#winter solider drabble

[sun-kissy]

bucky barnes who doesn’t trust unless it comes to you. whose eyes soften at the sight of you, because his heart knows that it’s okay to let his guard down. he believed the world always had its claws out to get him, until he fell straight into your gentle arms. he tells you the word love meant nothing to him until you came along.

bucky barnes who would live for you. the winter soldier would kill for anyone, the white wolf would die for anyone, but bucky would live for you. he’s never believed in fate, but if it wasn't destiny that brought you to him, he doesn’t know what it was. he thinks maybe it was all worth it, the trauma and the scars and the pain, if it all lead up to the moment when you told him i love you.

bucky barnes who searches for you even in nightmares, screams your name till his lungs burn with self-hatred. you’re his safe space, his home. he’s drawn back to wakefulness as soon as he feels your touch, the gentleness of your breath on his skin like an aching balm to his wounds. he’ll never stop apologising for the burden that comes with his affection, yet he won’t ever stop loving you.

bucky barnes who thinks of hurting you as no less than a sin. who believes even pulling out a single strand of your hair is a hundred times worse than every murder committed as the winter soldier. because what’s a few dozen people in comparison to his whole universe?

bucky barnes who wakes up a little earlier in the morning; not to see the sun rise, but to watch the soft rays dapple your face. he thinks you look angelic, the golden hue painting you in so much beauty that he feels blessed; wonders if he ought to start praying to gods he never once believed in.

bucky barnes who tells you he loves you more times than he can count. whose voice is hardened from years of tortured, ragged cries; but the word doll tumbles out of his lips like soft petals when he looks at you. he knows seven different tongues, and is fluent in every single one. he claims that none of them have the words to describe how you make him feel.

bucky barnes who kisses like a hungry dog, like there’s an ache in his soul that can only be filled by the feeling of your lips on his, skin to skin. he believes the sole purpose of his metal arm is to pin you to the wall. roughness is the only form of love he’s ever known.

bucky barnes who buys you everything you talk about in passing, who takes you out wherever your heart yearns to go, who kisses your knuckles with the softest touch of his lips. he inhales when you exhale at night to make space for the rise of your chest. he only ever holds your hand with his non-metal one so as to not hurt you. he traces your features while you sleep. he loves you with the full force of the word, because you’re his girl.

bucky barnes who could never unlove you, would never want to. even if the strings of his soul were tied to another, he would cut them off and run straight to you.

[tuiccim]

We're Gonna Burn

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

“What the hell was that, Barnes?” You practically yell as you push open the front door of the safe house you’d been directed to. 

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen anything like it. God, the smell!” He shakes his head.

“It’s burned into my nostrils. All I can smell is that sweet flower smell. You’ve never seen that pink powder?” You throw your things to the floor, looking around the small, remote house. 

“No, I’d tell you if I did, damnit! Why do you keep asking?” Bucky growls. 

“You’re not the most forthcoming person! Shit, I think you’ve spoken more in the last two minutes than in the three months I’ve known you! Jesus, fuck, I’ve gotta get rid of this smell. I’m so fucking hot,” your voice gets smaller as you speak. You can’t think straight but head towards the bathroom, unzipping your tac suit and pulling it from your arms as you go. You slam the door and lock it. You turn the cold water on full blast and nearly fall over in your haste to get your suit off. The frigid spray helps for a few moments and you revel in it, but soon another type of heat begins to take over. Your clit throbs and when you place your hand between your legs, your wetness coats your fingers. The shower stops bringing relief and instead, the water coursing down your body seems to only make you hornier. You give in to the need that takes hold and circle your clit. It feels amazing and it takes only a couple of minutes for your orgasm to break over you. You  bite your lip to hold in the moans, not wanting the asshat on the other side of the door to hear you. 

Your body has a moment of relief but then the heat builds again, even quicker this time. You dip your fingers inside of you in a desperate attempt to stop it. The second orgasm you managed to pull did little to help your body and your fingers keep working furiously to bring another in hope of relief. Your moans are spilling from your lips without a care now. You just need to get this to stop. You’re disturbed when the door rattles and a fist bangs loudly. 

“Open the door! I need to get in there,” Bucky bellows. 

You wanted to scream at him to go away but you could barely form words. You hated the stupid supersoldier from the moment you met him. He questioned your every turn. Whether it was about your skill, experience, or motives. He never lets you get through a single conversation without making you feel like a lesser part of the team. 

“Goddamnit, let me in!” He yells more loudly. 

Nothing your hand was doing was helping any longer. You couldn’t think straight and, before you can make a move or form a thought, the door splinters open from a kick. A very naked Bucky comes through the door and your eyes widen as you see his cock standing at attention. He steps into the spray of the cold shower and growls. His hand works his cock furiously while his other rests on the tiles. His head falls forward as he lets the cold water fall down his back. You stand behind him, your hand still between your legs. 

“Fuck, what’s happening to us?” you whimper as you lean your feverish forehead onto his back. The cool water does nothing to help but where your skin touches his tingles with relief. Abandoning all pride, you press your entire body to his and the fever seems to cool wherever you touch but your clit throbs even harder. Your cunt weeps, begging for attention.You rub yourself against him, your nipples pebbling at the contact with his back. 

With a growl, Bucky turns around and you quickly back up to press your back against the wall of the shower. He stares at you, breathing hard. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble in your haze, “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so hot and-” 

You gasp as Bucky bends down, grabs your legs, and drags you up the tiles. You squeal and reach for any handhold as he puts your legs over his shoulders and attacks your clit with his tongue. 

“Oh, fuck!” You scream as one hand lands on the ceiling to help you balance and the other buries in his hair. His tongue swirls over your clit expertly. His hands squeeze your ass as he gorges himself on you. It doesn’t take long for you to buck your hips as you come all over his face. As he sets you down, you squeeze your thighs together but your body simply screams that it wants more. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. “It’s not working. Nothing helps,” you whimper, tears forming. It’s obvious by watching him that this is affecting him almost as much as you. His supersoldier serum must be helping him but he was burning just the same. 

Bucky sighs as he steps closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours with his eyes closed and whispers, “I think there’s only one thing that’s going to help.”

You put your arms around his neck, “Just do it!” You wrap a leg around his to encourage him and he lifts you up. He presses your back into the wall as he lines himself up with your entrance. He paused there for a second as if he was fighting himself. “Please, Barnes, please! I need it!” You can’t believe you’re begging the man you hate to fuck you but your body was demanding it and if he didn’t you were sure you would burn to death. If you had been thinking straight, you would probably prefer to burn but, at this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled. 

“Goddamnit,” he whispers as he presses in. Your body bows with pleasure. 

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice reverberates off the tile walls as you shout with relief. He begins to pump and your body trembles with each motion of his cock. He grabs your ass as he pounds into you and you know he’s as lost in the meeting of your bodies as you are. Your cunt flutters around him, pulling him in, begging for him to come inside of you. Your rational mind has gone completely silent and you are filled with only carnal lust. Every motion of his hips takes you higher and it’s all you want. “Don’t stop,” you grip his shoulders harder. 

“Fuck,” Bucky grunts. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to and, truth was, this was the best thing he’d felt in a long time.

“Oh, God, oh, God, I’m- yes!” You release a long, high-pitched moan as you come. Your pussy grips his cock as his hips stutter. He comes with a long moan that makes you clench around him more firmly. You stay there for a few moments, catching your breath, and blessedly your body finally starts to cool. You release your legs from around his waist and he gently sets you down. You can’t look at him and instead maneuver yourself back under the cold spray. You rinse off quickly and step out of the shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exit the bathroom to find your pack and some clothes. While you rifle through your pack, you feel your temperature creeping up again and then you double over from the intense wave that rolls over you. “No, no, not again,” you whisper to yourself. You look over to the broken bathroom door where Bucky still is and consider your options. Sex had given you the relief you needed but it was short lived. Your mind runs amuck with questions. What the hell was that powder? What was it doing to you? How long would this last? How many times would it take to stop this heat from trying to burn you alive? Was sex really the only relief you would find? Another pang hit and knocked the breath from your body. You were gasping in pain when an arm picked you up around your middle. 

He was still wet from the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry off. The pains had hit him and he went to the only place he knew he could find relief. He carried you to the small bed in the house and set you down on your hands and knees. He grips your hips tightly and pauses for a moment as another rush of heat spreads over him, “I need-”

“Just do it,” your words come out in a rush, pressing back into him. 

He enters you without preamble. Pulling you back to meet each motion of his hips, his moans give evidence of the pleasure and relief that the connection brings. You reach under you to play with your clit, trying to bring your orgasm on more quickly. Each of Bucky’s swift thrusts has you crying out with pleasure and he moves your hand away to bring you to orgasm himself. He wanted to feel you clench around him as you had before. 

“Oh, fuck, just like that,” you whine, “Just like that, don’t- don’t stop, oh, fuck.”

Bucky moans as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock with your orgasm. The sounds you release are a hit straight to his cock and he comes hard, thrusting with each spurt into you. Breathing heavily, you both collapse on the bed. You lay on your side facing away from him while taking stock of your body. The relief you felt with your orgasm was short lived as heat began to build again after only a few minutes. 

You feel like crying as your body radiates waves of heat. You turn over to face Bucky. He is lying on his back, his metal arm slung over his eyes, and his right hand fisting his hard cock. You make your decision quickly. Pulling his hand away, you straddle him and guide his cock inside of you. You move your hips slowly, hoping that perhaps if you stretched out the sex, it would keep the pain at bay longer. His hands grip your thighs as you rock slowly, his head is thrown back with eyes tightly closed. You looked at him for a moment and still couldn't believe that of all the teammates this could happen with, it had to be this asshole. When you first met him, you thought he was hot as fuck but as his personality (or lack there of) reared it’s ugly head you found him less and less attractive. Your anger at the situation grew as you rode him and you found yourself leaning forward, chasing your orgasm to just get this over with. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky bucks up into you, causing you to cry out. He repeats the motion over and over again until your body spasms around him. He comes with a grunt as he watches your face contort with pleasure. You collapse on his chest without looking at him. You wondered if keeping your bodies connected would keep the heat from returning. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks softly. 

You sigh weakly as you felt the now familiar warmth beginning to spread, “I was hoping…” You let out a frustrated grunt, “I was hoping if we stayed touching it would be enough. But it’s starting again.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Bucky acknowledges his own heat building. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that,” you grouse.

“I think… I think this might be a pheromone or something Hydra created to force procreation. I heard of the experiments but they abandoned it when it didn’t produce the results they wanted.”

