#the soldier's wife

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Mornings With All Of You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky x Wife/Mom/Pregnant!Reader with kids Becca and James Jr

Summary: Bucky enjoys his morning with his wife and kids.

Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, nicknames/pet names

A/N: Thank you @buckys-wintersoldier for brainstorming ideas with me🥰🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Mommy said to not wake up daddy.” Yours and Bucky’s 4 year old daughter, Becca says to her 2 year old brother James Jr.

“Dada.” James Jr says, pointing at the closed bedroom door.

Bucky just got home from a two week long mission and you’re letting him sleep in. You told the kids to let their daddy sleep, but they didn���t listen. They just want daddy’s attention and lovings.

Becca is the smart one. She gets that from you. She knows it’s bad to disobey what you tell her and her brother, but she’s a total daddy’s girl. If she wants to see her daddy, she’ll see her daddy.

She walked to the closed bedroom door and stood on her tippy toes to open it. She held onto the wall so she didn’t fall. She opened the door with ease and pushed it open. Becca turned to James Jr and put a finger against her lips, telling him to be quiet as they walked in the bedroom where their daddy is sleeping.

Bucky may have enhanced hearing, but surprisingly he didn’t hear the door open and his kids walk in the room. They somehow to manage to climb up the side of the bed to get on top of it. They crawled to him and snuggled themselves under the blanket and against Bucky’s sides.

They couldn’t hold their giggles in. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open when he heard his kids’ giggles. He looked on both sides of him, seeing them laying next to him.

“Good morning, daddy.” They say at the same time.

“Good morning, munchkins.” Bucky says happily.

Bucky sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.

“Where’s mommy?” He asks.

“Cooking and baking room.” Becca answers.

That’s what she calls the kitchen.

“Mommy make muffins.” Jame Jr tells him.

“What kind?” He asks.

“Chocolate chip blueberry!” Becca answers.

“Ooh, sounds good!” Bucky says.

Bucky got out of bed and carefully picked up his son and daughter in each arm, making them giggle uncontrollably. You put a tray of muffins on the kitchen counter and looked up when you heard the sound of giggles entering the kitchen. You smiled when you seen your husband and kids.

“I told them not to wake you up.” You say, kissing Bucky good morning.

“It’s fine, doll.” Bucky carefully placed them on the floor and they ran to the living room to watch cartoons. “I love it when they wake me up.” He says.

Bucky put his hands on your sides, rubbing them up and down. His hands slowly made their way to your 2 month pregnant belly, caressing it. He looked down at your belly with the look of love and adoration on his face.

“I can’t believe we have third one on the way.” He muses.

“You better believe it cause she’ll be here before we know it.” You mused with him, putting your hands on top of his.

“She?” Bucky playfully raised an eyebrow at you. “I think we’re going to have another boy.” He says.

“You just like to be right, don’t you, Sarge?” You giggled.

“I was right with James Jr.” He says with a proud smile.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband and kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, wanting him to be close to you.

“Do you have to go to the compound today?” You asked.

“Nope.” Bucky answers. “Steve gave me the next couple of days off to spend with you and the kids.” He tells you.

“That’s good, because I missed you.” You put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I think the kids missed you more than me though.” You say.

“Our kids always find a way to out rank us.” He says.

You giggled softly. Bucky kissed your forehead, making you smile. As you two were pulling away from each other, the kids came running in the kitchen.

“Are the muffins done?” Becca asks, looking up at you.

“Yes.” You confirmed with a smile.

The kids cheered happily and excitedly, making you and Bucky smile down at the two little creations you two brought into this world. Bucky got the kids seated at the table in the dining room while you took breakfast in there. During breakfast, the kids told you and Bucky what they want to do today. Bucky listened to everything his son and daughter said with the look of adoration on his face.

After breakfast, you cleaned up while Bucky cleaned the kids up. They’re messy eaters. He got them dressed and then got himself dressed. He walked back in the kitchen at the same time you were finishing up with washing the dishes. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and put his hands on your belly. You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Bucky asks softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“You tell me about a billion times a day.” You say with a smile.

Bucky carefully spun you around so you were facing him. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“Let me tell you a billion times more.” He murmurs softly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck when he kissed you softly and sweetly. You two couldn’t help but smile against each other’s lips.

“Hey!” You and Bucky heard a small high pitched voice, already knowing it’s Becca.

You and Bucky laughed lightly and pulled away to see what she needed.

“That’s how you get cooties!” Becca exclaims.

“Me and daddy can’t get cooties, because we’re married.” You explained to your daughter. “Plus, daddy is a Super Soldier so it won’t affect him at all.” You tell her.

Becca stared at you like you just said the most interesting thing in the world. You walked past her and playfully ruffled her hair and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Becca didn’t miss the way Bucky was looking at you as you were walking away. He had the look of love and adoration on his face. She was curious to know why he was looking at you like that.

“Daddy?” Becca taps on Bucky’s leg to get his attention.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, picking her up and walked to the living room to sit down on the couch.

“Why do you look at mommy like that?” She asks curiously.

“Mommy is my wife and the love of my life. I love her with all of my heart. She makes me so happy.” He explains. “You and your brother make happy and I love you two as well.” He says, kissing her forehead.

“What about the baby in mommy’s belly?” She asks.

“I love the baby in mommy’s belly too. He or she is going to make me happy too.” He says happily.

You walked in the living room with James Jr in your arms and sat down on the couch next to Bucky and Becca.

“Daddy love you!” Becca blurts out.

“Oh, he does, does he?” You say.

“He said you’re his wife.” She says.

“He’s right. I am his wife.” You smile widely. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” You say, kissing Bucky’s cheek.

Becca and James Jr carefully slid off of yours and Bucky’s lap to play with their toys on the floor while cartoons played on the TV. You slid closer to Bucky, snuggling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, gently rubbing your belly with his hand.

“I love mornings with all of you.” Bucky says softly and happily.

“Me too.” You say softly, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

James Jr threw a stuffed animal at you and Bucky when he seen you two kissing.

“Yucky!” James Jr shouts loudly, making you and Bucky laugh.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[aca-sonia]

[tldrthor]

Not even death (part one) | bucky barnes

// Summary: It's been 70 years of being his widow, and the world had moved on. But she never would. Commiserating on their wedding anniversary, (y/n) Barnes is attacked by an assailant as she visits her husband's grave. There's something just a little too familiar about the whole thing.

// warnings: ws!bucky barnes x avenger!wife!reader, lots of grief, canon-typical violence, angst, f!reader, platonic!steve being a cutie patootie

// word count: 4.5k

enjoyed? please like/reblog! you can find my masterlist here <3

part two | part three

The third best day of her life was her wedding day. 

“Would you switch that off?” She motioned toward the radio in the corner, its incessant drone filling the room. The news blared on—reports of the war, the draft, the daily toll of lives lost. She didn’t need to hear any more. She had already heard it in her head a thousand times, played over and over. Her fiancé was a sergeant, for God’s sake. And she, herself, was getting ready to be shipped off to Europe as a nurse, just another casualty of a war that seemed endless.

Her mother bustled around her, fingers moving with practiced precision as she pinned back her daughter’s hair, spraying the air with the sharp scent of hairspray. She worked on her like a sculptor carving stone, the final touch of a masterpiece. Every movement was deliberate, as if her daughter’s future rested entirely on the perfection of her appearance.

“Sweetheart,” her mother’s voice was soft but laced with concern, “are you sure about this?” The question came between bursts of the toxic spray. “James is a wonderful boy, but this is so rushed. Maybe you should wait until after the war. After everything settles down.”

The girl sitting in front of the mirror understood the hesitation, the fear that gripped her mother’s heart. She saw it in the tightness of her shoulders, in the way her hands shook ever so slightly as she worked. Her mother didn’t understand, couldn’t. How could she? How could anyone? The love she shared with Bucky wasn’t something that could be explained in simple words or the framework of time. It wasn’t about waiting until after the war — it was about the now. It was about carving a life together, even if that life was destined to be brief. It was about this moment. And if the war did its worst, she needed to know the world would remember their love.

