#bucky barnes drabble
“let me help” | b. barnes
Bucky's getting worse again, only this time he's shutting you out too.
pairing - Bucky Barnes x reader
type + wc - drabble, 689
warnings - vague vague vague mentions of bucky's nightmares, soft angst
date - 11/5/21
a/n - first official time writing bucky and first post on this blog!!!
“You’re supposed to call me when stuff like this happens,” you said. Bucky doesn’t reply. He’s staring down at the floor, eyes not moving from a specific spot. You can tell he’s listening though. “I know you don’t like it, I mean, I know it makes you feel sorta helpless not being able to do anything alone right now but… it’s not like that.”
You’re never really sure what to say but you’ve been doing your best. He’s been worse later though, waking up every night, mind and heart racing as the Winter Soldier’s memories come to the surface. You keep finding him like this, sat at a window lost in his thoughts. The bags under his eyes have returned worse than you’ve ever seen them. He’s quieter too. Doesn’t greet anyone when he walks into a room, doesn’t laugh as much or smile as wide. It’s like he’s moving backwards. And he refuses any help.
“Bucky… James, let me in, please.”
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move, barely blinks. It’s like he’s a hundred miles away. If only you could see what was going on in his head; although you knew you wouldn’t like it.
“Let me help you, I… I can’t promise things will be okay but they’ll get better, they will. Let me help you.”
It’s like trying to convince a mountain to move. You know why he’s so impenetrable, you get why it’s so hard, you just wished he hadn’t shut you out again.
“It was working, Bucky,” you said, “We were a team and you were getting better. I don’t expect everyday to be a good day and I know most of them, for a long time, will still be pretty shit but we were getting there. You were making progress. It’s okay to fall back into it again but you cannot give up, not on this. I’m not here to fix you, you’re… you’re not broken but I’m here to help you up when you stumble. I just want to help. Please just let me help.”
“You have better things to do.”
Ouch. He sounded so defeated. Your shoulders slumped and you paused, taking a deep breath.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean but it doesn’t matter if I have better things to do because I want to be here.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because I care about you,” you said, the words not really fully expressing how much you cared, “And I want you to get better and I trust you and I want you to trust me and… and you make me happy. You’re not helpless and while I know it feels like you’re having to lean on and rely on everyone, I rely on you too.
“You never pry or ask questions or demand I talk, but you listen so well when I need it and you’re kind, so so kind despite everything you’ve seen. It would be so easy to give up but I know you won’t because you never have. Bucky, I’m here to help you because I want to, so… can you do me a favour and let me?”
He’s turned to look at you now, those beautiful blue eyes watch your face as he processes your words.
“I don’t want to make you upset,” he said, “You shouldn’t have to know about what keeps me up at night.”
“You shouldn’t have had to go through what keeps you up at night,” you replied, “And I don’t have to do anything. I want to help you.”
“My nightmares are awful.”
“I know, and they do make me upset but maybe if we work through them together you don’t have to relive them over and over and you won’t feel so awful.”
“Thank you,” he said, “I… I’m sorry.”
“No,” you said, standing up and moving to sit next to him, “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s gonna get better.”
He reached sideways, grasping for your hand and wrapping it in his own. You squeezed lightly, no need for anymore words. Leaning over you laid your head on his shoulder.
It’s gonna get better, Bucky.
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Tears of grief were something Wanda Maximoff was all too well acquainted with. She’d wept for her dead parents, wept for Pietro, and wept for Vision multiple times.
Finally, on a lovely spring day, she was at least experiencing the happy kind. Her eyes had welled up as soon as she’d seen Bucky waiting for her and they overflowed during the ceremony.
They both cried throughout, voices trembling during the vows, and gently wiped each other’s tears away before sharing a very emotional kiss.
“Sorry I’m such a mess,” she apologized. “I was NOT planning on doing that.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Bucky told her gently. “They’re happy tears. We should get a free pass for life after what we’ve gone through.”
She gave a watery chuckle and threw her arms around him in love and gratitude.
“I’m so used to happiness being ripped away, that I’ve been almost holding my breath the whole time,” Wanda admitted later, when they stole a moment alone.
“I know what you mean,” he replied in between kisses. “I’ve felt that too. I will not let anyone or anything take this from us.”
“Neither will I, James,” she whispered back fiercely.
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© credits to the author, i found on pinterest. if you own it, let me know so i can add your @
bucky barnes x reader
Summary: bucky sees you without makeup and wearing glasses for the first time
Requested by: @happydazzz123
Word count: 739
Warnings: extremely fluffy shit and mentions of insecurities
Author's note: thanks for the request, darling. it was lovely to write this, hope you like it!
english it’s not my first language so I’m deeply sorry for any mistakes or inconveniences. xoxo, lola
join my tag list here
You and bucky met in the compound a couple of years ago, you were one of tony’s best hackers in the whole country, and when he needed help with something he called you.
After that day you started to hang out more at the compound, always trying to improve tech and helping the avengers with all you could.
Natasha and Wanda were the first friends you made, they were sweet and always trying to help you fit in and so you did. and in a short period, the compound became your home and the avengers your family.
The brunette super soldier became really comfortable around you after a couple of months, it started with you helping him with his vibranium arm, and when you noticed the two of you were hanging out together every damn time of the day.
The bond evolved smoothly, you two spent years as friends before realizing the different feelings for each other, but nothing stood in your way when you finally did.
You had a lot of insecurities, for example, none of the avengers has ever seen you without any makeup on or with your glasses, not even your boyfriend bucky. until one day.
F.R.I.D.A.Y was malfunctioning and nobody could figure out why, without being able to sleep you went to the lab in the middle of the night, your only goal was to put F.R.I.D.A.Y back online before everybody woke up.
The first thing that everyone that entered the lab would notice was the mathematical equations all over the place, a cup of coffee that was refilled every 10 minutes, and a hyper-stressed and full of energy girl.
You couldn’t understand what made the AI shut down, tony had said that that type of thing has never happened before. letting you fix it while he was on vocations with pepper and morgan was one of the hardest things he ever did, he hated when people would shove their noses on his tech but after Pepper’s threat, the man gave up and gave you the password to F.R.I.D.A.Y hard drive.
Two floors above you Bucky was sleeping peacefully, he had gotten home from a mission a couple of days ago and he would sleep for hours to recompose his energy. Even super-soldiers would get tired with the never-ending missions.
Bucky woke up and went to your bedroom, when he got there and saw the door open and the empty room he knew exactly where to find you.
You were staring at the board where most of your notes were, when you felt two big hands wrapping your waist and bringing you close. “what are you doing in the lab in the middle of the night?” with a raspy voice bucky whisper into your ear.
You turn around to face him and he gets a little confused but lets you talk first.
“im just trying to fix F.R.I.D.A.Y i wanted her to be online before everybody wakes up but i am exhausted and i don’t even have a clue of what’s going on” you notice the confusion in bucky’s eyes “what’s wrong?” your question makes a smile appear on his face.
“nothing… it’s just that a didn’t know that you wore glasses…” you quickly take them of your face “HEY! why do you do that?” you turn your face to the other side, your body was filled with embarrassment.
“i don’t look good with glasses… and without makeup” bucky stood in front of you taking the glasses of your hands and putting them in your face then he cups your cheeks with his hand.
“you look beautiful with glasses and even more beautiful without makeup” then he kissed every inch of your face, making sure that you knew how beautiful you were.
The last kiss was planted on your lips, a soft and long kiss with the intention to transmit all the love he felt with a simple act. you couldn’t help yourself from giggling in the middle of the kiss.
“what you think about going to your room and trying to sleep a bit? you can fix F.R.I.D.A.Y tomorrow morning” you hugged bucky’s tall body resting your head in his chest
“it’s an amazing idea” he kissed your head and you two walked out of the laboratory.
You had one of the best night of sleep of your entire life, it was impossible to be sad while wrapped in bucky’s arms.
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The Best Worst Day Of Your Life: Bucky x Reader
It was an incredibly awkward way to meet one's’s future spouse, but looking back on it later, you realized it would make an incredible tale to tell your future children. It started with you being dumped at the altar, because the man you were crazy in love with and had promised to marry changed his mind.
You’d fled the church, unable to face your friends and family, and wandered until you found a bench, just inside the nearby cemetery.
Throwing yourself down on it, you cried your eyes out. How could he do this to you? He’d told you many times he’d looked forward to being your husband. He’d been counting down the days with you and eagerly planning the future. You couldn’t figure out what had suddenly changed and how you hadn’t seen it coming.
As the sobs turned to sniffles, you heard footsteps coming up beside you and someone cleared their throat.
“Ma’am? Are you alright?” a deep voice asked.
You blinked away the tears to see a tall brown haired man standing there, looking at you with concern. He wore a lot of leather and was a bit scruffy and you probably wouldn't have acknowledged him if you’d been thinking straight. However, You were too heartbroken to care about stranger danger.
“No,” you said bluntly, wiping away more tears. So much for that mascara.
“I just got dumped at the altar. The best day of my life just became the worst.”
The stranger winced.
“Aw. That’s terrible,” he sympathized. “I’ll never understand why people wait until the last second if they can’t go through with it. A real Dick move.”
“Clearly, he didn’t have much of one,” you said bitterly.
You noticed he had a bunch of flowers in his hands and you realized that your ugly sobbing had probably disturbed his graveside vigil.
Very embarrassed, you buried your face in your hands.
“And I’ve been making a spectacle of myself in this cemetery. I’m so sorry to bother you, Mister. I promise I’m not that inconsiderate normally.”
