#tfatws drabble

[queenashen]

I’d let him throw a tantrum anytime he wanted

[mysoulbelongstobuckybarnes]

hi hiiii, i want to req a fic for tfatws bucky plsss! r and buck are close friends/partners, r is injured then passed out after a mission and bucky worries so much he actually cried 😞 bucky loves her but haven't told her so after she woke up he tries to tell her

thank you for the request! this is such a cute request and i hope i gave justice to it <3

your blood and his name | bucky barnes

summary: after a brutal bloodshed and the fear of losing you, bucky has to tell you and he can't keep his feelings hidden for longer.

warnings: extreme hurt/comfort, angst, blood, gore, use of Y/n, crying bucky barnes (it's a legit warning okay?)

pairing: you and bucky barnes (best friends)

author's note: i haven't written in a really long time, so this is my first step to get back on track. i'm really sorry if there are any writing errors. also requests are open!

words: 3k (oof)

masterlist | for my other works <3

divider by @toastray

Usually, it was the white lights that caused the prominent and incessant burn behind Bucky’s eyes. However, right now the thought of you, consumed his mind; flashbacks and rewinds of how the blood massacre went down, ways he could have stopped it, prevented, saved you somehow. It was a simple mission, if not something they hadn’t already faced together previously. 

The warehouse was cliched; Out of grid, middle of nowhere, blended amongst the darkness of the woods as it adorned a rusted red. Illegal activities, extract data, stolen SHIELD tech—everything they had dealt with before. Both of them had to sneak in, take down guards, only 17 workers detected—all taken down with simple tactics, all of them practiced relentlessly through yours and his sparring sessions. He winced at the casual nature, remembering you laughing and betting with him on how you would take more agents than he could. 

“Barnes, you will owe me a sushi dinner at the new restaurant down the block.”

“Of course, Doll. But not before you owe me your beautiful homemade cheesecake.”

You had smirked, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “You know, you should’ve asked for something else. Something I wouldn’t have already loved making for you over lunch.” 

“ True, true. But Doll, you can’t find something I wouldn’t already give you.”  

He had winked at you before breaking in.

Before everything; Before, you got shot right over the liver; Before you had loudly groaned and called out his name; Before he could even reach you.

It was fast. He had a breath caught in his throat as an extraction team came in, ready to take over while all he could do was try to keep you awake as blood oozed greedily all over his hands. Your gasping breaths, cruel squeaks erupting from your throat, weak whispers as you only called out his name.

His name. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

“It hurts, Bucky,” You squeaked, tears gushing in your pained eyes. “I know, baby. I know, but we’re reaching there, okay? I promise you it will be over.”

Your skin was discoloring, turning paler by the second. You looked at him, a melancholic feeling setting in your eyes.

“You know, I really looked forward to that sushi dinner.” You jokingly smiled, but it hit him like a train.

His ears were ringing, everything around him was spinning, as if he was being engulfed into a whirlpool in the middle of the Pacific. But all he could do was focus on you. Your pulse. Your heartbeat. The one and only anchor.

“How’s Friday, Doll? Will you wear that pretty red dress for me, hmm?” He asked you, but his body was repulsed. The overwhelming metallic of your running blood had reached his lungs and he could almost taste it on his tongue.

“You’re always so sweet to me, Bucky.” You hummed weakly. Your calloused hand brushed against his stubble, your cold thumb resting on his cheekbone. 

Bucky couldn’t breathe. He took your hand in his and kissed it, tucking it at his chest, right above his afraid heart.

“Always, sweetheart.”

Your smile was starting to weaken, your hold on Bucky–loosening. Water stained his cheeks, “No, Doll. I need you to stay awake, okay? We’re almost there. Eyes open for me, okay sweetheart…Y/n, Y/n!”

Sam had rushed to the hospital almost a second later, having to hold Bucky back from entering the OR. He didn’t say anything nor did he offer. He just held him as he cried into his arms. He sobbed, his body wracking, thrashing, losing control. He trembled like a little boy left in the wind; He took deep breaths—inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth—just like you had softly told him to when you came to his apartment in the middle of the night because he was having a panic attack.

He tried to think about happy thoughts—coney island, late night dinners with Sam and you, impromptu movie nights cuddled with you—but how could he? When the only person who consumed his thoughts was you. You with your beautiful laugh, ungraceful snorts and insane cravings that he would help you satisfy at 3 in the night. Your unruly hair, soulful eyes and those messy and un-ironed clothes when he would come in the middle of the night to your place with ice cream. Your uncalled-for inappropriate remarks, your soft reassurance and your warm hugs. 

Just you. 

Consumed. Addicted. Constant. 