“Which was?” You ask as your hips make slow circles. You can feel his cock quickly hardening inside of you. 

“Naturally born supersoldiers,” Bucky strains out the words. 

“So, we’re gonna have sex until we die or what?”

“Usually wore off in a few hours but until then…” he trails off as he gots lost in the sensations. 

“Fuck,” you groan, partially out of frustration, partially from the pleasure his thick cock was producing. 

“Basically,” Bucky says and you surprise yourself by laughing at the droll comment. You are even more surprised a second later when Bucky rolls you under him. He buries his face in your neck as he pulls your leg up higher and thrusts. You throw your head back as the pleasure begins to build again. 

“Harder,” you whimper. 

Bucky complies immediately and you whimper with each stroke. Grabbing onto him, you get lost in the feeling of his cock pounding into you sharply. You were glad that he at least was decent at this. Or was it that whatever the damn contaminant was made everything feel amazing? You were getting close with the steady way he fucked you and words started to pour out of your mouth. You were usually quite vocal in bed but hadn’t wanted to give Bucky the satisfaction. Now, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Oh, god, it’s so good. Don’t stop, right there. It’s so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” You let out a loud moan as you come hard and Bucky’s hips work even faster as he nears his own end. When he comes on a broken cry, your body revels in the feeling of him emptying himself in you.

The rational side of your brain sounded far away but was still screaming at the situation. In a moment of it managing to take hold, you push Bucky off of you and roll away from him. Breathing heavily, you pray that this is over. Surely, this was enough to satisfy anything. You will yourself to stay cool, to not allow the heat to return, to hold onto any shred of sanity you can find, but despite it all, the heat built again. You felt like screaming but you knew that nothing you did would help. You turn back to Bucky and say frustratedly, “Ready for another round?” You can’t meet his eyes but you knew neither of you could handle the pain and heat. You needed each other. 

Bucky turns to you, “Hey.” He waits, wanting you to look him in the eyes but you just stare at his chest. “Hey.”

“What?” You say waspishly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“Never mind,” he says as he grabs you and pulls your back against his chest. His cock nudges you from behind and you maneuver your hips to allow him entry. His thrusts are quick and sharp but his fingers on your clit are pure magic. He’s learned your body quickly but instead of leading you straight to orgasm this time, he works you to the precipice and then backs off repeatedly. You understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to prolong the sex in hopes of not having to come inside you any more than he already had but it was as if your body only got angrier with each denial. 

“It’s not working! Just let me come!” You finally cry out, your frustration having reached its breaking point.

“Say it,” Bucky growls.

You wrack your muddled brain trying to grasp what he wants and latch on to the only word you can find, “Please!”

“No, say my name.”

You would normally reel angrily at a command from him but the effects this powder had on you makes you compliant from need. You stutter as your tongue tries to cooperate, “B- Barnes.”

“No,” he says darkly, “Say it.”

“Bucky,” you grind the word out through your teeth. You had never once called him that. It had always been some variant of his last name. You felt even more vulnerable now.

Bucky doesn’t utter a word but he moves his hips faster and his fingers do their job. When you finally come, your whole body spasms and you scream. The sound was foreign to your ears but the orgasm just kept going. You fluttered around Bucky’s cock, milking him of cum. You stay in that position for the next two rounds of sex. Then you got on top again to give Bucky a break but this time you faced away from him. You couldn’t look at him. When you had rode him to two orgasms and yourself to utter exhaustion, he turned you on your stomach to fuck you again. You lost count of the number of times you had sex. More orgasms than you’d ever had in your life were accomplished and you didn’t have any clue how many times he came. You fucked until you both passed out. 

Waking up fourteen hours later, you felt as if you had the worst hangover you’d ever experienced. You glance at the spot Bucky had been in but he was gone. On the table by the bed was a couple of bottles of water, a protein bar, and a bottle of pain reliever. You raised your eyebrow at the items but just shrugged as you tore into all of them. You notice your pack is by the bed and you get up to put clothes on. The first thing you notice is the soreness between your legs but really your whole body hurts. You listen for a moment but don’t hear anything in the house. Peeking out the door, you see the empty living room and slip into the bathroom. You shower quickly, trying not to remember what happened in the small space just yesterday. 

You jump when a knock sounds while you are dressing. You call out, “Yes?”

“Exfil will be here in five minutes,” Bucky says through the broken door. 

“I’ll be right out,” you say. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t imagine facing him after everything. Would he act like nothing happened or gloat like the asshole he is? You wonder if you will ever be able to look him in the face again. You look at yourself, surprised that you still look the same as you did yesterday because you know you’ll never be the same again. But you didn’t have time to dwell on that. Now, you had a jet to catch.

Part 2

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[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

[cheriebrat]

Bucky gently wiping his girl’s never ending tears as she tries to apologize for trying to escape a third time, promising him she’ll never do it again only for him to chain her back up for the rest of the night but he knows that she’ll be his perfect little Stockholm princess in no time, especially when the winter soldier is there to help sort her out💞

fuckkkkkk.

warnings; fem!reader, kidnapping, early stages of stockholm syndrome, soft but manipulative bucky, mentions of the winter soldier coming out to play (😏), (perhaps opportunity for an au here!!!)

Your cheeks are glossy with the seemingly never ending wave of tears that portend their descent over your flushed cheeks. Your pulse thrums against your neck, skittering like a nervous doe when Bucky's thumb slides over the tender spot beneath your jaw. His amorous touch only serves to have you sobbing harder, tearing at the loose fitting tee that hangs around your neck as though the fabric is suffocating you.

"Shh, shh," Bucky coos, a thumb coasting the length of your waterline – a futile attempt to plug your tear ducts and slow the second onslaught of frantic tears. "Take it easy."

"I'm sorry," you wail. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have done it."

Your breath comes in wheezing pants, voice petering out into a whisper as terror's icy grip clamps around your throat and you start to sob in earnest. Bucky sighs, scooping you up tight against his chest and pressing a chaste peck to your sweat-slick temple.

You thrash and cant away from the touch, your body poised tightly and waiting for the punishing blow that is no doubt on its way. His arms tighten over your frame, biceps bulging with the effort it's taking to keep you from squirming out of his grip.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, baby. Stop," he growls, his voice a harsh, grating bite against your fragile ears. Bucky's cadence had come out crueller than he would have liked, and he pets your hair in an effort to dissuade you from panicking beneath his firm grasp.

"Please, I won't do it again. You have to believe me, I'll never do it again," you snivel, bowing your head low until your features are obscured.

"You said that last time, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You can't keep doin' this. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bile crawls up your throat, hot and fast. Your chest burns.

"I feel sick."

"I know." He pulls the hair back from your balmy cheeks as you start to retch and heave, sobs still clawing from your chest all the while. You know what comes next, as does he.

"Please don't- don't put me down there. Please, I'm sorry."

"Do you need me to let Winter out, hm? You want him to take you down there, or me?"

You go stock still. Everything slows, Bucky's voice sticking to your ears like syrup. "No, no. I'll be good, I'm sorry," you croak, lips filling with air as you suppress another retch.

The mere mention of the soldier is enough to halt every ounce of defiance in your body. Winter is far less forgiving than Bucky, and you're not willing to take your chances.

Not tonight.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, smearing a sticky kiss along your cheekbone. "You stay down there tonight and be good for me, and we'll do something nice tomorrow, how about that?" he bargains. "I'll let you pick a movie to watch, and you can sleep in bed with me for as long as you want, yeah?"

You sag like dead weight against Bucky's chest, seeping up the warmth of the skin-on-skin contact while you still have the chance. You're in for a very long - very cold - night.

"Please don't do this to me," you whisper. Desperation clings to your every syllable, weighs down every word you speak until your voice is thick with tears.

"You know I have to, sweetheart."

His kindness makes it worse, you think. If he was cruel, if he didn't show you this... softness, maybe you could find it in yourself to hate him.

But the way he lets you cling to him, kisses the top of your head as he delivers your punishment, murmuring soft, adoring affirmations all the while... You just can't.

And you know when he lets you out in the morning, you'll be good for him. You'll accept him, in his entirety. You'll let him kiss you and tuck you into his side like you've always been there. You'll let him love you.

Maybe you can learn to love him, too.

Bucky knows you can. He just has to give it time.

[bucks-metal-arm19]

Okay, but Bucky discovering you in the shower with one of your hands between your thighs and one hand tweaking and pinching and pulling at your nipples. He’s super-serum silent so you don’t hear him or see him until his frame is lurking behind the foggy glass of your shower wall.

He was supposed to be on a mission for another two days and you were getting needy. Phone calls and bullet vibrators only work so well when you’re used to being stuffed full of his thick cock. In every position and any location you can dream up. So the squeak of surprise when his stormy eyes met yours was genuine, as was your gasp when he walked into the shower stall, fully dressed. Black tshirt clinging to his chest in the damp moisture of the spray and tac pants barely stitched together around his strong, muscular thighs.

He wasn’t mad, per se. But you were playing with his pussy and there had to be consequences. Only he got the honor to pull orgasms from you, only he got to hear those pretty moans and whines fall from your lips. They’re his. You are his.

“Spread your legs, doll.” He rasps out, eyes never leaving yours as he reaches for the detachable shower head spraying above you.

“B-Bucky, I was j-just…” you tried to explain but the growl in his chest sparked you into gear and you leaned your back against the built-in bench and spread your thighs. Baring yourself to him.

“Just playing with something that isn’t yours to play with.” He finished for you, changing the dial to ‘pulse’ before testing the pressure against his flesh palm.

“I just…” your words caught in your throat when he immediately turned the shower head towards your already sensitive, leaky cunt and pulsing clit. Your back arched and you cried out, nerves and arousal causing your eyes to close and your toes to curl.

“Actions have consequences, kitten.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 32:-“Go on, open it.” - Bucky Barnes

Fandom: MCU

Character: Bucky Barnes

Naughty or Nice: Nice

It was a quiet Christmas, one that you've been looking forward too since it meant that you got to spend with one of the most special people in your lives.

One James Buchanan Barnes

You were nervous, but it was a good kind of nervous. You had put a lot of thought into his gift, something that would reflect the side of him he rarely showed to the world. You knew how much he struggled with the holidays—how his past often overshadowed any moments of joy—but you hoped, just maybe, this Christmas would be different.

As you sat on the couch in the apartment you shared with the man you had glanced at the small box resting in your lap, wrapped in simple but elegant paper, a soft green ribbon tied neatly around it. Ace, your Siberian Husky, laid at your feet, his tail wagging slightly as he watched Bucky enter the room.