“I wouldn’t say Crying is generally considered out of place in a cemetery,” the man observed. “And you aren’t bothering me. I was just paying my semi regular respects. My parents have been gone for years and I like to bring flowers for them.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” you said.
There was something very familiar about his face, but you couldn’t think what it was. It was a very nice face, though.
Picking yourself up, you dusted off your dress, hoping it wouldn’t be stained. Your attempt to walk forward, however, didn’t go well as your heels sank in the damp grass.
“Argh!” You groaned. “I did not think this through.”
Sitting back down, you removed your shoes. Better to get dirty feet than a dirty expensive dress.
“Can you get back okay?” The stranger asked.
“I think so,” you nodded. “You seem like a good guy. I hope your special someone appreciates you.”
Cute stranger cracked a very attractive grin. (His chin had an adorable dimple that you tried your hardest not to stare at.)
“I don’t have one, but thanks. I hope your ex realizes what an idiot he was.”
“Thanks,” you said with a grateful smile, glancing back toward the church. Your stomach churned, but you couldn’t avoid it much longer. “I’d better get going before they send out a search party. Time to face this mess.”
“So long. Hope your day gets better,” offered leather guy.
With a wave, you started back toward the church, thinking it was a shame such a nice guy was still single, never dreaming you’d meet him again.
Nearly three years later, after having sworn off romance in the wake of your own disaster, you were finally persuaded by an old college friend to go on a double date with her. It took a lot of pleading from Darcy, but when she said she was dating the new Captain America, you were more inclined to go through with it, if for nothing else than to meet the amazing Sam Wilson.
“Ok, fine. But his friend better be worth this,” you told her. “I’m not breaking my drought for some average dudebro.”
Darcy grinned in delight.
“There is nothing average about either of them. Trust me,” she said with a naughty grin.
Turned out Sam Wilson was a very charming guy and super cool when being introduced to you. You could see right away why he and Darcy were so good together and your misgivings were somewhat eased.
“So, please introduce me to your mysterious friend that no one will give me any clues about,” you said, looking pointedly at Darcy.
Sam pulled his friend out of the corner where he’d been lurking and pushed him toward you.
“Y/N, meet James Barnes, otherwise known as Bucky, otherwise known as a pain in the ass.”
You and Bucky looked at each other and then a shock of recognition had you exclaiming in unison, “Cemetery guy!!” “Jilted Bride!”
You stared at each other in disbelief, Sam and Darcy also wide-eyed, before the realization of who he was sank in.
“You’re Bucky Barnes?” You gasped out.
Bucky was looking very nervous now.
“Is that going to be a problem?” He asked, in a wary way that suggested it HAD been a problem before.
“Nope. I’m just flabbergasted I didn’t recognize you before. There was something about you that made me instinctively trust you, even though you were a stranger. I could tell you were a good guy.”
“Awww,” Darcy crooned as a crooked smile appeared on Bucky’s face.
“Let’s get our table and you can fill us in on your mysterious meeting! I demand details!” And Darcy herded you into the restaurant with unbridled enthusiasm.
When you and Bucky had finished your story, Sam and Darcy both went “awww!”
“So, you know about me, then?” Bucky asked quietly.
You nodded and he gave a sigh of relief.
“Well, I’ll take it as a good sign you’re still here.”
He looked hopeful and your heart was filled with emotions. This man was a hero who’d spent years brainwashed and forced to do horrible things, but he really was a very good man.
“This is the first time I’ve gone on a date since he dumped me,” you admitted. “I haven’t really wanted to, unless the guy gave me the same vibes you did.”
Bucky smiled at you very warmly.
“Thanks for giving it a chance, Y/N. I haven’t had much luck dating either. I think I was subconsciously comparing them all to you.”
You felt entirely too giddy at this statement.
“Their loss,” you said with a wink. “So, do I get to see your other hand, or is that a third date kind of thing?” You asked boldly, glancing at his left arm, which he’d kept mostly concealed in the leather jacket.
Sam snorted and Darcy chuckled, but Bucky turned pink and almost sheepishly placed his metal left hand on the table.
“Force of habit,” he said. “Freaks people out.”
“Not me. I think it’s gorgeous,” you told him, admiring the intricate design. “Wakanda?”
“Yep,” Bucky said, flexing it. “They’re geniuses. Fixed my brain and everything. No more worrying about being turned into the soldier again.”
“I’m very happy for you, Bucky,” you told him, feeling genuine joy for his good news. “I can’t imagine what a relief that must be.”
Sam and Darcy took charge of the conversation for a while and you and Bucky mostly stole glances at each other. Somehow, though, your hand ended up clasped in his metal one.
“So, were you able to resell your dress then?” Bucky asked. “I’ve heard they can put quite a dent in one’s wallet these days.”
“Yeah, actually I was,” you told him. “A friend of mine bought it and wore it to her wedding, which had a much happier result. At least one good thing came out of that mess.”
“Only one?” He asked, squeezing your hand gently.
“Well……..I guess we’re about to find out,” you told him, smiling shyly.
A couple years later, you were wearing white again, but this time the groom showed up, looking unbelievably handsome and grinning ear to ear.
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Hmmm, other than Bucky who is your favorite character? (AND HI, I HOPE YOUR DAY IS GOING AWESOME~ <3)
And hi! You have a good day too.
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What's your favorite thing to write for? Like is it angst, fluff, smut, etc. ?
Angst turned fluff!
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Let’s play truth!!! Send random questions you have about me and I will have to answer. 🌸🦋
Taglist! @angel-of-hell-cece1967 @academiawhore @buckys2thicc @caritobbg @l-queen1 @mannien @sah1x1s @wakandabiitch2
I apologize if you aren’t tagged. I can’t exactly tag all 80 of my mutuals.😅
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Secrets (Four) || Bucky Barnes
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: when you wake up in the avengers compound after being saved by bucky, sam and nat, you discover that something’s changed.
a/n: thank you for all your feedback!! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!
word count: 2.7k
warnings: arguing, swearing, angst
Prologue, One, Two, Three
masterlist || request || taglist
Opening your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, you were immediately met with ice coating the ceiling above you despite feeling as though you were locked in a sauna.
Sitting up in your bed, you tried to piece together where you were, why you were here and what had just happened, but all you could see was the concrete room you were sat in with nothing but a bright light shining above you and frost coating every inch of the room.
Suddenly the events of the day all came back to you- the men in your house, being kidnapped, being locked in a container to freeze to death... the truth about your husband.
The last thing you remembered were his eyes meeting yours on the other side of the glass.
Despite years of marriage and precious memories, all that flooded your brain were the images of the Winter Soldier- masked and ready to kill. All you could hear were the screams of his victims and those who fled at the sight of him.
All you could feel was fear.
“You’re awake.” You heard an unfamiliar voice declare.
Snapping your attention towards the door of the room you hadn’t even noticed was there, you recognized the very familiar red-headed Avenger standing in the doorway.
“Wait, you’re.... are you-” You stumbled over your words. “Where am I?”
Carefully stepping into the room, closing the door behind her, Natasha slowly made her way over to your bed.
“You’re at the Avengers Compound.” She informed you. “Do you remember anything?”
You thought then that she might have been glad to learn that you had retained your memory, but you sure wished you hadn’t.
“More than I’d like to.” You said.
Shooting you a sad smile, her gloved hands pulled up the chair next to your bed, seating herself beside you. As she did you finally took in her appearance, noting the large jacket she was wearing, the hood over her head and thick gloves on her hands, meanwhile you felt as though you were soaking in your own sweat.
“God, how are you wearing that?” You asked, pointing at her jacket. “It’s so hot in here.”
Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair.
“Well when you’re ninety degrees, I guess an ice rink would feel a little warm.”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you sat up straighter in your bed.
“Ninety degrees?” You asked. “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”
“That’s what we all thought.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, you remembered the feeling of the frost hitting your skin when you were enclosed in the container, the sounds of the cold air rushing out of its walls. You were trapped, feeling the biting cold in a way you never had before. So cold that when the frost began to form over the glass, your husband’s eyes meeting yours, all you could feel was the cooling sense of exhaustion wash over you as you closed your eyes and fell into a deep slumber.
“How long have I been out?” You asked.
Just as Natasha was opening her mouth, you heard a voice coming from the other side of the room.
Your eyes snapping open, you turned your attention immediately to the man in the doorway. When you saw your husband standing in the threshold, you felt your heart begin to race in your chest as you scrambled back against the bed frame.
“You.” You said, swallowing, the word venomous in your mouth.
Hearing the word slip out of your mouth almost as though it were a cruse, Bucky’s eyes widened and he began to feel his heart beat against his chest.
He knew then that the consequence of the secret he had been keeping for years was now staring him back in the face.
“Y/n-” He eased, taking another step forward.
Grabbing the pillow from behind your back, you tossed it at him.
“You lied to me!” You shouted. “You fucking lied to me all these years. I- it’s sick!”
Letting the pillow hit his chest, he began to feel sick.
He had known deep down that someday his past would come back to haunt him. Even deeper down he knew that someday you would discover the truth, but he had hoped to be gone by then, leaving you to hate him once he could no longer feel your wrath. He had shoved down the idea of the look on your face when you found out for years, but now as he stood there, his own nightmares playing out before him, he just wished he had told the truth sooner.
The consequence of losing you and never having you was better than knowing your love and having it tainted with hatred by his own hand.
“Doll,” He said your pet name, his shoulders slouching.
“No!” You shouted, pushing yourself off of the bed. “You don’t get to call me that anymore! God, did ever even feel bad about lying to your own wife?”