How was he supposed to remain when all of that was tainted. Your blood on his hands, staining his gear and suits, the touch of your cold skin against his as you could only look at him, call for him, talk to him. He wanted to peel it off, his skin that your blood had seeped through. But all he could do was sit there because right now he inevitably, brutally and suffocatingly smelled like you. 

He did not imagine it like this. 

He tried to not imagine it at all.

Because if he did want to smell like you, then he wanted it because of how your scent had taken over his body after sleeping and cuddling with him. He wanted to be engulfed in your smell after wearing the hoodie that you had stolen from him. He wanted to be drunk on your laugh as you danced with him in the kitchen. After you clung onto him like vice, giggling into his ears as the wind sliced around you during a late night bike ride.

It wasn’t like a freight train–fast and unstoppable. 

No. It was rather like a beautiful and unrushed unfolding of feelings, crumbling of walls, the inevitable habituation.

The slow intimacy of being truly known, of being taken care of, of being seen as not what he was, but instead who he is. Defying the constant insecurities, hitching of breaths as you told him that he deserved peace. He was not a murderer; He was a victim. Understanding that while he may never ever be normal again, understanding that the Winter Soldier will be an inescapable part of him, Bucky Barnes was human. 

It scared him to death, really. He tried to not fall, he really did. But you were so powerful, so constant, so loving. Made him believe that he was capable; Capable of peace, love, care, friendship, being a human—not the killing machine HYDRA made of him. You put him back piece by piece, step by step, one act of love, acceptance and friendship to another. 

He was yours.

He belonged to you. 

He loved you.

And now, he may never get to tell you that he did. 

“Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky looked up, his cheeks profusely stained, nose most evidently red–a much lighter shade than that which had stained his clothes—his body completely rigid, yet somehow, absolutely overwhelmed. He cleared his throat and got up weakly.

“Yes, uhm,” He cleared his throat, voice still croaking, “Doc, is she–is everything okay?”

“It’s critical.”

Bucky didn’t know his heart could shatter more. 

“She took a heavy shot near the liver. It’s a miracle that it didn't penetrate the liver. There is heavy damage; we have stopped the internal bleeding, there are no signs of infection but there is some damage to other organs. She might need more surgery if the damage proves to be heavy. Otherwise, she will be fine.”

Bucky was just about to exhale until—

“That is, if her vitals remain stable through the night. We have done all we can, Mr. Barnes, but now it’s up to her—whether she can brave the storm. We won’t know until she wakes up.”

The doctor patted Bucky on the back and was about to leave. Bucky almost let him go.

“Doc! Can I, uhm, stay with her?” Bucky asked, his heart aching for you. 

“Of course, Mr. Barnes.”

_______________________________________________

Everything hurts. 

Pain surged through your body, as if the recognition of it, the realization of it was more damaging than the events that led up to it. Body was somehow numbed, but it still felt like a thousand needles were being pricked into your body. Also, why did your ears feel heavy, as if all the air in the world had taken their throne in them? You struggled to move, as if caged in one place, but really you knew you were not, which made it worse, considering that you were on your own—helpless. Were you alone? Your vision was blurred, still getting familiar to the harshness of the hospital’s white lights, right above your body. Hospital? Oh god. A nightmare of a memory penetrated your mind; An unwelcome, piercing and agonizing one at that. 

You relived it. The hot, burning shot in your stomach; the blurring of voices—loud, chaotic, alarmed.

Blood starting to gush out of your body as the unforgiving bullet made space for itself, invading your flesh, as it selfishly and obnoxiously radiated pain throughout your body. A bitter and metallic taste had taken over your mouth and your body trembled heavily.

You were about to collapse when only one name slipped through your tongue; it seemed almost rehearsed, your mouth had been accustomed to calling out this name, like a habit—constant and always there for you. The name brought a warm feeling which crept its way under your ribs, through your throat, settling itself in your stomach. Even with everything going on, this name was the only one that brought a sense of comfort. 

“Bucky,” You croaked. Your throat had gone absolutely dry, the drought draining your ability to speak.

Your vision became clearer, the white walls around you visible with the blue blankets that coddled you. You were at the hospital. The pain had mostly vanished, but your head was still screaming—screaming for some kind of solace. 

“Bucky,” You called out again, as if his name was ingrained into your brain. The bluest eyes, as if the ocean itself rested in them. The sweetest smile in the whole world. The scent of gasoline, sandalwood and that musky perfume you had picked out just for him. God, he smelled good.

“Sweetheart, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay?” 

Oh, his voice. It consumed your brain—not like a parasite, no. But like a sweet scent—like being in an enormous field of flowers. But the voice came in flashes, like a memory tormenting you. 

