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#bucky barnes ff
sab-draws · a day ago
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I didn’t ship them until that fateful Mackie interview but you know what? Doing it out of spite. They cute. So what.
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drysdale-barnes · a day ago
Hi congrats! For the sleepover I was thinking daddy! Bucky and little! Reader but the reader gets insecure about her body as she is plus size but bucky reassures her it’s okay? Maybe talks about his own problems with his arm?🥺💗
aww this is cute!!🥺😭 and thank you!💞
“hey, bubba.” bucky coos, kissing the top of your head as you play happily with your stuffies.
“hi, daddy!” you grin toothily up at him, holding your favourite stuffed rabbit out to show him. “bunny says hi.”
“well, hello bunny.” he chuckles. “you hungry, baby girl?”
“nah.” you dismiss his question immediately, turning away from his concerned gaze.
“baby...” he reaches his arms out to pick you up and you all but scream, scrambling away from him.
“woah woah woah. stop. what’s the matter?” he crouches down next to you, holding his arms out for you to crawl into; when you don’t, he becomes even more worried. you’re the cuddliest person he’s ever met. why will you not touch him?
“don’, daddy. ‘m too heavy.” you mumble, tears gathering in your eyes.
“bubs, what are you talking about? you’re perfect.” he reassures you, but you shake your head fervently.
“‘m not, daddy. ‘m gross. too big.” you cry, tears rolling down your cheeks and dripping off of your chin. bucky’s face softens and he wipes them away gently.
“baby, how could you say such things about yourself? you’re my gorgeous princess.” it breaks his heart to hear you say such awful things about yourself, especially because he thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever walk the earth.
“‘m so ugly, daddy. my legs an’ my tummy an’ my arms. all looks wrong. jus’ horrible.” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, letting you cry your little heart out to him.
“shh, bubba. i’ve got you.” he croons, smiling as your sobs cease and you peel your face away from his chest. “there she is. my pretty girl.”
“nuh uh, baby. you’re perfect. even if you think you’re not, i think you are. you’re so beautiful, and i love all of you. you don’t need to change, as long as you’re happy. it’s okay. alright?”
“m’kay, daddy.”
“look, baby.” he pulls away from you to lift the sleeve of his t-shirt up, revealing the scars around the base of his prosthetic arm. “i don’t like these very much, or my arm. and i used to hate it a lot. but you love it, don’t you? you don’t think any less of me because of it?”
“‘course not. lub all of you, ‘specially your arm, ‘cause it’s you.” you mumble, reaching out to hold onto his metal fingers, wrapping your own fingers around them.
“exactly, sweet girl. because you love what i don’t like about myself. and i love what you don’t like about yourself. because that’s all they are — insecurities. just because we feel like that doesn’t mean anyone else does. because everyone’s perfect as they are. especially you, my perfect baby.”
“i lub you, daddy. so much.”
“i love you too, baby.” he grins, pulling you into his lap. and this time, you let him.
“tank you.”
“you don’t need to thank me, bubs.” he kisses your forehead and you melt into his embrace, face planting into the crook of his neck as you seep up his warmth.
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buckysbrattybug · 2 days ago
Imagine the Winter Soldier being given a little to take care of when he’s not on a mission. She was kidnapped and taken to where he is. He brings her toys and stuffed animals when he returns from missions. She’s extremely little every time he comes home because she’s all alone.
little dove
summary: you’re winter’s little dove. and he’d do anything for you.
w/c: 1k
note: i had a brainwave with this one so i had to start writing it straight away hahah😭 i’ll have another part of the bucky and zemo series out very soon!! and another part of their angel💞
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The first thing that you remember are his eyes.
Those piercing blue eyes boring holes into your very soul; the rest of his face is obscured by a mask, and he stares down at you curiously, as though he’s never seen another living human before.
“Who a-are you?” you stutter through your tears and he cocks his head quizzically, as though he doesn’t have an answer to your question. As you begin to sob even harder, he scoops you up in his arms, sitting you in his lap and shushing you. For a so-called killing machine, he’s so gentle with you. He handles you as though you’re made of porcelain — as though you may break with a single touch.
He’s your only source of comfort, and you cling to him at all times. Except, of course, when he goes on missions. And then you’re left all alone.
You often cry when he’s not with you, because none of this makes sense without him. He’s your only person; he takes care of you and rocks you to sleep at night. He feeds and bathes and kisses you. And the longer he’s gone for, the less able you are to do those things by yourself. You lose the ability to do so much as string a coherent sentence together. You cry for him every waking hour that he’s away, trying your best to soothe yourself with stuffies, but it rarely works. You need him.
And that’s what you’re doing right now — cradling a stuffy in the corner of the cold, concrete cell, rocking back and forth in a desperate attempt to calm yourself.
By the time he returns, you’ve gone completely non-verbal, the only sounds you make being soft whimpers and whines.
“мой принцесса.” he coos quietly, holding his arms out for you; you immediately push yourself up on shaky legs, staggering into his waiting embrace and burying your face into his neck.
My princess.
He’d kill for you. He’d live for you and die for you and do anything in between. You’re the only one he cares about.
“Shhh.” he calms you, letting his unexpected warmth seep into your pores and settle in your bones, tranquility flooding your every nerve. He’s the only thing that can make your brain stop screaming.
“I got you something.” he whispers; he doesn’t often speak English, but he will for you. Because you find it hard to understand him in this small state of mind. You peel your face out of its hiding place to look at him curiously, and he pulls out a pink rabbit stuffy. The fur is soft to the touch and as he hands it to you, you hold it to your chest tightly, inhaling his scent from it.
“Tank you.” you mumble meekly, and he chuckles, carrying you to the hard bed and laying down with you draped across his chest.
“Dada…” you mutter quietly into the fabric of his suit, and he wraps his arms more tightly around you.
“мой маленький голубь.” My little dove.
You fall asleep like that, pressed against his chest with his arms around you, hands curled into his clothes in an attempt to mould yourself into him.
Every time he leaves you, you retreat back into yourself. No matter how many agents come to check on you or assist you when Winter’s gone, you don’t speak. You become a ball of anxiety and worry — anxiety that can’t be calmed until you’re back in your Daddy’s arms.
Generally, you’re so little by the time that he returns that you can barely stand or talk. When you catch sight of him, you cry. The feeling of being back with him is so euphoric that it’s unbearable. Overwhelming. You’re totally dependent on him, your whole being aching when you’re apart. He’s your rock and you’re his little dove.
When he returns from his next mission, you try to walk to him as he’s thrown back into the cell, but you’re so little that your legs give out and you crumple against the cold concrete. Soft sobs overtake your body and you collapse in on yourself, tears streaming down your plump cheeks.
“голубь.” he coos, scooping you into his embrace and holding you tightly as you wrap yourself around him, legs around his waist and arms around his neck, placing desperate kisses to the side of his face, saliva mixing with tears as they trickle first down your face and then his. His rough stubble scratches at your face but you can’t find it in yourself to care, pressing your face further into his as he hoists you up in his hold, carrying you to the bed and sitting you on his lap.