He felt awful every time he made up some lie about his past. He felt awful every time he told you he had no family, no friends. He even felt awful every morning when he lied to you about where he was going off to work every day.
It had been eating away at him for years.
He had told himself that it was for the best, but he realized now that he didn’t do it for you, but entirely for himself. He had been so incredibly selfish and you were now paying for his crimes.
“Of course I did.” Bucky said so low, it was nearly a whisper. “Of course I felt bad, Y/n.”
Before you could reply, you heard another knock on the door, it cracking open slightly.
“Oh thank God.” Natasha said from her seat when she saw Bruce and Sam.
Dropping your hands to your sides, you turned away from your husband, instead focussing your attention on the two Avengers now entering the icy space.
Before anyone could speak, however, the man you recognized as Captain America made his way over to you, reaching his gloved hand out for you to shake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m Sam. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but...”
Glaring at Bucky, you shook Sam’s hand.
“Sam.” You said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you too.”
Your eyes still on your husband, the three others in the room glanced between one another before Bruce cleared his throat.
“Y- you’re probably wondering about the ice in the room,” Bruce said
“You could say that.”
“Well, while you were out for the past couple of days we had some of the best doctors we know examine you,” Bruce explained. “I understand that this may be... difficult... to understand, but this- this ice- it’s-”
“It’s coming out of you.” Sam said finally, finishing Bruce’s sentence for him.
Quirking your eyebrows at the three members of the group of Avengers, you thought for a second before shaking your head, laughing.
“You’re joking, right?” You asked. “You have to be kidding.”
This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way you actually had ice coming out of your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t real.
Standing up from her seat, Natasha crossed her arms.
“When you were in cryo, you were in temperatures nobody comes back from.” She said, seriously. “You should be dead right now. No one knows why you’re still here.”
Lifting your hands from your sides to stare at your palms, you attempted to digest the information the three of them had just fed you.
You were alive when every logical answer said you shouldn't have been. You had abilities that no other living person did.
You were supposed to be at home, spending the weekend with your children. You were supposed to wait for your completely honest husband to walk in the doors of your home and kiss him hello.
But now you were standing there, being told that you had changed- transformed. You were different than you were before. You didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, but cold and distraught.
Feeling the anger course through your veins, tears meeting your eyes, you stared at your palms and in a flash, frost burst forth from the center of your hand.
Jumping back, you rapidly closed your hands into a fist, feeling your heart thumping against your chest.
“I understand that this is hard to take in-” Banner attempted.
“I’m... I’m a monster.” You said, staring up at them with wide eyes. “I have ice coming out of my hands!”
Gazing at you from the other side of the room, watching the fear in your eyes behind the tears begging to break free, Bucky felt incredibly guilty.
He had known what you were going through because he had gone through the same himself. He had woken up only to discover that he had become a super soldier with a metal arm- that he was no longer Bucky Barnes- but someone else- someone different.
He would have never wished the experience on his worst enemy, never mind the woman he cared for most in the world, but you were experiencing it nonetheless. You were in it because of him.
He had told himself that he was trying to protect you, but in the end he had forced you into a life you had never asked for.
He felt his heart shatter in his chest watching you fall apart before everyone.
All he wished was for him to be able to go over to you, to hold you in his arms despite the cold bite of ice that was sure to frost over him as soon as his skin met yours, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t want him to.
“Y/n that’s not true.” Sam said. “I know it might feel that way, but you’re still you and Bruce is going to figure out a way for you to control it. I know it seems bad, but you’re going to be okay. You’re a part of our family now. We’ll figure it out, alright?”
Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded.
As much as you were in shock, you trusted the three individuals in front of you. They hadn’t given you a reason not to- they had risked their lives to save you and even now when you felt they owed you nothing, they were working their best to help you.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You said. “Really. I think I just need some space right now.”
“I understand.” Sam nodded. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”
Without a word the others followed him as he left the room and you slowly made your way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, placing your head in your hands.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
Shaking your head you pulled your face out of your hands.
“What part of ‘I need space’ don’t you understand, Buck?” You asked.
You heard his footsteps slowly cross over the room to you.
“I need to say something-”
Of course he did.
“Oh that’s rich, James!” You scoffed. “Funny how now you have something to say. Funny how you didn’t say anything when we started dating, or got married, or God- had children together.”
“It’s just so insane to me how you could go all this time without saying anything.” You continued. “How could you even look yourself in the mirror-”
“Fuck, Y/n, just listen to me!” He shouted, standing in front of your spot on the bed. “I fucked up really bad- I know that. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t you see why I did it? I was so afraid you’d be ashamed of me because of what I am and I thought I was protecting you-”
Feeling the ice beginning to shoot out of your palm, you pushed yourself off of the bed, pointing your finger into your husband’s chest.
“I’m ashamed to have a liar as a husband.” You said, knowing just how much the words stung for him, but you felt nothing but ice flowing through you at the moment in the heat of rage. “How could you think this was protecting us? How could you think keeping the truth from me was protecting our kids? You not only put me in danger but my kids, Buck.”
“They’re my kids too, Y/n.” Bucky said.
“Are they?” You asked. “Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
You watched as he stepped back, his back hitting the icy wall behind him. He had known you were angry, he even knew that he deserved every harsh word you were throwing at him, but to hear you dismiss him so entirely- to almost denounce him from your life- made him feel a pain that even his worst days in Hydra or in recovery could never rival.
“I- I mean I don't even know who I am anymore, Buck.” You said throwing your arms in the air. “I mean look at this. Look at this room! Nobody can even touch my hand without gloves or without bundling up like they’re going to the fucking North Pole!”
Backing away from him, you held your face in your hands once again.
“I don’t even recognize myself and I’m all alone.” You said, lowering your voice. “I- I can’t even hug my kids- I can’t see my kids. It’s so hot in this room to me but everything just feels so cold and empty. I just wish you didn’t fucking lie to me because it would be so much easier to not hate you the way I do right now. Looking at you makes me want to scream but, God, I feel so alone.”
Beginning to feel a sob catch in your throat, your head still in your hands and the tears turning to ice when they met your palms, you felt the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand meet your arm.
Shrugging him off, you shook your head.
“As much as I fucking hate you right now, you can’t touch me, James.” You said. “I’ll just hurt you.”
He knew that. He knew the biting sting of your ice against his skin. He had spent the past two days sitting by your unconscious side and no matter how many times the others told him to keep his gloves on at all times, your touch mattered more. They brought more warmth than any glove could- no matter how cold your hands were.
Seeing you breakdown in front of him, despite all of the harsh words you had thrown at him, he was sure he felt his heart break in his chest. You didn’t deserve this pain. You didn’t deserve this suffering. You didn’t deserve to be alone.
Resting his vibranium hand on your arm once again, the frost slowly creeping up his arm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping both of his arms around you, he pulled you into his embrace. Rather than shrugging him off and pulling away, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, digging your face into his bundled up chest, sobbing.
Feeling a chill run throughout his body at your touch, he rest his chin on the top of your head, running his frozen vibranium arm up and down your back.
Although he knew that all was not forgiven, and that things would not be the same or even okay for a long time- if at all- all that mattered to him in that moment was that you weren’t alone. No matter the ice that overtook his body when you were in his embrace, the warmth that you brought him would never grow cold.
Going into cyro ten thousand times would be worth just one second of your peace and he would do whatever it took for you to forgive him for his mistakes that you now bore the consequences of.
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One word prompt: regret.
Sorry, it's the first word that came to mind!
Steve’s whole life had been permeated with regret—namely, the kind that came with letting down the people he loved. He would always regret not getting to see his Ma the day before she died. He would always regret not being stronger, not being able to do more to help when he was young.
He regretted letting everything go wrong, being careless enough to let Bucky fall off that fucking train. (Though in retrospect, it was impossible to know if different decisions could have prevented the same outcome— if Hydra wouldn’t have found another way to get their hands on Bucky. How much of fate was unchangeable and for how much could he take the blame?)
All the firefights. Friends turned to enemies, he regretted, sometimes, that it all went down like it did, but he didn’t regret those choices. (He would do it all again.) But, this happened sometimes—in the earliest hours of the morning; in the gray silence of their room, listening to Bucky’s steady breathing—Steve would get lost in his head with ‘what if’s.’ He’d spiral.
And the only antidote for it was to get up, get moving. Sneakers pounding on pavement or the steady thud of fists into canvas was what he needed. So, he carefully extracted himself from Bucky’s arm around his waist, only for Bucky to make a soft noise of protest. (Bucky always complained at the loss of warmth, even if he was used to this routine.) That pout , though. Accompanied with the long lines of his body tangled in sheets, gold-undertoned skin and white linen; or the dog tags— Steve’s dog tags, right at home on his bare chest—it all made it damn-near impossible for Steve to go. Softly, Bucky let his arm fall back to the mattress, reaching for the body that had been next to him.
Steve leaned over and kissed his closed eyelids, then the tip of his nose. “Be back so soon you won’t even miss me.”
“I always miss you.” Bucky grumbled, lips curling into a smirk. He peeked one eye open, unabashedly watching Steve across the room slipping into running shorts and a t-shirt.
Another kiss against Bucky’s forehead, an exchange of ‘ I love you ,’ and Steve made his way out the door.