“Maybe there won’t be an after,” she whispered, almost to herself, the weight of the words heavier than she intended.

Her mother paused, the hairspray can still in her hand, but didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, she leaned in, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head, the warmth of the gesture lingering long after she pulled away. She returned to her task, the silence between them thick with unsaid things. Her mother didn’t have to say anything. She knew the question was unanswerable, the truth too raw to put into words.

The memory had been burning its way into her thoughts since the moment she woke up that morning. Over the years, the pain had dulled – god knows it had been long enough. But on days like today it felt like the pain all came flooding back – like she hadn’t moved forward from that day, and all the tragedy that followed, at all. It was her second least favourite day of the year: their wedding anniversary.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A familiar voice interrupted her self-pity from the doorway of her office. He knew what day it was. And she was certain he was here to make sure she wasn’t spiralling into the familiar, unending depths of grief she had been known to inhabit.

She mustered a small smile, relief creeping over her features as he walked in and sat in the chair opposite her. “Just reminiscing.” She typed quickly, finishing the email she absolutely had to send now, before giving her full attention to the Captain.

“Seventy-four years, huh? Hard to believe.” Steve leant back in the chair, his hands clasped neatly over his lap. She could feel him examining her every move, looking for signs of weakness no doubt. He continued; “How’re you holding up?”

She sighed. “I’m doing okay, Steve. Going to visit his grave later… if you want to join?” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose–”

She shook her head at him, cutting him off with a gentle firmness. “Nonsense, Stevie. You’re never imposing. We’ll go to the cemetery and then grab some italian from that place in Brooklyn?” 

He nodded, his features softening. He knew that her insistence was not her being kind – it was an unspoken way of asking him not to leave her alone. “Italian it is.”

A sharp knock on the door interrupted their moment. The agent standing in the doorway straightened, a look of respect on his face. “Sorry to disturb you, Commander. Fury’s requesting your presence in his office.”

Her gaze flicked up from the papers in front of her, her expression shifting from the kind, friendly one that Steve was used to, to the calm professionalism of the former head of SHIELD and current Commander. “I’ll be right there, Agent. Thank you.” 

She stood up from her desk, the movement deliberate, Steve following her lead. “Sorry, Steve. Duty calls.” Her tone softened slightly, but still carried the weight of someone used to giving orders.

“Right you are, Commander.” He smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t suppress a small, fond smile. Her heels clicked down the hall, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet office. Left behind in the silence, Steve reached for the photo frame on her desk, his fingers brushing over the glass as he studied the picture. 

Both of his best friends, looking the happiest they’d ever been. Him, too, standing to the right of Bucky. He still considered it one of the greatest honours of his life, to have been Bucky’s best man -- to stand at the altar as his two best friends committing their lives to one another.

Back when each other was all they had. They always had an extra inhaler on hand for him, just in case, and secret codewords for when he wasn’t feeling well, so he didn’t have to explain his chronic health conditions to anyone else. When she wasn’t commander, she was just (y/n), and when she wasn’t visiting Bucky’s grave instead of celebrating an anniversary they should’ve spent old and grey together.

Back when they were just kids, ready to be shipped off to war. 

The church was full, but it might as well have been empty. It was just the two of them at that moment. Just Bucky and her, standing at the altar in front of their family and friends, yet none of that mattered. Everything else — the wedding guests, the flowers, the music — faded away, leaving only the man in front of her.

Her hands were trembling, but she didn’t think he noticed. She tried to keep her mind away from the next steps, from the inevitable. They had no idea what would happen when they were shipped off to the other side of the world. Neither of them did. This moment was all they had.

Bucky stood tall in his uniform, as handsome as she remembered from their first meeting, when he had looked at her with those wide brown eyes and a grin that made her stomach flip. His strong hands gripped hers tightly, like he was afraid to let go. His jaw was tight, his shoulders squared — he was trying to hold it together, just like she was.

The minister spoke, but her attention was fixed on him. The slight furrow of his brow, the way his mouth turned down in concentration, the way he steadied his breath before every word. She wanted to reach out, pull him into her arms, and whisper that everything would be fine. But she couldn’t lie to him. She couldn’t promise that.

"Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take (y/n) to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, in war and in peace, as long as you both shall live?" The minister's voice was deep, but it seemed so far away.

Bucky’s grip tightened on her hand. "I do."

The weight of that simple phrase hung in the air between them, pulling at the corners of her heart. The words were not just an affirmation of love, but a promise — one that would either be honoured in the years to come, or one that would be broken by the unforgiving hands of fate.

The minister turned to her, his eyes kind, yet somber. She swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat down as her hands shook. "And do you, (y/n), take James Buchanan Barnes to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, in war and in peace, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

The minister smiled softly, as though understanding what they were really asking of each other — what they were really saying. This wasn’t just a wedding. It was a promise, forged in the fires of uncertainty, that they would try to carry their love into whatever came next, whether that was days, months, or years.

Bucky squeezed her hands once, then brought them up to his lips, kissing the back of her hand gently. She saw the soft smile on his lips, the one that always made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world. She smiled back, even though the pit in her stomach had only deepened.

"By the power vested in me by the State of New York," the minister continued, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Her heart thudded in her chest as Bucky gently cupped her face in his hands. His eyes searched hers for just a moment, full of a hundred unspoken words. Then, he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that tasted like heaven and heartbreak. He kissed her like he was memorising the feel of her, like he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to do it again.

Got held up in a meeting, I’ll meet you at the cemetery? The text blinked on her phone screen. She sighed, slipping her coat on and locking her office door. She hadn’t really wanted to go by herself, but she didn’t mind. She knew he would keep his word.

She stepped into the cool New York air, letting the crisp bite of it settle in her lungs. She could have taken a cab, but today, she decided to walk. The weather, the perfect chill she had once shared with Bucky, should have brought some comfort. They had always loved walking on days like this – finishing with a steaming hot cup of cocoa from Marcels’ street cart. She could almost taste it, even though Marcel and his cart were long gone. Today, it was different. The cold air was suffocating, like a reminder that she would never have that again.

She got there quicker than she intended to, having realised she was marching there. The squeak of the poorly-maintained gate interrupted the eerie silence of the cemetery, even the wind barely stirring the trees. Not even the noise of the traffic dared to encroach on this hallowed ground, as if the outside world was shut out.

Her feet moved on their own, guided by the kind of muscle memory that only comes from years of repetition. She didn’t need to think about where she was going—she had walked these paths so many times, the route was etched into her mind. She had come here hundreds, maybe thousands, of times.

The last slivers of sunlight were fading, casting long, stretching shadows over the gravestones, highlighting the one she was here to see. 

Sgt. James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes Gave his tomorrow for our today. 1917 - 1945

Looking at the familiar stone, she felt the weight of the world pressing into her shoulders. She didn’t cry here these days – she couldn’t bring the tears to fall. It felt more like her heart was being plunged into an ice bath and held until it screamed for air.

“Hi, handsome.” She smiled, touching the top of the stone, ever so lightly. She had noticed, the past few times she had come, that there was a little dip in the stone where she had touched the stone every time she came to visit for the last seventy years. Another reminder of how long she had been alone. 

She remembered him at the altar, standing tall as her father walked her down the aisle. He had been a strapping young man, full of strength and kindness, with an unshakable need to protect those around him. She had adored his Sergeant’s uniform — the way it spoke of everything he had endured, his unwavering dedication, and the spirit that had always driven him. It was that same uniform he wore when he became her husband, in that perfect moment when she thought maybe everything would be okay.

And then, last year, she had seen it again — his uniform — displayed at the Smithsonian exhibition. The sight of it, the memory of him in it, hit her like a punch to the gut. She had barely managed to hold it together long enough to step away, stumbling to the bathroom where she had collapsed in front of the sink, choking back bile.

A sudden shift caught her attention – the crunch of a footstep. There hadn’t been anyone else here. Her instincts kicked in before her mind could process the danger. Her hand dropped to her side where her concealed knife rested, fingers brushing the hilt as she turned on her heel. 