You sat up. Your senses were coming back, like a wash after a long day. 

You looked around the hospital room, taking in the scent of the floor detergent, the nauseating and pompous germ free atmosphere, bustling of patients and doctors and then your eyes finally landed on the buff presence right next to you. Your tactile sense overwhelmed you, but Bucky’s hand encompassing yours made everything better.

The warmth spread through your body, red tinting your cheeks. He had lulled away, his eyes closed, but not completely—as if he was hesitating to let himself completely fall into the arms of slumber. His body rested uncomfortably on the wooden chair which stood stoically—doing absolutely nothing to accommodate his body. 

Bucky mumbled incoherently and squeezed your hands. You winced shortly and then giggled at his form. 

His eyebrows were scrunched up, forehead adorned with lines of worry that you wished to run your fingers over so he can relax. You started to rub soothing circles on his hand with your thumb. “Bucky, honey?” You softly called out his name, your voice still raspy. You gave him a small smile when he started to stir up. “Hey,” You said. 

His eyes went wide at your consciousness and he jumped up, almost frantic. “Are you okay? Do you need something? I should call the doc—”

“Bucky! Calm down, will you? I am okay—as if a bullet can take me down. Really thought you got rid of me?” You teased him, his demeanor intriguing you. But Bucky’s face softened at your comments and he came back to you.

“I would never want to get rid of you, Doll, you know that.” He said as he tucked some of your strands behind your ears.

You breathed in his expression, the unbearable softness behind his eyes, the genuinity laced with concern in his voice and something that completely took over his face—something that had you utterly dumbfounded. Because this was Bucky; Yes, he was the White Wolf and one of the most notorious ex-assassins ever, so you can understand if you can’t decipher his emotions.

But no, this was your Bucky. Bucky Barnes was never just your colleague. He was never the 110 year old man with a vibranium arm with a traumatising past. No, Bucky was so much more than that; So much more than just a partner, or a colleague.

He was the man that came to your aid in an instant when there was a slight quiver in your voice. He was the man that still loved ferris wheel rides and eating cotton candy. He was the man that you had held in your arms time and time again when his ghosts haunted him. 

You knew him.

So, when you felt dumbfounded by his expressions, it was…safe to say, disturbing.

All you wanted to do was run your hands through his hair and understand why he looked at you like that. Why he looked at you in a way that had your whole face crimsoned and completely hot, in a way that made your stomach do somersaults.

Both of you realized you had been gazing at each other for way too long and cleared your throat. However, you winced, your throat still completely parched and Bucky’s concern for you rose again. “You okay? Do you need me to call the Doctor?”

“Can you get me water please?” You asked him and he immediately nodded. Water splashed down your throat, blessing your throat and you smiled at him weakly. “How long have I been out?”

There was a short pause. “15 hours.”

“Oh.”

Another pause. A moment of excruciating silence. “You scared me to death, Y/n.”

Your heart skipped a beat. His voice came out cracked, full of fear and misery.

“God, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t wake up.” You gasped, the vulnerability in his voice hitting your core.

“Bucky, it wasn’t something all of us hadn’t dealt with already.” You whispered, hoping to calm him down. But, it frustrated him even more.

“That doesn’t matter, Y/n! You–” His breath hitched. He looked like he was having one of his nightmares again.

“You bled out on me, Y/n. It was everywhere; God, it wouldn’t stop. You just kept on saying my name and I couldn’t do anything! I couldn’t do anything—You almost gave up on me, Y/n…Your skin, your eyes, everything had turned pale.” Bucky cried, a sudden desperation in his voice. 

“I am right here, Bucky. I am still here breathing, see,” You took his hand and placed it on your heart.

“Still alive, honey.” Bucky breathed, unshed tears in his blue eyes.

“I can’t live without you, Doll.” He confessed and you gasped. A breath caught in your throat. 

“I can’t live without you. And I can’t let you go, ever. Not without telling you—”

“Tell me what, Bucky?” You whispered, your whole heart stopped just for his next words. He panted, looking at you with the same expression that you couldn’t decipher. 

“I love you.”

Tears gushed in your eyes—you couldn’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth. It seemed as if he had just placed his whole body, heart and soul in those three words. “Doll, you need to say something—”

Your lips crashed over his, the longing, yearning and pining taking control of your actions.

It wasn’t sweet, no. It was desperate, an urgency to it that knocked the air out of both your lungs. You grabbed at his clothes, tugging him closer, needing to touch him, as if his kisses were the oxygen that you were cruelly deprived of. A low groan erupted from Bucky’s throat, his mind hazy—he was only focused on the movement of your lips against his. Bucky devoured your lips; addicted to the taste—like powdered sugar on blueberries. 