(You can read the whole thing here)
(This seems so angsty but it gets really cute at the end, I promise)
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A missing feeling
pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader
a/n: i'm so in love w this man idk why i didn't write for him sooner. This is also me trying to find comfort lmfoa. It's rather a personal experience. This is for everybody feeling this way, i know i'm not the only one and it's ok to feel like this, stay safe and know that you are valid and deserve help. and if you need somebody to talk to about this or anything that's been bothering you, my messages are open💙💙
And thank you to the loving @emmastarz for teaching me how to make dividers 💙🤧
summary: A missing feeling can't always be replaced by something good. Bucky is willing to help you find the good to replace the bad with.
warnings: mental health issues, insecurities/fears, eating disorder, mention(s) of calories, hints of self-harm, talks of therapy
requests | my taglist
This isn’t foreign. It isn’t a new feeling, or emotion. More like, missing. It feels like you had a sense of control. There aren’t a lot of things you can control, things in your own hand. But this is one of those you had the chance to control. It isn’t really a good thing, but it brought you happiness, a sense of calm, knowing you reached the limit and didn’t feel empty.
You also don’t do it because you wanted to, willingly. It feels like you just got dragged back into this negative habit. Some may say it’s an addiction to count and count and want to see the numbers everyday. Some others tell you at least you’re trying. “As long as you don’t lose your goal,” they tell you. As if you didn’t lose it a long time ago.
You stare down at your phone in hand, its light the only thing illuminating your dark room. You’re laying in your bed, covers long shoved away and only sitting there in your big sweater and shorts. The sweater swallows you whole, not really letting you see your body.
Another negative trait.
Your therapist had told you about this. “A part of recovery is accepting your body,” she said to you. It’s carved its way into your brain, you remember her words everytime you walk past a mirror. Which is, again, why you avoid doing so. The baggy clothes help you hide, hide the fact that you’re changing again. And although that is a good thing, your mind won’t let you think so. Or more like, the disorder won’t. Your mind was already past the first step of recovery: accepting your disorder, knowing and wanting to get help. It wasn’t an easy step and took you a long time to go through, but with the help of your amazing and loving friends, it passed quickly.
Accepting your body when you’re fighting against a mental illness that takes over your whole life, mind and body, such as an eating disorder, isn’t the easiest thing to do. The disorder revolves around doing the exact opposite, so how is this supposed to be easy? How are you supposed to tell your mind to do a full 180 and forget what it learned in the past three years and listen to what your therapist and friends tell you?
And then there are the numbers and food. At first, this doesn’t make sense. Numbers and food aren’t supposed to come and be together. They are two completely different things. Food, to fuel you and for you to enjoy. And the numbers. There for you to fall down a deep, deep dark and hate filled hole. Which takes you back to the screen of your phone staring back at you.
Three numbers aligned next to each other, black on white. Different pictures of food below the different numbers, some marked with the word “free”, some showing you a lock on the picture, meaning you’d have to unlock the content and pay for it. This also isn’t new. The app, the numbers, the joy and euphoria filling your brain when you went another day hiding it.
Bucky told you to delete this app off your phone weeks ago. You had promised him to do so after he warned you and told you he’d do it, but you just needed some time. And he trusted you and gave you a kiss on the cheeks, reminding you of how beautiful you are and that he’s always there to remind you of it and to let you vent. For you to turn to him instead of the numbers when you needed a sense of control and just to talk. He had even asked if you were interested in finding a mutual interest, which you had turned down with a wave of your hand and a convincing enough smile. And now here you are, still on that same damn app and trying to hide your body from yourself.
This isn’t what they call recovery. This isn’t what your therapist encouraged you to do.
Your phone blinked with a message after it locked again, snapping you out your lost mind and drawing your eyes back to it. You unlock it and read the message.
We ordered your favorite.
u coming down?
A shaky breath leaves your lips and you turn the phone around. How are you supposed to hide the fact that you lied to your friends in front of your friends? You knew this would be coming, but you hoped they’d at least wait a little longer until they invited you to eat together. Although Bruce suggested eating together, talking about it being “therapeutic, helpful and making you forget about the numbers for the moment.” And he is right. It does make you forget about them when eating with the people you love, but it’s the pain and anger that hits you after leaving your friends that makes you doubt everything you take in. And it hurts. So, so much.
There’s a knock on the door, silent. You almost don’t hear it, too lost in your thoughts and fears. You get up slowly and lift yourself off your bed, this motion alone almost taking up all energy in you. You step to the door and grab the door handle, breathing in and getting ready to answer whatever question would be thrown at you. But to your luck, only Bucky is standing in front of it, beaming and two small bottles of orange juice in his hand.
“Hey,” he whispers. You reply with a tired smile. He pulls you into a soft hug, holding himself back from wincing when he sees the state your room is in. You had definitely been laying in bed all weekend. And he doesn’t blame you. If he only had been through half the things you have been going through for years, he’d be laying in bed and trying to relax too. You invite him in as you pull back and step to the side, closing the door behind him and turning on the lights in your room. He makes a mental note to help you clean the next day and walks to your bed, throwing himself in and patting the empty space next to him. You go and sit next to him. He pulls you in and draps an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his strong form and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You relax and let out a sigh, closing your eyes.
All you want to do right now is just sleep. Close your eyes and sleep, sleep, sleep.
Everything is happening so fast. Questions, hours of listening to and meeting professionals, hours of needing to be checked by doctors and weeks of your friends not leaving your side. They are all worried about you and you know it, you just wish they’d give you a minute to relax and breathe. And it seems like Bucky is the only one to know how to react. Hell, he literally escaped and hid for years because everything was too much and he didn’t want to be recognized. He makes you calm down, relax and just lets you breathe and think, even though he’s in the same room as you.
“What are you thinking about?” he whispers into the comfortable silence. You stir, moving your head a little only enough to look straight ahead of you and at the door. “Not much, I guess,” you mutter. He nods.
“Have you- have you done it?” He looks down at your face, noticing the frown. “Deleting the app,” he quickly adds. You start chewing on your bottom lip and lift your head off his shoulder, now directly looking at him.
“No,” You shake your head and clench your jaw. He notices your distress and takes your hand in his, softly drawing circles with his thumb on it. He wants to know why.
“I’m just,” you sigh, “it’s happening so fast, you know? I just need time, Bucky. Everyone expects me to instantly go all happy and accepting but it takes so much of me to even get up, knowing you all think I’m doing great.” you explain. Mentally, everything is so draining. Even talking about it with him makes you tired.
“Is there something that happened?” he asks. You shake your head, no.
“It’s like something is missing, you know?” You lean your head back on his shoulder. “I miss this feeling of being able to control what I take. I know it’s bad, but it’s not foreign. It isn’t new. I’m scared of trying new things. What if I fail? What if I turn something good into something bad?”
“What- what if this is the only thing I got control over? It makes me feel comfortable for some reason. All I’m asking for is time and a new thing I can trade this for, but I’m scared.” you explain. Bucky turns his head, lowering it and planting a kiss on your head.
“Look, I know I don’t entirely understand what you’re going through. I’ve never counted…” “calories?” He nods. “Yeah, that. I never did that. But I know what it feels like to think you have no control over your own life. I know why you turn to this instead of searching for something better. It feels easy and brings you joy,” he stops and glances at you, eyes full of worry. You nod, your eyes still fixed ahead of you and not him.
“See? It’s all about it feeling easy. and it brings you joy. We can find something else. When I used to-” he stops himself. Maybe right now, this is a little too much for you. “Uh, when I also did things, Steve asked me to go to this library and start reading. They had a cat and it always came up to me when I entered the library.” He smiles at the thought.
“And so I found joy going there and it distracted me from the bad thoughts. I now have two bookshelves filled with books in my room.” he completes.
“Is that also why you got Alpine?” you ask jokingly. He chuckles, his vibrating chest making you bite your bottom lip and smirk.
“Yes, that’s also why I got the cat.” You nod and hide back in your thoughts. This is going to be difficult, you know that. Hiding longer won’t bring you closer to your goal either. You have friends who support you, and the chance to get a therapist.
So why not do it? You already started getting better. It’s your mind that pulls you back and doesn’t let you go. It’s like this disorder got hands, grabbing after you when you’re about to slip from its fingers and pulling you back to its bad goal, because it knows you’d come back.
But you don’t want this anymore.
It’s exhausting. Grabbing your phone, logging in whatever drink or food entered past your lips and waiting to see the app calculate and see what number it is today. Because you know it’s going to be disappointing anyways, even if that euphoria and excitement is there for a second, it’s going to leave you again and let you worry on your own. It’s comforting, but not forever. It shouldn’t be comforting anyways, and you know that.
“Are you listening?” You flinch and lift your head. “I asked you if you want to go to the library with me tomorrow?” You hum, still not entirely listening to your boyfriend. And he notices.
“Y/N, what’s wrong? I know that face,” he notes. You groan and turn to him. He raises his hand, placing his thumb under your chin and making you look up at him. He’s got a soft and worried look in his eyes.
“I don't know what, really.” You shake your head and free your body from his hold. A sigh leaves your lips and you drop your head down again.
“I already told you everything’s going so fast and I- I don’t understand what’s happening half of the time. I get these really energetic bursts of energy where I feel like running through Tony’s yard and still feel happy. And then suddenly I feel like the whole world’s watching and judging me,” you explain.
“And then again, some days I get really motivated and want to recover. I really do, Bucky. I really-,” your voice cracks at the end of your sentence as your eyes fill with tears. Talking about it feels good, but it’s hard. “I’m trying so hard and then there’s days where I download the app, count, and I just want to isolate myself and be anyone but me,”
“And today’s one of those days?” he asks softly. You nod.