“‘m s-sorry.” you sob into the crook of his neck and he shushes you.
“You’re okay. Shh. Dada’s got you.” he croons, rocking you gently as you weep. You lift your head to look him in the eyes, pushing his hair out of his face and running your thumbs across his cheeks.
“Hi, маленький голубь.” Hi, little dove.
“Hi, Dada.” you giggle through your tears and his lips pull up into an almost smile. Your breath begins to return to normal, your ragged pants ceasing as you press your forehead against Winter’s.
“Clever girl.” he praises, tugging you further into his body.
“M-missed you.” you hiccup quietly and he chuckles. “I lub you.”
“I love you too, принцесса.” He taps his lips gently with his finger and you know what he’s asking immediately. You lean down, planting a kiss to them; he smiles into the kiss and traces his hands lightly down your sides, making you shiver. You whine softly, curving your body away from his hands.
The only time he smiles is when he’s with you. Nothing else makes sense in this life. No one else cares for him as you do; nothing else is worth living for.
His life may be confusing and miserable and painful, but at least he has you. And one day, you’ll get out.
Just him and his little dove.
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drysdale-barnes · 2 days ago
happy 1k sleepover!! may I please request a drabble where you and bucky throw a surprise party for steve or sam? I feel like it would be hilarious to try and plan a party with bucky!
thank you darling!! oh my god it would be absolutely hilarious to try and plan a party with bucky😭
“what are you doing?” you ask, absolutely exasperated with bucky; why can’t he just listen for once?
“uh, putting up the decorations?” bucky replies like it’s obvious and you put your head in your hands. “what?”
“we have to get the other stuff ready before we put up the decorations! it has to look right!”
“it looks fine. you’re being dramatic.” he rolls his eyes and turns his back on you, continuing to stick decorations up haphazardly.
“oh my fucking god. don’t kill him, don’t kill him.” you chant to yourself like a mantra as you continue wrapping presents, careful to not crumple the wrapping paper.
“i can hear you!”
“good!” you shout back. “you’re terrible at listening.”
when bucky turns on the chair he’s balancing on to give you a piece of his mind, he slips and falls straight into you, a scream escaping his lips; you groan on impact with his huge body, but after hearing the sound that he made, can’t help but giggle.
“oh my god, did you just scream?”
“no!” he huffs, pushing himself back up and away from you.
“you did!” you insist, cackling by this point. “you screamed like a little girl!”
“oh fuck off, y/n!” he crosses his arms over his chest and sulks, clearly offended by your statement.
“buck, i’m just kidding, don’t be like that!” you laugh, turning back to wrapping presents.
“don’t be like what?”
“don’t be so sensitive, baby. i’m kidding.” you coo, folding the last of the wrapping paper away as you begin stacking the presents.
“don’t call me that.” he grumbles and you quirk an eyebrow at him.
“why not, baby?” you turn towards him, stalking to him like a predator; panic is clearly evident on his face and he gulps, shrinking in on himself. he’s clearly not used to this amount of attention or affection. “hm, what’s the matter, baby?”
“stop!” he whines and you smile, kissing his cheek before finally turning away.
“come on! now we need to put the decorations up, and you’ve done them all wonky!”
“i have not!” he defends, pouting like a child.
“let’s just get on with it before Steve gets here.” you tug at Bucky’s arm, pushing him back up towards the chair he was balancing on and perching on it behind him.
in the end, you did manage to get it all ready in time, with a lot of bickering (and a lot of you riling Bucky up).
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buckleup25k · 2 days ago
mullet papa 🍼
(bucky barnes x reader)
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You are trying to get into a new college but unfortunately, you don't have enough money. You find out through a friend that you can get paid around $25,000 to be a surrogate mother. It doesn't seem like such a bad idea. But somehow the sperm vials get switched and there are a lot of people depending on the baby you are carrying.
Chapter 1 - The Beginning
word count - 739
“So basically she is being paid $25,000 for bearing some couple’s bastard offspring,” my sister Michelle explains to me.
“First of all, surrogacy is a bit more complicated than that. But second of all, it sounds kinda” you drown off “Why am I actually thinking about surrogacy.” MJ looks at me. “You're kidding me Aunt Y/N.” She eyes me with a judging smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for a date with ‘he who shall not be named’?” “Peter’s always late.” “Uh Huh,” Michelle and I say in unison. The doorbell rings. MJ immediately jumps up. “Shit, I’m not ready.” MJ starts to freak out “What did I say? I told you that you should get ready.” I say with a know-it-all tone. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” “I got it alright? I will answer the door and invite him into the kitchen and you can get ready” “YOU CAN’T FUCKING ANSWER THE DOOR. You need to help me get ready. I don’t even know what to wear.” “Fine. Michelle will open the door.” “MUM, IF YOU FUCKING DRILL HIM WITH QUESTIONS I WILL KILL YOU.” “Language and I won’t!!!! I swear,” She says but I know that she will. I follow MJ up to her room which is covered roof to floor with feminist signs and ACAB posters. When I look to her bed I see Tesse their dog sitting on a pile of clothes, her bright blue eyes staring into my soul. “What is this?” I saw motioning to the mountain “I don’t know what to fucking wear.” “What about this?” I say as I pull out a sparkly silver dress. “I can’t wear that. I don’t wanna look like fucking disco ball.” “How about this?” I take an Inhaler band tee holding up a dark wash high waisted pair of jeans and spot a classic pair of Converse in the corner of her room. Her eyes settle on the shoes and instantly agree. “Peter will love this!” She says while tying her hair up in a messy bun.”Y/N THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.” She holds up a heart symbol with her hands. I flip her off. She cackles as I leave the room. I walk downstairs to see my sister asking Peter what his intentions are with MJ. I get there in time to stop her from freaking this poor child out. “Okay… Peter, what is your favourite subject...” “Oh, it must be maths and science right. I can tell from your physics shirt. You don’t get an internship at Stark industries for nothing right.” I gasp, holding my mouth. I wasn’t supposed to know that one. “Shut up Michelle. I’m trying to have a nice conversation with the kid.” “Anyway, I think it’s time for you kiddos to go.” “MJ hasn’t come down yet,” Peter says with an awkward smile. “I’m here now,” MJ says from the staircase. We all walk towards it. Peter with a spring in his step. “Wow. MJ you look… wow...” “You don’t look too bad yourself.” She says bashfully. Peter smiles and takes MJ in a tight embrace. Young love. Fuck my life. I want to be young and in love. But I'm old and the last relationship was 6 months ago which left me depressed and codependent on my sister. “Get out of here you two,” I say, gritting my teeth with internal pain.