Both of you were running out of breath, panting as you sought more of each other, wanting to dive deeper into each other. 

Bucky slowed his kisses; he pecked them incessantly, not wanting to let go of you. He slowly took your bottom lip between his teeth while gazing in your eyes, holding breathtaking eye contact, tormenting you with the slide of his tongue across it. You gasped again and voiced a low moan between your pants. 

“Bucky…”

He could drown in the pretty sounds you made for him. 

Just him.

“God, Doll, been waiting so long to do that.”

You took his face in your hands and giggled against his lips.

“Me too.” You said, bashfully. You and Bucky just stayed there, foreheads against each other, reeling in the kiss, the moment, the confession.

It was a comfortable silence albeit a heavy one. Where you both tried to catch your breaths while gaping at each other.

Bucky’s eyes scanned your face, indulging himself in every little detail, as if he was an artist, getting ready to paint a picture perfect portrait of you. He memorised your small breaths and their patterns; your eyes, which admired him so lovingly, as if he was carved out by God—just for you; the red of your cheeks and your pretty swollen lips. 

You cleared your throat. “You know, you still owe me that sushi dinner on Friday?” You teased him shyly. He chortled, rolling his eyes in elation. He shook his head and then kissed your nose. 

“It’s a date, doll.” 

You grinned as he brought his lips back to yours, blending and molding perfectly against each other. 

He could finally breathe again.

thank you anon for my first Bucky Barnes request! This will be added to my masterlist after I make it. thank you and love to all <3

[buckysslut]

Can we please get super fucked out reader and Bucky and how that all plays out? How does he act when his baby can’t think?

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝-𝐨𝐮𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Bucky had been fucking you thoroughly for the past 2 hours and you were convinced he’d railed every last thought out of you. You were just babbling and whining into the pillow, completely fucked dumb, only able to focus on the full sensation his cock gave you. Bucky snickers tauntingly at you, pulling out to watch the way your hole gapes, stretched from hours of his cock pounding you. He looks up at you, booping your nose. “You gone all dumb, baby doll?” He murmurs, stroking your cheek. You whine, trying to hide your face. “I’d tell you to use your words but only big girls know how to use their words..” He murmurs, patting your hair condescendingly. “That’s a good girl, c’mon baby, let’s get you all cleaned up..”

Tags: @chrisevansleftnipple , @homiesexual-or-homosexual , @httpsells , @avengemepercy , @raikan624 , @multiversefanfics , @majulians-groupie ' @maryevm , @grilledcheesewithjalapeno , @yaboyguzma69 , @hopeofwinter

[tom-whore-dleston]

Bed Chem

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f. reader

Word Count: 541

This fic contains: smut, pwp, fwb dynamic, spanking, lingerie, Bucky has different sides in bed, light choking, hair pulling

Summary: Being fwb with Bucky has amazing benefits.

Notes: look, after the release of the teaser trailer of Thunderbolts*, I’ve been feral for Bucky okay 🫣 I couldn’t think of a good title for this fic so I settled for my fave Sabrina Carpenter song lol This is my submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt: Change in Tone.

You and Bucky had a different kind of relationship. You weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but you were both more than friends. For lack of a better term, you and Bucky were friends with benefits. And those benefits were the best terms you both agreed on.

Every time you had sex with Bucky, it was a different experience. Sometimes, his touches would be gentle and feather-like. Other times, his hands would be rougher and he’d grip you tighter in a possessive manner. Then, there was his voice. During his more tender moments, his voice was smooth like whiskey. On the flip side, when he was a little more aggressive with you, his voice was lower and animalistic. Bucky’s range in the bedroom taught you that sex wasn’t a performance but rather an experience. And each time you both ended speechless and satisfied.

In this current situation, you found yourself on all fours on top of Bucky’s bed wearing in a sheer lingerie one-piece. Bucky stood by the bed, admiring your backside with a smirk that you couldn’t see from your position, but could still sense. Bucky wore a crisp white shirt with the buttons done enough to get a peek of his chest hair and sculpted pecs. If you had seen how his sleeves were rolled enough to reveal his forearms, you would have melted into the bed sheets without him having to touch you.

You feel the bed creak under your hands and knees and suddenly Bucky’s bulge is right against your thigh. His fingers ghost above your spine, sending chills down to your cunt. Your breath hitched as you craved to feel his fingers down where your sensations were traveling to. All of a sudden, a hand crashes down on your ass, causing you to yelp in shock. Bucky chuckled, soothing the sting with his palm.

“Tell me what you want, darling, and I’ll give you that.” Bucky muttered, his lips dangerously close to your earlobe, his favorite part to tease.