Bucky stood in the doorway for a moment, looking around the cozy room, his lips twitching lightly from how you decorated it. It brought him some semblance of peace.

Your eyes lit up the moment you saw him, your smile so wide it almost made the room feel warmer. “Go on, open it,” you said eagerly, holding the small box out to him. You were practically vibrating from excitement.

Bucky hesitated for a brief moment. He wasn’t great at receiving gifts,he’d never really had many over the years—but the way you looked at him, so excited and full of hope, made him soften. He took the box carefully, his fingers brushing yours for just a second before he began unwrapping it.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” Bucky said, his voice low but appreciative.

“I wanted too, you mean a lot to me Bucky."you replied, your eyes not leaving him for a second. “It’s… it’s something I thought you’d like.”

Bucky removed the paper, revealing a small, handmade leather journal. The cover was dark brown, worn-in, with an intricate design of a wolf etched into it—something he would never have bought for himself, but it was so fitting. He opened it carefully, running his fingers over the pages. Inside, you had written a small note in the front:

“For the memories you’ve yet to make. I hope you find peace in the pages, Bucky. Merry Christmas.”

He blinked, feeling an unfamiliar warmth spread through him. He wasn’t one for sentimentality, but this… this was different. This wasn’t just a gift. It was an understanding, an acknowledgment of everything he’d been through, and everything he was trying to move past.

“It’s… perfect,” Bucky said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

Your smile widened even more, your heart swelling at the sight of his reaction. You had known how much Bucky struggled with his past, and you hoped this would be a way for him to channel his thoughts, to find a way to put some of the darkness behind him.

A small chuckle leaving his lips as his fingers ran over the leather as he then glanced up at you, a hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “I haven’t really thought about doing that before.”

“Well, it’s never too late,” you replied, your tone light but filled with an unspoken understanding.

Bucky took a deep breath, then gave you a soft but genuine smile. “I’ll try.” Shaking his head he moved to sit next to you as his lips brushed the side of your head.

The two of you sitting together on the couch, Ace curling up at your feet. There was a comfortable silence between them now, one that didn’t feel heavy with unspoken words, but rather peaceful and full of hope.

You lent your head against Bucky’s shoulder, your voice soft, “I’m glad we’re spending Christmas together.”

Bucky’s arm instinctively found its way around you, pulling you closer. He didn’t have much when it came to family, but with you, he felt a sense of belonging—a connection he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“Me too,” he replied quietly. And for the first time in a long while, he let himself believe it.

Because for the first time in a long time he felt truly happy.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Y/N struggling to open a bottle: fuck…

Winter Soldier watching from across the island.

Y/N: can you open this please?

Hands Winter Soldier the bottle.

Winter soldier squeezing the bottle and opening it at the same time. The bottle squirts all over his hair.

Y/N: ….

Winter soldier, soaked to the bone grabbing a knife in warning.

[testingthewatersss]

Panic Trigger warnings for PTSD and torture, wintersolider flashbacks etc.(&bad russain) Bucky Barnes x F Reader (ft. Steve Rodgers) Oneshot 3550 words Angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI The first time a Code White is called is also the last.

The siren that has been splitting the air in the tower is quieter, here. In the common room, with the thick white carpets and furniture to muffle the sound.

Steve is frantic. He’s frozen in position, breathing shallow as his brain fights to come up with any way to respond to the situation he’s facing.

He’s facing Bucky.

Bucky, who, until 2 minutes ago had been doing just fine.

But now he’s not fine, now he’s hysterical.

FRIDAY had set off the code white alarms, helpfully alerting the other residents that something wasn’t right, and all Steve had been able to do is back pace, horror in his eyes as he’d watched the infamous Winter Solider curl up into a ball on the floor.

“Lets cut that noise”

Y/N’s instruction has an instant effect. The shrill ringing is gone as quickly as it’d started.

The door locks behind her with a dull click, and now she’s pacing towards the scene.

Unlike Steve, she doesn’t look afraid at all.

If anything, she looks curious.

“Hey boys” she greets mildly, coming up on Steve’s flank, “What’s goin’ on in here?”

“We” Steve gulps, trying to gather himself, “We were just talking and then…”

“And then?”

He blinks at her prompting, mouth suddenly dry.

“He started freakin' out- speakin' Russain” he explains, looking urgently at the man on the floor, “and then- I- I don’t know what happened, he just—“

Y/N tilts her head.

“He didn’t collapse or anything” he says, “He just—“

“Sat down on the ground?”

He’s hardly sitting, but he doesn’t know think there’d be another way of explaining the situation without making him feel sick.

He nods, and so does she.

She looks understanding, now, rather than curious.

“Hey, Buck” she calls, taking a slow step towards him, “You doin' okay?”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t look at her. He just stays still, burying his face in his knees, arms looped protectively across his brow.

“Y/N” Steve cautions, “I don’t know if he can hear us”

“Sure he can” she replies, almost with humour, “even if what your thinkin’ is right— which I don’t think it is, by the way — Do you think he magically goes deaf?”

He blinks at her dumbly, brain working overtime.

That does sound a little ridiculous, but he’s not an expert on the effects of brain washing, so he decides to forgive himself for that, at least.

“You said he started speaking Russian” Y/N says, “That’s why you called a code white?”

Steve nods, guilt stirring inside of his chest.

Was I wrong? he thinks, did I make this worse?

“Lets try this, then” she says, taking a smaller step closer, “Baki, chto sluchilos’?”

The russian words pour easily from her lips. Steve blinks again, thinking about how strangely soft she’s managed to make them sound. He’s always thought the language was harsh, but her voice is gentle, even now.

Bucky seems to notice her question this time. Although he doesn’t move as much as he flinches in response to her words.

“What were you talking about?” She asks suddenly, head snapping back to Steve, “Before he swapped languages.”

His brow furrows, arms over his chest as he thinks back.

“I���” he says, “I’m not sure exactly… nothing serious, I mean, just— stuff”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah” he agrees, “Childhood stuff, yeah- Yeah that was it— He asked me if I remembered something, a store where he used to work on Tuesdays— and then we were talkin’ about the guy who owned it, and about how he used to go crazy at us for trailin’ mud into the front of the shop…”

“Right” she presses, “and then?”

“And then” Steve sighs, frustrated, “Uh, I said—“

He stops. Realising exactly what he’d said.

Y/N raises her brow, urging him to continue;

“I said” he gulps, looking suddenly ashamed, “I said “I guess we were lucky that he didn’t take us outside and beat us” for half the stuff we did”

Yeah, she thinks, That’d do it.

Steve opens his mouth to apologise, but she cuts him off,

“What did he say in Russian, do you remember?”

“No” he says quickly, remorse making him dizzy, “No, I— I didn’t really get it, it was so fast, he was just, mumbling and backing away and then…”

She nods, understanding.

“Darlin', I-”

“It’s fine” she says, closing the last few steps between her and where Barnes is still hiding on the floor.

It’s not fine. Steve knows it’s not, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I think he said insvinte?” he offers, desperate to be helpful, to right this wrong somehow, “Or something close-”

“Izvinite” she corrects quietly, dropping to a crouch.

Her tone is soft again, and Steve can’t help but wince a heavy ball of dread hits him square in the chest.

It must mean something, then. It wasn’t just incoherent rambling,

“What does it mean?” he hears himself ask, not really wanting to know.

“Sorry” she answers, voice barely audible, “It means I’m sorry”

“Jesus christ” he mumbles, backing away towards the arm of the couch. He leans on it, not trusting his legs to hold him up as he paws at his face in despair.

Y/N reaches out carefully, letting her fingers run over the folded metal plates of Bucky’s arm, before they finally reach his hair. It’s damp by his temples. His whole body is shaking so quickly it’s almost invisible.

“Tebe ne nuzhno izvinyat'sya, dorogaya…” she whispers soothingly “…ne togda, kogda ty ne sdelal nichego plokhogo.”

You don’t have to be sorry, Sweetheart… not when you haven’t done anything wrong.

The back of his shoulders jump with a concealed sob.

He’s terrified, plain and simple and the idea of him being so scared, being so, hopelessly afraid and then being hit by a terrible, loud siren is almost too much for her to bare.

No wonder he’s trying to hide.

No wonder he’s making himself as small as possible in the furthest corner of the room.

“Hey” she soothes, hoping that he’ll respond to English now she’s touching him, “You’re okay…look at me… it’s just me, it’s okay…”

Steve watches, horror stricken as Bucky slowly edges his face up from behind the wall he’s made with his body.

His chin stays hidden behind his forearm, but his eyes are red and streaming.

Y/N shakes her head, hushing him as he starts to choke on air, suddenly feel obscenely exposed;

It’s clear from his expression that he’s too far gone. That scared doesn’t cover it anymore. She’s not fully confident that hysteria covers it, anymore.

His panicked gaze drops to the floor, and she watches as he chokes on a breath that seems to hurt him. Her head shakes, and she lets her hand fall away for a beat as she considers what might be best to say;

“Soldat” she murmurs, knowing he’ll take notice of that, “Glaza na moi”

…Solider…. eyes on me…

That does the trick.

The way his gaze snaps to hers is automatic. It’s instinctual and instant.

“Khoroshiy mal'chik” she soothes, knowing he needs her to be kind more than anything else, right now, “You’ve gotta slow your breathing down— In and out, with me now, okay?”

He blinks at the gentle Russian praise, and then he shivers.

Y/N doesn’t like using his conditioned submissive to her advantage. Not when she can help it, but he needs to stop dragging in aching bursts of air, he needs to calm down-

“In…” she instructs, “…and, out…”

He obeys instantly. Matching the rise and fall of his chest with hers even though he’s having to fight through every fibre of his body to do so.

His discomfort is obvious. She can see that he’s only following her commands because they’re commands. That it’s not a natural way for him to be breathing right now. That it’s hurting him to fight his reflexes so plainly.

“…Deep…” she whispers, trying to soften her voice again, “…Deeper, now, Soldier, and slow, you’re okay- you’re safe, right now, everything’s alright.”

Something flickers across his eyes as tears spill down his cheeks, again. Y/N tilts her head and moves her hands around to cup his jaw. He’s still half hidden, but she knows he won’t fight the contact. She smiles as she wipes her fingers across his face, and nods encouragingly as he changes his inhalation’s to match her new instructions.

