucky masterlist

He proved to be a warm light, drawing you in like the tiny moth to be burned by his flame. Yet, he never let you get burned by his fire, keeping your soft, velvety wings intact while showing you a new tantalizing dance with danger.

What an innocent little moth you were at first. So surprised, wrought with vapors at the sight of someone so much taller and older, with a personality and confidence that befitted a well-traveled and well-aged Man. He was no prince you had ever seen, a warrior that was cut and marred with aging scars along his skin. His eyes held no innocence while still gazing upon you with warmth and gentleness. You were so soft and plush compared with the deep callouses he carried both on his skin and in his weighted heart.

You shied away from him almost immediately. If your mother had accompanied you here, surely you would have been hiding behind her skirts.

You felt so terribly out of place at his side. So small, like a tawdry bauble. To be an opulent pearl, pinned to his collar with all the others. But, he never treated you as such, taking care to soothe your anxieties instead.

The many extra years he had over you was what made him so different. It was years of experience both in the political torment within his kingdom and the expansive world that sat far beyond its reaches.

But, he found it cute, endearing, soft, and especially delicate. He wanted to crack you, only a little, make you just the smallest amount sharp so as to be the edge that could cut him without losing your admirable shape.

He’d tend to your garden, watching with earnest as your flowers finally bloomed before him. Your beautiful hidden rose unfolding before his very eyes as you finally opened up to him. Slowly, but tantalizing without pushing your last boundary down just yet.

It would be his own fault, for it was he that made an awful monster out of you, coaxed it with his fingers and his tongue without having to break you open and ravage the rest of your innocence. He made you dirty, sullied by lust and yet still so pure.

You lifted the soft lace of your nightdress, pressing your knees and thighs apart and spreading yourself along the bed, nearly kneeling as you pulled the fabric up to show the soft skin of your legs to him in the dim candlelight. This is what you’ve been reduced to, tempting him, using your body as sweet succulent bait so as to seduce that feral side of your darling betrothed.

He stepped along the cold stone tile of your shared facilities, each large and hard muscle of his legs pinching with every slow stride, and you watched as the taut muscle of his buttock dimpled with a quick flex.

He was hard marble turned to flesh, a statuesque warrior brought to life before your young eyes.

Could he crack you with the simple twist of his wrist? Possibly. But, he’d never be so callous with you. He knew you to be delicate and pushed you only as far as you allowed so as to keep your clean porcelain from cracking. He knew his strength and knew even better how it was best controlled.

His skin was marred and scarred, years of pain littering a man you know to be so gentle and equally devilish.

He turned back through the open door to see you, baring more of his body to your hungry gaze. Soft but still long, growing as you engulfed his view.

“What are you doing, little one?” He asked as if he didn’t have a very good idea as to what you were playing at.

You pushed your round, soft, and still covered ass back and arched your spine, making your supple breasts more prominent through the nightdress. “Tempting you.”

“Tempting me?” He chuckled, a blissful smile pulling along his darkened pink lips shadowed by the stubble of his beard. “You needn’t do anything more than exist to be a temptation.”

“Is that so?” You giggled, letting the bottom of the lace gown fall back against the bed, blanketing your legs once more.

“You weren’t serving yourself like this to me when I was first inveigled by your charm. You had even tried to hide that beautiful skin from me our first night.”

“I still am, in most ways, quite tame. Aren’t I?” You spoke with the smile pull of a pout at your lips.

“You seek to be tame, and yet you tempt. What a curious creature you are.” He folded his previous sentiments, like a note creased and tucked away for a later rebuttal, choosing instead to counter with his previous musings. He already missed the sight of your bare thighs, smoothed by the drag of a pun ice stone over your now silky skin and doused with sweetly scented oils.

“Is this your way of begging?” He asked, smiling with something akin to both joy at your flowering devotion with the drip of thick honeyed desire at the mynx he’d made you to be.

“Pleading, more like.” You said back, lip wobbling with a needy lilt to your voice.

It sent small jolts of something hot, burning even, along the ridges of his back. It made his skin vibrate as it rushed with blood, filling and stiffening his already long member. It was like the buzzing feeling in the air after a crack of light preceded by the roar of booming thunder on a dry night. You made something tempered, like melting stone, glow within him more and more with each dalliance.

“And how is it that I deny your pleas?” His voice rumbled with a soft purr of any predatory animal.