A shadow at the edge of the cemetery. The figure stepped into the rapidly dimming light, revealing a man clad in dark tactical gear, his face obscured by a mask and goggles. A glinting silver arm by his side. It wasn’t the kind of thing you wore to visit a graveyard.

For a moment, as they locked eyes, there was nothing but silence. She thought, just for a second, that there was something familiar about him. There was a stiff hesitance in his actions – his face turned briefly from her to the gravestone she was visiting. It wasn’t the right time to think about it, and she wasn’t one to say no to an advantage in a fight.

In one fluid motion, she drew her blade and without missing a beat, she moved. She sprinted towards him, adrenaline surging in her veins, and threw herself in a roll to the side. The assailant’s reaction was immediate – his metal arm shot out to intercept, but she was quicker. She ducked low and spun around, coming up on his left side and launching a series of precise strikes.

Her knife aimed for his throat, but he blocked it effortlessly with his metal arm, the screech of metal against metal echoing in the still air.

The man moved quickly, the metal arm slashing towards her with terrifying speed. She dodged to the side, her own body moving like a blur but narrowly avoiding the strike. She retaliated immediately, aiming a series of rapid strikes at his torso, testing his defences once again.

His reactions were sharp, almost inhumanly so. Faster than anyone she had ever seen. She managed to keep pace with his dizzying movements, moving with the fluidity of someone who had done this dance many times before.

She threw another jab, hitting his side. It did nothing – she hadn’t managed to land an effective attack yet, and she was one of the best in SHIELD at hand-to-hand. There was something not right here, something she was missing… 

Taking advantage of her failed hit, his boot connected with her chest, sending her crashing against one of the gravestones. She hit the ground hard, but didn’t stay there – she rolled with the momentum, popping back to her feet smoothly, eyes never leaving her opponent.

He lunged forward, slashing upwards with his knife. She screamed as it made contact with her cheekbone, her hand moving up to cover her new wound and wincing at the claret staining it as she pulled away. She tried to ready herself for his next move, but with the distraction, he was too fast. His strikes were brutal, calculating, each one designed to incapacitate. She was no stranger to close combat but she struggled to match him blow for blow, as the fight dragged on.

She began to feel the weight of her exhaustion. The assailant was relentless, she would give him that. Like a force of nature. She couldn’t help but feel more and more that the odds were stacking against her. As she tired, the attacker only seemed to get quicker and stronger.

With one miscalculation, she found herself pinned to the ground, his boot pressing into her chest, the cold metal of his arm looming over her. She desperately gasped for breath, struggling beneath his weight as she began to feel her ribs crack – the harder she struggled, the tighter his grip seemed to get.

“Get off!” She shouted, desperate to break free. Her words only seemed to fuel his determination. Maybe this is it, she thought. She took a glance at Bucky’s grave – maybe they would finally be together again. 

As her struggles became weaker and weaker, a haze reached around the edge of her vision. A red, white and blue blur collided with the attacker’s side, sending him stumbling back off of her chest.

“HEY!” Steve’s voice was like the heralding of an angel. She gasped in a breath of relief as the pressure on her chest finally released.

She scrambled up, her heart still hammering – her chest in immeasurable pain. Steve stood between her and the assailant as she felt like she was hacking up half a lung and at least part of her heart. 

“You good?” He called back to her, his eyes unmoving from the man in front of them. The man who previously had been ready to kill her, but now seemed to be showing hesitation once again. She could only cough and splutter in return, but it meant she was breathing at least.

The moment of hesitation passed. 

With a growl, the attacker lunged again, attacking Steve with a fury that made her blood run cold. But Steve was ready. He met the assault with precision, using his shield to parry each blow, his movements fluid and practiced.

The attacker didn’t manage to get through Steve’s defences in the way he had hers, no longer able to use physical strength as an advantage. With a sickening crack, Steve’s shield slammed into the side of his head.

It was a move that would’ve knocked an ordinary man out cold, at the very least. But their assailant simply shook his head, as if trying to clear it. His eyes seemed to lock onto her for a brief moment, and then, in the blink of an eye, he darted back, disappearing into the shadows.

Steve and her both froze, staring at the empty space where he had been.

“What the hell was that?” She muttered, trying desperately to catch her breath. Her legs shook from the adrenaline, and Steve finally tore his eyes away to look at his friend. 

His jaw tightened as he scanned the area. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone move like that.” He turned to her, “Are you hurt?”

“Cut to the face, at least a couple of broken ribs.” She wheezed. “Who the hell was that, and what did they want from me? Why did he run?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but it definitely wasn’t a random thug. That was a highly trained killer. And whoever he is or whatever he works for, they clearly want you gone.”

She shook her head. “If they wanted me gone, why wouldn’t they have just positioned a sniper above the cemetery. This felt personal, Steve.”

He grimaced. There was something deeply troubling about the whole affair. Attacking a widow at her husband’s grave, that wasn’t a coincidence, it was a message. Nothing was sacred, and nowhere is safe.

“We need to go.” He put his arms around her, helping her along as she continued to splutter and cough. She threw one last look back at Bucky’s grave, her own blood splashed across it. Something about the imagery made her shudder.

“You’re not going back to your own apartment, (y/n). You can stay with me.” Steve’s voice was firm, with a strong undercurrent of concern – it was clear that he wasn’t asking, just telling. Normally, she would protect, argue that she needed her space. But after the terrifying encounter in the cemetery, the weight of everything – the fight, the fear, the haunting glimpse of the man sent to kill her – maybe it was for the best that she wasn’t alone.

She tilted her head, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m technically your superior, Captain. You can’t give me orders.” The teasing edge was there, but it was tired, the last remnants of her usual strength finally slipping away.

Steve chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. But there was something in his eyes that told her he wasn’t going to let her play that game tonight.

“Unfortunately, Commander,” he replied, his tone playful but insistent. “I promised my best friend I would look after his wife for the rest of my days before he left for Europe. And that trumps any kind of hierarchy said wife finds herself at the top of.”

She smirked, recalling the days before – before everything went wrong, before there was a permanent hole in her life that took the shape of Bucky Barnes. Before the war. Before everything.

Her smile faltered just slightly as she shifted on the couch, wincing from the pain in her chest. Steve was quick to step closer, his hands hovering near her, ready to help.

“You’re sure you don’t need a doctor?” He asked, his voice quieter now, more like the Steve she had once known – concerned and kind, but with an edge of the stoic man who had seen too much and lost too many.

She shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment. “I’ve broken my ribs a thousand times, Stevie. They can’t do anything but pain management.”

There was no bitterness in her voice, just a simple fact. Her body had carried the marks of war for longer than she cared to count – bruises, scars and the slow, agonising wear of decades spent in battle. They say time heals all wounds, but she had enough marks – physical and mental – to prove that wrong.

He sat down beside her, his frown deepening. “What about the cut on your face?” He asked gently, his eyes scanning the healing wound on her cheek. “Looks like it’s going to scar.”

She reached up slowly, brushing her fingers over the cut, the jagged line that would probably never fade. “Just add it to the list, I guess.” she said quietly. Her voice was light, but there was a hardness in it. She was weary after fighting for so long – fighting to survive, fighting for what’s right, fighting to honour a love that was taken from her before it had a chance to bloom.

Seventy years. And yet, in some ways, she still felt like that woman in the secondhand dress marrying Sergeant Barnes, praying that her husband would come back to her. 

He didn’t. But she had kept going regardless.

A quiet silence filled the room as Steve stood up, moving around his small Brooklyn apartment. The soft clinking of dishes and the rhythmic sounds of him making tea or coffee or whatever else he could find to busy his hands was soothing, almost like a lullaby. 

She sank back into the cushions, closing her eyes as the pain in her side and the exhaustion in her bones began to catch up with her. She had barely slept the night before, and today had been a nightmare in every definition of the word — a fight with some kind of enhanced being, a near-death experience, and now, Steve was here, keeping her from falling into a darkness she wasn’t sure she could crawl out of alone.

“I’m exhausted,” she murmured, her voice catching slightly. She didn’t need to pretend in front of Steve, not after everything they’d been through.