“Not only today. It’s been like this for weeks now, but these past three days have been so difficult going through.” Another silence fills your room, only Bucky’s breathing could be heard and your own heartbeat in your ears. You’re happy and thankful for Bucky for not judging you or being disappointed in you for lying to him these past days. Your mind was already taking the role of doing so and it was tiring.
“Do you want me to tell Bruce? He can tell your therapist and the-” You cut him off with a shake of your head and shuffle closer to him, wrapping your own arm around him and finding comfort on his broad chest. He relaxes into your touch and wraps his arms around you, lowering his head, chin resting on your head after placing a kiss on it.
“I just want to stay here, with you. We can talk about this later.”
Bucky knows better than to push you and make you uncomfortable to the point where you feel forced to talk about this longer. So he chooses to nod and hold you closer to him, savouring the moment. He loves moments like these with you, just hanging around together.
“Ok, but you promise me one thing,” he starts. You hum, encouraging him to go on. “You’ll come to me the next time you feel like this.” You’re about to argue when he warns you.
“And no, you’ll not argue. I want the best for you. Please, I want to help as much as I can,” he lets you know.
“You’re already helping me by being with me. This right now? Having you with me is better than therapy,” you joke, but his face stays stern and demanding as you raise your head to glance at him. You groan and roll your eyes. “Ok, I promise. But I promise I’ll try. I can’t guarantee it, but I’ll try my best,” you say. He frowns and thinks for a second. He’d get the truth out of you anyways. Bucky knows lying to him wasn’t easy for you.
“Okay, but now,” He raises your head again, eyes darting down to your lips and wetting his own. “Now I want to spend time with my love,” he whispers as he dips his head down, capturing your lips in a slow and intimate kiss. You smile into the kiss and feel him smirk. A breathy chuckle leaves his mouth as you seperate your lips from his, leaning your head against his chest.
“Can we watch a movie?”
“What? Not again!” You smile and nod eagerly. “Of course again! It makes me happy,” you reason and get ready to lift yourself from the bed. He takes your hand and pulls you back into his lap. “Let me get everything ready. You stay here and wait,” he tells you as he gets up. You smile and peck his lips before he gets up, a grin plastered on his face.
“You’re like a big baby when I kiss you,” you tease him.
“What? Am I not allowed to be happy when the person I love loves me too?” he protests, earning another eye roll from you.
“Yeah, yeah. Go get the movie, I want to cuddle!” He laughs and leaves the room, not before sending you an air kiss.
@bi-lmg @fandomxreaders @aayaissaa
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Can I request Bucky x Reader where he gets hurt on a mission and the reader scolds him but only because the reader is worried about him?
I Can’t Lose You, Either.
A/N: AHHH MY FIRST REQUEST!! Also, uh, whoops, no idea what the hell happened here. Do I smell a series? Maybe. I don’t know. I hope so. Depends on how the motivation wave goes. Also, if this seems a bit choppy, it’s because it started out as a bullet fic and then I decided “nah.”
The call comes in the middle of the night. It’s Tony.
It’s about Bucky.
For just a moment, you think he’s dead
And then where would you be? You don’t know what you would do without him. So yeah, you’re pissed as you drive over to the tower to go pick him up, as Tony requested. It was supposed to be a simple mission, but isn’t that always the case? It’s always supposed to be simple, but then someone--your idiot boyfriend more often than not--ends up injured.
You try to swallow the urge to fall into his arms when you see him, sitting on the edge of the bed and talking to Steve & Tony. You’re supposed to be mad right now. And you are, make no mistake. But seeing Bucky makes you realize how relieved you are. There’s a bandage around his torso, blood on his shirt and hands form trying to stop the bleeding. His hair is matted from sweat, dirt, and more blood.
Steve & Tony take one look at your face and back on out of the room. You might not have a superpower anymore, but hell hath no fury like an angry y/n, and the whole team knows it. Including Bucky, who immediately begins trying to placate you.
”Doll, I’m fine. It’s already mostly healed up, look--” he tries to show you the injury, but you push him away.
”I don’t care if you’re fine! The point is you could’ve been not fine!” you say. “You have to be more careful, Buck. It’s like you don’t give a shit! You’re always doing this!”
”Y/n, of course I give a shit. Don’t say that. I do all this because I give a shit. Several, in fact. ” he tries to come closer, but again you back away. You know if you let him get close, let him touch you, you’ll fall apart. You’re just too damn attached to & enamored with this self-sacrificing idiot to stay mad if he does.
”Yeah, sure, you give a shit about all of them,” you gesture vaguely. “But what about me, huh? Me, who’s now stuck waiting at home every night wondering if I’m gonna get the call that you’re dead? Wondering if the last time you kissed me on the head and told me you loved me was the last time ever, huh?” you cut yourself off before you start crying, practically hysteric, voicing your fears to him for the first time.
”Y/n, I promise you, I’m trying to be careful.” You have to admit, these stunts he’s pulled have lessened in number since you got pulled from the field.
”Then what happened tonight?” you ask.
”I thought I was gonna lose you,” he says quietly. Now he’s the one not meeting your eye.
”What?” you ask.
”It was the HINGE operatives,” he says bluntly. “We didn’t know when we went in, or I never would’ve left your side. They were here for you, y/n,” he looks up. The name hits you like a punch to the gut. Human Investigative Normal Gene Enhancement. HINGE. The people who made you who you are. Or rather, who you were.
”Why?” you ask.
”They caught wind that your powers are gone. They wanted to ‘fix’ you,” he says hoarsely. “I couldn’t let that happen. I went all out. I’m sorry I worried you,” he says. “As much as you can’t lose me, I can’t lose you.”
Finally, you go to him. You sit down beside him and put your arms around him, and he his around you. The tears that have been threatening to fall since Steve called you finally do, and to your surprise, you feel his tears on you as well.
”I’m not going anywhere,” you try to reassure him.
”Not if I have anything to do with it,” he says, earning a little laugh from you. Steve & Tony sense that you two have reached a peace and re-enter.
”I’m guessing he told you?” Steve asks. You nod. “Then it goes without saying you’re moving back here until we can neutralize the threat,” he says. You nod again.
”I’ll get your stuff in the morning,” Tony says.
”Thank you,” you say, leaning heavily into Bucky.
”You two go get some rest. You look like hell,” Steve says. You and Bucky both nod and get up, hand in hand, to go back to the rooms that used to be yours.
”But first, a shower,” you mention, realizing that now you’re dirty too.
”Fine,” Bucky sighs.
You’re so, so, so glad he’s okay.
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A New Addition
Bucky Barnes Drabble (150 follower celebration)
Thank you so much for 150 followers but also thank you for all your support!!!🎉🎉
Warnings: None, just pure fluff
Prompt: “well that’s definitely a cat.”
Word Count: 684
It had been raining non-stop for the past several days. The constant downpour outside had caused major flooding on the roads and even managed to creep into your apartment. Underlining the windows were several different tea towels and cloths, soaking up the water that had crept in. You had tried to persuade Bucky not to go out in this weather to try and fix the windows cause they weren’t that bad but he was having none of it. And what worried you more was that he took his motorcycle instead of the car; that only filled you with dread.
Bucky had only been gone for fifteen minutes but the rain was getting heavier and heavier the longer he drove. This caused him to have to take shelter in a nearby alley that was sheltered for this weather. He stood huddled next to a dumpster, not the most ideal shelter. His body was hunched over and head hung low, as he pulled his jacket tighter for more warmth. He hadn’t realised how long he had been standing there until he felt something nudge against his boot. His eyes tore open as he carefully glanced down to his feet, and there creeping in the shadows half under the dumpster was a very soggy and very dirty white cat. Bucky felt his heart squeeze when he looked at the animal, immediately wanting to coo and smother it with love. This prompted him to slowly crouch down on the floor, and patiently wait for the cat to make the next move.
It hadn’t even been five minutes and the cat had already crawled out from under the bin and made itself comfortable between Bucky's thighs. He cautiously scooped up the fluff ball in one hand and unzipped his jacket halfway with the other, smuggling the cat into his jacket, making sure it was secure and safe before zipping up his jacket and bracing himself for the rain.
What should have been a 15 minute round trip to the store turned into an hour, with him not even making it to the store, as Bucky pulled into his parking space. He knew that you wouldn’t really care about not getting the sealant for the windows but he didn’t know how you were going to react to his new companion. He turned the key and opened the apartment door, sliding in and rising off his boots. He slowly crept around the apartment, finding you huddled up on the sofa.
Your face lit up as soon as you saw him, rushing to greet him with a hug however, when you approached him, Bucky took a step back, one hand out in front of him and the other gently placed over his chest.
“You’re hiding something under there! What is it?” You branched forward, tugging his hands away as he desperately tried to ward you off. “It’s nothing!” Bucky's voice was high and cracked at the end. What followed also didn't help, Bucky's chest chirped with a meow, and your face struggled to fight off the smile that was forming. “You’ve got a cat haven’t you?” Your voice was kept calm and smooth as you managed to hook your fingers onto the zip of his jacket. Bucky, still being defensive and overprotective croaked out of soft “No it’s not.” Just as you managed to pull the zipper down.
There, huddled in Bucky's chest, was the most adorable and muddy white cat. The cat's fur was long but needed grooming, and it stared at you with bright blue orbs. You instantly melted at the sight and Bucky visibly relaxed.
“Well that’s definitely a cat.” You cooed as you smothered the cat with affection. “I was thinking of naming ‘em Alpine.” Bucky's voice was soft and when you looked up at him, your heart melted at the sight of Bucky looking so fondly and gooey at Alpine. “Alpine it it.” You stated before reaching up on your tiptoes and planting a small kiss on Bucky's lips. “Mm my two loves Alpine and y/n” Bucky mused as he took sight of his little family.