“You must have far more self-control than I, my love.” Your voice was like the tired mewl of a spoiled cat, something soft and easily overindulged.

“I don’t agree.” He mused back, anchoring his knee to the top of the plush bedding before leaning in towards your wicked smile. He nipped up at your roseate lips, playfully prying them apart to wet his little bites with the tip of his warm tongue.

You giggled, turning your head only a fraction at the tickle of his pink muscle. He’d chase you back even at a fraction of an inch to devour your sweet cherubic laughter. You were such a sweet, innocent rabbit, not seductive but still incredibly desirable, and he wanted only to ravish all of it.

Once he can lock the two of you together, lips pressed tightly and tangled with the dip of his head, he steals from you a kiss, slow and delicious.

Like lapping up fine honey from your tongue, he tasted every inch of you that you’d lend to him.

He was intoxicating, stealing the very breath from your lungs to lighten your mind and making your sway and limpen to his hold, still keeping you aloft. Your nimble little fingers danced drunkenly along his neck, tangling upward into his thick dark hair until they were tied into very roots. As your pearly teeth clashed with his, the knocking crystal with the tapping of nerve endings, you curled your fingers against his scalp.

Your nails dug inwards, and he felt the small sting at the back of his head as the hair was pulled into your building fist.

He was only amused, wincing slightly as he continued to take your quivering tongue between his teeth to suckle at the pink muscle before lapping at it with his own.

You were heavy, hanging ivy in his arms, begging for light to peel your limp leaves. Begging for air before you could feel faint and fall from his fingers. He pulled his lips with a long drag, nearly pulling you back with him. Your hands fall from his thick locks to catch the crook of his elbows so as not to fall against the sides of your night dress.

“Bucky. Please.” The pet name rolled along your little tongue so sweetly, tipping back and falling into the soft bedding. He followed, blanketing your body with his, cradling you against the hard plains of his stomach as it pressed to your soft belly.

His large hands met the little bit of your leg that peeked from beneath your night clothes, dragging his fingers further along your skin and slipping underneath the fabric. The dress was bundled, balled into his fist

before being pulled upwards to slip away from your arms and past your head.

You laughed, both nervously and amused, as he brought out more of your bare body to lighten the room.

A little hook of his fingernail catching the seam along your small cotton undergarments. Your nimble digits caught his own to stop his insistent tug at the only barrier left to your chastity. He had coaxed them off of you before, stripping you bare so as to taste you. He can still remember the last time you allowed him to lap at you, lick up your sweet nectar, and even tease your entrance with the tip of his thick tongue.

He had lavished at your soft petals and even teased at your little hidden seed. Pearly, round, and sensitive when provoked into swelling just a small amount. True to his word, he never breached your supple opening, nearly dipping but never breaking through.

His previous kiss has left you lightheaded, but this was something sobering enough to brush his fingers away. “No, Bucky.”

It was your only request. No matter how far you let him wander, you’d always stop him short of taking you fully. You were still a good princess, and even though your betrothed would pull you closer and closer to the edge, you knew the final leap would have to wait until the night you are both finally wed. You strived to stay pure both for and against James.

Your hands had flown towards him in a frenzy and flutter of worried fingers, stopping him from tearing the cloth away while the throbbing pink tip of his member bobbed so close.

But, James was a man of his word. He respected your vow while bending its boundaries all the same.

“I won’t, darling. I promise.” He chuckled, always amused by your acts of modesty.

“What I have in mind will feel wonderful, my doll. Trust me.” His rosy lips bloomed with a gentle smile, not devilish intentions to push you any further than he knew you’d be willing to go in the end.

He will please you, leaving you damp and needy after meeting a shattering end. You lay back, skin flushed with warmth as you let him pull your dainty white undergarments away, sopping and soaked with the thick drip of slick that pooled from the opening of your succulent flower. This time he was determined to play too, pressing his bare member so that the tip rested on the wet channel, spreading the dew along your dampened petals.

“You promised,” you pleaded again, blubbering to not have your flower plucked just yet. It would be the last boundary you could keep after he tempted you into breaking all others.

Your whine was needy, deliciously pathetic, and he had to stifle his next bout of soft laughter. “And I intend to keep my promises. Patience, my love.”

No, this time he slid himself along your folds, bumping the head of his furious member against a small hidden node at the top of your folds.