Steve moved quickly to her side, adjusting the blanket around her, his eyes never leaving her face. He didn’t need to say anything. He simply nodded, a small, concerned smile on his lips as he tucked the blanket around her tighter.

“I’ll stay up,” he said softly, his voice steady and comforting. “Keep an eye out. Sweet dreams, (y/n).”

“Thanks, Stevie.” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as the exhaustion overwhelmed her.

Her dreams, as they always did, were filled with memories of Bucky. The sound of his laugh, the way he held her hand on their wedding day, the way his arms had felt around her when they said goodbye. And then, the last time she had seen him — the last moment, frozen in time, before everything changed.

“Guess this is it, huh?” His voice was low, filled with both sorrow and resolve.

“So much for a honeymoon.” She smiled, sadly, her fingers brushing over the collar of his uniform. “I just wish I could come with you.”

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, his hands still resting on her face, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. “You will. In your own way. You’re going to make a difference, (y/n). You’re gonna help save lives.” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and she felt it deep in her bones.

"And you’ll be back," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. "You’ll come back to me."

Bucky gave a faint smile, though it was bittersweet. "I’m coming back," he promised, but the weight of it hung between them. "I swear it."

All she could focus on was the warmth of his touch, the strength of his hand holding hers, the slight tremble in his fingertips that betrayed the fear he wasn’t letting anyone see. The two of them stood there, hand in hand, while the world around them celebrated a union that felt both like the beginning of something beautiful and the end of something they couldn’t protect from the violence of war.

I promised, didn't I! Thank you to everyone who voted on my WIP poll, it was super informative!

Reminder you can join my taglist via the google form here <3 Special thank you to @ironwinnerwonderland who specifically requested Bucky Barnes on the form!

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Green

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader, Ben and daughter!OC

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

AN: Another one-shot for the BMD-verse, set sometime after "Until Morning" (you'll see). This can be read as standalone as well!

Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Father and daughter fluff, followed by husband and wife spice.~

Read more of the BMD-verse! ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Father and daughter were glaring at one another, gazes locked.

Green against green.

“Young lady, I’m telling you right now. I’m not gonna tolerate any more of your little attitude,” said Ben. “If you want to try me, be my guest.”

He held the ravioli poised on a pink plastic spoon. His daughter Lila sat in her highchair in the kitchen, boldly refusing any more of her lunch.

Her stubborn face reminded him entirely too much of you. But he needed her to eat. He wouldn’t have it said when you came home that he couldn’t feed a damn two-year-old.

He huffed. “Work with me here. Just a couple more bites.”

Lila made a shrill sound of refusal when the spoon came near her face. He knew she could use a spoon just fine. She was being difficult on purpose.

To demonstrate her resolve, she slapped at the ravioli with a chubby little hand, and it ended up splashing back into the bowl. A bit of red sauce splattered onto Ben’s cheek, with a pinch of it hitting his eye.

He blinked in annoyance. “Delilah Marie, I swear to Christ—”

She’s just a baby, a voice that sounded a lot like you infiltrated his mind. It still didn’t take away his aggravation.

“No!” Lila insisted. It was her favorite word, right behind Bluey.

She then pushed the bowl right off the highchair. It spilled ravioli and pasta sauce all over the floor in spectacular fashion. Ben was sitting in his own chair by the dining table, where he moved his feet back at the last moment. She almost got his Italian loafers.

“You gotta be f…” It took every scrap of patience within him to hold his tongue…and breathe calmly through his nose. He didn’t want to reward this destructive, disrespectful behavior, but he also knew that he needed his daughter to eat.

“Want some applesauce?” he said, as a peace offering.

Lila’s face scrunched.

“No applesauce, huh?” Ben muttered. He glanced at the mess across the highchair and the formerly white tile on the floor. “Your mother’s gonna have a conniption.”

“Mommy?” Lila asked. “Mommy’s home?”

“No, she’s not here right now,” Ben replied. “She’ll be home later.”

Lila seemed to understand, because that’s when she got upset again. Her red-stained finger drew a shapeless form in the sauce as she pouted. At least she wasn’t crying.

Ben sighed, once again, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Fuck it.

“You want some ice cream?” he bribed.

Her sadness dissipated at the thought; she smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah!”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grumbled.

After a scoop of strawberry ice cream for each of them (she liked it because it was pink), Ben wrangled her up out of the highchair and declared, bath time.

He did fine with the bathing process. He’d helped you with this before, and so he knew what to do in order to wash the sauce off her face, hands, and even her hair. It was what came after the bath that remained a problem.

Lila was stubborn beyond belief, even before she could articulate what it was about the soft green onesie that she didn’t like. No, she wasn’t satisfied until Ben pulled out the yellow Starlight themed pajamas. Probably because they had “Auntie Annie’s” face all over them.

He rolled his eyes, but this wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. He dressed Lila and tried to tuck her into bed for her afternoon nap. The problem was, she refused to lie still in the crib.

Instead, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, using the edge of the crib for balance. He’d be impressed, if she wasn’t trying to climb out and give him a small heart attack.

He grabbed her and gathered her against his chest. Despite the super strength you’d temporarily displayed off and on throughout your pregnancy, Lila’s powers were latent at the moment. Dr. Baker seemed to think Lila would start to display them once she got old enough. Like Ryan, who hadn’t started growing into his powers until around 10 years old.

So for now, Lila was a mostly normal two-year-old who could still get hurt.

Ben frowned. “This is the time you usually go down. Why do you have so much energy?”

She just giggled at him and put both hands on his face, over his eyes.

“Daddy, guess who?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help smiling. As usual, he indulged her.

“Could it be my baby girl?”

He waited until her hands came away from his eyes, and he opened them wide.

“There she is!”

She squealed and giggled and grabbed his hair when he kissed her cheek. In the comfort of his own home, he could afford to be this openly affectionate.

Aw shit, he thought, as something occured to him.

He finally realized why she was so fucking hyper. Maybe it had something to do with the giant scoop of ice cream she’d had for lunch.

Goddamn it. Ben sighed and unwrapped her arm from around his head.

“Okay, let’s watch some TV.”

Lila didn’t seem all that interested in watching anything, or even playing with her toys. She mainly wanted to jump on Ben’s stomach while he was trying to relax on the couch. He put on a football game you taped for him. Or recorded, as you'd said.

“All right, enough. Your old man’s trying to watch the game,” Ben said, bringing Lila down to sit in lap.

That lasted for about two seconds. Thereafter, she was climbing up his chest and trying to smother him with her little hands.

He took her hand from his nose so he could at least breathe in peace.

“Where’s Mommy?” Lila asked, as she sat on his shoulder and beat a little fist on the top of his head.

“She’s with your aunt,” Ben replied. “Well, not your real one, the fake one.”

Lila made a sound of confusion. Realizing that she didn’t know what the hell he meant, he rephrased.

“She’s with your Aunt Annie. They’ll be back soon,” he said.

He didn’t mind you wanting a day out to yourself. What he minded was the attitude you’d struck when he suggested dropping Lila off with Louisa, your actual sister.

“What, you can’t handle her alone for one day?” you’d asked.

His pride hadn’t allowed him to say no to that.

So here he was, with a wily toddler who was doing her damndest to suffocate him. Better attempts than this had failed, but it was still annoying while he was trying to watch the game.

Somehow, he managed to tune it out while he watched the ref make a bad call.

“What was that?! You gotta be kidding me!” Ben said, holding Lila to his chest even as he pointed and shouted at the TV. “Son of a bitch. What a pussy call that was.”

“Bish, bish, bish,” Lila said, making a game out of the word. It called Ben’s attention.

He forgot about the game for a moment when he looked down at her. His eyes widened a fraction, even as a smile pulled at his lips.

“What’d you just say?”

“Bishhhhhh,” Lila repeated. “Somvabishhhh.” Her lips squished like a fish. And then she giggled, like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“Aw, fuck,” Ben uttered.

And he pressed his lips together with ever widening eyes at what he’d just said.

Lila grinned. “Fack!”

“Uhh, no. No. Don’t say that,” he said, trying to sound stern. Inside, he was trying not to laugh. He didn't really give a shit what she said, but you were particular about the kid not inheriting his vocabulary.