“I want…you,” you gasped. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough for Bucky.

“How do you want it?” His vibranium hand sensually traces the curves of your body. “Do you want it soft and sweet?” He places a kiss on the back of your shoulder, causing you to smile and bite your lip. A moment later, that same hand yanks you by the hair, pressing your back flat against his chest. “Or would you like it hard and rough?”

You were unable to conjure words. Only a broken moan left your vocal cords. Bucky’s flesh hand cupped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. You gulped before Bucky smashed his lips against yours with fervor. His grip on your hair tightened as his teeth grazed your bottom lip. He let go of you once you attempted to grind against his hardness.

Bucky pushed you back down on the bed, your face in the pillow and your ass waving in the air. He unleashed a feral growl as he hurriedly unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. The tip of his cock teased your entrance, making your voice drip with need like your pussy.

“I’ll give you what you want, darling, but I’ll give it to you how I want it.”

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[saikiflm]

sambucky’s first encounter is very important to me because i can just imagine how flustered and embarrassed bucky gets whenever sam reminisces on the meeting.

When the kids ask the couple how they first met, Sam was already beaming to tell the story. Bucky knows that it’s one of Sam’s favorite story to tell but for him, as much as he’s thankful to whatever power above introduced him to this beautiful man he now calls his husband, he loathes this story. Only because of how much Sam likes to exaggerate the encounter and add in new details that surely wasn’t there last time and not because of how flustered and shy he gets when Sam describes how “badass” and “good looking” he was ripping that steering wheel from it’s hinges.

But when Bucky sees how soft Sam’s eyes get and how giddy and light his voice is—he falls in love all over again and wouldn’t wish to meet Sam any other way. So, with a small groan and a grin on his face he’s ready to hear whatever new detail and bask in his husband’s light that radiates off his skin as Sam tells the story of how they first met.

[th30ra3k3n]

“sometimes you think that you want to disappear

but all you really want is to be found.”

(anonymous)

[honeeysagee]

𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯? - sambucky drabble

sam doesn't notice the recent changes in his life until he looks up one day and sees them all standing in front of me.

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐞!

Sam Wilson didn't notice the change around his house. Sure, it needed a little cleaning, and the floors squeaked a little more these days, but he paid no mind to that. However, he didn't notice the extra pair of boots or the new coat that hung on the coat rack by the door. No, he barely even noticed the extra toothpaste in the bathroom.

He didn’t question the way the fridge stayed full or how the coffee never ran out. He didn’t pause when dinner started showing up in warm containers instead of takeout bags. And when he woke up to the sound of someone fixing the leaky faucet he’d meant to deal with three months ago, he just grunted a sleepy thanks and went back to bed.

It wasn’t that Sam was oblivious. He just… wasn’t looking too closely.

Not until he tripped over a pair of boots that weren’t his size and swore loud enough to wake the neighbors.

“Jesus, Buck—”

Bucky poked his head out of the kitchen, dishtowel slung over his shoulder like he lived there.

“You okay?” he asked, like he belonged.

Sam blinked. Then stared.

At the boots. At the towel. At the man in his kitchen.

"Yeah." He muttered and then left the conversation before he could register what he was seeing.

For the next couple of days, he noticed everything.

The way Bucky always left the sponge on the wrong side of the sink. The faint smell of Bucky’s cologne lingering on the couch cushion. The sound of the shower running even though Sam hadn’t turned it on. The quiet hum of someone else moving through his space like they’d always belonged.

He noticed the folded laundry that wasn’t his. The way his playlist had mysteriously gained three old rock songs he didn’t remember adding. The jacket draped over the back of his favorite chair. The half-read book on the coffee table with a metal bookmark tucked in neatly.

Everywhere he looked, there was Bucky.

And the thing was—it wasn’t unwelcome. Just… unsettling. Like finding a familiar rhythm in a song you didn’t realize you were humming.

It wasn’t until Thursday night, when Bucky was halfway through chopping garlic and asking if Sam wanted rice or potatoes, that Sam finally said it.

"When did you move in?"

Bucky didn’t look up right away. He scraped the garlic into the sizzling pan, the scent filling the space between them. It gave him just enough time to decide how honest he wanted to be.

“Couple weeks ago,” he said casually, like it was nothing. Like it was normal. “Give or take.”

Sam blinked. “A couple weeks? You didn't say anything.”

“Mmhm.” Bucky stirred the pan. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it.”

Sam folded his arms. “You brought a coat rack.”

“It was on sale.”

“You reorganized my pantry.”

“You had cereal next to canned beans. That’s chaos.”

Sam tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “You brought oat milk.”

Bucky shrugged. “You were out, and I bought whole milk for myself.”