That little bundle of nerves nestled above your cunt, semi-hooded and yet swollen with your pent-up desire. That would be his object of torture; he’d glided his cock over your dampened pool of a pussy, coating himself in slippery slick as the head of his longer member slid over that little pearl until you burst and bubbled with the sharp squeaks of pleasure.

You simply melted, your voice humming that beautiful tune as your legs began to tremble with each stroke of his cock over your tender pearl. To send a tickle of pleasure over your core and along your belly with each push through. It made your flower shiver at its center, being teased with something it had to be denied. It begged all the same, as it was only ghosted with the press of his member, only to slide further and knock your perked bud. Working your flower to slowly bloom along his shaft.

“You sound so sweet. For my ears only.” His voice rumbled with a low pur, arms tightening around your bending body as his hips continued to drag himself along your soft folds. It was a true homage to his self control to not break his vow when presented with something so soft and beautiful. Even as he pressed himself so closely, with the singing of praise by the crack of your weakened voice ringing through the air of his room, he did not break his vow.

It is a fight well fought to keep his own composure, but you are completely overtaken by his movements, already overwhelmed by being so close to breaking that barrier.

Quickly, you came undone, gushing sweet sticky sap all over his cock, dripping into the thatch of a thorny brush at the base of his twitching shaft.

He could laugh, finding pure joy at how little you could take before you were screaming to your sputtering end at his own hands.

He dribbled with his own nectar as he fought not to burst and pepper your soft tummy with a spattering of thick white seed. He would not lower himself to paint you with ropes of his warm semen like a common tavern whore meant to lick it up from your own skin as a cat would lap at spilled cream.

He loved you far too much to let you sink further into such depravity, so he let his moment to finish pass, watching you catch your breath instead.

He held the base of himself with a strong, tightly coiled fist to stop the blood from swelling and bursting. The better to will his own ending away so as not to scare you with an unnecessary mess. Only then did his heartbeat become steady, and he was able to breathe in relief before lying beside you.

Taking in the soft rise of your glistening, sweat-stained belly and the blissful pull of your sweet pink lips as they curled into a devious and yet tired smile.

‘What a wonderful wife you’ll make.’ It was a sentiment that would echo through his mind like a prayer each and every night he spent with you tangled in his arms.

[the-winter-spider]

Yours, Always | Part One

Steve x Reader, Bucky x reader

AU

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Angst, fluff

A/N: I know the major majority voted for This Love to be the next one I post buuuuuuut my gut was telling me to post this one. I will be posting on Ao3 soon to just because a few people messaged me about it!

As always i will still be updating my other stories i just have its easier for me to be creative when i have multiple things going. Next part of Say dont go soon!

Masterpost

---

The smell of tomato sauce fills the kitchen as you stir the pot, trying to focus on the task at hand. The garlic bread is almost ready, the pasta is done, and Steve will be home any minute. It’s a typical night, like any other night, but there’s something tugging at the edges of your thoughts, something that’s been there for days, weeks even. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it’s theres like this persistent knot in your chest that refuses to unravel. It's heavier than the typical weight you’re used to.

Lily’s laughter echoes from the living room, her voice a sweet hum in the background as you stir the sauce one last time. She’s watching some cartoon, probably the one with talking animals who save the world that you’ve memorized every word to by now. You glance at the clock. Steve should be pulling into the driveway soon. Everything is falling into place, just like it always does. Just like it should, just like you hoped for, just like you wanted.

It’s the kind of life you imagined for yourself, stable, predictable, good. And yet, lately, you feel like something’s missing. You don’t feel whole, but yet you haven't felt whole in years.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, and you wipe your hands on a dish towel before picking it up. It’s a text from your mom. You smile, unlocking the screen to see what she’s sent.

Mom: Look what I found! :)

There’s an attachment, an old photo, grainy and slightly faded. You tap it, and the image fills the screen.

Your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a picture of you and Bucky.

You were maybe eight years old, standing on the playground, grinning like it was the happiest day of your life. Your arm is slung around Bucky’s shoulders, and his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. His smile is lopsided, the same one you always knew, that mischievous gleam in his bright blue eyes. You had forgotten how blue they were. His hair’s a mess, sticking up in different directions, but it suits him. It always did.

The sight of it hits you like a wave, washing over you in a rush of memories you didn’t realize you’d been holding back. The sounds of the kitchen fade, the smell of the sauce disappears, and you’re not standing there anymore. You’re back there,, back in a time before everything got complicated.