In fact, he was pretty sure you were going to go nuclear for this one.

“Why?” Lila asked.

“Because it’s uh…a bad word,” Ben replied, even though he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. This was what he’d become. A suburban dad.

"And it's not ladylike," he added.

“Fackkkk,” Lila giggled some more.

Christ on a cross. Ben bit the inside of lip hard to stop himself from laughing.

“Whatever. Just don’t say it around your mom,” he relented. He brushed his fingers through her soft brown hair. She preened at the attention, like the little showboat she was.

“Daddyyyy…” Lila wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled as deeply into him as she could, like a koala clinging to a shaking branch.

Ben sighed and rubbed a hand up and down her back as he cradled her against him.

These were the moments he didn’t mind. In fact, these were the moments he did his best to remember. They helped block out the older, darker ones that this kid would never know.

Ben woke to the shutter of a camera going off.

He blinked his bleary eyes open to find you standing there with a highly amused smile on your face, and your phone poised in your hand.

He groaned, but he soon realized that Lila was sleeping in his arms, on his chest. You leaned down and rested a hand on her back. You also greeted him with a kiss to his temple.

“Long day?” you teased quietly.

Ben gave you a deadpan look, one that had you straining to taper down your giggles. Though he drew you closer by your hip and squeezed the soft flesh over your white sundress. He took you in with a lazy once-over.

You looked good. Sexy as hell, really. Your face was glowing and relaxed, and he liked the shade of red you’d done on your nails.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, massaging his shoulder. Though you arched a brow. “There’s a catastrophe in the kitchen.”

Ben blinked.

Fuck. He forgot about that.

“Yep,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk of his own. “Right on time for you, baby.”

You chuckled, though your eyes narrowed in warning. “Yeah, right.”

You still helped him put Lila down in the nursery for the rest of her nap. She yawned and turned over onto her back. You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, though you had to smile when it accidentally left the red mark of your lipstick behind.

You bit your lip and gently rubbed it off without waking her up. (An amazing damn feat, as far as you were concerned.)

Ben laid a heavy hand on your back, prompting you to straighten up and turn into his waiting embrace.

His lips curved as he looked down at you. “Hey.”

You laughed quietly. “Hey, yourself.”

Your hands glided up his chest, and further still to hold his face. You brought him down to kiss you, with your fingers slipping into his hair, and your nails dragging along his scalp. He hummed into your mouth.

“Miss me?” you teased.

Ben huffed. As usual though, his answer was in his actions. He held you close for a moment, just to feel you there.

Your arms slipped around his, clinging to his shoulders as you rested against him. This was your safe, comfortable place where you always felt at home.

But, you couldn’t help but break the spell.

“Come on. Clean up on aisle 12,” you quipped, reaching around to smack his ass.

Ben rolled his eyes, but when you pulled away from him, he followed you into the kitchen.

“You know, I had a lot going on. Your kid is a fucking menace,” he said. “Like a bull in a China shop.”

You scoffed. “She’s only my kid when she gives you a hard time. Where do you think she gets it from?”

“You,” he retorted.

You had to laugh at that one. It still didn’t get him out of helping you clean the kitchen from top to bottom.

After a long shower, waking an errant child from her nap, dinner, and a joint effort of getting Lila to sleep for the night, Ben joined you in bed wearing just his usual sweatpants.

You’d opted for some black satin, he noticed.

Good, he thought, for the night to come. You’d spent the whole day getting massaged and moisturized and whatever else women did on a day out.

When he rolled onto his side, you greeted him with a smile and a hand running up his arm, already pulling him toward you. His hand glided along your bare thigh as you hooked it over his hip.

“I need to tell you something, but you’ve gotta promise not to say anything to anyone,” you whispered in the small space between his face and yours, and you tapped his chin.

Ben raised a brow and squeezed your thigh. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait until long after he’d undressed you?

“What?” he asked.

“Annie’s pregnant!” you said with a wide smile. “Six weeks. She just told me today.”

Ben blinked at that one. “Is it Hughie’s kid?”

“Wha…of course, it is!”

“Wow. Guess he had it in him after all,” Ben remarked. “Who woulda thought.”

You shook your head, but his grin made you laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, through your remaining giggles, though you leaned forward and stole a kiss. It led Ben to want more, and more of you.

He started to ply you with slow, lazy kisses that grew deeper, becoming all-consuming as his tongue warred against yours. His hands dove under the satin covering your body, and his thumbs brushed the sides of your breasts.

“Maybe it’s time we go for number two,” he said.

You uttered another incredulous laugh, gripped a fist in his hair and tugged. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” Ben said. He rolled you onto your back and pinned you there. “Ain’t no way we’re stopping at one. Lila needs a brother.”

“You can’t even handle one,” you teased. Your hands slid up his arms and then down his chest. “Baby, we can talk about having more kids, but—”

“And? We’re talking now,” he said. He dipped his head to start kissing a hot, wet line down your neck. It made your breath falter and your back start to arch. Your hips shifted against his, trying to find friction. You could feel his length hardening against your thigh.

“Ben,” you warned, and implored, but the graze of his teeth on your neck made you shudder.

Your grip on his arms tightened. “Please…”

“Please what?” he smirked against your skin. His hips rocked against your heated core.

This conversation was going into a no man’s land very fast.

You literally took matters into your own hands…by reaching down and grasping your husband’s cock through his sweatpants. You gave him a demanding squeeze.

His breath hitched. Ben paused, unlatching from your neck, and turning his lips toward your cheek.

“I’m listening,” he said, in a gritted voice. You smirked.

“We can, and we will talk about this,” you promised. “Just not when you’re about to be balls-deep inside me.”

You were back on birth control anyway (the pill this time).

Ben chuckled. His hand reached up and smoothed your hair away from your forehead.

“Fine,” he conceded. A smirk grew across his face. “But we can still practice.”

A giggle fell from your lips, just before he claimed them once again.

AN: A little callback to the BMD Epilogue at the end there. 😂

What did you think about the father/daughter time? And do you think Ben won against either of the ladies in his life? 🤣

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, in a drama-filled episode, you and Ben do what you two do best in Calculated Risks:

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

▶️ Keep Reading: Calculated Risks

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxoviennaa @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[unpersoniverse]

Skén:nen sá:sewh

as promised, here's Precious boy™ getting kissed by Precious wife™ because he deserves all the love in the world :cc

translation: Get home safe

[eddienotcursed]

“Couldn’t get lieutenant Bites to smile in the picture though”

Family picccccccc

[eunoiaastralwings]

Your Baby’s Weird but Amusing Obsession

featuring bucky x wife!reader with their son

fandom mcu- tfatws era ?

a/n dont ask me why i just did - it was too cute not to writ. reader is lowkey my oc - am sorry. . . and btw - you can NOT unconvince me Bucky will not name his son after himself - personal headcanon you can not undo that for me - HE SO WANTS HIS JAMES JR XD

warnings just fluff. just before you read just know am dyslexic

You were playing mat with yours and Bucky’s 2-month baby boy as Bucky came in.

His son immediately looks up at Bucky and chortles a few giggles – seeing his dad and 2-month-old baby holds up his tiny arms at Bucky.

Bucky’s face brightens up when he sees them – and his bright blue eyes soften.

He walks forward and kneels on one knee next to the play mat and carefully picks him up and places him in his arms – before leaning back against the couch while the 3 of them sat on the play mat.

You smile – your heart melting at the exchange.

They had named their son James Steven Barnes, after Bucky’s first name of James and of course Steve, or Cap’s name for his middle name– but you took the liberty of nicknaming your son Jay – while you were at it.

You laugh as just as immediately Bucky had picked up their son, his toothless gums were instantly on Bucky’s vibranium arm.

Jay had a strange obsession with his dad’s metal arm – for some reason or the other he just loved it.

Bucky glances at you – but since you offered no assistance – his eyes then drift back to his son chewing on his arm, brow furrowed in contemplation.

Jay chortles a few giggles at his dad – his saliva dripping having left a slobbery grip on his dad’s arm. You couldn't help but throw you head back and laugh.