The door shuts behind them, instantly restarting my sister's complaints about overpaid pregnancy. “You're whoring yourself out and you don’t even know the guy!” “Yeah, but it’s 25k, you know how expensive literature studies are!” “You’re doing feminist literature, how expensive can it be?” “It’s like $10,230 and I don’t have that kinda cash lying around.” “25k is a lot more than 10k. Surely there is some other kind of thing you could do to get money.” “It’s a FUCKING pandemic, it’s either get a sugar daddy or get a child.” “And what are you gonna do when you give birth? Just give the child away. That is the fruit of your loins.” “First of all don’t say the fruit of your loins I fucking hate that. And second of all, I can see the child if I wanna see the child and I don’t. So can you just support me?” “It might take me a while? But I’ll try.” “Thank you, Michelle. I love you.” “Haha, okay.”
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buck-buck-boose · 3 days ago
I’ll Love You ‘Til I Die
A Mini-Series
Summary: In which Lottie Green makes a vow to James Buchanan Barnes in her childhood. Against all odds, she kept that vow.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 1.7k
Author’s Note: Here’s another chapter, lmk what you think :)
Chapter Two: A Visit
During the remaining weeks of summer, Lottie took it upon herself to continue delivering freshly laundered and mended clothes to the Barnes family. Lottie tried not to linger in the tenement, but Mrs. Barnes would often invite her in for a cup of iced tea before she could duck out; it was often a weak cup, but it was tea nonetheless.
“So Lottie, tell me, what grade will you be in this year?” Mrs. Barnes inquired over the rim of her cup. It had a chip in the handle and no saucer to match it, though Lottie adored the pink floral pattern that graced its side.
“I’ll be in fifth grade, ma’am. Though I’m a bit younger than the others; I turn ten on August 25th.” Lottie puffed out her chest proudly; excited to be approaching the double digits in age. She knew that she would receive nothing for her birthday, but she didn’t mind. She’d rather have food on the table every day of the week than a new dress or shoes that she’d probably ruin in a week flat.
“Oh, only five days away,” Mrs. Barnes hummed, “what do you plan on doing to celebrate? It’s quite an important age.”
Lottie tilted her head in thought, scuffing her shoes along the floorboards as swung her legs, “I dunno, I—“ Before she could form her answer, the door to the apartment burst open, revealing a rather disheveled looking Bucky, who had the arm of a wheezing blonde boy thrown over his shoulders.
“Ma! We were in the lot around the corner playin’ ball and Steve started having one of his attacks again!” The larger boy moved to guide his friend to the sofa across the room while Mrs. Barnes quickly rose from her chair, taking the blonde’s— Steve’s —other arm, to help her son.
Lottie quietly observed, a crease forming in her brow. She didn’t know the boy, but she vaguely recognized him; he was the boy usually left to sit aside during the neighborhood baseball games. He was at least a head shorter than his gangly counterpart; really, he was closer to her in height than he was to Bucky. His hair clung to his pale forehead, while his flushed cheeks puffed in and out in an attempt to control his breathing.
Mrs. Barnes turned to her, “Lottie dear, would you wet a rag for Stevie while we try to calm him down?”
Lottie nodded, leaving her chair to rifle through the kitchen drawers for a rag. Once she’d acquired one, she ran it under the faucet and soaked it in cold water. She brought the rag over the sofa, kneeling down so that she could press it to his sweaty forehead.
“C’mon Steve, let’s do those breathing exercises your doc gave you, just breathe deeply like me,” Bucky instructed, taking exaggerated deep breaths for Steve to copy. Once the two had been at it for a few minutes, Steve managed to control his breathing again.
“Oh, and this right here is Little Lottie, the best damn laundry deliverer in Brooklyn,” Bucky added, nodding in her direction. In any other situation, Lottie would’ve been at least a little annoyed with the nickname she’d earned, but with Bucky, she didn’t mind. She took a sort of pleasure in it, knowing that he thought she was special enough to deserve her own nickname. She relished the way he said “Little Lottie” in an almost sing-song voice; as if the nickname was a lyric to a song that he couldn’t quite place.
Mrs. Barnes smacked him upside the head and scowled teasingly, “I don’t know where you learned that language, but you certainly shouldn’t be using it in front of your mother and a young lady.”
Bucky held his hands up in mock surrender, but a smirk never left his face, “Alright, alright Ma, I’ll never do it again. Cross my heart,” and he made a show of solemnly drawing an imaginary “X” over his chest with his finger.
Steve barked out a laugh from the sofa, “I’ll watch out for him Mrs. Barnes, make sure he acts real saint-like around young ladies like Lottie over here,” he then met her gaze with an easy smile, “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”
“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Lottie grinned, “Now how’d you end up having one of these attacks in the first place?”
“Well as you heard, we were playing ball in that lot around the corner, and Buck here tried to show off for this little redhead Delores— but he calls her Dot —and long story short, I was the sucker that had to run for the ball when he hit a home run,” Steve explained, giving Bucky a lighthearted glare. Lottie’s heart sank and her stomach twisted at the mention of this “little redhead.” It seemed that she wasn’t the only girl in his life who was special enough to deserve a nickname. It sent her mind racing— how did he say her name? Did he drawl the nickname all slow like he was trying to savor the taste of it? Her eyes were probably a pretty green or blue, to complement her fiery hair. She probably had Mary Janes that fit just right and a dress that didn’t show off knobby little knees.
Lottie was shaken out of her stupor by Bucky nudging her with his foot, as he was standing next to the sofa where Steve lay, and she was still kneeling next to the sofa even though the wet rag she had used for Steve lay limp in her hands. “Little Lottie, Steve here asked if you’ve ever come to watch us play ball. A lotta the girls from school like to come watch,” Bucky said, staring down at her.
She shook her head, “No, my Ma hasn’t let me go that far away from home on my own yet. She’s probably nervous about all the rowdy older kids there.” Mrs. Barnes laughed at that, “As if my Bucky is any better than the ‘rowdy older kids.’”
Lottie shrugged; even her own Ma knew that Bucky had a good head on his shoulders. Most boys his age would tease her on the schoolyard, they were never as kind as Bucky. Her thoughts drifted briefly to her lucky penny tucked into the pocket of her dress and the borrowed handkerchief stored in her beginners’ sewing kit; she’d begged her mother to teach her how to embroider so she could decorate the handkerchief as a show of thanks for his kindness.
“Well you should come to the next game on Saturday, and your Ma won’t have to worry, you’ll be escorted by yours truly,” Bucky offered.
During the remaining weeks of summer, Lottie took it upon herself to continue delivering freshly laundered and mended clothes to the Barnes family. Lottie tried not to linger in the tenement, but Mrs. Barnes would often invite her in for a cup of iced tea before she could duck out; it was often a weak cup, but it was tea nonetheless.
“So Lottie, tell me, what grade will you be in this year?” Mrs. Barnes inquired over the rim of her cup. It had a chip in the handle and no saucer to match it, though Lottie adored the pink floral pattern that graced its side.