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baby, but you.
summary. | He hopes you can feel it, because nobody else can heal it but you. Baby, but you.
warnings. | smut, hate fucking (ish), enemies to lover, slight angst, birthdays, degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, yearning, crushing, riding, couch sex, breeding, possessiveness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI AND DO NOT REPOST MY STORIES.
word count. | 3.6k
pairings. | Bucky Barnes x Reader.
a/n. | happy birthday @asadmarveltrashbag ilysm!!! thank you so much for being there for me since like day one, for being such a good role model and for just being amazing. thank you so much for listening to me rant and giving me advice, i’m so grateful for you. i hope your birthday is amazing today, i love you so much!! don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know.
He stands afar from you. A cold, calculated stare that you’re almost tempted to challenge with your killer one. There are only about two and a half meters of space separating you two, and even that’s not enough. You’re like a cat and a dog, constantly fighting about God knows what. Sometimes it’s the stupidest of things; other times, it’s the most reasonable. Either he has the television on too loud, or you come home too late. The other neighbours… Well, frankly, they don’t live here anymore.
It’s because they can’t handle his screaming when he has nightmares. You scoffed when you first heard it from your landlord, finding it absolutely insane that nobody is used to the sounds of a nightmare. As if they’re any better. You handle it like a champion, simply just putting on earbuds and your favourite songs at the lowest volume until you fall asleep. You almost feel bad for him when you see him with deep bags under his eyes.
But one short, snarky remark from him has the sympathy in you draining. Almost like the way his hands are the palest colour ever, and his skin doesn’t have the redness it should have. Almost as if the colours on a painting have been scraped off. You shouldn’t be noticing these things, really, but you just can’t help it. He’s almost a shell of the man he once was, at least in his words, but you believe that with some care (not from your hands, ew), he’ll be back to normal.
He shouldn’t notice the way you sigh every time you get home. The way you drag yourself through the carpeted hallway, out from the metal box that Bucky doesn’t trust. He doesn’t charge anything that has to do with heights, so that’s why he’s settled for the second floor. The drop in his stomach brings back so many memories that he can’t bear to remember.
Sometimes, he picks up the rumble of your stomach that he knows you’re embarrassed about, only because when it happens, you become the most fearful sailor to ever cross the shore. You always arrive right before Bucky falls asleep, leaving him at peace. ...No, no, no. It’s not like that. He totally doesn’t wait up until you come home safely before he can actually fall asleep so he can have a sense of calm. No, that’s absurd. Another absurd thing is the ungodly hour that you arrive home.
“Listen, you’re the one who bumped into me, okay? Let’s just leave it at that,” you huff, swinging your keychain between your fingers. Your digits are so soft, only ever coarse when you touch the skin between them. His hands, however, are almost the opposite. They’re rough and dry, but the crevices are a bit damp with sweat from pure nervousness. “No, no, you bumped into me, and we’re going to leave it at that, okay? Okay,” he nods, even though he’s talking to you.
“No, you bumped into me, and that’s that. Goodbye, Mr. Barnes,” you finish, throwing your bag over your shoulder and stomping down the hallways. You don’t look back once, simply just strutting your way to that darned elevator that you loathe. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your arm and turns you around. “I didn’t say you could go; we’re not done until I say we’re done,” he growls, gripping your arm tight enough to have you whimpering.
“No, fuck you. I’m tired of constantly listening to you bitch and moan about things that aren’t even my fault. God, it’s like you’re twenty fucking years old with no maturity, it’s fucking pathetic,” you spit, trying to yank your arm away. But compared to a supersoldier, your strength is equal to a cool spring breeze hitting a concrete building—basically nothing. Bucky’s chest heaves, and for a moment, you’re scared.
But even though he has a temper, he could never hurt you. He’s not the Winter Soldier; you’re sure of it.
His jaw clenches, and you stare at him intensely. Work is long forgotten, just like the fact that today is your birthday. That nervous, jittery feeling that would pool in the pits of your soul isn’t there. You wonder if it’s because you’re all grown up now, or maybe it’s because you’ve been so busy that your birthday seems like any other day in your eyes. Your eyes fall to his lips, almost on instinct. They’re pink and plump, slightly damp from the wetness on his tongue.
He gently pushes you inside his home, and you stumble back in shock. “I have to go to work–” you start, but he cuts you off. “I don’t give a shit. I need to teach you a lesson,” he snaps, pulling off his leather jacket. It has blue hues to it, sometimes grey if shone under the correct lighting. It’s overall black, suiting that dark soul of his that some people claim he has. You keep your mouth shut, clutching onto the strap of your backpack that rests on your right shoulder.
Suddenly, that fiery haze of yours has faded out, and you just watch him dumbfounded. Your jaw is slightly slack, but your eyes aren’t bulging out. Bucky pulls off the unusual leather gloves that always seemed to be a little too big on him. The space between his fingers and the cloth is always too much, and you even contemplated ‘accidentally’ giving him a new, better-fitting pair.
They flop onto the floor with an almost laughable sound, but you know you shouldn’t even dare to crack a smile. “Always going on and on about something. You just need to be shut up for once, don’t you?” Bucky questions, snapping his head towards you. “N- No…” you whisper, looking down to the ground. Suddenly, you prefer looking at wood floors to handsome men such as Bucky.
“Oh… Right, I forgot. You don’t know what’s good for you, that’s why you go to work and come home so late in the night. Bet you don’t have any time to fuck around with those pathetic twenty-year-old douchebags. That’s why you touch that little pussy of yours before you head to work, right?” he questions, and you gulp thickly.
Did he really hear it all?
“Please, I heard the way you finger fuck yourself in the shower all the way here. You really need to learn how to properly lock your door. You’re lucky those old ladies were here when I heard you, or else I would’ve come all the way over there and taught you a real good lesson,” he snaps, and you genuinely feel like doubting every little thing you do. “And you know what’s so funny, doll? I even hear the way you moan my name when you’re about to come,” he whispers, standing so close to you, and you wonder how he even managed to get here.
Your faces are inches away, His warm breath fans against your skin, and Bucky can feel the nervousness seeping through your pores. “Need a refresher? Or are you just going to stay quiet?” he questions, raising his eyebrows. He has a stupid smile on his face, and you’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or slap him. Both seem very appealing, but God, that devil on your shoulder always did have a loud voice.
Your bag joins his gloves on the floor, and you tilt your head upwards to kiss him. Your lips slowly slot against his, the taste of stale coffee immediately fills your mouth as Bucky shoves his tongue past your lips. He cups the side on your face, and your hands remain bent in the air. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you place them on his shoulders, hoping for the best. He tenses up for a bit, and you start to pull away.
He doesn’t let you go too far. His hands keep you near him, and he stares into your eyes. Blue, blown-out orbs give Bucky an even darker look, and you’re practically sailing the same ship. “Don’t… Don’t go,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “I won’t, but-” you begin, but he cuts you off with an open-mouthed kiss. It’s so rough, so passionate. Teeth and tongues clash at each other, and you whimper against him as his hands move from your face.
They run down your body before gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. His front presses against yours, and you can feel his defined muscles through that black t-shirt of his. You wrap your arms around his neck, such a simple act and yet he’s swooning like the lovesick fool he is. No, no, no, he’s not lovesick, and he’s not swooning. He’s just wanting, and that is all, just like you are.
You roll your hips for friction, desperate for something. The faint feeling of Bucky’s hard cock sends shivers down your spine, and you just know he’s huge. He could probably split you in two if he really wants to, and maybe it’s what you want as well. God, just the mental image of his cock sliding in and out of you is so pleasurable. Wetness soaks your panties, and you moan into his mouth.
“Say ‘ah,’ slut,” he mumbles before pulling away from the kiss again. You quickly do so and watch as Bucky puckers his bruised, red lips. You’re not sure what to expect; a stupid, silly kiss or something else. Your tongue is stretched out inside your mouth, and you wait for him as your chest rises and falls. Your eyes watch him as he spits into your mouth, a wad of spit dripping onto your tongue and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.
You quickly swallow it as if it’s some sort of antidote to an incurable disease. “Oh, you’re such a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you? I bet you’d let me do anything to you, right? Let me fuck you silly, throw you around, treat you like the spoiled brat you are,” Bucky growls with a fierce smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face. Sculpted by the Gods themselves, you wonder why the world has been so mean to him.
No, no, no, you don’t. You’re just desperate and needy.
“You really are stupid, and I haven’t even touched that little pussy of yours yet, and you can’t even answer a simple li’l question,” Bucky says out loud, expressing pure shame and disgrace. You shake your head before placing your hands back on his hard, defined chest. There’s a specific spot on his chest where the fabric is too sheer. You can see the way his soft hair has been shaved down to a mere stubble, and you wonder what he’d look like if it was grown out.
“I- I’m a dirty girl, I’d let you do anything to me, James,” you whisper to him, looking up at him with unintentional doe eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” he smirks before pushing you backwards. You expect to collide with the wooden floors harshly and startle the downstairs residents, or maybe even on a carpet that would try to break your fall but would end up failing.
You don’t expect to fall back onto a soft, cushioned couch. It’s more so an armchair that is a greyish-blue colour, one that you’d see and Ikea and want so bad, but you’d quickly change your mind once you see the whopping price it’s set at. Bucky towers over you, and you tilt your head up, still watching has the features of his face twitch a bit. His hands run down to your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans before his nimble yet strong, thick fingers reach to the button and zipper.