Bucky looks a tad bit annoyed and tries to pry the baby off his vibranium arm.

“That's not food, son. It’s metal.”

He says.

You couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

Bucky sighed and tries to pry off his baby’s slobbery grip – giving you a little scowl.

“Jay, c’mere. Let daddy have his arm back.”

Bucky says – as he tried and cooed a little to Jay.

Jay only chortles a few giggles – his bright blue eyes looking up at his dad as if he as content in this manner.

You couldn't help but snicker again as Jay refused to let go – the kid was too strong.

This happened every time, Bucky picked him up.

“Give me my arm back, Jay.”

Bucky says – this time, his tone of voice was a little sterner – but low not wanting to scare his baby, of course.

The baby only giggles and chortles – but still doesn’t let go.

“You’re son’s so weird!"

You giggled – now finally leaning to help get your 2-month son’s toothless gums off your husband’s metal arm – but Jay continued to leave a slobbery grip on his dad’s vibranium arm.

Bucky chuckles – despite his annoyance.

“He got that from his mother.”

He teases.

He then reaches down and attempts to pry Jay off his metal arm again.

You raised an eyebrow taking your hands away.

“Do you want my help or not?”

You smirked.

Bucky shakes his head – smiling.

“No, I’ve got this.”

He then tries again to pry your son off his arm – but still fails.

“Ok!”

You shrugged leaning back to watch as your 2-month son continued to leave his slobbery grip his dad’s metal arm.

“Jay, c’mon. Give back daddy’s arm.”

Bucky asks – sounding a little frustrated now.

“Jay, be nice.”

Bucky says.

The baby still doesn’t let go of his dad’s arm.

“C’mon, Jay.”

He says -  trying once again to pry him off.

After a minute – you amusedly shakes your head.

“Hey, my baby, come here!”

You cooed softly holding out your hands to your little son – as you puckered your lips to kiss his cheek as you gently picked up your 2-month baby off Bucky.

Bucky laughs – watching the scene, shaking his head as he wipes off Jay’s saliva off his metal arm with a tissue.

“So, the kid will give me a hard time but listen to you?”

He puts his arm on your shoulder.

You smirked.

 “I’m the favorite!”

You say – blowing raspberry kisses on Jay’s cheek.

The baby giggles and blows raspberries back.

“Yeah, I guess you are. Can’t blame the kid, though. You’re pretty great.”

Bucky says – smiling at his wife.

Once again – he puts his arm on your shoulder, hugging you to his side.

You giggled and cooed your little 2-month baby.

“Mama’s the best!”

You say.

Your baby stares at you for a moment – then chortles and giggles, blowing more raspberries at you.

“See?”

You smirk – turning to your husband.

"Yeah, I get it.”

Bucky sighs, rolling his eyes and chuckles

Jay blows more raspberries at you – and you respond by blowing more raspberries at him.

Bucky laughs.

“You two are adorable.”

He says – watching his little family.

@winterarmyy-too - if you're interested <3

[cabinette]

Guess who's back

[raddestrose]

An assortment of MXTX memes for your troubles my dear friends

[ariesrain]

Look, I think it's pretty obvious that you came here tonight looking for something, so we might as well just get to the point.

[buckrecs]

Jealous / Possessive

masterlist | req masterlist

Tease by @beckzorz

A fake date with a Danish alien tech dealer. Bucky gets bored, and maybe a little jealous, while he’s waiting in the command truck outside. It’s all downhill from there.

Jealousy Jealousy by @antiquarianfics

seeing red by @buckysfaveplum

bucky can’t just sit and watch as a man makes you uncomfortable in a bar

Jealous by @pellucid-constellations

You keep talking about the owner of that new bakery and it’s rubbing Bucky the wrong way.

All Over You by @jobean12-blog

Walker tries to put the moves on you, Bucky’s jealous and protective but a dumbass, Sam has to watch the whole thing…(he’s so done with their shit)

Green by @itsapeterthing

three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it

Headcanon by @icarus-fell-in-spring

Jealous!Bucky Barnes would include

I don’t get jealous by @this-ginger-has-no-soul

bucky where your ex-fiancee comes back and you have to work w/ him and bucky becomes real protective

Erase Every Trace by @angrythingstarlight

Bucky had to sit back and watch another man touch you, but now that the ruse is over, he’s going to erase every trace of him off your skin.

Can you not… by @buckyalpine

Your ex is trying to win you back, wonder what Bucky thinks about that?

Jealousy by @halcyonrogers

Bucky watches from afar as you converse with Peter Parker, the new teenage recruit. Things begin to heat up on Peter’s end as he keeps paying you compliments, and Bucky takes things into his own hands.

Around My Neck by @mcu1shots

Bucky notices your new necklace, he isn't sure he's a fan.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

The Best Fun Is After Girl’s Night » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: You come home from girl’s night with your friends and you and your husband decide to have some fun of your own.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, brief mention of alcohol, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, tit fucking, male receiving, unprotected sex, soft sex, praise kink, vibranium arm kink, Bucky’s dog tags, aftercare, pet names

A/N: @katherineswritingsblog and I were talking about this and she persuaded me to write it🥰 also she provided the gif for this🩷

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Bucky sighs as he walks in the house. He took his jacket off as he walked in the kitchen, tossing it on the counter. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured himself some whiskey before going to the living room to relax. He turned the TV on and took a sip of his drink. He took his phone out of his pocket when he felt it vibrate. He smiles widely when he sees a text from you.

Doll🩷: On my way home🩵

Bucky smiles and took another sip of his drink. You went out for girl’s night with your friends, but he just wants you to come home. He tried his best to wait patiently for you to come home. After a while, you came home. You heard the sound of the TV in the living room and made your way to your husband. You approached the back of the couch and rubbed your hands against Bucky’s strong chest.

“Hi, baby.” You whispered in his ear.

“Hi, babydoll.” Bucky whispers back, his voice sounding husky.

You walked around to the front of the couch. Bucky licked his lips and bit his bottom lip when he seen your outfit. He reached out for your hand, pulling you onto his lap. He got a an eyeful of your breasts in your dress. His hands slid up your sides, stopping underneath your breasts, rubbing his thumbs against the underside of your breasts. He got an interesting idea the more he stared at your breast.

“I would like to try something interesting with you tonight.” Bucky says, not taking his eyes off your breasts.

“What is it?” You asked curiously.

“I would like to fuck your tits.” He admits. “You gonna let me fuck these gorgeous tits, doll?” He asks.

“You can do anything you want to me, baby. I’m your wife.” You say.

Bucky’s hands moved from under your breasts to the backs of your thighs, grabbing onto them. He stood up and took you to the bedroom. He sat you on the bed and kissed you hungrily, leaving you breathless when he pulled away.

“Take that fucking dress off before I rip it off.” He says, almost growling.

You giggled and stood up. You let the straps of your dress fall from your shoulders and you pushed the dress down your body, letting it pool around your feet. You stepped out of it and kicked it to the side. You took your panties off and dropped them on the floor next to your dress. You were about to take your heels off, but Bucky stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on.” He tells you. “They look fucking hot.” He says.

Bucky pulled you against his body and kiss you hungrily again.

“Be a good girl and lay down on your back.” He orders.

You obeyed his orders and laid down on the bed, propping your head up against the pillow. You turned your head to the side, watching Bucky strip out of his clothes. You licked your lips at the sight of your husband’s perfectly sculpted body. Your eyes drifted down to his fingers unbuckling his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He pulled down his jeans and boxers down in one go. He wrapped his right hand around his cock, stroke it a couple times before getting on the bed. He moved upwards till he was close enough to your breasts. You were caged in between his legs, staring up at his hard cock that was leaking with precum from his tip. Bucky put his cock on your chest in between your breasts, his precum smearing against your skin.

“Push your tits together for me, doll.” Bucky tells you.

You pressed your breasts together, trapping his cock in between them. Bucky’s hands grasped onto the headboard, looking down at you. More specifically, he was staring at your breasts with his cock in between them. It’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.

He started thrusting his cock in between your breasts slowly before increasing his speed at a slow pace. You stuck your tongue out, licking his tip every time he thrusted. You moaned at the taste of his precum.