“I’ll be in fifth grade, ma’am. Though I’m a bit younger than the others; I turn ten on August 25th.” Lottie puffed out her chest proudly; excited to be approaching the double digits in age. She knew that she would receive nothing for her birthday, but she didn’t mind. She’d rather have food on the table every day of the week than a new dress or shoes that she’d probably ruin in a week flat.
“Oh, only five days away,” Mrs. Barnes hummed, “what do you plan on doing to celebrate? It’s quite an important age.”
Lottie tilted her head in thought, scuffing her shoes along the floorboards as swung her legs, “I dunno, I—“ Before she could form her answer, the door to the apartment burst open, revealing a rather disheveled looking Bucky, who had the arm of a wheezing blonde boy thrown over his shoulders.
“Ma! We were in the lot around the corner playin’ ball and Steve started having one of his attacks again!” The larger boy moved to guide his friend to the sofa across the room while Mrs. Barnes quickly rose from her chair, taking the blonde’s— Steve’s —other arm, to help her son.
Lottie quietly observed, a crease forming in her brow. She didn’t know the boy, but she vaguely recognized him; he was the boy usually left to sit aside during the neighborhood baseball games. He was at least a head shorter than his gangly counterpart; really, he was closer to her in height than he was to Bucky. His hair clung to his pale forehead, while his flushed cheeks puffed in and out in an attempt to control his breathing.
Mrs. Barnes turned to her, “Lottie dear, would you wet a rag for Stevie while we try to calm him down?”
Lottie nodded, leaving her chair to rifle through the kitchen drawers for a rag. Once she’d acquired one, she ran it under the faucet and soaked it in cold water. She brought the rag over the sofa, kneeling down so that she could press it to his sweaty forehead.
“C’mon Steve, let’s do those breathing exercises your doc gave you, just breathe deeply like me,” Bucky instructed, taking exaggerated deep breaths for Steve to copy. Once the two had been at it for a few minutes, Steve managed to control his breathing again.
“Oh, and this right here is Little Lottie, the best damn laundry deliverer in Brooklyn,” Bucky added, nodding in her direction. In any other situation, Lottie would’ve been at least a little annoyed with the nickname she’d earned, but with Bucky, she didn’t mind. She took a sort of pleasure in it, knowing that he thought she was special enough to deserve her own nickname. She relished the way he said “Little Lottie” in an almost sing-song voice; as if the nickname was a lyric to a song that he couldn’t quite place.
Mrs. Barnes smacked him upside the head and scowled teasingly, “I don’t know where you learned that language, but you certainly shouldn’t be using it in front of your mother and a young lady.”
Bucky held his hands up in mock surrender, but a smirk never left his face, “Alright, alright Ma, I’ll never do it again. Cross my heart,” and he made a show of solemnly drawing an imaginary “X” over his chest with his finger.
Steve barked out a laugh from the sofa, “I’ll watch out for him Mrs. Barnes, make sure he acts real saint-like around young ladies like Lottie over here,” he then met her gaze with an easy smile, “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”
“Nice to meet you, Steve,” Lottie grinned, “Now how’d you end up having one of these attacks in the first place?”
“Well as you heard, we were playing ball in that lot around the corner, and Buck here tried to show off for this little redhead Delores— but he calls her Dot —and long story short, I was the sucker that had to run for the ball when he hit a home run,” Steve explained, giving Bucky a lighthearted glare. Lottie’s heart sank and her stomach twisted at the mention of this “little redhead.” It seemed that she wasn’t the only girl in his life who was special enough to deserve a nickname. It sent her mind racing— how did he say her name? Did he drawl the nickname all slow like he was trying to savor the taste of it? Her eyes were probably a pretty green or blue, to complement her fiery hair. She probably had Mary Janes that fit just right and a dress that didn’t show off knobby little knees.
Lottie was shaken out of her stupor by Bucky nudging her with his foot, as he was standing next to the sofa where Steve lay, and she was still kneeling next to the sofa even though the wet rag she had used for Steve lay limp in her hands. “Little Lottie, Steve here asked if you’ve ever come to watch us play ball. A lotta the girls from school like to come watch,” Bucky said, staring down at her.
She shook her head, “No, my Ma hasn’t let me go that far away from home on my own yet. She’s probably nervous about all the rowdy older kids there.” Mrs. Barnes laughed at that, “As if my Bucky is any better than the ‘rowdy older kids.’”
Lottie shrugged; even her own Ma knew that Bucky had a good head on his shoulders. Most boys his age would tease her on the schoolyard, they were never as kind as Bucky. Her thoughts drifted briefly to her lucky penny tucked into the pocket of her dress and the borrowed handkerchief stored in her beginners’ sewing kit; she’d begged her mother to teach her how to embroider so she could decorate the handkerchief as a show of thanks for his kindness.
“Well you should come to the next game on Saturday, and your Ma won’t have to worry, you’ll be escorted by yours truly,” Bucky offered.
Mrs. Barnes interrupted the conversation, shooting Bucky a pointed look, “Actually, Saturday is Lottie’s tenth birthday! She’ll want to spend the day with her family, I’m sure.”
“Well when you say it like that Ma, let’s ditch the game altogether!” Bucky looked at Lottie, “Whaddya say to a day out at Coney Island with me and Steve? All special for your birthday.”
“Well rollercoasters and the beach sound an awful lot more exciting than a ball game. My Ma and Pa won’t miss me too much if I go out for my birthday, I’ll just make sure I’m home in time for supper,” Lottie said, accepting Bucky’s generous offer with a grin. She didn’t know Steve too well, but she knew if Bucky cared for him so deeply, he was a boy worth getting to know.
“I guess it’s settled then. Now Bucky, Steve, I’ll put the kettle on for when the two of you would like some tea. I left the teabag that Lottie and I used on her saucer,” Mrs. Barnes said, gesturing at the cracked porcelain saucer that held the reused teabag.
Lottie spent the rest of the afternoon with Bucky and Steve, she sipping on her watered down iced tea from earlier in the day, and the boys drinking their fresher drinks.
She learned a lot about the boys in those few hours; Steve’s passion and skill at art and Bucky’s love of film musicals— that fact made her giggle while he defended himself.
“I don’t care what you think Steve, Eddie Cantor was aces in Whoopee! ”
“I never said he was bad, I’m just sayin’ no one can take a guy seriously when he’s dancin’ around and singin’ like that, Buck.”
“I’m really keen on that song, ‘My Baby Just Cares For Me.’ When Eddie sang it, it was so charming and romantic.”
“Thank you, Little Lottie, glad to know you’re not bumping gums like Stevie over here. We’ve got a taste for the finer things, you and I.”
When the sun began to dip below the horizon, Lottie knew that it was time to go home for supper. She thanked Mrs. Barnes, who was handling a distressed Becca, for her hospitality and bid farewell to the boys. She skipped down the stone steps of the tenement, scraps of sketch paper in hand— the boys had attempted to teach her how to draw with charcoal like they’d been doing in their accelerated art classes during the last school year. She would never be quite as good as them, but something inside of her warmed at the memory of Bucky looking over her shoulder to see what she was drawing.