Steve is watching from his perch across the room, fighting the urge to cry himself. This is torture, he thinks, though he feels guilty for the thought the second he has it. He hasn’t been tortured— He has, though and that’s why he’s curled up in a corner while Steve gets to watch. He hates the way he’s daring to feel badly. He hates this whole situation

“Can you tell me your name?”

Y/N’s voice snaps him out of his bout of self-deprecation.

He’s watching, desperately hoping for a reassuring response, for some sign that he’d been wrong after all—

“Hmmm?” she presses gently, “Teper' tvoye imya, dorogaya.”

Tell me your name now, sweetheart.

This time, her voice seems to confuse him. He draws in another wet breath before nodding a fraction.

“J-James Bu-channon B-Barnes”

She beams at him and watches his face relax a fraction when she doesn’t have an issue with his answer.

“And what’s my name?” she asks after a pause, “Teper' my govorim po-angliyski, soldat”

We’re speaking english now, Solider.

This time, he looks more nervous.

“Y/N?” he whispers uncertainly.

“Right” she agrees instantly, “Good”

That seems to settle him a fraction.

He inhales deeper, and doesn’t seem to suffer quite as much on the exhale.

“You’re safe” she promises next, swiping another set of tears away from his cheeks, “…Nothin’ bad’s coming…”

He looks at her for the first time since she’d arrived in the room, he really looks at her face, and she sees something behind his gaze give way.

“-I— I di-didn’t m-me-mean t—to d-do an-anythin— wrong” he stammers, frantically trying to tell her, “I- I’m s-sorry— I- I didn’t- I- I c-c-can't—”

“Shhhhhh” she soothes, shaking her head before leaning in to press a kiss against his brow, “We’re breathing right now” she says, smoothing his hair back, “That’s all you need to think about”

It’s a bit of a low blow, really, cutting him off like that, but she knows he’s too far gone to have a rational discussion about everything else right now. A panic attack worsened by the addition of an alarm which she’d wager had been just a touch too familiar is a whole lot of trauma to fight through at once.

He needs to focus. He needs to breathe. And she knows him well enough he won’t disobey something as close to a command as her words. Not given the circumstances.

She’s right. Just like before, his body takes over.

He reverts to mimicking her exaggerated breathing pattern and letting his eyes loose focus.

This time, she doesn’t interrupt him straight away. Not even to praise him. She just watches silently as he forces his chest to rise and fall in a mechanical rhythm that she’d curated to deliberately ease his most primal responses.

Steve paws at his eyes, pressing back his own tears now.

This is all my fault, he thinks, the reality of the situation hitting him now, There was no code white, he was just scared and I made things ten times worse—

Y/N just sits with him for a few more minutes, waiting until she notices him starting to shiver, before she reaches out to stroke his cheek again.

“Good” she whispers, affection heavy in her voice now, “That’s better, huh?”

“I-I’m t-t-trying” he stammers weakly.

“I know” she agrees, leaning in and pressing a kiss against his brow, “I know, Bucky, I know you’re doin’ good…”

He nods a fraction and that’s how she knows that he’s ready to take back control. To at least start deciding what he wants to do, again.

“Want some water?” she offers, beaming proudly when he shakes his head, “No? Okay… What do you want, huh?”

“C-can… C-can I… Can I- have… have a h-hug pl-please?”

“A hug?” she checks, “Sure… Sure you can, c’mere—”

And then, her arms are open, and Bucky feels himself moving, rocking onto his knees so that he can to cling onto her waist.

This is all he wants. He just wants to hide his face against her neck, and hold onto her and—

“Sweetheart” she murmurs, “You’re okay, it’s all okay, I promise…”

And then, he’s back to sobbing.

His adrenaline is crashing, and he feels dizzy and sick and he’s crying like a baby in her arms.

None of this feels right. He doesn’t understand how he’s ended up on the floor in the corner of the room. It’s all a blur of panic, and loud, shrill noises that always mean terrible things are coming and— and he remembers feeling useless, of not being able to be understood—

“We're sp-speaking English, now” he sniffs, “W-we’re sep-peaking, English now, I- I’m sorry I- c-couldn’t before.”

Steve’s heart breaks in his chest when he hears that. When he hears his best friend weeping and earnestly trying to convince them that he knows he’s meant to be speaking the same language as they are.

“…Shhhhh, now…” Y/N soothes, “…It’s okay… you can’t help it, it’s not your fault…”

“I- I t-tried” he bleats, upset making his Brooklyn drawl stronger somehow, “Doll, I— I tried b-but my head…”

“I know…” she promises, “…It’s alright, sweetheart— I’m sorry— I’m sorry ‘bout all that noise…”

He clings to her so tightly that her t-shirt tears under his metal thumb.

The memory of the skull splitting siren making his whole world spin for a moment;

“We won’t do that again” she promises, “I’ll get Tony to figure somethin’ out— even if there ever is a need for somethin’ like that, we can’t have it be so loud…”

“—I’ll be good-” he promises pathetically, “I- I s-swear, I— I- Please, I- I c-cant t-take that n-noise, again…”

That’s more than Steve can process. He pushes up and leaves the room in silence, hoping that the route back to his suit is deserted. He doesn’t think he can handle a run in with anyone. Not with how full his own eyes are now.

Y/N barely notices his departure. She’s too busy hushing the cowering man in her arms. Because he is cowering in her arms now. He’s shaking like a wounded stray, chest heaving with sobs.

He’s too big to hide against her, really, but some how he’s managing.

His entire face is angled downwards, obscured from view as he presses his brow into her shoulder.

All she can do is hold him. Hold him, and murmur out gentle streams of praise until he finally starts to settle down.

Until his body caves in and he drifts off into something that could almost pass for sleep.

Y/N thinks it might’ve been more convincing if his hands hadn’t stayed furled in the fabric of her top.

“C’mon, handsome” she sighs, “If you wanna’ try and get some rest we should get you a little more comfy”

She watches curiously as Bucky edges his face up, slowly revealing wide, blue eyes that look awfully sore.

His cheeks are red, and damp, and she can’t help but lean in and press a kiss against his chin starts to quiver.

“We’ll stay here” she promises him quietly, “We’ll stay right here, okay? but you can lie down—”

“W-wi-with you, right?”

Her chest aches as looks into his eyes and nods.

As she sees how terrified he still is.

“Yeah, Buck… we can lie down together, would you like that?”

He offers her a jerky little nod before sniffling sadly and averting his gaze.

She nods, too and starts to adjust her position, carefully rearranging their bodies so that she is the one curled up, with Bucky against her flank. He keeps both arms locked around her waist, and lets out a sad series of gulps as he fights the urge to tuck his legs into his chest.

It’s hard. He wants to protect himself, to bring his knees tight into his front, but he also wants to be held. To let Y/N protect him, while he really, really needs her too.

“Shhhh” she soothes, eager to ease the quiet little whimpers that are suddenly vibrating against her jaw, “Baby boy, you’re alright…”

Bucky is nuzzling into her throat, nose bumping against her temple in his not so subtle bid to earn more attention from her.

“What do you want, huh?” she asks, tone playful as she lets one hand thread through his hair, “You’re precious”

He lets his eyes close as he presses kiss against her cheek, and then another against her chin, and jaw, and the tender skin behind her ear…

“…Some fussin’?…” she guesses, stroking a line across the back of his ribs, “…We can do that… C’mere…”

She shifts again, rolling over a little more so that she can tuck him neatly between her legs. Her thighs box him in, and he folds instantly into the embrace, letting out a soft, hollow, sound of appreciation as his cheek meets her chest.

“You’re alright” she soothes, starting to stroke his back, “I know that scared you, but you’re okay… I promise”

He just clings to her tighter, screwing his eyes shut.

It did scare him. The sound, the not being able to speak English, the look on his oldest friends face—

“Hey” she inserts, feeling his back heave, “Hey, I’m here, I’m right here…”

“…He— H-e was mad…”

“He?” she asks, “You mean Steve?”

He nods, nose brushing her jaw.

“Baby, why would you think that?”

“..I…” he gulps, “..I couldn’t sp-speak english and th-then he… he started that noise..”

Her heart cracks down the middle as she puts it all together. As she pieces together the way it must’ve felt to him.

“Oh, Bucky” she whispers, “Bucky, no— It wasn’t like that”

“Will- W-will you tell him I’m sorry, d-doll?”

“No- Not when you haven’t done anythin’ to him that warrants an apology.”

He doesn’t reply to that. She assumes he stopped listening after the no.

“…Baby…” she murmurs, trying to soothe him, “…Steve isn’t angry, it wasn’t a punishment, it was the security system, that’s all…”

“It… it sounded like… it sounded like w-what t-they…”

“—I know” she cuts in, “I know it did, I’m sorry— We won’t do that again.”

This time, she doesn’t want to break the silence he settles into. It doesn’t feel as upset as the last time.

Her fingers roll across his temple, stroking his hair as he works at calming himself down. At letting his body adjust to the sudden lack of adrenaline;

and then, he’s sleeping.

His whole body is a deadweight, chest rising and falling in a natural rhythm that betrays how vulnerable he is.

Y/N feels herself relaxing too. He’s too warm and soft for her to stay tense, besides, the only thing she was trying to guard is him, and he’s not going anywhere.

That’s when she lets her mind drift back to Steve.

To her friend who’d fled the scene in horror whilst she’d been unable to comfort him.

She sighs, looking at her sleeping lover with sheer adoration. She’s glad he’s sleeping, because her own remorse is more than enough for her to deal with;

“What do we do about that, huh, Buck?”

Y/N knows he can’t answer. He does seem to smile in response to her voice though. She thinks that it’s probably a trick of the light, but, the idea of being able to make him feel better regardless of his consciousness is nice, so she doesn’t over think it.

“Baby” she whispers, “Shall I call him? Tell him to come back up, see that you’re okay?”

This time, he stirs.

He nuzzles into her, letting out a sigh.

“I’m taking that as a yes—“ she decides, knowing that she has to do something, “—Friday, get Steve up here please.”

The AI replies with a polite ‘Yes, boss’ and Y/N settles back against the wall, trying to arrange their bodies into a position that looks a little less intimate without rousing her partner.

It’s easy enough. Bucky is pliant, and all he really wants is to stay close. She realises pretty quickly that as long as he’s able to keep his arms around her, he goes along with the adjustment.

She strokes his hair to soothe him once she’s satisfied.

His face is hidden against her stomach. His legs are tucked into his own chest, again, but it seems a lot less sad now.

And then, she hears footsteps.

She looks up with a smile that almost falters when she sees the expression on Steve’s face.

He’s clearly been crying. His nose is red, cheeks blotchy, and his eyes look terribly sore.