He makes quick work of stripping your clothes off for you, and you try your hardest to do the same for him. But flying, clashing hands that are oh so desperate can’t really do much. So as he pulls your wet panties down your feet, you hurriedly kick them to the floor. Bucky pulls his shirt over his head, and you’re not sure if you’ve lost it or if time truly has slowed down. You’re able to memorize each freckle, each scar, each mole and each muscle of his upper body.
He’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Though everyone has their measly little flaws that can be so bothersome, in your eyes, he has no flaws. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he breathlessly tells you, making you struggle to fight the cheerful smile that forces its way onto your face. “You’re pretty too, James,” you tell him, reaching backwards to unclasp your bra.
Now, there’s nothing special about it, really. It’s plain black, and in some areas, it physically pains you, leaving branded marks behind that feel good when you gently run your hands over them. Nonetheless, you look gorgeous with it on. But when it’s on the floor, treated like nothing, you’re even more beautiful. Your slick has stained your inner thighs with stickiness, and your clit throbs with need.
Bucky parts your legs, watching as strings of wetness pull apart from each other. “Fucking hell, is that all because of me, slut? Say it, tell me who you’re so wet for,” he demands, and your breathing hitches. “S’all for you, James, I’m so wet because of you,” you whisper to him, and he smirks devilishly. You clench around nothing but air, desperate for his cock to be inside you. “I want you so bad, James, please fuck me,” you beg to him desperately, and he chuckles.
Bucky goes to start taking off his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper that sometimes gets caught onto the fabric of his boxers a little too much. The black fabric slips off his skin like an extra layer of skin, and the sight of his hard cock beneath his briefs is so sexy. You let out a shaky breath, and you can just see how fucking huge he is. Impossibly long with a thickness that’ll leave you limping for at least a week or two.
“You know what’s so fucking hilarious, baby? Just moments ago, you were cursing me out, fuming at me and calling me pathetic, but look at you; you’re the pathetic one here. Practically drooling for my cock, so needy as soon as I put my hands on you,” Bucky scoffs, and you know he’s so right. He pulls down his boxers, and you watch as his cock springs out, slapping his lower abdomen and near his pretty Adonis bone.
He roughly pulls you up and sits down on the couch before dragging you onto his lap. You straddle the sides of his thick thighs, and his big cock presses right next to your pussy, between your legs. Beads of precum drip down the shaft of his cock, and some of it even sticks to your skin. “You want my cock, baby? Well, go ahead, you can have it,” he tells you, resting his hands on your hips.
You exhale nervously, knowing that his cock is gonna stretch you out so much, it’ll be borderline painful and pleasurable. You lift your hips up a bit, and Bucky’s hand grasps the base of his cock. He’s sticky and pulsating, a raging red that is almost purple if you squint your eyes enough. He drags it from your swollen little pearl all the way down to your drooling hole. The mild friction is absolutely amazing, making you moan softly.
Bucky shudders as he slowly pushes the tip of his cock inside of you. He almost wants to tease you so badly, make you beg for it until you’re sobbing and going all ditzy for him. But he’s not all the mean, and he can’t possibly be so cruel to the birthday girl. In one swift motion, Bucky pulls you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you. You toss your head back and cry out as he stretches you painfully. The wet squelching pounds of your pussy are loud, but your moans are much louder.
He curses and bites down on his bottom lip, falling in love with the way your pussy hugs him tightly and the velvet feeling of your walls. No, no, no, he is not falling in love. He’s just desperate, that’s all. It takes you both a few seconds to adjust, and the painful stretch dulls down to immense pleasure. You struggle to control your breathing, though, because you’ve never taken anyone or anything as big and him. Months of wanting and needing him have finally come down to this, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
He hopes you can feel it because nobody can heal it but you. Every single day he thinks about you, and his heart hurts. His heart hurts when he watches you leave and come home, it hurts when you both fight, and it hurts when he believes you could never love him. His mind still tells him that, and yet here you are, riding his cock on your birthday. He notices the way your bottom lip wobbles a bit, and he pities you.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good. Ride my cock, birthday girl, I know you can do it,” Bucky praises with the most innocent smile ever. You nod your head and slowly begin to rock your hips, moving them up and down his cock. Bucky is torn; he doesn’t know whether he should stare at your pretty face or at where you’re both connected. Your slick coats his cock and leaves it glistening, and he watches as it disappears and reappears over and over.
His hand returns back onto your hips, and he gently guides you up and down his cock. Your pained whimpers soon turn to loud, slutty, desperate moans, and Bucky begins to fuck up into your cunt, meeting you at every thrust. “Fuck, yeah, that’s my good girl. Riding my cock so fucking good,” Bucky coos, and you can’t help but giggle. Warmth fills your chest, and pleasure blooms immensely in your core, and it’s the exact same for Bucky.
His balls slap against your ass, and his cock drives in and out of you. You ride him at a quicker pace, moaning loudly, and he nudges against your sweet spot. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock, baby. Could watch you forever an’ ever,” Bucky purrs, gripping your hips even tighter. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a destroyed fuse box. Everything is so sensitive, and the searing pleasure builds up inside the two of you.
Beads of sweat drip down your neck, and it is the same for Bucky. His skin shines just like his cock does, and the veins on the side of it throb with every movement. The wet noises and the sound of skin on skin fills the room almost impressively. The neighbours would’ve already filed noise complaints if they still lived here, but they don’t. So Bucky’ll fuck your brains out until you can’t make a sound.
“Fuck, you’re close, aren’t you? Can feel the way that nice little cunt is squeezin’ my cock,” he groans, staring up at you with his jaw slightly slacked. Your eyes have glazed over, and you stare at Bucky’s face. You ride him using his dick for all your needs and wants. It’s just like you’ve imagined, even down to the pleasure you’re feeling. “Mhm, gonna come all over your big cock,” you whimper at a specific thrust.
And he’s close too. Though the serum should make him last longer, your pussy just defies those rules. He fucks into you faster and rougher, and your legs have turned to jelly. You collapse onto his chest and let him pound your pussy into oblivion. Bucky’s chest rumbles with a chain of moan and curses, and you look up at him. His metal arm is icy cold, just like his eyes. But his orbs are darker than regular ice. They resemble black ice more than anything.
The elastic band in your stomach twists up tightly until it can’t do anything but snap. And so it does. The dam breaks, and you’re suddenly coming around Bucky’s cock. Your cum coats his cock and drips down his balls as your body seizes up. Your jaw falls open, and your eyes roll back while you moan loudly. “Fuck, you look so pretty when you come,” Bucky breathes, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck.
You cry out loudly as Bucky sloppily fucks you through your orgasm and chases his own. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, knock you up with my kids. Fuck, you’d look so hot with a bump, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of your body,” he moans deeply, feeling his balls tighten up. He tosses his head back and curses, hitting his release. Ropes of cum shoot inside your cunt, painting your walls and even leaking out a bit. Somewhere, deep down inside Bucky, he truly hopes it sticks.
He moans loudly as his hips give a few shallow thrusts, prolonging his orgasm. You both sigh, slick with sweat and other bodily fluids that neither of you cares about. “Happy birthday…” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “T- Thank you… How’d you know, though?” you question, even though his cock is still inside you. “Just did… Listen, I’m sorry–” he starts, but you cut him off. “Shh, I don’t care about anything but you, baby,” you tell him, whispering gently.
“Baby, but you.”
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I won’t turn down a drabble but instead of selecting a character/setting for you, I dare you to shuffle your playlist and write something based on the first song that pops up!! Also ily ❤️❤️
i did this in like 10 mins don’t @ me there ain’t even capitals but congrats thanks for shitposting and shaming me further about my diet coke habit here u go 💖
what you know - two door cinema club
when he looks at her, he sees fire—the burning remains of all his failures. and, for lack of a better word, it fucking sucks.
because she’s beautiful, y’know. like nothing he’s ever seen, no girl who can compare. bucky’s seen a lot of beautiful things in this life, and he’s seen a lot of ugly things, too, and god she’s like all the beautiful things and the ugly things combined and bucky thinks that must means she’s something dangerous.
and she is. she is because she’s everything and bucky is an artificial body, an artificial metal arm, and if he had enough brain matter left to count, it’d be artificial too. he’s nothing and she’s everything and she’s—
well. she’s sleeping in his bed, turned on her side and facing away from him, curve of her back and shadow of her spine so captivating he wonders if she was made just to torment him, and she’s gonna leave. it may not be tomorrow. it may not be the next day. might not even be this year. but she’s gonna get up and she’s gonna leave, that smile on her lips that dazzles the fuck outta him and, if he’s lucky, those stardust tears that he swears she could bottle up and sell as free wishes, and then she’ll walk out the door and never look back because bucky isn’t good enough.
bucky isn’t good.
he reaches out and runs the tip of his finger down her arm. he pulls back when her skin burns him like an open flame. he’s gasoline and she’s the match he struck on his own boot. she shivers, and like instinct, he takes the covers and pulls them over her bare torso.
later, he’ll turn over and grab his phone off the nightstand and google “what does it feel like to be in love with someone?”
and, before the night is over, he’ll google “what do i do when she leaves me?”
but he’ll erase it once the sun dawns through the window because she’ll stretch out in the spark of morning, kicking off the blankets he’s tried so hard all night to keep her warm under, and she’ll turn over and look up at him with that blinding fucking grin of hers that rivals the feeling he had when he was the winter soldier and he caught a glimpse of daylight from the cell of his own mind, and he’ll fall further into her depths until she drowns him.
bucky is sure she won’t rescue him. won’t even throw him a damn lifejacket. but it’s worth it. a captain always goes down with his ship or whatever. to have loved and lost is better than to have never loved at all or something. something. something.
it’s dangerous. something so beautiful and so ugly in one body. it’s dangerous to love someone like her.