Tucked between the scraps of paper was a drawing that Bucky had done while Steve was teaching her shading concepts— it was a picture of her and Steve, both sitting on the floor, using a low coffee table as a desk to draw on. Bucky had gotten the shading on Steve’s golden hair just right; his strands reflecting some sun, while her mousey curls hung around her face. Bucky had taken extra care in creating the curls, as they were no doubt difficult to recreate on paper. She giggled at the shape of the nose he’d given her— he needed to do some work on drawing facial anatomy. Looking closer, it seemed that the coffee table in front of her and Steve was in no way proportional to their bodies, making them look like giants compared to the furniture. Regardless, she loved the picture, especially the loopy signature at the bottom of it.
That night, Lottie placed the sketches on her dresser, right next to a mason jar, where she placed her lucky penny. She surveyed her most prized possessions with a look of fondness and sighed happily,
“James Buchanan Barnes, I’ll love you ‘til I die.”
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griff-us · 4 days ago
Black Out Days
Pairing: James Bucky Barnes/ Original Female Character. important Tags/Genre: AU-canon divergent, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Relationship, Depictions of Violence, Fluff, Angst.
Summary: He is decommissioned; more out of a personal choice than from outside pressure. James wants nothing more than to live simply---considering the over complications and trauma of his one hundred and six years of existence. So, he leaves New York and settles in a small town off the coast of Maine.
And that’s when he meets her. An odd little bartender by the name of Honey. And that's when his life once again faces complications.
Authors Notes: This is entirely self-indulgent i have no excuses. Takes place just before The Falcon and the Winter Solider and throughout it, though with obvious canon divergence. This is just the first chapter is what I plan to be a pretty long project with a themed Spotify playlist in the works.
I don't heavily edit bc I'm lazy, and the chapters following should be much longer than this one. I plan to update every Sunday. Hope yall enjoy it!
Also posted on my AO3
Feels like I'm standing on the outside Looking in And I know this body's not mine To begin with I wish that I could crawl out My skin And see the world
-- This Body Means Nothing to Me, Shrimp
Tires grip well to the roads despite the slick left from the morning's showers; James takes each turn carefully, only pushing so far as he creeps past the posted speed limits. The roadway winds around hills, and through thickets of massive trees--the kind of ones that stand so tall the tops are hidden behind thick quells of fog. It’s all so different from the city---so quiet, so rural, so far away from, well, everything.
It’s odd, so odd in fact that the man has had issues with occupying himself ever since he had arrived in town. Thank God for his neighbor, an old man that told him of the happening downtown life in the city only fifteen minutes away. “Good live music, beer, and pool.” That's what the man had said.
James can’t help but laugh now as he pulls into downtown. A city? Nestled in the middle of almost nowhere off the coast, this city was a measly strip of road stacked with a few shops, dive bars, and tourist attractions that he was more than sure hadn’t seen any revenue in more than a few decades. But it was nice, quaint. It would do.
James parks right on main street, the engine of his bike hissing, and ticking while he shuts her down and eases off his seat. Gloved fingers work the straps of his helmet and he sets it down while eyes scan his surroundings---not that there was much to be found. Just as he expected, two dive bars, a grocery store, a college bar, and long since closed shops. Lamp posts dot the street every few feet or so, and the roads are paved well with added bike lanes, and parking.
Beyond that, apartments, and houses. That’s when he spots it: a single door settled against heavy brick with an old school glowing neon sign---like an old school dinner. 84 Dive. Legs take him there without a second thought, and before he knows it, the old wooden door is slamming behind him, shaking its frame and rattling the metal push bar that sits in the middle. James is met with a flight of stairs, and he takes them one at a time, admiring the layers of stickers and posters that line the overhead.
A soft tune hits his ears, something he doesn’t recognize at all but that Peter had told him was something called pop-punk---whatever the hell that was, and the heavy scent of...Guinness?
“Hey, hon.” James almost misses the greeting, so caught up in surveying his surroundings. But the sound of someone clearing their throat diverts his attention, and he looks to find a tiny thing of a woman standing behind the bar.
“Uh hi.” his tone is sheepish, and the woman grins while an open palm motions to one of the many empty seats at the bar.
“What are you having?”
“Any kinda pilsner is fine,” James responds instantly, creeping closer to sweep a stool out from the bar's overhang. The woman nods, and turns to the taps, spinning a pint glass in the center of her palm before pouring him a glass. He watches intently as her frame glides from place to place behind the bar, as though she could do so with her eyes closed. When she turns to place the beer before him, he flushes, caught off guard by the intensity within her eyes. Two orbs stare back at him, shimmering and practically filled to the brim with honey.
“Have a shot?” her question catches him off guard yet again, and he fumbles the response before finally finding his voice.
“Want a shot? You look like you could use one.” without waiting for his answer she produces two shot glasses and turns to snag a bottle of Jack Daniels from the liquor stands. She pours them both one, and a single gloved hand snakes out to take his own. With a simple and muted toast, they both toss their drinks back. She doesn’t flinch; his lips twitch in the faintest of smirks.
“You new?” elbows lean against the bar top, pointed chin nestled between both of her hands, as though she were bored out of her mind---or simply tired.
“Yeah, I moved in last week. Name’s James.”
Full lips split into a wide smile, and the woman thrusts her hand out with enough enthusiasm to nearly startle him.
“Honey.” his brow quirks, and he takes her hand, nervousness melting away.
“Are we that close already?” Her eyes roll.
“No, ass. That’s my name. Honey.” her fingers squeeze his, and he returns the gesture in kind---she’s got a good handshake, that's for sure. “So what brings you to this boring little town, you look more like the city type.” He returns to his drink, an easy shrug rolling off broad shoulders; the leather jacket that clung to him squeaking slightly.
“Needed a change of scenery.” eyes fall to trace the many etches settled within the wood of the bar top; a few names, a few vulgar words, and many many phallic shapes. James can feel her eyes on him, and he would be a liar to say it didn’t make him uncomfortable---as though she were breaking him down to figure him out. But, he doesn’t grant her the satisfaction of looking up. A beat of silence passes, then another, and another until finally:
“I thought you’d be taller.”
Blue hues cut high, brows taught, and jaw tight. Honey looks at him with a satisfied smirk on her face, and he can make out the dimple that hides in the depths of her round cheeks when he does.
“What do you mean?” James asks after a moment, and the woman chuckles. Arms folded across her chest, hand batting back a cluster of long slim braids that had fallen in her face.
“Random stranger who screams New York moves to a tiny town off the coast of Maine; looks broody, and needs a change of scenery. Iduno. I just kinda figured. Not to mention your face was plastered all over the news for a while there.” Honey pauses. “I like the haircut by the way.”