You’re back in third grade, on that day when it all began.

It’s fall, and you’re seven years old, almost eight. Standing on the cracked blacktop of the elementary school playground. The air has that crispness that makes your skin tingle, and the sun is warm on your face, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy staring at the ground, clutching your lunchbox in both hands, wishing you could disappear.

They’ve been circling you for a while now, the group of kids from the fifth grade, the ones who always find something to pick on. Today, it’s you. Today, you're sure it’s your clothes, you were wearing one of your Dads old shirts it was huge and it had holes but it still smelled like him. Or maybe it’s your shoes, the ones that squeak when you walk, or the way your hair frizzes up when the wind blows just right.

You don’t know why they’ve picked you today. You never know. You just know that your throat is tight, and your hands are shaking, and you’re trying not to cry.

“Hey, Y/N,” one of the boys sneers, his voice sharp and cruel. “What’s wrong? Gonna cry again? You gonna run home to Mommy? Since you don't have a Daddy!”

You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears back. You’ve cried in front of them before, and it only made things worse. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry today, you were going to be strong, because you were strong, your Mom said so. But the lump in your throat is growing, and no matter how hard you try to swallow it down, it won’t go away, it never does.

They laugh, jostling each other, getting closer, their voices growing louder. You want to run, but your legs won’t move. Your feet feel like they’re glued to the ground.

“Leave her alone.”

The voice cuts through the taunting like a knife, sharp and clear. You blink, looking up, startled. The group of boys falls silent, and you see a boy standing just a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his face set in a determined frown.

It’s Bucky, he just moved here. You don’t know him at all.

He steps forward, planting himself between you and the group of kids, his chin held high, his blue eyes blazing with a kind of courage you’ve never seen before. He’s smaller than most of the boys, but he doesn’t seem to care. He stands there like a wall, like he’s daring them to do something.

“What do you want, Bucky?” one of the boys mutters, but there’s a shift in the air now. They’re not laughing anymore. They’re not pushing you around.

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. “I said, leave her alone.”

For a moment, the boys hesitate, glancing at each other. You can see the uncertainty flickering in their eyes, the way they’re sizing him up, trying to decide if he’s worth the trouble. And then, one by one, they start to back off, muttering under their breaths as they turn and walk away.

You stand there, frozen, your heart still pounding in your chest, staring at the boy who just saved you from what felt like the worst moment of your life.

Bucky turns to you, his expression softening as the danger fades away. “You okay?” he asks, his voice gentler now, like he’s talking to an old friend.

You nod, still too stunned to speak. You don’t know what to say. You’ve never had anyone stand up for you like that. You’ve seen him around school before, but you’ve never really talked to him. And now, here he is, looking at you like he’s been waiting for this moment all along.

“I’m Bucky, I’m new” he says, sticking his hand out like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

You blink, glancing at his outstretched hand, and then back at his face. He’s smiling now, that crooked grin that makes you feel like everything’s going to be okay. You reach out and shake his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

“Y/N,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“I know,” he says with a wink. “Wanna be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment, not sure if he’s serious. No one’s ever asked you to be their friend like that, so straightforward, so sure. But then you smile, and you realize that you want nothing more than to say yes.

“Okay,” you say, your voice a little stronger this time. “Yeah. Let’s be friends.”

And just like that, everything changes.

You’re still standing there, staring at your phone, caught in a moment that isn’t here anymore.

You can still hear the laugh that must have come right before the picture was taken. You can still remember the way the sun hit his brown hair just right, making it look lighter than it was. You can still feel the warmth of his arm around you, the way he always pulled you just a little closer, like you were his to protect.

Your fingers hover over the screen, tracing the shape of his smile. You were both so little.

You don’t even hear Steve come in.

The front door opens, closing softly behind him. A rustling of keys, a quiet greeting as he passes the living room. “Hey, kiddo.” You vaguely register Lily’s excited response “Daddy!” then something about cartoons and garlic bread, but you don’t move.

You don’t even notice when his footsteps come closer, steady and familiar, until suddenly, there’s a warm kiss pressed against your cheek, and his voice is right there so soft, loving. “Babe.”

You jolt slightly, blinking, the world around you snapping back into focus. “Huh?”

Steve smiles gently as he pulls back, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his blue eyes. You follow his gaze as he glances down at your phone, which you’re still gripping too tightly in your hands.