There was a pause. A long one.

Sam stared at him—at the man who was comfortably barefoot in his kitchen, wearing a T-shirt Sam was pretty sure used to be his, acting like he hadn’t just casually confessed to squatting in his house for two weeks without permission.

The part that rattled him wasn’t the fact that Bucky had moved in.

It was the fact that Sam hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t minded. Still didn’t.

He exhaled slowly. “You gonna keep doing this?”

Bucky looked over, brow raised. “Doing what?”

“This. Showing up. Making dinner. Sleeping in my bed.”

Bucky set the spoon down. “Do you want me to stop?”

Sam didn’t answer right away. The silence between them stretched—thick, warm, familiar.

Finally, he shook his head once. “No. I'm getting free food and things fixed around here. Stay forever if you like.”

And Bucky, eyes soft and hopeful, smiled like he’d already known that. Like maybe he’d just been waiting for Sam to say it out loud.

[leopar6eyes]

firm believer that whenever it’s date night (or whenever you go out, really, bucky tells you “give me a lil spin/twirl” so he can see your full outfit. he holds your hand while you spin too. #needdomesticbuckyrn

[starsoverbrooklyn]

just the headline, doll: rain-soaked and hiding under the same umbrella. (#5/30) starring... TFATWS(but-everyone's-alive)!Bucky Barnes x f!waitress!Reader storm ahead, sweetheart: n/a, really. mutual pining but from bucky's pov. light and fluffy. like one/two cursewords(?) inked just for you: 776 a word from yours truly: your HONOR, this is TREASON! I did not submit this late--I hit 'Post' at 11:59p.m., then my internet FROZE for 19-21 minutes! ...true story but don't ask for receipts. Don't know where this one came from b/c I was literally just staring at my empty notes screen for a good hour. hope you enjoy! ♡⋆｡°✩ -rrinnie

Hot cakes. Warm, gooey egg yolk. You. Bucky is a man of simple pleasures, and his new favorite diner isn’t an exception—it defines them. Even without the first two, it’s your warm, inviting presence that brings him back at every chance. 

He watches you interact with customers, leaning in close, attentive and nodding along, a smile so radiant  it put sun-kissed cheeks to shame. He makes sure to shift his eyes every so often, scan the diner, let his gaze follow the cars outside—but like clockwork, it always lands back on you. 

And when it was time for you to leave, he knew. You’d float by your tables, carrying the delicate breeze of your perfume with you, your tone worn low and sweet, like the weight of the day had settled in your throat, making your voice dripped with milk and honey.

“How we doing, handsome?”

He blinked. Twice. Once to reboot, and the other to find his voice. He clears his throat, the heat rushing to his face like you’d given him a fever only you could cure. The corners of his mouth twitch—shy, uncertain. 

“Don’t think he’s ever had a complaint with you around.” God—damnit, Yori. 

You place a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, an anchor for your soft laughter, but a glimpse of what it’s like to float through air without gravity being a fickle bitch.

“Was actually asking you, Mr. Nakajima.” You wink at Bucky, letting him in on a bit of lighthearted banter like a gauze for his bleeding embarrassment. 

He misses the way your touch lingers, like you’re trying to forge a bond—fill him with just enough warmth to ensure he’ll come back.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything else before I go?”

Yori’s surprisingly quick to stand for a man his age. He shakes his head and waves a hand to you. “No, thanks! See you next time.”

Bucky’s eyes widen, amusement flickering in the blue rings around his pupils at his friend’s abrupt departure. His brow lines smooth out, lips twitching in silent apology. “Thanks, sweetheart. It’s always great to see you.”

Physics. It’d been a while and a dozen brain wipes ago since he’d been in school—but Tony’s pet spider had a habit of dropping annoyingly elementary tidbits of information he was convinced were fried out of Bucky’s brain. One he didn’t expect to need reminding of: Newton’s third law. 

You were the sun through Brooklyn’s clouds, but the rain that clattered heavy on his leather jacket—cold and unrelenting—was the universe’s equal and opposite reaction. 

He’d seen Yori home okay, grateful the diner was just up the block—though, it’s not like the older—well, technically younger—man cared to venture much further.

Rain didn’t gently scratch—but dug its claws into the back of his brain. The sensation of absence on his left side hollowed him out—like the heat in his veins turned to slush, its sole purpose to flood him with ice. The rain was the only thing that shudders The Winter Soldier.

“Taxi!”

Your voice is urgent, laced with the tiniest tremble. But he doesn’t miss it, even in the roll of thunder that cracks through the sky like a Wakandan jet. 

“James?” You call out, the familiarity like gloves to his hands, even with the shiver rattling your frame. Jesus, he can hear your teeth chattering from across the street. 