“Come sit, you’re as bad as him” For a second it looks like he's going to fight her on it, but then, with a sigh and a bashful smile, he nods. Pacing silently towards Y/N before settling himself beside her on the ground, not bothering to speak deciding to just put his arm around her shoulders instead.

Masterlist

[sosa2imagines]

Random thought: Bucky has alters e.g. WS, White Wolf, Buck even!

Bucky, is a man of many layers.

Bucky had two distinct alters, the ruthless Winter Soldier and the calm, strategic White Wolf.

Each will have their own way of dealing with the world, and each will have their own way of dealing with the special person in their lives.

Living with Bucky is to embrace his alters too. The Winter Soldier and the White Wolf are integral parts of who he is.

Both the Winter Soldier and the White Wolf have their unique ways of being with you.

The Winter Soldier’s protective nature and quiet strength provided a sense of security, while the White Wolf’s calm and nurturing presence brought peace and harmony. Together, they made your home a place of safety, love, and balance.

The Winter Solider is more protective and vigilant.

The white wolf is more relaxed, more at ease.

No matter which persona was present, one thing remained constant- Bucky’s love for you.

There will be days when the alters clash with each other. And you'll have to be the peacemaker and remind them of Bucky.

Bucky will need your biggest support.

Bucky will feel like he's two different persons at the same time.

He will desperately try to find a balance.

You'll have to assure him, that he is not alone.

Slowly but surely, Bucky will start to embrace both the Winter Soldier and the White Wolf, understanding that they were both parts of who he was.

And in the process, he discovers that he was capable of so much more than he had ever imagined.

[sluttygallavich]

Galladrabbles: loser, baby

This week's @galladrabbles is based on the prompt "Loser, Baby" by Hazbin Hotel courtesy of @depressedstressedlemonzest.

_________________________

Mickey sips his beer, fighting the urge to rip off his shoulder-length wig. He cannot believe Mandy talked him into coming to this bullshit. He tugs uncomfortably on his metal arm and thinks he might kill himself if he sees anyone he knows.

As if on cue, Mandy’s best friend cuts through the crowd.

“You, Mickey Milkovich, are such a fucking nerd,” Ian says wryly. Idly, Mickey wonders if he’ll be able to throw a punch wearing all this leather.

“A total loser—” Ian unzips his coat, revealing a skin-tight Captain America costume. “—just like me.”

Mickey grins.

[viperchick47]

I know I literally just posted about it, but I can't get the idea to shut up enough to move onto anything else so, here. Just a little blurb my mind squeezed out on my phone. Not edited or anything. Cвет is "Light" in Russian, at least according to Google Translate. Correct me if it's wrong. I haven't written anything since "The Sun Sets in the West", go easy I beg of thee.

-------------------------------------------

Mine

What? Mine?

MINE

What the hell is going on?

My Cвет

No... no it can't be he was-

"Buck? You ok?"

His head shot over to his friend, staring at him wide eyed for a second before schooling his features.

"Where-uh... where did you said you found her again?" It took a second for Bucky to get his head on straight enough to talk again.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "Uh... Somewhere outside of Moscow. Nat found coordinates to another Hydra base-"

No, no no no

Ok, what the hell

"Hidden in a forest. Ended up not being many there, just a dozen or so agents and her. Regonize her?"

"No, don't think so. You said outside of Moscow though?"

DON'T!

"Yeah, something special about the place?"

Not a word, don't say a word. If you tell them and she gets hurt-

"Um n-no nothing too special about it. Just a place they send failed test subjects they refuse to kill. Thought it was abandoned." What was he saying? Why was he lying to them, to Steve of all people!

Good

Steve slowly nodded, then looked back towards Bruce and the others, "We didn't find any files there. Not even a name for her."

"We should do a detailed blood test. See if we can tell what they may have done to her." Bruce had said while he went to one of the shelving units to get items to draw blood. "May not hurt as well to do an x-ray of her body, maybe an MRI and-"

The echo of crunching metal caught the rooms attention. "NO"

All eyes were looking in Bucky's direction, wide with shock from the sudden sound.

"Hey Buck, you wanna let go of the cart and explain why not?"

He looked down to notice his metal hand gripping the cart Bruce was putting his tools on pratically destroyed. How- He was on the other side of the room, when did he walk next to this girl on the bed? And why did he suddenly feel so protective?

Bucky forced his metal arm out of the tangle of metal, grunting out "Just bloodwork, wait till she's awake for more tests. Easier on her mind" before storming out of the medical wing and into the courtyard.

That wasn't him, it couldn't have been. He had no idea who that woman was, never seen her before. Unless he did see her during his Winter Solider days. But then why didn't he remember her? Why did he feel like he had to keep her safe?

And why was he hearing a voice in his head again? It was him but it wasn't his voice. There's no way it could have been the solider, he was removed in Wakanda when they-

Still here, all your "friends" did was put me to sleep when removing the words. Keep them away from my Cвет.

Shit.

[arcxnumvitae]

Agh, as much as it pained him, he would not be able to remain at the Unseelie festivities for the entire month. Already he was growing dizzy, and exhaustion was setting in. Perhaps he had not yet fully recovered from his last extended excursion outside of Seelie. He hoped it didn't reflect poorly on Seelie if its king could not stay the entire time.

[elixirfromthestars]

By The Warmth Of The Oven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. tipsy bucky.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> is it those cookies that smell delicious or is it you?

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Bella @nickfowlerrr ♡ In honor of Can You Feel It? being the first of many beautiful fics I read of yours 🥹🩷 Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

bucky masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

“Smells good…” Bucky’s voice comes out of nowhere from behind you as you grab another tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. You glance over your shoulder to find him sauntering into the kitchen, making his way over to you. 

“Freshly baked cookies always do,” you reply with a gratified grin, placing the tray on top of the stove so the cookies have some time to cool off before you plate them. Your friends had already gone through three batches of them and they practically begged you to make more. It was a nice feeling, almost rewarding in a way, knowing something you made was so loved by your friends. 

“‘m not talking about the cookies, doll,” there’s a bit of a slur in his cadence that catches your attention at the same time that your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to him to see he’s staring at you with a dreamy smile and a twinkle in his eyes, propped up against the counter by his elbow. You frown at his unusual nonchalant demeanor. You’ve never seen him act this way before. 

Your head tilts slightly as you examine him a little closer. There’s a bit of a sway to his stance and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Bucky, are you drunk?” Almost immediately he shakes his head at your question, “No. I can't get drunk,” he replies with an obvious tone, and yet the pouty frown on his face tells a different story. 

“Right, you can’t…” you affirm, mulling it over for a moment,“Unless…did Thor give you some of his special Asgardian liquor?” You ask, stepping slightly closer to him, the apples of his cheeks getting rosier in response. 

“I took a shot. I started feeling funny and came here—felt safe,” he mutters that last part reluctantly, sharing something with you he wouldn’t if it weren’t for the alcohol in his system.

“In the kitchen?”

“With you.” 

Your amusement is replaced with a soft expression at his response. He most likely hasn’t felt the effects of alcohol in decades and a part of him doesn’t know how to cope with the resurfaced inhibitions. The fact that while feeling unwell his first instinct was to come looking for you—it made a warmth spread throughout you that could easily rival the heat of the oven.

You reach out to cup his cheek, soothing the flushed skin with your thumb. He instinctively leans into your touch, his eyes shining with a gentle vulnerability that causes your heart to squeeze in your chest. You and Bucky have always had a flirtatious friendship for as long as you can remember, but it's never gone past that. Seeing him so openly affectionate with you stirs emotions deep within you that you aren’t sure you’re ready to bring to the surface.

“I don’t think the alcohol is going to stay in your system for long, Buck. How about we do this…you wait for me here while I go out and serve the cookies I baked,” his eyes widen slightly and you can tell he wants to protest until you add, “I’ll bring back some hot chocolate for us to share and we can enjoy it along with some cookies while we wait for that liquor in your system to wear off. How does that sound?” You suggest softly and you can see the way he thinks it through before he agrees with a nod.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as you plate a few dozen cookies on decorative plates, leaving a handful behind for you and Bucky to share. You make sure to quickly take them out to your friends and serve up two piping hot mugs of hot chocolate before making it back to the kitchen in no time. 

When you meet back with Bucky you find him sitting on the counter where he watches his legs as he swings them lazily to and fro. You observe him fondly for a moment longer than necessary. Trying to commit to memory how carefree and unguarded he is at this moment. When he notices you his face lights up in a way that makes you feel like the most precious person on earth. 

“Here, as promised,” you hand him a mug of hot chocolate which he takes eagerly—too eagerly—as he immediately goes for a sip of it. Before he can, however, you stop him, placing your hand as a barrier between his lips and the mug. His mouth ends up pressed into your palm, and you ignore the heat that finds its way to your face at the softness of his lips brushing against your skin.

“Bucky, it's scalding hot! You’ll burn yourself! Wait until it cools down a bit, please.”

“It’s not gonna burn me, doll. I’m a super soldier. Watch—”

“Bucky!” 

You use the cookies as leverage to coax Bucky into waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down before he drinks any of it. For the next hour or so, you enjoy each other's company. Between the sweet treats and the lighthearted conversations, time flies by in a heartbeat. 

Then, while in the middle of a discussion over your last mission, Bucky does something that completely takes you by surprise in the best way possible—he kisses you. It’s short, but profound in the way he pours everything into it. Every flirtation you ever questioned could mean something more was proven here with this kiss, that it had meant so much more for more than just you. 

You’re speechless when he pulls away beaming as if his heart might burst.

“Looks like I was right.” 

“Huh?”

“I asked myself what was sweeter. You or the cookies. I knew it'd be you,” he states as a matter of fact, drinking up the way his words affect you as much as the kiss had. There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe him, but it's not because of him, but more so because you think you must be dreaming. 

“That's the liquor talking.”

“I've sobered up a while ago, doll.”

You search his eyes for the truth of it all and you find it. This is real. This isn’t a dream. And the yearning that burns bright in his eyes is one you know all too well. It’s the same one reflecting in your eyes as your gazes lock on one another.

“I still think the cookies are sweeter,” you whisper, your eyes shining with a playful challenge despite the way your heart races in your chest with anticipation. He catches on, licking his lips as his flesh hand snakes its way to the back of your head to cradle it gently.

“‘m gonna prove you wrong, doll,” he declares in a huskier tone as he pulls you in for another kiss. And that night, by the warmth of the oven, Bucky continues to kiss you until he successfully proves you wrong. 