For the first time in decades, he’s baffled. What a strange, acute, and aloof woman. It’s unnerving, but---fun.
“No problem, hope you like our crazy little town.” she smiles again but this one is far more genuine, even as the tanned skin around her eyes crinkle just slightly. Just then, the door slams and a few pairs of booted feet make their descent down the stairs. “Well, James, let me know if you need anything.” and like that, she’s off to help the gaggle of new patrons that had just walked in. They hoop and holler--clearly having already hit the few bars before this one.
James watches while they all greet her warmly; with kind smiles and flirtatious quips. Honey takes it all in stride and dishes out their drinks, stopping only to joke and laugh along with them. Fingers tap against the glass of his pint, amused by the odd little woman and the quirkiness of it all.
And when he leaves, a crisp ten-dollar bill deposited on the bar top, he rides back home with honey on his mind.
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starshipsofstarlord · 4 days ago
Hi love 💕 let's get started)
1. Body swap with Bucky
𝑊ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢?
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Summary: based on the request
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: smut, the roles are reversed, body switch, experimentation in the bedroom, unprotected sex
Word Count: 3143
Masterlist Link
A mission gone wrong, that was often what people would describe it as. The gas had hit you, hurtling you into a perfusion of bleak senses and lack of sight, as well as your partner on the mission; James Buchanan Barnes. There were many things that you could say about the man, many that contradicted against the opinions of the team. Most people saw him as a hunk of agitation, wanting nothing more than to evade any possible scenario where he would be condoned to socialised, yet you knew him to be completely different. At first, he had taken time to warm up to the other members, however, now, despite often growing annoyed in their presences, he saw them as a family.
It was a relief to experience him growing more open with people day by day, but the turn of things had certainly opened him up to a whole new experience with you. The two of you had been together for a while now, which may have made you biased in concerns of whom you were going to exhibit your want to part and endure a mission with. That attitude had gotten you in quite the predicament when you found yourself laid in a hospital bed, the strangest part was, that your head was turned to the side as you viewed your resting self. "What the..." Looking down at your hands, as though they could supply an answer, they indeed did.
One hand attached to the form that you were locked in was large and masculine, and familiar, you had often found it wringing away in the domain of your underwear, fiddling away with all the treasures that were prized between your tender lips. It belonged to Bucky, the other that you found attached to yourself was made of vibranium, sleek with the efficiency in colour of gold and black, crafted in a country that was intellectually ahead of all others. You were worried, you were in Bucky's body, rather than your own. It was a strange turn of event, collateral from the mission that you had been sent on.
If you were to assume correctly, you'd take a guess that it were Bucky encased in your body, from the heart monitor beside the other bed, the rate in which your actual heart thumped seemed to be going fine. You wondered how long it would take him, if it were he in your form, and if he were fine. He would surely panic once he realised that the pair of you had switched due to a mission failure, he'd run his mind through all the possible scenarios of fixing the problematic predicament that the pair of you had literally breathed in. And whilst that would be somewhat amusing to see him worry in your body, lacking his super strength to aid in his appalled destruction, it was not worth the stress.
"Bucky." You called out to him, a masculine tone fortifying the name that slithered off your tongue. It felt strange, he hardly ever said it himself, unless he was introducing himself to a stranger, which was often something that he hated doing. The sound that exhibited you had drawn some attention, for a doctor entered the room, clipboard in hand, as she came closer and checked your, well Bucky's, vitals. Everything on the outside appeared fine, and whilst it may have been healthy, things were misplaced. Doctor Cho was one person that you confide in, she was used to some weird shit.
"Mr Barnes." She tried to draw your attention, but instead of the eyes that you were borrowing flickering up to her, your own that your partner was seeing through snapped open, as he sat up, frowning at the sight of himself propped up in a medical cot. "How are you feeling?" She asked you, unaware of the image of your awakening that was unfolding behind her. You ran the flesh hand through Bucky's locks, gulping inwardly. The mission being enough of a failure was a weight all on its own, much less so with the additional cost of personal baggage that had veiled itself around two team members.
"I'm not Bucky." You informed her, watching as a scorned look of confusion crossed her face, and she took notes to your reaction. Cho must have thought that Bucky had hit his head, and whilst yes, there were some affects that had taken prime condition over his body, they were not the average, normal kind. It was certainly something more than a headache and bruised ego. "It's me y/n." You told her, to which she swivelled around to look at your outline, to which Bucky smiled through, making it rather obvious that it was he that was dressed in your skin. "God don't do that smile in my body, that looks fucking terrible."
"Don't talk about yourself,- or well, me like that." He defended the pair of you, it being weird to hear your own voice from another perspective. Was that really what you sounded like? "But how do we fix this, I'm getting back ache, and I thought that was one thing I'd have to age into, despite being over one hundred." That's what it's like to have boobs, you thought, feeling a little triumphant with the fact that he had to deal with your everyday struggle. Cho sighed at the pair of you, finally giving up on analysing the situation. She put the pen against the board and held it against her chest, flitting her eyes between the pair of you.
"Stay here, I'm going to speak with my supervisor and Fury concerning this. Do not go anywhere, we may have to send people out to the site that you were both found at." She left, making a smirk riddle onto your lips, that were controlled by your boyfriend. He stood, feeling the difference in height, as he ran his hands over your body, the glass room having been fogged over since the mission had been confidential, and it was best to keep the subjects to be concealed from any passers by and keep everything under wraps, considering the privacy of the intel that you had been sent to gather.
"What are you doing Bucky?" You sighed, watching as he walked towards you, clothed in your gear, as he licked your lips, humming contently. His hands rolled upwards, finding purchase upon your breasts, making you huff at his execution of curiosity. Usually he was far more of a gentleman than that, you supposed there were a jumble of hormones attained around both of you, a mixture of both male and female in a mass jumble, prompting the pair of you to act in a divergence to the coordination that you usually did. "Seriously? You are such a guy." You groaned, however he did not appear as such, after all, he was piloting around your body.
"I'm just... getting a feel for things." He certainly was, as he pinched your ass, surprised by the spark that it sent up his spine. Now he could understand why you always squealed when he did that, to have that contact resonating from another person when you were least expecting it would send a jitter up your spine. It wasn't that you never slapped his ass or reciprocated the treatment to him, but it felt different, for some peculiar reason. The fact was, that often than not, he got more than a feel for things, he was practically spoilt when it came to receiving from your body.
"Well you can wait until we switch back." You informed him, standing, the weight of the left arm feeling strange as it took a surprising toll on half of Bucky's body. He turned to face you, looking at through you with your own eyes, cocking a brow. It was as though he were trying to make you retaliate in some way to his jurisdiction; the roles really were reversed. He chortled a laugh as he turned, walking towards you in your biological stature, holding your hand out so that he could press his own to the wall.