Before you can react, he reaches around you, his fingers brushing against yours as he zooms in on the photo. His voice is light, teasing. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen many childhood photos of you?” He tilts his head, grinning. “You’re adorable.”

A small laugh escapes you, though it feels fragile. He never saw any past your eighth birthday because they were all filled with him. You try to relax, try to be present, but the weight in your chest won’t let you.

Then Steve’s expression shifts slightly, the amusement fading just a little as his gaze moves to the boy beside you in the photo. “Who’s that with you?”

Your fingers tighten around the phone before you can stop yourself, your voice small. “Bucky.” The name lingers in the air, heavier than it should be.

And just like that, Steve stills.

He’s heard the name before. Of course he has. He knows the trauma you carry, the grief that shaped you in ways you never talk about. He knows about the years of silence, about the loss that still lingers in the spaces you refuse to acknowledge. Mostly from your Mom filling him in. He knows loss, that's why the two of you work so well, you both lose people around the same time but Steve’s worked through is, you though, you’ve just bottled it up.

But he’s never actually seen him.

Never seen the boy who once held your whole world in his hands.

Steve doesn’t say anything right away. His hand rests lightly on the counter beside you, his other arm brushing against yours as he continues to look at the photo. His silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy, thoughtful.

“He looks…” He exhales softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just… I’ve never put a face to the name before.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly tight. “Yeah.”

Steve shifts, turning slightly so he can see your face. His voice is quieter now, careful. “You never really talk about him.”

You don’t look at him. You can’t. Instead, you keep staring at the photo, at the two kids who had no idea what was coming. “I know.”

Steve watches you for a moment, his fingers brushing against yours again. He doesn’t push, doesn’t ask for more than you’re ready to give. Instead, he does what he always does, he gives you space to breathe. “You okay?”

The kindness in his voice nearly undoes you.

You force yourself to nod, to look away from the past and into the present, the man in front of you, the life you built, the warmth that should be enough. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I’m fine.”

Steve doesn’t look convinced. But he doesn’t call you on it, he never does.

Instead, he leans in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your head, his lips soft against your temple. “Okay,” he whispers. “If you ever want to talk about him… I’m here.”

You close your eyes for a second, inhaling deeply. You don’t deserve him. But right now, you just nod. “I know.”

And just like that, Steve lets it go.

He squeezes your hand before stepping back, moving to take off his jacket. He calls out to Lily, something about setting the table, and just like that the moment passes.

But your phone is still in your hand. And Bucky’s face is still staring back at you.

The sound of the oven timer snaps you back to the present, jerking you out of the memory like a splash of cold water. You blink, shaking your head as the kitchen comes back into focus. The sauce is bubbling, the bread is ready, and Lily is calling your name from the other room.

But your mind is still stuck in that moment, stuck on Bucky’s face, on the way he looked at you, on the way everything felt so simple back then. You glance down at your phone again, the old photo still displayed on the screen, and something inside you twists.

You haven’t thought about Bucky like this in a long time. You haven’t let yourself. There’s too much there, too much to unpack, and you’ve built your life carefully around avoiding those memories. But now, here he is, staring back at you from the past, and you can’t help but wonder how things got so complicated.

“Mommy!” Lily calls from the dining room, her voice full of impatience. “Is dinner ready yet?”

You force a smile, tucking the phone back into your pocket. “Almost, sweetie! Did you set the table?”

She runs off, and you turn back to the stove, stirring the sauce one last time. The garlic bread smells perfect, the pasta is ready, and everything is exactly as it should be.

The three of you gather at the table, the kind of scene you’ve played out a thousand times before. Lily’s already in her seat, bouncing in excitement, her eyes bright green shining as you bring the food to the table.

“Daddy! We’re having pasta!” she exclaims, as if Steve hadn’t already figured that out.

“Looks like it, kiddo,” Steve says, smiling at her. “How was school today?”

Lily launches into a detailed explanation of her day, who she sat with at lunch, what book her teacher read to the class, how she got to be line leader, and what game she played at recess. Steve listens with that attentive smile, nodding and asking just the right questions. He’s good at this, being present, being the father Lily adores.

You’re sitting there, your fork twirling spaghetti absently, but you’re not really listening. You’re watching them, but your mind is miles away. You can still feel the weight of your phone in your pocket, the picture of Bucky tucked away, waiting for you. His grin, his bright blue eyes… It’s all coming back, flooding your thoughts with memories you’d locked away for years.