[questionableratatouille00]

WOAH DR. CHO

I was thinking about how much i liked her and then she pulled out the Winter Soldier card

she was written really well btw— she didn’t get enough screen time in the movies

yes boob pillows are superior

I loved this entire thing

maybe I missed it but did you ever mention how far y/n flew after Bucky whacked her

like have you ever seen one of those TikToks where it’s like an animal or a person or something and someone else duets it and just throws something that looks like the animal or person

I can’t explain it but y’know

I imagined Y/n like that—just flying across the room

I highly doubt she flew

but if she did

I think it’s hilarious

also just saying the Clint meeting thing could’ve been an email

just sayin

Stay With Me: Part 2| Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please read Part 1 first :)

So did anyone ask for a part two? Nope!

But I'm writing it anyway.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: After getting Bucky's injuries taken care of, he needs to get some rest. He knows his night terrors will be worse than usual tonight after the traumatic mission he went on, but you're determined be there for him. An accidental injury leads to guilt, stitches, and snuggling.

Warnings: blood, reader gets injured (stitches), PTSD/anxiety, night terrors, light swearing

Word count: 4.8k

Part 3

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As Bucky embraced you, your entire body relaxed. The most stressful day of your life thus far was finally coming to an end. Bucky was home, he was okay, and you were together. That's all that mattered.

A yawn crept its way up your body and out of your mouth.

"Wow, that's a big yawn.” Bucky looked into your sleepy eyes and you saw how beautiful he really was. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him in so long or because you thought you were going to lose him, but in this moment he looked like a perfectly chiseled Greek God. His cerulean eyes peered deeply into yours, and you felt like he could see right into your soul.

You stretched your exhausted body and let out a tired sigh. Your body and mind were both aching for rest. You plopped down on the pallet you'd laid out for Bucky, surprised at how comfortable it was. He looked down at you with trepidation on his face. His reluctance confused you. Surely he'd want to lay down and get some sleep after the harrowing mission and the mental and emotion trauma he'd experienced.

"Hey, come to bed. You need to rest"

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his vibranium hand. "Oh. Yeah. Let me change first. Gimme a second". He grabbed the gray sweatpants you'd laid out for him and headed into his bathroom. The two of you had been dating for a few months now, but you still hadn't done the deed and you definitely hadnt seen him naked. It's not as though you weren't dying to experience that with him. He had the body of Adonis and you loved him so much; you wanted to be as physically close to him as possible. But, hey, he was born in 1918. He called you doll, he asked you to "go steady" with him- he was old fashioned. You never wanted to push him or make him uncomfortable, so you were okay with only having some light make out sessions here and there.

He came out of the bathroom in his clean sweats but instead of joining you on the floor, he sat on the bare bed. He looked embarrassed, like a little kid who didn't want to admit that he was afraid of monsters under the bed.

"Buck, are you okay?"

"Yeah, doll. Um, I'm fine. I just..." he trailed off. Bucky was clearly not sure how to say what he wanted to say.

"You can tell me anything, babe. You know that. What's going on?"

"I just know that they're gonna be really bad tonight" he whispered. He let out a little laugh and tried to pull a smile to downplay his feelings, but it was clear to you that he was not okay. Your heart shattered. Bucky hadn't slept the night he got home from the mission, and you realized why; he knew he bad the night terrors were going to be.

You motioned for him to come sit next to you and he did. You turned toward him and took his hands, one warm and one cool, in yours. "I know that the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you're going to see some really terrible, awful things. But you need your rest, Buck."

He bowed his head. You knew he was mentally and physically drained, and that sleep was the one thing that would make him feel better- but it also threatened to make him feel worse. "I'm so sorry. I know you're reluctant to close your eyes and let your subconscious take over... but the longer you go without sleep, the worse you'll feel. Your body needs rest so you can heal." You tucked your hand under his chin and lifted his head so that his eyes met yours.

"Please, Buck. For me? Just lay down for a little while. And if you have a nightmare, you know I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere". He let out a sigh and leaned forward to give your lips a tender kiss.

“Okay. Yeah, um… fine.”

You turned off the lamp closest to you, but left the other one on so it wouldn't be too dark for Bucky.

You laid down on Bucky's left side and stroked his vibranium arm while he once again thanked you for everything. You leaned in and gave the scar that he hated so much a tender kiss. And you were happy. You were surprised at how comfy you could be sleeping on a wood floor.

You looked at your phone. It was 1:13am. Bucky mentioned in the past that he only ever got about 3 hours of sleep a night, so you hoped he'd at least make it an hour without a nightmare.

Unfortunately, you were disappointed. The screaming woke you all too soon. These screams were deep, painful, made your heart ache. You bolted upright and knelt at Bucky's side.

"Buck. Hey…" you whispered, but it didn’t rouse him from his terror. "Bucky-" you gave him a gentle shake but he was still trapped inside his mind. With almost all of your strength you grabbed both of his broad shoulders and shook him. "BUCKY."

With that, his eyes opened. A sheen of sweat coated his face. His chest rose and fell at an alarming rate. His eyes, full of alarm, glistened with tears. He looked at you, confused. For a moment, it seemed as though he wasn't sure if you were real.

"Hey, Buck…" you said, your voice soft. You gently put a hand on his chest and placed the other hand on the side of his face. "You're okay. You're fine, you're safe."

He screwed his eyes shut and sat upright. He bowed his head and rested it in his hands. His breathing was still erratic, and you scooted closer to him to gently rub his back while he caught his breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and let out a sigh, "I am so sorry, doll." Shame coated his words.

"Sorry? for having a nightmare? Buck, there's nothing to-" he cut you off.

"I'm sorry for screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night and scaring the hell out of you. I'm sorry for making you worry, for constantly making you comfort and reassure me. And I'm sorry for making you sleep on the goddamn floor." He let out a huff. You could not comprehend how a man so kind, so gentle, so loving, so good could see himself in such a negative light. He didnt believe that he was deserving of any kind of kindness or comfort. And for that, you wanted to destroy Hydra yourself.

"James Buchanan Barnes", you began. "I will reassure and comfort you until you get tired of me or I die... whichever comes first". He let out a quiet laugh. "I do those things because I want to. I want to comfort you after a nightmare. I want you to feel safe when you open your eyes and see me next to you. I want to reassure you and make you feel loved. And I want to sleep on the floor with you, babe, because I know that that's where you're most comfortable." You gave him a wink as you finished and he cupped the side of your face.

"How'd I get so lucky?" he stroked your cheek. You smiled and leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for just a moment to take in the way he made you feel.

You opened your eyes. "Alright.." you sighed, "how do you feel about trying to go back to sleep?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with his vibranium hand, "I don't want to," he said. "But I know that I need to... and that you want me to," a small smile pulled at his features.

"You would be correct about that, Barnes". You kissed him on the cheek and the both of you laid back down. You checked your phone. 2:37am. Bucky had gotten about an hour and a half of sleep before his nightmare. You rolled onto your right side so that you could rest your head on Bucky's chest. He wrapped his vibanium arm around your back and the two of you drifted off to sleep for the second time that night.

At 3:19am, it happened again. This time Bucky wasn't screaming so much as he was groaning, like he was in immense pain. The heartbreaking sound only stopped when he would moan, "n-no, stop. S-stop. No. Please. No- STOP" before resuming his painful groans. Once again, you were at his side in a flash. Leaning over him, trying to gently rouse him from his nightmare, you called his name. But like last time, being gentle didn't work. He was so trapped in his terror that soft whispers weren't going to do a thing. So once again you shook his large shoulders, gentle enough as not to scare him but with enough force to hopefully get him out of his subconscious.

And then you were on your back. You didn't quite know what had happened- only that one second you were by Bucky's side and now you weren't. You felt like you'd been hit by a truck, the side of your face aching and throbbing. A quick swipe of your hand revealed blood oozing from your cheek. Suddenly, Bucky apeared above you.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" He turned on the lamp nearest you and saw the damage. Your left cheek bone was already turning purple, along with your left eye. Your brow bone had a gash on it that oozed dark red blood down the side of your face. You looked dazed. "Stay right there, okay? I'm gonna get you a towel". Bucky was gone no longer than a few seconds. "Can you sit up, doll?" He gingerly helped you sit up a bit and scoot over so you could lean up against the wall. He pressed the towel to your face and you winced. Your head throbbed.

"What happened, Buck?" You were genuinely confused as you looked up at him for help.

He bowed his head a bit. "I'm sorry, doll. I usually don't have someone here to wake me..." his voice trailed off and he got quiet. He looked incredibly ashamed. "I thi- I think I panicked. I was dreaming about being forced back into that chair to have my mind wiped. I was fighting against them. And when I woke up and felt hands on my shoulders, I fought back. I hit you before I even realized it was you."

And then it came rushing back to you- you leaning over Bucky and shaking his shoulders. Him struggling against your grip. Bucky screaming "NO" as the hard vibranium suddenly struck the side of your face.

You didn't know what to say. Of course you weren't mad at him. You knew he would never ever under any circumstances hurt you on purpose. Hell, he felt guilty when he would accidentally step on your foot or pull your hair even the tiniest bit. He was truly trying to save himself in that moment, and it had just been an unfortunate occurrence. But you already knew what was going through his head. Shame. Immense guilt. Self hatred. Torment. Anguish. Sadness. Fear that you would leave him.

He stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to say something, anything. You took a deep breath and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"It's okay, Buck."

"Doll, no it's not-" shame overwhelmed him. "It's not okay. I hurt you. I made you bleed."

"Did you do it on purpose?"

He silently shook his head.

"Buck… I know you would never hurt me." You knew that you couldn't erase all of the shame and self-hate that he felt. But you could try.

Head still throbbing, you continued your attempt to ease his worry. “You told me that your night terrors were gonna be worse tonight. I knew that you weren't just going to sleep peacefully through the night.” The pain in your head kept hitting you again and again like relentless waves crashing on the shore.

You could see out of the corner of your eye that the towel Bucky was pressing to your face was turning darker red by the second, but you continued. “And hey, my mom kicks my dad in her sleep all the time and they’ve been together for thirty years" you let out a small chuckle, hoping to lighten his mood just a little. But the laugh made you wince. A small smile flashed across his face and you reached up to stroke his stubble.

"I'm not mad, Buck. I'm actually kind of sad that you were so scared you felt like had to protect yourself… We're gonna get through this together, okay? I promise."

He didn't know what to say. He leaned into your touch and nodded his head ever so slightly. You hated that this man who you loved so much saw himself as an irredeemable monster. He leaned forward, kissed you on the forehead, and whispered "come on, let's get a look at the damage".