"If, we switch back." He dared to say, like the grumpy old man he internally was. "Let's be honest doll, we aren't the priority on this; that mission was the be all end all, and they want to uncover the information that we did not manage to find. Stark will probably let us rot like this either way, he's pissed at both of us. He's at me due to how many motorcycles I've been through on missions, along with the whole mother thing that he enjoys to make jabs and use against me during poker night, but he's also pissed at you sugar."
"No he's not." You denied, feeling a ripple of denial swim through your words. But he was, for you know what had riled the billionaire so, though it was nothing that you were proud to admit. "I have no idea what you're talking about Barnes."
"Usually this little act of yours is all cute, but you're in my body, the two elements don't exactly match well." He crossed your arms over your chest, mockingly shaking his head. "I mean, if it were any other day, I'd be prepared to fuck you into submission- well, I could still do that." He prompted, scowling as you laughed at his motives. It was quite humorous, considering that he was always adventurous when it came to the sexual activities that the pair of you endured in together, it was as though you basked in the halls of Hades, for the two of you had definitely sinned.
"Always trying to get into my pants, even if I'm already in yours, in a literal sense." You remarked, smirking coyly at his look of mock offence. "Maybe after this I'll deny you of that luxury, there's enough other ways that I can get myself off." Taunting him was always enjoyable, usually it'd end you up in an intimate predicament from trouble, but this time, the ruckus was in the palm of your hand, but you expected nothing of the sorts with all current problems considered, but you should have expected more. With Bucky, it was best to always expect more from him.
"No one said we have to wait until after." He prowled closer, pulling you down to plant a kiss upon your lips, it feeling sufficiently different to the normalcy that came from the comfort of tenderly pressing your lips together. "Oh, that was weird." He coiled back, wrinkling your nose at the feeling of his own mouth, it was certainly strange.
"So you don't want to proceed?" You tantalizingly asked him, watching as a flicker of conflict reprimanded across your own face that his emotions controlled, flicking out your tongue to swipe across your bottom lip. "Don't want your own dick in you, feel what I feel when you ravish me with your fat cock. I mean, it's a shame that you can't take a real dick when you're in my body, because it can definitely handle it. Not to mention, it's wouldn't be the first time that you had something shaped similarly; remember the strap?"
"My dick's bigger." Was his instant reply, as though he were defending his masculinity, that in a literal sense, was in your hands. "And it's... different." In a sense, it was, and he had always been game to experiment. If he didn't want to pursue anything intimate whilst the pair of you were like this, and he was just all talk, then that was fine. But you could tell that he was slightly intrigued, it was affirmed by an expression that you often wore when you were too. Your bottom lip that was contorted by his will pouted in exaggeration, and you found yourself holding back one of his dominant growls.
"We don't have to do anything." Was your reassurance to him, however you watched as his eyes blared open, widening from the lack of reluctance that you deemed upon him. He wanted a great discussion on the pros and cons, a concern of conflicting interests that he'd progressively fall into, arising the motives that he was interested in. He wanted to proceed in a fashion of discovery, feeling things from your reception of pleasure; it was a certainty that you would feel blissfully good, and he knew that from his own perceptions of the countless times that he had fucked you. "It's probably best if we wait for Helen to return anyway, we wouldn't-"
Your words were obscured into nothingness whence Bucky threw you in a reverse upon the bed, it taking an extra amount of effort for the super soldier shoes that you were clad in, your own arms that were under the control of your partner pressing diligently upon his own chest, lowering you to the mattress, that you dare not say you aided in by sitting down, as to not insult the testosterone that was still viable in his presence. "Wouldn't what?" He spat with your irrational tone, encompassing you to stifle a laugh. "Wouldn't want to get caught fucking when we're practically undergoing quarantine? Now that would be off mission, would it not doll?"
"We're no longer on the mission." You justified enough for the both of you, watching as Bucky unravelled the top half of your gear from the body that he was maintaining, finding it strange to be viewing your own body get into a state of undress through your own eyes, and not the reflective surface of a mirror. The top half of the form that Bucky was overtaking due to a severe mishap flaunted your own breasts before your face, him grasping the weight of them from underneath, as he usually would with his own hands. A stir reaped the male attachment that Bucky's body had attained in the womb, the awakening of his cock causing your eyes to widen significantly, and your brows to raise.
"Love these tits." He muttered, pinching the buds of them, as he noticed the problem that you were swarmed with. "How about you suck on them doll face? That'd be hot." Bucky walked closer to you, pressing your own tits into your face as you obliged his indirect command, taking absolutely no pressure from him, as you condemned and committed yourself to the task. You had sucked upon his nipples before so it wasn't that much of a change, the only difference were that they were your breasts, though that didn't seem to matter as Bucky threw your head back, running his fingers through your own locks. "Now I see why you like that so much kitten."
He stepped away, after a voluntary moment of you doing so, humming lightly as a shiver went up his spine, as though he were being teased with a cube of ice and his body could do nothing more than react to the glazed condiment of frozen water. "Now you see." You inducted a phrase of agreement, running the hand that you were in control of over the cock that was straining at the plying of his combat trousers, as you began to shrive them off, staring down at his cock from an angle that you had never witnessed his large length from. "Take the rest off, wanna fuck you."
He did as you asked, undressing himself as you looked at your cunt as he swiped his hand through it, finding that your body was indeed wet enough to take his own length. "So, are we doing this?" He asked, as he watched you handle his girth, giving it a couple of strokes as the lids that were curtains to your sight flickered, deemed by a new wave of pleasure that you had never wantonly experienced before. You stood, his length swinging between your legs, as you mobilised his body upon the stern cot, climbing atop of him as you began to lick your way into his mouth, winning the battle over his tongue, as he gripped his own length, making you wheeze from the pleasurable pressure.
"You ready Barnes?" You asked him as you sucked a mark into his neck, allowing him to ease you inside your own cunt, directing you to the correct hole as he had a lot of practice doing so. "Fuck!" The pair of you both moaned profanities as you sunk into him, each sensation that you each experienced being a missile of change, yet the succumb of sensations being good all the same. "Shit, am I usually this right?" You enquired, feeling as though you were being squeezed to death inside of your own walls.
"Yes. You are." He breathed, adjusting to his own size that was pressing to the deepest parts within you. "Shit. Does my cock always stretch you this much? Start moving, come on. We have to finish before Cho returns. They might leave us like this, thinking that we are back in our own bodies." And thus, you decided to start thrusting, pointing the tip of his cock deeper inside of yourself as he moaned out, grasping onto your back as the cot squeaked beneath you both.
Already, you had started to feel close, defeated by the newly endured wraiths of satisfaction that derived through each vein within you. You ravenously ploughed into him, getting swept up in the clasp of pleasing rhythms throughout. The pair of you were momentarily wrapped up in a solace of bliss, too entrained in it to noticed the door opening, and two stern soldiers entering, appalled yet not so surprised by the sight. “Seriously you two?” Your eyes widened by the sound of Steve’s voice, excerpting yourself out of Bucky as you scrambled to cover the pair of you up.