You don’t realize how quiet you’ve gone until Steve’s voice cuts through the fog. “Y/N?”

You blink, snapping out of your daze, meeting his concerned gaze from across the table. “Hmm?”

He smiles gently, but there’s a crease of worry in his brow. “You okay? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

You nod quickly, forcing a smile that you hope is convincing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… tired, I guess.”

But Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you well enough to see through the surface. He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes searching your face, but then Lily tugs at his arm, pulling his attention back to her.

Dinner wraps up soon after, and you help Lily brush her teeth and get into her pajamas, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed animal. Steve reads her a bedtime story, his voice soothing and steady, and you sit beside him, offering a few smiles as Lily drifts off to sleep.

Everything should feel perfect. This is your life, your family, the life you’ve built with Steve. But as you head down the hall toward your bedroom, that picture of Bucky lingers in the back of your mind, pulling at you in ways you can’t shake.

In the bedroom, Steve pulls off his work shirt, changing into an old t-shirt as you start pulling back the covers. The familiar routine plays out just like every other night. But tonight feels different. There’s a distance you can’t seem to bridge.

Steve climbs into bed, settling against the pillows. He looks over at you, still watching, still noticing.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, softer this time.

You pause for a moment, trying to find the words. You don’t want to lie, but you also don’t want to open up a conversation that you’re not ready for. “I’m fine,” you say, hesitating only slightly. “It’s just… That picture threw me off.”

“C’mere” He says softly, pulling you against his chest. Steve doesn’t say anything for a while.

You’re still resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. His fingers trace lazy patterns against your back, a comforting rhythm that should soothe you.

But you can’t stop thinking about the picture.

The one still glowing from your phone screen on the bedside table.

The one Steve had looked at for longer than he probably realized.

The one where you and Bucky were standing under the summer sun, arms slung around each other, grinning like the world belonged to you.

But something about the moment lingers.

Maybe it’s because you know that Steve, for all his kindness, for all his patience, has never actually seen Bucky before.

He’s only ever known of him, the shadow of him, the weight of your grief, the way you never talk about him. And now, for the first time, he had a face to go with the name. It was his adolescent face and you thought what would he think if he saw his face the way you tried to forget. With his little stubble, that dimple on his chin, his ocean eyes, his smile, his everything. You could almost see it so clearly in your head but at the same time you couldn't. You didn't even remember what he sounded like.

You wonder what he thought when he saw it.

You wonder if he were to see other photos of you and him. The ones where the way Bucky would hold you, like it was the most natural thing in the world. If he would notice the way you were looking at each other, no just like best friends, but like something more.

Something that never had the chance to exist.

Steve shifts slightly, exhaling a quiet breath. Then, softly, he asks, “Do you want to tell me about that day?”

Your stomach clenches.

Not because you don’t want to.

But because you do.

You swallow, fingers curling into his shirt. “You really want to know?”

“I’d like to,” Steve says simply. “He was important to you. Is important to you. And I’d like to know more about him from you.”

It’s such a Steve thing to say. So genuine. So unthreatened.

And yet, past tense.

Was.

Steve didn’t mean anything by it. You know that. But the past doesn’t feel like the past. Not when it’s still sitting in the center of your chest, not when it’s still carved into the parts of you that never healed right.

But it’s not Steve’s fault. You know that. There wasn’t a malicious fibre in his body.

So you push the thought down. You swallow hard, ignore the lump in your throat, and nod.

Steve presses a kiss to the top of your head, then leans back against the pillows, waiting. Letting you take your time.

You close your eyes.

And you let yourself go back.

“Come on, come on, you have to!”

Bucky’s voice was breathless with excitement, his hands gripping yours as he dragged you through the crowd. The fairgrounds were packed, kids running with half-melted popsicles, parents struggling to keep up, the sound of laughter mixing with the distant hum of carnival games and the occasional crackling announcement over the loudspeakers.

“Bucky, slow down!” you had whined, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“No way, you’re gonna love this!”

You had barely caught your breath before Bucky stopped in front of the biggest bounce house you’d ever seen.

“Look at it,” Bucky breathed, his eyes wide with awe, like he was staring at something magical. “It’s huge.”

You had crossed your arms. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on.” Bucky turned to you, grinning that grin, the one he always used when he wanted to get away with something. “What’s the Fourth of July without a little fun?”