“Hi!” he calls back. It’s lame—too eager—but it doesn’t deter you. Or maybe you couldn’t hear it over the storm. You step off the sidewalk in pursuit of him, but he throws his hands up in front of his chest in protest, eyes widening slightly, heart racing with premature horror

“No! Stay there!” 

In half an instant—after a quick scan of the street, he’s sharing pavement with you. His steps slow a good distance away and you scoff—soft, non-condescending—at his density. Like a needle tightening a stitch, you close the space between the two of you, lifting your arm a little higher to welcome him under your umbrella, speckled with hearts in your favorite color. 

Your free hand settles on his arm, and it fills him—with fire. The reminder he’s warm-blooded. Human. Feeling. 

“Hi there.” 

You say with the softness of someone coaxing a deer from hiding—not to feed it, not to chase it—but just to see it up close. To let it know it’s safe.

Despite your admirable preparedness, your hair clings to the frame of your face. Water still rolls down your lashes. The tip of your nose is already catching roses. 

Still, you’re the very picture of the sun.

“Let’s get back inside,” you murmur. “I’ll get you a slice of warm apple pie.”

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Bucky Barnes Drabbles

�� This is my side blog for writing so any follows/likes/replies/comments/asks are from @just-another-fangirl-69

• This blog and my writing is intended for people over 18+ only. If you are a minor, do not interact!

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• All fics are under 800 words in this masterlist.

Main Masterlist

Fluff || 💚

Smut || 🐍

Angst || 🌿

Dark || 🪴

Trigger warning || 👒

Fics over 1K notes || ⭐️

Fics over 2K notes || 🌟

Fics over 4K notes || 💫

• Nights & Mornings TFATWS!Bucky (💚🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: How you and Bucky go to sleep and how you and him wake up.

• Nightmare (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: Bucky comforts you after a night terror.

• Sleepless Nights (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky comforts you when you can’t sleep.

• Cuddle Emergency (💚)

↳ Summary: You’re in some desperate need for cuddles from Bucky.

• Bucky buys you tampons (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky has no shame in buying you what you need.

• A Piece Of Her (🌿👒)

↳ Summary: Bucky loses an important thing of yours after your death.

• Alpine (💚)

↳ Summary: You adopt a cat that Bucky isn’t so very fond of to begin with…

• His Love & Comfort (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: You comfort Bucky after a nightmare.

• Rainy Mood (💚)

↳ Summary: What better to do on a rainy day than lie in bed with your husband and cat all snuggled up.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #1 (💚) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Bucky giving Y/N a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #2 (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky and Y/N walking through town, holding hands while it snows.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #3 (💚🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Bucky: “No need to fantasize when the real thing is right in front of you.”

• You Don’t Care If They Can Hear (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: You and Bucky don’t seem to care that people can hear you fucking at a party.

• Ghost From The Past (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: A ghost from the past comes back to haunt your beautiful and peaceful life.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #4 (🐍) 💫

↳ Summary: Y/N is someone who never swears. Never. Until Bucky is inside her, thrusting with reckless abandon, and taking great pride in the fact that he can reduce Y/N to this disheveled, lustful state, unable to say anything but his name and swearing from how good it is.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #5 (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Bucky and Y/N are on a motorcycle together. The constant movement and touching is getting them kind of excited...

• Dirty Talk (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: Day 2 of Kinktober 2022.

• Farmers Market (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 6 of Flufftober 2022.

• Preparations (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 9 of Flufftober 2022.

• Warm Cuddles (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 12 of Flufftober 2022.

• Haunted House (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: Day 25 of Flufftober 2022.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #6 (💚)

↳ Summary: Reader is reading a book and is talking about how they ship two of the characters together because of [insert cute reason here], and then Bucky says “that sounds like you and me right there.”

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #7 (💚) 🌟

↳ Summary: Bucky is about to leave for a mission. Reader asks him if he’s forgotten anything, and Bucky gives her a kiss. Reader becomes slightly shy and opens her hand to reveal Bucky’s wallet, saying “I meant this, but thank you.”

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #8 (💚🌿)

↳ Summary: Bucky and Reader getting sick at the same time.

• Prompt Event (Drabble) #9 (💚)

↳ Summary: Bucky and Reader getting lost in IKEA.

• Christmas Tree Farm (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 3 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Decorations (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 4 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Cozy Morning (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 5 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Goodies (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 6 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Drinks (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 7 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Under The Mistletoe (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 10 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Cozy Night (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 11 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Coffee Shop (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 12 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Christmas Market (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 13 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• Santa (💚)

↳ Summary: Day 14 of Advent Calendar 2023.