“Fuck…” Bucky moans. “Why didn’t we try this sooner?” He asks.

You hummed in response, agreeing with him. You were focused on two things… Bucky’s cock thrusting in between your breasts and the ache in between your legs. You rubbed your thighs together for some kind of relief.

“You’re enjoying this as much as me, aren’t you, babydoll?” Bucky asks.

“Mmm, yes.” You hummed.

You pressed your breasts together a little bit tighter for Bucky to have more friction on his cock. You maintained eye contact with him while licking his tip in a seductive manner.

“You’re gonna make me cum sooner than I’d like to if you keep doing that.” He pants.

You giggled and did it again. Bucky tilted his head back in pleasure and closed his eyes, enjoying the pleasure of fucking your breasts. His thrusts got faster. His tip hit your tongue every time he thrusted.

“F-Fuck…” He moans, stuttering when he felt his orgasm building up.

He lost rhythm with his thrusts for a short moment, but regained it. His breathing got heavier the faster his orgasm built up. He looked down at the hot sight of his wife below him, almost cumming at the sight.

“Fuck!” Bucky moans loudly as he came.

His cum covered your breasts, chest, and face. Bucky slowly stopped thrusting his cock in between your breasts. He looked at his cock in between your breasts one last time before sliding his cock out from in between them and sat down next to you to catch his breath. You took your hands off of your breasts. You scooped up some of his cum on your fingers and licked it off, moaning at his taste. Bucky watched intensely.

Bucky leaned over you, kissing you passionately. He maneuvered himself so he was laying on his side. You did the same. Bucky’s vibranium hand grasped onto the back of your knee and put your leg against his hip. You moaned against his lips when his cock bumped your throbbing clit. His vibranium hand blindly found its way in between your legs, rubbing your clit softly and slowly. You whined and grinded your pussy against his hand, making him chuckle softly against your lips.

“Alright, babydoll. I’ll give you what you desperately want cause that’s what my wife deserves, right?” Bucky says.

“Yes, Bucky.” You replied.

Bucky’s vibranium hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it a couple times before lining it at your entrance. He rubbed his cock through your slick before slowly sliding it in your pussy. Your mouth fell open and you tilted your head back, enjoying the feeling of your husband’s cock sliding in your pussy. Bucky took the opportunity to kiss along the column of your throat, kissing towards the side of your neck. His teeth bit down hard enough to mark you up.

Bucky put his vibranium hand on your thigh for something to hold onto when he started thrusting. His thrusts were slow and loving. He continued to kiss along your skin. Your hand grasped onto his vibranium bicep, your nails digging in the vibranium.

“Bucky…” You moaned softly.

You moaning Bucky’s name urged him on. Your moans are music to his ears. He increased the speed of his thrusts a little bit.

“You’re so beautiful.” Bucky praises softly. “So happy you’re mine.” He almost whispers. “My wife.” He whispers.

You cracked a smile for a short moment before your mouth fell open, strings of moans and his name left your lips when his cock hit your sweet spot. Your grasp on his vibranium bicep tightened. You were convinced that your nails made lines in the vibranium.

You put your lips on his, kissing him passionately. You put your free hand on the back of his head, your fingers tugging on his hair. Bucky’s tongue licked across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slid his tongue in your mouth, exploring every inch of it.

You pulled your lips away from his, tilting your head back. Bucky went back to kissing along your skin again. You rolled your hips against his to meet his thrusts. Bucky’s vibranium hand left your thighs and went to your clit, rubbing it slowly.

“I know you’re getting close, doll. I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock.” Bucky says in your ear.

Your orgasm started to build up quicker than you liked. The more Bucky rubbed your clit and his cock hit your sweet spot. Your back arched in pleasure. You practically pressed your breasts in his face, which he didn’t mind. Bucky dipped his head down to kiss along the swells of your breasts. His lips moved down towards your nipples. His tongue swirled around one of your nipples. He repeated his actions on your other one.

“Oh fuck, Bucky… I’m going to cum.” You moaned.

“Cum for me, babydoll.” He whispers huskily. “I’m almost there too.” He says.

His name left your lips when you came. Bucky wasn’t too far behind you. After a few more thrusts, he came inside of you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. You two laid in each other’s arms with his cock inside of you while the two of you caught your breath. After a moment, Bucky pulled out of you and got out of bed to get a wet washcloth from the bathroom to clean the two of you up. Then he laid back down and cuddled you.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky whispers.

“I love you too, babe.” You say softly.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[venisonsteak403]

Alastor: so what are you, A woman?

Angel dust: no, I'm a drag queen, It means I dress in stereotypically feminine clothes, BUT I don't identify as a woman

Alastor: Ah, of course

Husk: you know, I used to be a woman

Angel dust: what

————————————————————————

Lucifer: I miss my wife

Husk: I had a wife once

Lucifer: what

————————————————————————

Charlie: ARE YOU READY TO BECOME SOLDIERS TO SAVE THE HOTEL???

Husk: I used to be a soldier

Angel dust: what

Husk: yeah, Fought During 'Nam and all

Angel dust: WHAT

————————————————————————

Vaggie: I'm an ex-exorcist angel

Husk: you know-

Angel dust: *covers husk's mouth* shhhhhhh, Shut up honey

[winniewritesstories]

Seeing Crimson | Soldier Boy x Wife!reader

Summary - You're sick of your husbands relationship with another supe, even if it's just for show. Set around 1980.

Pairings/characters - Soldier Boy (Ben) x wife, wife!reader

Warnings - language, Vought are dicks, angst with cliff hanger ending (kinda)

Language - English (British)

Word Count - 2,297

Notes - Sorry about the ending lol. Not proof read.

Credits - this imagine is partially inspired by @syrma-sensei <3

Star divider is @cafekitsune

A while ago, Vought decided Soldier Boy needed a girlfriend. You didn't pretend to understand their bullshit reasons - publicity, good image, blah, blah - and you definitely didn't understand why it couldn't be you, why you and Ben couldn't finally go public with your relationship.

Oh, no. Of all people, it had to be her. Crimson Countess. The nation's favourite whore.

When Ben had first told you, the argument had been fierce. You couldn't understand why Vought decided he needed a girlfriend, why it couldn't be you, and why it had to be her instead. Ben had reeled off the crap excuses they'd given him - it needs to be someone famous, we'd make a great power couple, you're not a supe - and it equal parts broke your heart and enraged you.

Of course you understood Ben wasn't happy about it, either. You knew he loved you - he had married you, after all - and you knew it was just for show. But it still hurt. Still pissed you off.

And then today - today, Ben and Countess had been doing some red carpet, interview type thing, and she pulled him in, kissing him firmly on the lips, leaving her bright red lipstick all over him. You'd seen it on the news, the video of their kiss playing over and over again in your mind. You could read Ben well, saw his body stiffen, his hands staying where they were, not pulling her closer. The way he pulled back quickly, jaw clenched. He hadn't been expecting it. He hadn't wanted it.

You were sat on the couch, arms crossed over your chest. Ben would be home any minute - likely with flowers, or wine, or both, ready to grovel - and you were doing your best to remain calm. Level headed. Trying to remember this wasn't him, it was Vought. The front door creaked open, and you heard him leave his boots and shield by the door - something he never usually did, which meant he was sorry and he didn't want to piss you off further.

"I'm home," he called quietly, checking the kitchen first, then rounding the corner to see you sat stoically on the couch. "Hey." He sat down next to you, close enough to bump knees gently but not too close, in case you were mad. You didn't say anything, didn't look at him, just sat staring ahead. "You mad?" he asks, as if he couldn't read it on your face. One of his arms rested on the back of the couch, the other fiddled with his super suit. You let out a sigh.

"I'm not mad at you, Ben." You say quietly, and it's true, to a certain extent. It's not his fault, not like he asked for it.

"Not even a little bit?" he asks. You give him a small, sad smile.

"Maybe a little..."

"Why a little bit?" he questions, a small frown gracing his forehead.

"You didn't bring me flowers, which you always do when you mess up." You reply with a smirk. Ben rolls his eyes fondly, his hand moving the hair off you shoulder tenderly.