Before you could protest because you both knew you were about to, he was already kicking off his shoes, already climbing inside, and the next thing you knew, he was bouncing, laughing, calling your name, looking so happy it was impossible to say no.

So you kicked off your shoes, too. And the next ten minutes were pure chaos.

You had both gone flying across the inflatable floor, bouncing so high you nearly crashed into each other half a dozen times. Bucky had grabbed your hands at one point, spinning you in a circle, laughing as you shrieked, as if he could make time stop just by holding onto you..

You had been trying to get back to your feet, still giggling, when Bucky tripped, taking you down with him.

You landed in a tangled heap of limbs, and when you tried to get up, your face was way too close to his, your noses almost touching.

For the first time all afternoon, Bucky had stopped laughing.

For a second, you just… looked at each other.

“Bucky! Y/N! Time for pictures!”

Your mom’s voice snapped the moment in half, and you scrambled away from him, your face warm as you followed her voice. You were thankful for the bounce house because you were blushing like crazy you had almost had your first kiss with Bucky. All the girls in your class had already had their first kiss. But it felt too soon you were only eight so you were grateful for your Mom.

Bucky was still grinning like a fool when he caught up with you, his arm slinging around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Smile!” your mom had called.

And you had. You always smiled when Bucky was near.

Both of you, smiling, glowing, bright with childhood joy, frozen in a moment you’d never get back.

When you open your eyes, the room is quiet.

Steve hasn’t said anything, hasn’t moved. His fingers trace slow, absentminded shapes against your back, like he’s trying to hold you here, in this moment, in this life you built with him.

But your mind is still somewhere else.

Still in that bounce house, in the warmth of a Fourth of July that feels like another lifetime.

“My mom took that picture right after we got out,” you whisper. “We were covered in dirt, sweating, our hair was a mess. But we were happy.”

Steve exhales softly. “He sounds like he made you really happy.”

Your throat tightens. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “He did. He was my best friend.”

The words barely make it out.

Steve doesn’t say anything else. He just holds you, letting the silence stretch, letting you breathe.

But even in the quiet, Bucky’s laughter still echoes in your ears.

He leans over and kisses your forehead softly, his hand brushing against your arm. “I love you, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch. “I love you, too,” you say, and you mean it. Of course you love Steve but you also can’t help but mourn the love that never was, the one you lost.

Steve is asleep within minutes, his breathing slow and steady, but you lie there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The room is dark, the only sound is the faint hum of the heater kicking on in the hallway.

Your hand drifts to the nightstand, and before you can stop yourself, you reach for your phone. The screen lights up in the darkness, casting a soft glow on your face. You scroll back to the picture your mom sent, opening it again, staring at the image of you and Bucky.

You trace the outline of his face with your thumb, the memories of that day flooding back, the way he smiled at you like he’d always be there.

You never thought much about what life would look like without Bucky in it. But then, life happened. Choices were made. Time passed.

And now, here you are, lying in bed with your husband asleep beside you, staring at a picture of a boy you once knew, wondering how everything got so complicated.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting the memories swirl around you, but when you open them again, you’re still here. In this life. In this bed. With Steve.

You turn off the phone and place it back on the nightstand, the glow fading as the room is plunged back into darkness. But even as you close your eyes and try to fall asleep, that picture of Bucky lingers, imprinted on the inside of your mind, refusing to let go.

You wake up feeling… off. Not exactly sad. Not exactly anxious. Just off.

His face still lingers in the back of your mind, hovering like something unfinished, like a conversation you walked away from too soon. You try to shake it, try to focus on the morning routine, getting Lily ready for school, making breakfast while Steve drinks his coffee and reads the news on his phone. You go through the motions, plastering on a smile when necessary, laughing at Lily’s excitement over something one of her classmates said yesterday.

It’s normal. Everything is normal.

So why does it feel like everything inside you is unraveling?

“Beautiful?” Steve’s voice breaks through your thoughts. He’s watching you over the rim of his coffee mug, brow furrowed slightly. “You doing okay?”

You force a small smile, reaching for your own mug. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?”

You hesitate, then glance at Lily, who’s humming to herself as she doodles on a napkin. “I was thinking about heading down to visit my mom this weekend,” you say casually, stirring your coffee though you’ve already added enough sugar. “It’s been a while.”