• That Walk (🐍) ⭐️

↳ Summary: That walk. That goddamn walk of his that’s laced with sex and confidence. Fuck, you can’t get enough of it.

[seanom1lk]

so on a side note

bucky didnt mean to seem creepy or anything, he was just driving past when he heard AJ and Cass yelling and playing in the backyard that him and sam used to share. he just slowed down at first, not exactly stopping his motorcylce, but something in him told him to pull over.

so he sort of just leaned up against his bike, watching the house and the shadows of his once family run around. it wasnt until sam stopped where the fence met the road and stared at bucky. at first, he had thought sam was happy to see him. but then he sighed and marched over to bucky to ask him 'what the fuck do you think your doing?'

he had paused and stared like sam just stopped his whole world. like time itself ceased to move because of how beautiful sam was. after sam talked, very agressively, to bucky, he left.

and from then on he would do that, watch sam from the street below the window, or look at the backyard where he was sitting torres as he drove by. but he never got caught again.

because he kept his distance. distance he wished, deep down, wasnt there.

[queenashen]

Fear him…

[heartswarm-void]

“Well, that happened,” Bucky chuckles, masking his inner turmoil and pressure. He finds it funny. Because he’s everything that’s wrong in his life. He’s broken and miserable. And that’s funny.

Sam had been quietly listening throughout, his eyes soft and kind.

“You’ve been through so much. You’ve fought for so long,” Sam says, blinking back tears. “Let me carry the burden with you. You’re not alone, Buck. Not anymore.” Sam offers his left hand.

But for Bucky, Sam’s offering so much more.

Bucky’s eyes brim with decades of unshed tears. And he weeps.

He extends his hand, metal touching flesh.

[buckysslut]

idk if u fw it u can ignore this if u don’t, but mommy kink bucky 😵‍💫😵‍💫 GOD he’d be such a good boy for you any day, he’d nuzzle into your tits and grope them mumuring the name. he’d have fantasies of sucking your tits while you jerk him off

𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 [𝐩𝐭. 𝟐]

"Fuck, Mama, love these tits.." He murmurs, pressing his entire body weight on top of you. He was sloppily making out with your tits, lips wrapped around your bud and the other being tended to by his fingers. He lazily drags his tongue around it, swirling his tongue around it before sucking again. "Could fuckin' stay like this all day, Mama.." He mumbles, taking your nipple between his teeth and tugging on them. You moan breathily, head falling back against the sheets. "Get your cock out, baby.. Let Mama jerk your cock.. bein' such a good boy for me.." You say breathlessly, lip caught between your teeth as you lose yourself in the pleasure. He obeys immediately, switching to take your other nipple in his mouth as his hand fumbles to pull his cock out of the grey sweatpants he was wearing. He pulls it out and practically goes slack when your hand wraps around his girth, lazily stroking it. "Holy fuckin' shit, Mommy.." He whines, nuzzling his face into your boobs as he feels your soft hands tugging his dick. "Such a good boy, aren't you, sweetheart?" You coo teasingly, feeling the way his cock twitches in your hand when you praise him. "So pathetic.." You mumble, hand twisting at the pink tip of dick (which was already leaking), "But such a good boy.. go on baby.. keep loving on Mama's tits.. try not to cum so quick this time, huh?"

[pt. 1]

Tags: @chrisevansleftnipple , @homiesexual-or-homosexual , @httpsells , @avengemepercy , @raikan624 , @multiversefanfics , @majulians-groupie ' @maryevm , @grilledcheesewithjalapeno , @yaboyguzma69 , @hopeofwinter , @buckybarnesslutshop

[jabbotmohan]

title: the phantom weight

rating: not rated

characters: sam wilson and bucky barnes

summary: It’s easy, during the day, to push aside all those who have been lost on his watch. But the night is a different story entirely.

read it here

[saikiflm]

My favorite part about sambucky is how unsaid everything is, those stares, brief moment of contact between them, those toothy grins whenever one of them makes an A1 comeback. It’s all airy, light, something they can sit in forever and never get tired of.

Yet god forbid one of them even has the thought of trying to contextualize it—scared that if they say it out loud everything will fall apart. All those moments read wrong because they both can’t commit to their obvious desires, desires that feel so far out of reach ever since their respective tragedies. But the heart wants what the heart wants and theres no way neither of them can will themselves to back away or put some type of distance between each other because fuck—that lingering touch, those stares, those smiles its all too much but so little it craves them wanting more, way more than they allow themselves on a good day.

It’s ironic that they both aren’t the type to dwell on feelings especially one that makes them this restless. So really, it’s only a matter of time before they feel as if in that moment tomorrow won’t exist when things are left unsaid.