"I'm so sorry I forgot your flowers, princess. Is that all you're mad about?"

"Mhmm..." You muse quietly, one finger tracing patterns over his thigh absentmindedly. His finger moves to your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes.

"You sure that's it?" he prompts again, and you try and avoid his gaze, letting out a long sigh.

"They were talking about you today, at work. You and... her."

"Saying what?" he asks, almost defensively.

"How... good you two look together. That you're a- a great couple and you'd - that you'd..." Every word feels like poison in your mouth, spitting them out through gritted teeth.

"We'd what?" he prompts, finger tracing your jaw gently.

"They said you'd make cute babies," you say finally, shoulders slumping in defeat. Next to you, Ben tenses up, clenching his jaw. He cups your cheek, making you look at him again.

"That is bullshit. Absolute crap. I love you. I married you, not her. She is - she's a - a prop. Set dressing for Vought. I love you, darlin'." he says emphatically, his rage simmering beneath the surface of his words. "You know that, right?"

"I know," you say softly, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Ben looks at your hands, recognising the anxious habit. He picks your left hand up in his own, kissing the back of your hand, the ring on your finger. He can tell there's more, something else troubling you.

"Talk to me, doll," he requests softly. Your fingers entwine in his lap, his other hand still stroking your hair.

"It's just-" You sigh sharply. "I didn't mind being a secret. I... I understood why Vought wanted it that way - why you wanted it that way. I'm fine being out of the spotlight, away from potential danger. But... this. This bullshit with Countess... I don't get it. I know, I know you gave me their crap excuses, but you and I know it's shit. I don't care about being secret, but now... now I feel like the other woman." You try and explain. Ben's hand tightens in yours, his fingers stilling their gentle wanderings through your hair. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry, darlin'. I - I never meant for this. For you to feel like this. But you - you are not the other woman, you hear? You are my wife - mine. I love you, I chose you. You could never be the other woman, okay?"

"I know that, Ben. I'm the one with - with the ring, and the house, with your last name, for crying out loud. Logically, I know all of this, but that doesn't make it any easier, doesn't make it hurt less. First Vought said you couldn't have a girlfriend because of your image, now you suddenly need one for your image? And that Crimson bitch of all people? It just - it makes me so mad." You fume, working hard to try and keep your cool. Ben, you can see, is trying to do the same.

"It's not real, though. It's just publicity." He retorts, jaw tight as he tries not to direct his anger at you.

"The way it makes me feel, the way it affects our life - that is real. Ben, every time I leave the house, I see the two of you plastered on every - every billboard, the side of every bus, on fucking soda cans. I can't even go to work without seeing a magazine with the two of you on it, or without half the department talking about you and your movies and how great you look together, and it kills me, because I just have to take it, to put up with it." I cry, frustration building, eyes welling with tears. Ben feels guilty - how could he not? - that his crap is affecting you so much, that he can't look after you properly. But, in true Ben fashion, it presents as anger.

"What the hell do you want me to do, then?" he yells. The both of you are now standing - god knows when that happened - facing each other, breathing heavily. Ben's fists are clenched, your arms crossed over your chest as you stare each other down. You both know your anger is with Vought, but now you're taking it out on each other.

"I want you to fight for me, Ben! Stand up to them, for God's sake. You're supposed to be the strongest man alive, America's greatest superhero! Fucking act like it and do something. Fight for me, for us! How are we supposed to have a future if we're living in the shadows? How can we have - children, a family?" You shout back, frustrated that he doesn't seem to get it. Why wasn't he trying harder to end this publicity stunt with Countess?

"I can't, don't you see? We have nothing without Vought, they call the shots. I can't just turn around and tell 'em to fuck off. They own me, Y/N, which means by extension, they own you too. We piss 'em off, they could - fuck, they could have you killed. We would lose everything."

"We don't need them, Ben. And they don't 'own' you. Maybe the own the - the Soldier Boy name, the suit, whatever; but they don't own you, Ben. And we could do it, we would be fine without them or with whatever consequences they throw at us, if you would just stand up for me!" You shout back, chest heaving with anger, fighting back the tears in your eyes. His eyes simmer with a dark rage you never see targeted at you.

"I am Soldier Boy, it's not just a name, a - a costume. I thought you understood that? And provided they didn't — didn't try and have you killed or something, we would lose everything. The house, the cars - all of it."  "I don't care about that! Let them have it! I don't need a fancy house or expensive cars, I need you. I married you, Ben. Not Soldier Boy, and not Vought. I chose you, I want to have a family with you, and I don't care where that happens."

"Really? You'd be fine with, what slumming it? Living in some crappy, too-small apartment, or, or a cabin in the mountains? No vacations, no fancy dinners, none of it?" he retorts condescendingly.

"Ben, I have never given a shit about that, about any of it! We could be on the streets, in a shack in the arse end of nowhere, and it wouldn't matter to me, because we'd be together. Don't you see that? I don't care where we are, how big our house is or how many vacations we go on. All of that - it matters to me because of you. It matters that this is our home that we made together, the walls that we painted this fuck-ugly green, that crooked shelf in the kitchen that you put up. It matters that you planned our vacation last year because you know I love Paris, not because we flew first class to get there. This ring - you've always known I love sapphires, that is why I love it, not because of how much it cost or where you brought it from. I don't - I don't care what it costs us, Ben, but I... I can't do this anymore. I can't feel ashamed of our relationship, I can't feel like the mistress in my own marriage. Please." Your voice gets softer with every word, until those last few sentences are barely more than a whisper, tears sneaking down your cheeks. Ben looks at you, brows furrowed, eyes displaying pain and an insurmountable love. He swallows, taking a step towards you.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, pulling you into his arms. "I'm sorry I - fuck, I'm sorry I said you only cared about - about... I love you. So much, I do. I - I can't lose you, I won't lose you." He pressed a kiss to your head, his strong arms holding you close. He pulls away, cupping your face in his hands, wiping away some of the tears. "Do you really think the walls are fuck ugly?"

You laugh, shaking your head at him. "Kind of. I... I liked the green in the store, but it doesn't look right here. That's also not the point."

"I know it's not." he says, smiling as he plays with your hair. "I'll tell them. I'll... we'll figure it out. Together. I just... we have this thing, in Nicaragua. I need the team to be together, to be focussed for that. Can you wait until then?" You nod slowly, understanding the importance of the upcoming mission.

"It'll give us a few weeks to get things in order, too." you say softly. You disliked Vought before this, but now you loathed them. Might as well take them for as much money as you could. "We could... transfer the house, the cars, into my name. Then they wouldn't have a claim on it, right?"

Ben nods thoughtfully, brows furrowed. "That's not a bad idea, doll." He sighs, looking down at you, hands still on your cheeks. "I love you. More than anything." He says earnestly, leaning down to kiss you gently.

"I love you, too." You whisper against his lips.

"After Nicaragua, then. I'll tell them to shove the Countess thing, that we're going public, take it or leave it." He says with conviction, a determination in his eyes. He presses another tender kiss to your forehead. "Did you mean what you said just then? About - about wanting a family. Kids." He asks quietly.

You smile softly, nodding your head. "Yeah. I do want a family with you, Ben. I always have." He smiles, eyes bright, as if he can't believe.

"Really? You - you want to have a baby? With me?" You nod again, chuckling softly.

"Of course I do."

"We could.... I mean, only if you wanted, of course, but... we could try. For a baby, I mean. When we go public, after Nicaragua. We could have a baby." He murmurs, almost afraid to say it aloud.

"I do want to. And yes. Let's... let's try for a baby." You reply with a tender smile, cheeks flushing a light pink at the thought.

Ben beams. "Okay then. After Nicaragua, we'll tell Vought to stick it and then have a baby." He says softly, almost reverentially.

"After Nicaragua," you repeat softly, smiling at the thought.

🫣 sorry about the ending!! please let me know if you enjoyed!!

[paninicupcakke]

Spy shitpost dump 🔪

Emesis blu but if it was toxic yaoi <3

[graveyardpoker]

Ouugghh my wife...my wife benny...