Steve smiles, setting his cup down and reaching for your hand across the counter. His touch is warm, grounding. Safe. “That sounds nice,” he says, rubbing small circles over your knuckles with his thumb. “I know she’d love that. Do you want me and Lily to come with you?”

Guilt presses against your ribs. He’s always like this, so sweet, so thoughtful. You don’t deserve it. Not when you’re sitting here, pretending this trip is just about visiting your mom when, in reality, it’s something else entirely.

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I think I just need a little time.”

Steve studies you for a moment, searching your face like he’s trying to read between the lines. Then he nods, squeezing your hand before letting go. “Okay,” he says easily. “But promise me you’ll drive safe?”

You smile, relieved he’s not pressing because he knows why. “Always.”

He leans over, kissing your forehead softly. “Good.” Then he pulls back, grinning. “You know I’ll just be calling to check on you every few hours anyway.”

“Wouldn't have it any other way.” You laugh, but it feels hollow. You know you love Steve but why does it feel like a stranger’s hands are gripping your shoulders, turning you around, pulling you backward into something you swore you left behind?

The drive to your mom’s house is long. Almost three hours, but it feels even longer with your thoughts weaving in and out of the past. You keep the radio on, some soft indie playlist filling the silence, but nothing can drown out the memories creeping in. Especially when your mind starts to think of all the new songs you’ve added to this playlist, the ones he never got to hear, the ones you know he’d love but you’ll never get to find out.

It’s late afternoon by the time you pull into your childhood home. The house looks smaller somehow, though nothing has changed. The same mailbox, the same front porch with the wind chime that always scared you when you were little remind you too much of the horror movie sounds Bucky would terrorize you with.

You step inside, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and old books. Your mom greets you with a tight hug, fussing over you before leading you to the kitchen, but there’s an unspoken understanding between you. She knows why you’re here, even if you haven’t said it out loud. She knew the moment she sent the picture.

“So,” she says, setting down a cup of tea in front of you. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

You wrap your hands around the mug, staring down at the steam curling into the air. “I just… I was thinking about some old things.” You hesitate, then force the words out. “About Bucky.”

Your mom nods, her expression unreadable. “His letters are still upstairs. I never touched them. Everything is exactly where you left it”

A lump forms in your throat. “Thanks, Mom.”

She reaches out, squeezing your hand “Well I oughta run to the store to get some stuff for dinner!” She smiled before placing a kiss on your cheek and letting you go.

You barely register walking up the stairs to your room but here you are and the box is exactly where you left it.

It’s tucked away in the corner of your bedroom closet, buried beneath stacks of forgotten sweaters and high school yearbooks. Your hands tremble as you pull it out, settling onto the floor. Dust clings to the lid, and for a long moment, you just stare at it.

You shouldn’t open it.

You shouldn’t because the can of worms you'd open with it..

But your fingers are already moving, lifting the lid, revealing a neat stack of envelopes inside. Some are crinkled at the edges, others yellowing with age. Your name is written on every single one, in his handwriting.

You pick one up at random, your breath catching as you recognize the date, seven years ago.

Slowly, carefully, you unfold the letter.

Y/N,

I don’t know why I keep writing these. You never answer. I don’t even know if you’re reading them. But I guess it doesn’t matter. I still need to say these things, even if they never reach you.

It’s late here. The kind of late where everything feels too big, and I can’t sleep, I never can anymore anyway. The only thing keeping me sane is remembering home and thinking about you.

Remember that summer when we were sixteen? The one where we spent half of July sneaking into the lake after dark? You always said the water looked like liquid silver under the moonlight. I don’t think I ever told you this, but I remember the way you looked then. I mean, really looked. The way your eyes caught the light, the way your laugh echoed across the water. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sound as good as that laugh. I remember feeling so overwhelmed in that moment, so scared of the things I was feeling that I decided to pretend something grabbed my foot.

I also remember the way you shivered when the wind picked up, but you wouldn’t admit you were cold. You were stubborn like that. Still are, probably. I wrapped my jacket around your shoulders, and you gave me that look, you know the one. The one where you’re about to say something sarcastic but then change your mind.

I wanted to kiss you that night. Did you know that?

Of course you didn’t. I never told you. I was always too scared to ruin what we had. But I think about that night a lot. About if things would have changed if I had just kissed you.

It’s been so long since I’ve heard your laugh. I don’t even know if I remember the sound anymore. I do remember it was my favourite sound in the world.

Yours, Always

Bucky