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You’re finally letting sleep take over after a long day and trying to get comfortable next to Bucky who has been peacefully sleeping all this time. Your heavy eyes flutter closed and your body releases it’s tension allowing you to sink into the mattress. It’s then that you hear Bucky’s breath hitch and a pained groan rumbles in his chest. His body starts tossing and turning and you already know what’s happening. Sitting up, you gently touch his clammy body, your hand daintily resting on his chest.
“Bucky. Bucky baby, wake up,” you speak softly while rocking him.
His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as his nightmare takes hold of him. You stroke his face to try to wake him like you’ve done many times before and within seconds, Bucky springs up out of his sleep.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Look at me, baby. I’m here. You’re here. You’re safe,” you soothe.
Bucky’s eyes slowly focus on you as his breathing evens out. He leans into your hand cupping his face and turns to place a kiss on your inner wrist.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“I’ve already told you not to apologize. It’s okay.” You leave the bed to get a cool washcloth from the bathroom before returning. Patting at his face and neck, you ask, “Want me to get you some water?”
“No. I’m okay.” His eyes are on you as you take care of wiping the sheen of sweat from his skin. “Did I wake you?”
“I wasn’t sleeping. Couldn’t.”
Bucky stops your hands and brings them up to his lips. “We can help each other then. Come on.”
He takes the washcloth and sets it on his nightstand before pulling you close as he lays back down, his back to your front. You know what he wants, what soothes him after a nightmare. You curl into him, your arms wrapping around his torso, and nuzzle his back.
“I’m feeling better already.”
And that’s how you both fall asleep, wrapped up in each other’s warmth with your heartbeats in sync.
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sam said it was fine, but bucky still insisted on buying his own laundry detergent, casually observing the choices made by other shoppers before deciding on what to purchase.
there was nothing inherently wrong with it—it washed his clothes well, the scent was clean, and it was easy to distinguish between his flower-dotted blue bottle and the massive yellow jug used by sam.
however, one day, while bucky was out running errands for sarah, he got a strong whiff of something familiar—the scent triggering a simultaneous flutter in his chest and stomach. he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, brow furrowed, actively trying to find the source of the smell, much to the annoyance of the surrounding people.
it dawned on him after a few seconds of embarrassing confusion that the smell was coming from him—wafting up from his shirt thanks to the strong autumn breeze.
and the scent, the smell that evoked something akin to nostalgia, undeniably belonged to sam—the mix of salty ocean air and fresh cotton. the smell of his detergent.
maybe bucky accidentally grabbed sam's shirt instead of his own from the dryer before he left the house. maybe it was his shirt, but it had gotten mixed in with sam's clothing somehow. honestly, bucky cared little about the specifics.
all he knew was the comfort he felt wash over him as a result was more than enough of a reason to never buy his own detergent again.
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☼ my girls (dad!bucky au)
☼ the first time
☼ snow day (dad!bucky au)
☼ calm (dad!bucky au)
☼ i hate you
☼ broke me
☼ morning sickness (dad!torres au)
☼ a terrible santa (dad!torres au)
☼ soft for you
☼ you’re going to be ok (f!winter soldier reader au)
☼ protect you
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playing cupid (1/?)
when you get dumped by your boyfriend of two and a half years, you’re devastated. so, your friends decide to try and set you up on dates to find your perfect match. little did you know that your perfect man was right beside you all along.
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for your drabbles: do you think bucky would have a daddy kink and if so, would he be a soft daddy or a mean daddy?
Note: Fucking hell yeah he would. I think he would be mostly a soft daddy, showering you with praising and affection, until you messed up somehow. Thank you so much for this request, I love your mind bestie uwu
requests are still open for a few hours
You waved goodbye to your friends and got inside your building, tired after the all-nighter you pulled with them. As you climbed up the stairs to your apartment, you tried to turn on your phone once more - yeah, the battery was still dead. You fumbled with the keys for a moment, before successfully sliding them in and opening the door, relieved to finally be back home.
As you kicked your heels off your feet and locked the door again, you noticed a familiar jacket thrown over your couch. You knew it belonged to your boyfriend, Bucky. You gulped guiltily, a shiver sent down your spine as you realized how fucked up you were if he was waiting for you at your apartment.
“Bucky?” You called loud enough to be heard from any room. “You’re here, hun?” You tried again, looking through the kitchen, the bathroom, and finally walking over to your room.
There he was, arms folded over his chest, sitting on your bed with a death glare on his face. Yep, you were pretty much hopelessly fucked.
“Don’t hun me. Where the fuck have you been?” Bucky growled. He looked up and down at your deplorable state. Your hair was a mess, the makeup smudged enough to make you look like a teenage punk.
“I texted you, I was out with my friends and my phone died… We waited for the sunrise before getting the subway, and they walked me here.” As you spoke, you lowered your voice and looked at your feet. “I was just having fun, sir.”
“I can only imagine how fun it must have been to leave me worrying about your drunk ass like a fool.” His words made you gulp again, knowing you wouldn’t go unpunished.
Even if he had been worried sick about you overnight, you stood safe and sound in front of him - which meant he would scold you for breaking his rules. And you knew damn well how that would go down for you.
“Take your clothes off and come over here, babygirl.” He pointed his lap with the vibranium arm. You knew better than to argue. As you obeyed and stripped down, he continued with the preaching. “You know I’m always so good for you, that I do everything for you, that I take care of you. The only thing I ask in return is that you fucking behave.”
The way he cursed sent more shivers through your body, making you clench your thighs as you felt the wetness in your panties. He would see it in a second, as you slid the piece through your legs and left it on the floor. Bucky knew the effect of his anger on you.
“And see, I’m so forgiving that I had no problem with you going out with your friends when it should be our movie night. But you had to overstep, didn’t you? You just had to cross the limits. A fucking dead battery is no excuse.” He went on, eyes roaming your naked figure. As much as he desired you right then, you needed to be taught a lesson first.
You walked over to him, sitting on his lap and pressing your thighs together, trying to conceal your excitement. While your body betrayed you, your mind knew exactly what you had done and accepted that to Bucky, it was wrong.
“No. Bend over. You know what happens to girls who misbehave. Tell me, what do you need now, babygirl?” He quirked an eyebrow, still not touching you.
“I need…” You thought for a moment, turning around and getting settled over his lap, bare ass up and exposed for him. You knew exactly what he wanted to hear. You considered for a moment being a brat and making it harder for yourself, but you were too tired from the night out to put up a fight you were doomed to lose. “I need a good spanking to learn my lesson, daddy.”
You heard him scoffing, but couldn’t see the smug grin on his lips. He was proud that you knew how to please him, even though you had slipped last night. “Damn right you do. Count for daddy, okay?”
You nodded, the first slap coming down on your right ass cheek before you could even say “yes, sir”. You tried to hold back the whimper, letting it out only as you counted. “One…”
You wouldn’t know if you liked it more when Bucky was mean to you, or when he was soft. You just loved your daddy anyway.
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Can we have more vampire Bucky please, did he continue on with his breeding kink? Did they discover any new kinks after that?
I LOVE YOU FOR THINKING OF THIS. Okay, this is going to be a little bit different, but I loved talking about this so much!
You can read my vampire!Bucky story here.
I do think the breeding kink continued and expanded into a sort of roleplay since Bucky couldn’t really get you pregnant. You honestly didn’t mind, slowly becoming more focused on the creampie kink than anything else really, but hearing him whisper in your ear that he wanted you to make him a daddy would never cease to get you aroused.
A kink I believe they both shared even before Bucky discovered the breeding kink one is the use of restraints in bed. To him, there was nothing better than to have you completely at his mercy, unable to fight him - and seeing that you never even thought about doing just that. It was the trust that got to him, certainly. And you also got off on it, enjoying feeling his lustful gaze on your spread legs and being unable to cross them or squirm away from his stare.
I also believe he’s very much touch-starved so although he’d not a full-on exhibitionist and enjoys his privacy quite a lot, I believe he’s so into making out with you that most times he finds himself unable to stop a simple peck from becoming something more, regardless of where you are.
That’s how you end up giggling like crazy and trying to push him away from you while he pins you to the nearest wall of a club or a bakery, it didn’t really matter. His hands would find a way inside your sweater and he’d love to watch you whimper at the feeling of his cold digits on your warm tummy.
It obviously got much worse whenever he thought someone was hitting on you. Although he wasn’t really the jealous/possessive type, even he had his limits and the thing was - you were the one with a kink when it came to seeing him all threatening because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.
“I’m sorry for losing my mind, baby…” but he never got to finish because you had already pulled him by the collar of his shirt to meet your lips, swallowing his words.
“Just shut up and do me.”
And I believe the biggest kink he has is very obviously marking, in all of the different ways he can get to exercise it. The most logical one was his fang marks. He could very easily take them from you by giving you some of his blood, but very early in your relationship, you asked him not to do that.
“Why?” He was confused, even tense. He didn’t want to risk someone seeing it and associating it with him, somehow, but you just shrugged, running your fingers over it.
“I like to remember that you fed from me.” That’s how it started, but it developed into something so much deeper and he became truly insatiable. He’d enjoy rubbing the little blood that escaped those punctures against your skin before licking it off of you - he’d do something similar with his cum, too. And, of course, he learned how to suck bruises and leave lovebites besides the sucking marks he left on your skin.
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