He scooped you up with his vibranium arm under your knees and his other behind your back and carried you to the bathroom while you held the towel up to your face. He turned on the bathroom light with his elbow, walked you over to the counter, and set you down gently.

"How's it lookin', Dr. Barnes?" you joked. You could tell he didn't want to laugh or smile at your quip, but he couldn't help it. He rolled his eyes playfully and let out a little laugh. He pulled the towel away from your face and wiped the area with a wet wash cloth so that he could properly see the gash. It wasn't big, but it was deep. He appraised the first aid kit that he kept in his cabinet, but he feared that his meager supplies weren't going to be able to do much for you.

"Um, alright," he began with a sigh, "Unfortunately this kind of looks like it needs stitches. Or at least it needs a medical professional to take a look at it. I'm gonna give the med bay a call and see if there's anyone down there. Keep this right here" He said as he positioned the towel back over your cut.

He padded out of the room, found his phone, and had a quick conversation with someone in the med bay. "Okay, they're ready for you", he stated. You hopped off the counter but immediately regretted it. You felt like you were on a boat experiencing rough seas. Your vision was covered by what looked like black clouds. You felt yourself falling forward, but it seemed like it was happening in slow motion. Before you could hit the cold, hard tile, two strong arms caught you.

"Woah, woah, hey" Bucky exclaimed as he scooped you up into his safe embrace. "I hate to say this, doll, but I think you probably have a concussion". He looked down into your bruised, bloody face. "Yeah, concussion? That makes sense" you laughed. "I've got a wicked headache and I feel like I'm on a boat".

Bucky laughed. How were you still so funny and chipper after being hit in the face with the strongest material on the planet? He leaned down, kissed you on the forehead, and carried you to the elevators.

"Sargeant Barnes" you heard Dr. Cho say as you exited the elevators. "Two visits in one night? That's worrisome" she said. "Yeah, well, this time it's not me who needs a patch job". The doctor removed the towel that you were still holding against your gash and examined the wound. "Hmm, yes, this needs a few stitches. Follow me, James". Bucky rolled his eyes at the name and proceeded to follow the doctor down the hall and into a treatment room. He placed you gently on the bed and would not leave your side, even when Dr. Cho asked him to. Twice.

Dr. Cho was excellent at her job. She had the wound cleaned and the area numbed before you even knew what was happening. She expertly closed the wound with three perfectly executed stitches and stepped back to admire her work. "Doc" Bucky began, "I'm pretty sure she has a concussion, too..." He was worried and protective. He was going to make sure that you got the care you needed.

"Yes, James, I'm sure she does" Dr. Cho stated matter-of-factly. "But we had to handle the open wound first" she winked at Bucky. Dr. Cho tested you for a concussion as Bucky looked on. She shone a light in your eyes and assessed your dilated pupils. "Okay, Y/N, can you tell me what day it is?" Dr. Cho asked. You suddenly realized that you didn't know. "What about...how you got here? How did you get to this building?" Again, you drew a blank. "Have you experienced any dizziness?". You thought hard. "Um, no I don't think so", you stated.

It was then that Bucky chimed in. "Yes, she has." He looked at you with concern in his eyes. "She almost fell upstairs. She said she felt like she was on a boat".

Suddenly, a wave of nausea crashed over you. You didn't know why, but you were going to be sick. "I'm- I'm not feeling-" and before you could finish your sentence, Dr. Cho was there with a bin to catch your throw up. Bucky rubbed your back as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the receptacle. You were so embarrassed- here you were, vomiting in front of your super hot boyfriend. "Yeah, she's definitely got a concussion" Dr. Cho said. "The dizziness, inability to recall recent memories, vomiting, the dilated pupils. I'd say it's a moderate one, at that."

"You need to rest" she continued. "Drink lots of water, limit your screen time, and avoid any strenuous activities". She looked at Bucky and winked, which made him turn beet red. "I'll get you some icepacks for the swelling, but you're well on your way to a black eye. I'll also give you something for the pain, so just sit tight and I'll be right back". Dr. Cho left the room and Bucky sat down on your bed.

"What a night", he said with a sigh as he picked up your left hand and kissed the back of it. "Hey, I've had a concussion before", you stated, "this isn't my first rodeo". Bucky let out a loud laugh. It was your favorite sound. Hearing him genuinely laugh was music to your ears. "But, I've never had a black eye, nor have I ever had stitches. So I'm just crossing things off my bucket list left and right, I guess".

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully. "Having a black eye was on your bucket list?" he asked, with a skeptical tone. "Um, yeah, Buck. Duh. I want to look tough at least once in my life". Again, he let out a laugh that made your heart feel full. You loved making him laugh. You wanted to make him laugh for the rest of your life. "What am I gonna do with you, doll?" he asked, winking and gently cupping your face. "I don't know, Sargeant Barnes. But I have an idea-"

Dr. Cho entering the room cut you off. She handed you an ice pack for your eye and a bottle of pain meds. "You can take one of these every 4-6 hours. They may make you drowsy and a little loopy, so be careful." Bucky squeezed your hand. "Don't worry, Doc. I'll look out for her" He winked at you.

"Are we good to go?" he asked. Dr. Cho looked down at you. "You are free to go, Barnes. I need to talk to Y/N alone for a moment". Bucky was confused. He gave you a look and you shrugged, seeing as you had no idea what was going on either. "Um, I'll be right outside" he promised, as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Dr. Cho let out a sigh and sat down on your bed. "I have to ask, Y/N. I know you're kind of fuzzy right now because of the concussion but...he didn't do this in purpose, right?". You were stunned. You couldn't believe that she was actually asking you this question. No, the details weren't 100% crystal clear at the moment but you were absolutely sure that this was accidental. "Oh my god. No. No, he definitely didn't do this on purpose. I'm-I'm pretty sure he...I think he was having a nightmare? And when I tried to wake him up he panicked and I took his vibranium arm to the face. I'm almost certain that that's what happened. He would never hurt me."

Dr. Cho looked worried. “I just had to ask. With his history…I don’t know how safe it is to be with him.” Your heart began to pound and you felt anger building in your throat. “Bucky would never hurt me” you stated again. Dr. Cho didn’t look convinced but she helped you sit up anyway. "You can go, Y/N. But take it easy…and be careful".

She called Bucky back into the room and he helped you up from the bed. The two of you walked out of the med bay with his cool vibranium arm woven around your waist to keep you upright. In the elevator, Bucky asked what you and Dr. Cho had talked about when she'd asked him to leave the room. But you just couldn't tell him, you knew how it would make him feel- it would make him feel like a monster. "Oh, she just asked me some questions about my medical history," you lied. "I think you had to leave because of HIPAA or something like that". He kissed the side of your face that didn't have an ice pack pressed up against it, and then leaned his forehead against yours. "I'm so sorry, doll", he whispered. "I know, Buck. It's okay".

You kissed him gently as the elevator doors opened. The two of you walked back to his room and you weren't quite sure what was going to happen next. He had been reluctant about going back to sleep after his first awful dream of the night and now that the second one had resulted in you needing stitches, you were sure that he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

You, on the other hand, were tired and in pain. It was 4:26 in the morning and sleep sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world, but you were not about to let Bucky stay up all night alone. With his help, you laid back down and got comfortable. "You wanna join me?" you asked, hoping that he would oblige without having to be talked into it.

Bucky sighed. "I-I don't know, doll. I feel like sleeping isn't in the cards for me tonight, especially after..." he gestured to your injury. "That's what I figured," you murmured, fighting the urge to sleep. "We don't have to sleep. We can just lay here and talk. We can talk about anything you want." You extended your hand that wasn't holding the ice pack to your face and he just looked down at it. He pondered your offer for a moment, and eventually agreed. "Lay right here", you said, gesturing to your chest.

"Are you sure about that?" Bucky asked. "I don't think that's such a good idea." You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile. "Come on, babe. I always lay on you, it's your turn to lay on me. You have no idea how comfortable it is to use boobs as a pillow." He turned beet red and you gave a little chuckle.

Again, he thought your offer over. You could see the gears turning in his brain until he finally gave in to his curiosity. He gently placed his head on your chest and slung his right arm across your abdomen while his vibranium arm stayed down by his side. You knew he wasn't going to bring that arm anywhere near your face for quite some time. You started to lightly scratch his back with your free hand, and he let out an involuntary moan. "Is that good? Should I keep going?" you asked, and he nodded his head enthusiastically, making you laugh

"So, what do you wanna talk about?" you offered. "We can talk about literally anything". He was quiet for a moment as he mulled the question over. "I want you to tell me everything there is to know about you" Bucky said. This made you blush a little. "How about, I tell you one thing about me and you tell me one thing about you? And we just keep trading off", you said. You wanted to know absolutely everything about him, too. Bucky sighed. "Well...there isn't much for me to tell you...my brain kinda got scrambled. A lot. And I don't...I don't remember much."

You could tell that he once again felt inferior. "I know, Buck", you said, reassuringly. "Just tell me whatever you can think of. It doesn't have to be a fun fact about you from the 40's. How about I do your first one for you, okay? Here we go: you like plums." He laughed and nodded. And the two of you laid like that for a long time.

You told him about how you're allergic to horses and he let you know that he doesn't like Marvin Gaye. You told him about all the plays you'd performed in growing up and he informed you that he recently had tried this restaurant called Chipotle and didn't really care for it. You scratched his back the entire time, until you noticed that he didn't respond after you told him that you hate lima beans. "Buck?" you whispered. And then you realized that this gentle giant had fallen asleep on you. You smiled to yourself and closed your eyes, hoping that he would sleep soundly for a few hours.

The ringing of Bucky's phone startled the both of you awake. Bucky scrounged around on the floor until he found it and was able to answer. "Barnes", he said. "Yeah. Okay, yeah that's fine. Okay". He hung up and crawled back over to you, laying his head on your chest once again, and letting out a huff.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. "Um, yeah" Bucky yawned. "Just Clint calling to tell me they moved our meeting from 5 tonight to 7:30." You yawned, stretched, and resumed scratching Bucky's back. "Hey, what time is it?" you asked. He opened his sleepy eyes once more to check his phone. "Uhhh, 8:49" he stated, before shutting his eyes again.

"Wait, what?" you exclaimed. You took the phone from his hand to verify what he had just said. Sure enough, it was 8:49am. Bucky had slept for around for 3 hours since he fell asleep during your chat he and hadn't woken up screaming or thrashing from a nightmare. Not once. "Buck…You didn't have a nightmare!" you almost shouted. You kissed the top of his head and he looked up at you with wide eyes. "Oh, shit...you're right" he whispered. He was just as surprised as you were. You were so happy that the man you loved had finally gotten some restful sleep that you almost teared up.

"I don't know how that's even possible" he said. "Maybe you were just that exhausted?" you offered. He looked at you for a long moment, his eyes peering straight into your soul. "I don't think that's it. I’ve been exhausted for quite a while now…but I haven't slept like that in years. And the only thing I did differently was lay on you".

You let out a little laugh. "Buck, I don't think I fixed your PTSD-induced night terrors by just scratching your back a little". He looked at you with adoration and lifted his hand to cup the side of your face that wasn't injured. "Well it definitely helped. That was the most relaxed I've felt a really long time" he said.

"Well", you said with a laugh, "I guess you gotta keep me around, then".

He kissed you so deeply and so passionately that it felt like the two of you might merge into one being. He pulled away and gently placed his forehead against yours before whispering, "that was never a question, doll".

[bucks-metal-arm19]

MDNI! 18+ only! Comments and reblogs fuel me! Please let me know if you want a full version of this! Langauge warning and not looked over :)

Okay, but Bucky sucks at apologies. Especially after you’ve had a long day and he makes it worse by running his smart mouth about something trivial that you can’t fix today or even tomorrow! He just knows every button of yours that he can press to get the most reactions.

“I’m sorry, doll. What can I do to make you forgive me?” Bucky is using the soft, sad voice he knows usually gets him out of the dog house and he pairs it with matching his sad, blue eyes.

You were seething, metaphorical smoke coming out of your ears, and spoke without thinking.

“You can let me sit on your face and eat me out until I’m not mad at you anymore!” You were just so sick of hearing every smart comment fall from his lips and were on the right side of angry-horny to want to climb him like a tree.

His eyes widened in surprised but he couldn’t deny that the thought turned him on beyond comprehension.

“Okay. C’mere.” He toed off his boots and made quick work of taking his jeans off before climbing onto your shared bed and settling himself against the mound of pillows.

“Wh-what?” You didn’t expect him to agree so quickly and your brain was working double-time to catch up to the change of events.

“Come. Here. Now. And sit your pretty pussy on my face so I can help make you forget this awful day.”

[misswynters]

A Stark’s Fury

Cregan Stark x targ!wife! reader

[warning: blood, you getting cut in the arm

[synopsis: You are the wife of Cregan and younger sister of rhaenyra. You get cut in the arm and your son, Eddard, also gets hurt. Which makes cregan furious.

[note | here’s a lil something while i write the final chapter for winters embrace, just a short drabble :) also instead of rhae getting cut it’s you.

[requested: by anon

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting an amber glow across Driftmark. Laena Velaryon’s funeral was a somber affair, filled with the mournful silence of the assembled nobles and the soft lapping of waves against the shore. Among the gathered were you, the younger sister of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, your husband Cregan Stark, and your son Eddard, who clung to your skirts, his wide eyes taking in the solemnity of the occasion.

Your silver hair flowed down your back, and your violet eyes glistened with unshed tears as you stood beside Cregan. His strong arm encircled your waist, offering silent support. Despite the warmth of the setting sun, a chill hung in the air, a reflection of the grief that weighed heavily on your hearts.

As the ceremony proceeded, you noticed the tension simmering among the children. Your son, Eddard, stood with Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena, trying to comfort them in their shared sorrow. Your heart ached for them, especially for Rhaena, who had just lost her mother.

When the time came for the family to pay their final respects, you and Cregan approached the bier. You whispered a prayer for Laena’s soul, your voice barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves. Cregan squeezed your hand gently, his presence a solid rock amidst the turbulent sea of emotions.

After the funeral, you found yourself in the grand hall, where the tension between the Blacks and the Greens was palpable. You kept a watchful eye on Eddard, who was playing with the other children. However, the peace was shattered when a scuffle broke out between Aemond and Jace. The sight of Aemond taunting Jace, and the resulting fight, sent a shockwave through the hall.

Eddard tried to intervene, but in the chaos, he was struck and fell to the ground, crying out in pain. You rushed to his side, your heart pounding with fear and anger. Cregan was by your side in an instant, his protective instincts flaring as he assessed the situation.

“What happened?” he demanded, his voice a low growl.

“Aemond taunted Jace, and then the fight started,” you explained, your voice trembling with emotion as you cradled Eddard.

Cregan’s eyes darkened with anger. “This has gone too far.”

The confrontation escalated when Alicent Hightower, her face twisted with rage, advanced on Rhaenyra, who was defending her sons. You stepped between them, trying to defuse the situation, but Alicent’s fury was uncontrollable. She drew a knife, lunging at Rhaenyra, but you intercepted the blow.

The blade sliced across your arm, and you cried out in pain, clutching the wound. Cregan’s roar of fury echoed through the hall as he moved to shield you. He grabbed the knife from Alicent’s hand, his face a mask of rage.

“Enough!” he bellowed. “This madness ends now!”

King Viserys, looking frail and distressed, tried to intervene. “Peace! There must be peace!”

Cregan turned on the king, his eyes blazing. “Peace? Look at what your family has done! My wife is injured, my son is hurt, and for what? Petty squabbles and insults?”

Rhaenyra, tears streaming down her face, reached for you. “Sister, I’m so sorry.”

You managed a weak smile, despite the pain. “It’s not your fault, Rhaenyra. But something must change.”

As the maesters attended to your wound, Cregan kept a protective arm around you. He glared at the Greens, making it clear that any further aggression would not be tolerated. The hall was filled with a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken threats and unresolved grievances.

In the aftermath, Cregan insisted on returning to Winterfell with you and Eddard. “We’ll be safer there,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I won’t risk your lives any longer.”

You nodded, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you, Cregan.”

He kissed your forehead, his lips warm against your cool skin. “I love you. I will always protect you.”

As you prepared to leave Driftmark, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for the family you were leaving behind. You took a moment to say your farewells to Rhaenyra and her children.

“Please, take care of yourselves,” you whispered to Rhaenyra, holding her hands tightly. “We’ll be in touch, I promise.”

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes filled with worry. “Be safe, sister.”

With a final embrace, you and Cregan gathered Eddard and boarded your ship, setting sail for Winterfell. The journey was long, but Cregan’s presence and Eddard’s innocent chatter kept your spirits high.

Winterfell welcomed you with open arms. The cold, crisp air and the familiar sights brought a sense of comfort. As you settled back into your home, the events at Driftmark seemed like a distant nightmare.

Cregan, ever the doting husband, ensured you had everything you needed to recover from your injury. He personally oversaw the maesters’ treatments, and his protective nature brought you solace.

A few hours later, as you sat by the fire, Cregan wrapped a warm blanket around your shoulders and handed you a cup of hot tea. “How are you feeling?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“Better,” you replied, taking a sip. “Thanks to you.”

He smiled, sitting beside you. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

You leaned against him, finding comfort in his strength. “I know. And I’m grateful.”

Life in Winterfell slowly returned to normal. Eddard resumed his lessons and playtime with the other children, while you and Cregan focused on the responsibilities of ruling the North. Despite the distance from Driftmark, the shadow of that day lingered.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, you turned to Cregan. “Do you think things will ever be right again between the Blacks and the Greens?”

Cregan sighed, his brow furrowing in thought. “It’s hard to say. The wounds run deep. But we must try, for the sake of our family.”

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. “I want Eddard to grow up in a world where he doesn’t have to choose sides.”

Cregan’s grip on your hand tightened. “We’ll do everything in our power to make that happen.”

Many moons have passed, and your wound healed, leaving only a faint scar as a reminder of the confrontation. The bond between you and Cregan grew stronger, forged in the fires of adversity. Winterfell thrived under your joint leadership, a beacon of stability and strength. In the morning, as the first snow of the season blanketed the ground, you stood on the battlements with Cregan, watching Eddard play with the other children.

“He’s so happy here,” you remarked, smiling at the sight of your son’s laughter.

Cregan wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Of course he is, this is our home. He’s meant to be here.”

You nodded silently, feeling a deep sense of peace. Your eyes went to the scar on your arm, being reminded of what happened. You looked at your husband, with sadness in your eyes.

“I hope my family will stop this infighting, i wish for all of this today end” Your thoughts began to wonder of all the possible outcomes this conflict can end with. This could very well mean that death will linger in your family. Something no one will ever be prepared for, war costs everything.

The quietness of Winterfell enveloped you as you drifted into a fitful sleep beside Cregan. The room was cold, and the memory of the somber events—the funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon, the sharp sting of your wound—still weighed heavily on you.

In your dream, the landscape was bleak and foreboding. A storm raged over a desolate battlefield, its fury tearing at the very fabric of the sky. You wandered through the chaos, a spectral figure in the storm’s heart. Amidst the destruction, you saw a vision of a great dragon, its scales a dim and faded silver, bound by chains of ice that slowly constricted around its body. The dragon’s eyes were filled with a profound sorrow, as if it sensed the end drawing near.

A shadowy figure emerged from the storm—a man cloaked in shadows, his face obscured but his presence undeniably menacing. His voice cut through the tempest, speaking directly to your mind, “The chains of fate are not easily broken. A great loss is coming to your house.”

As you reached out to free the dragon, a dark prophecy formed in your mind, clear as day. “Cregan will face a treacherous choice,” you heard yourself say in the dream. “A betrayal will come from within. Death will follow.”

You awoke with a start, the remnants of the dream lingering like a cold shiver down your spine. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, and a profound fear gripped you. You turned to Cregan, who was lying beside you, his face furrowed in concern.

The sudden movement and your distressed state had startled him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep as he reached out to steady you. His hand found yours, his grip warm and reassuring against your icy fingers.

“My dream,” you managed to stammer, your voice trembling. “I saw... I saw something terrible. A dragon in chains, and a warning about you—”

Cregan’s eyes narrowed with concern, but he quickly sat up, his arm wrapping protectively around you. “What did you see? Tell me everything,” he urged, his voice steady despite the worry etched on his face.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “I don’t know all the details, but it felt so real. I fear that something dark is coming, and it will bring pain to us and our house.”

Cregan nodded, his expression resolute despite the alarm in his eyes. “It’s okay,” he said softly, pulling you closer to his body. “For now, try to rest. You need it” He cradled your body as you leaned towards him, the warmth of his body bringing you comfort.

As you lay back down, you could feel the storm of fear inside you slowly ebbing, but the weight of the dream’s prophecy remained heavy in your heart.

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