“What do you want punk?” Bucky growled, crossing his arms over your breasts, making Sam divest his eyes in a shocked ogling.
“Buck?” The Falcon asked, having thought for a moment, just one, that the pair of you had switched back into your own bodies, but the tone and wording of which he spoke had hinted otherwise. Nothing had changed, there had been no miracle that had sprung upon him to convert him to his original form, he remained stuck in your body, and vice versa.
“You can’t call me that.” Rolling your eyes at their bickering, you made sure the sheet was safe around Bucky’s crotch, as you watched Cho walk in between the solid pair. Her eyes shot up as she saw the predicament, each of you bunched up in one cot together, clothes discarded on the ground. She had just made a mixture for the cure, yet it seemed that her concoction had taken too long to make, otherwise if she’d have down it quicker, this unravelling of intimate notion would not have played out.
Tags for all Bucky works; @tylard-blog1 - please let me know if you would like to be added
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drysdale-barnes · 5 days ago
1k sleepover!!!
firstly, i want to thank all of you lovely people for 1k. i couldn’t be more grateful for all of you and it boggles me that there’s one thousand of you voluntarily following me😳🥺
so, here’s what i’m doing to celebrate 1k....
a sleepover!!!!
it goes as follows:
it will run from the 16th June to the 18th June!
00:00 on the 16th until 23:59 on the 18th (GMT!!)
you can:
send in asks -> (anything about me, ask games, ask anything about my writing, anything you have on your mind)
ask questions -> (would you rather, fmk ((kiss or kill ;)) with any of seb or chris’ characters or any marvel characters), send any thots that you have about any characters
send in drabble requests -> make them as specific as you like, about any character i write for!! i’ll write pretty much anything so go wild (if i don’t get around to yours i will write it after and it will probably be posted the following night!)
send in concepts or thoughts that you have -> could be a certain trope, au or anything really, and i’ll give u my thoughts on it too!
also,,, please rb to get the word out! bc if i do this and no one asks anything i’ll be mortified lmfao
tagging some moots (soz lol)
@mianorth @goaskbarnes @mypalbuck @buckybarnesthehotshot @belladonnabarnes @buckyblues @buckysbbyy @blackberrybucky @teddybearbucky @elijahs-wife @wintersfilm @egcdeath @buckylove123 @winter-james @jurassicbarnes @uprootbasic @buckyshattergirl @thefanbasewhore @peterssweetpea @bitchassbucky @ritesofreverie @buckysbabyyy @itsapeterthing @lokiscollar @tinymalscoffee @bvckysmoon @bucks-bunny @avengerslittleprincess @cloudystevie @sableseb @fuckandfluff
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steves-on-a-plane · 5 days ago
Keeping the Monsters At Bay
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Anxiety Attacks, mentions of nightmares, mentions of broken bones Word Count: 2137 Square Filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ Free Space & @buckybarnesbingo​ U5 *Picture Square* Summary: Reader forgot to replenish the medical supplies after a previous mission and it’s almost time for the team to leave for the next one. The pressure triggers an anxiety attack for Reader, which is when Bucky comes upon them. With Bucky’s help, Reader is able to manage the attack. The next night Reader is able to return the favor when they’re awoken by screaming. Bucky is having nightmares again so Reader helps him get through the night. 
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“Shit!” You hissed out the word as you slammed the storage compartment closed. You looked over your shoulder to see if anyone else had overheard your outburst. Dr. Banner was the only on the quinjet with you. He politely pretended not to have heard you. The other’s would be arriving soon and expect you to be ready to go. You opened another compartment only to discover it too was empty.
“Everything all right, [Y/N}?” Bruce asked after you loudly closed a third compartment.
“Yes, I think so.” You sighed. “I’ll be right back.”
You stormed out of the quintet mumbling every curse word you could think of. On the last mission Steve had asked you to rotate the medical supplies. Apparently you’d remembered to empty all the medical compartments, but never refilled the supplies. As soon as you were sure that you were out of Bruce’s sight you began running through the corridors. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach when you thought of how you could be a reason for the mission to be delayed. You didn’t have much time together everything you needed, but you’d have to do your best. The last thing you wanted was to be in the field and not have something you needed.
“[Y/N]!” Tony called out to you as you almost collided with him. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“Sorry Tony, I’ve just got to grab something quick.” You told him without stopping.
“Wheels up in ten minutes!” He shouted after you. “That’s with or without you!” He hadn’t meant anything by it. You knew he didn’t because half of everything Tony said wasn’t serious. You also knew there was no way Steve would let him leave you behind, but you couldn’t rationalize with anxiety.
You really wished you could turn this part of you off. There was never a convenient time for an anxiety attack, but a mission was one of the worst times. You were already experiencing a stomach pain so intense it felt the way a towel looks when it’s being wrung out. You knew what would happen next, the worrying and overthinking. You’d worry so much about making sure to pack everything that you were bound to forget something. You felt the pain in your chest as you rounded the next corner.
“Almost there.” You whispered as you forced yourself from a run to a walking pace. You were starting to have troubling breathing. You tried to tell yourself it was from the running and the worrying. It would go away once you had all the supplies. That did nothing to sooth the burning feeling in your lungs.
“[Y/N]?” You’d been so inside of your own head, you hadn’t seen Bucky at the other end of the hall. Gasping for breaths now, you allowed yourself to lean against the wall and waited for him to come to you. “Are you okay?” He asked you quietly.
You nodded “Yes” Unable to answer him verbally. He seemed unhappy with that answer.
“You wanna try that again?” He asked. His tone was gentle, inventing. It lacked the usual sarcastic whipping you were used to from him.
“I’m…fine.” You managed between gasps. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing. It was no use. A part of you was still acutely aware of the time crunch you were under. You didn’t have time for an anxiety attack, which was only making it worse.
“You can lie to me if you want to, but it’s not going to fix the situation.” Bucky said. You opened your mouth to tell him again that you were fine and instead you began to cry. You confessed to Bucky the reason that you were so upset.
“The medical supplies? [Y/N] you didn’t forget to refill those after the last mission. Tony was doing something to the jet a few weeks ago and there was a hydraulic fuel leak. A bunch of the stuff in the jet was ruined. Steve and Tony forgot they’d thrown it all away. That’s what I’m doing here.” He removed the backpack he was wearing and opened it. You could see the bag was filled with supplies.
“We have to go.” You gasped. Instead of feeling better, you felt worse. You’d wasted time coming all the way here you were making everyone else late.
“They’ll wait for us.” Bucky said with certainty. “Do you have water with you?”
“I’m not thirsty.” You told him.
“You’ll feel better if you drink water.” He produced a water bottle from his backpack and forced it into your shaking hands. You tried to sip slowly from the bottle, it did seem to loosen the horrible feeling in your gut a little. “Would it be okay if I hugged you?” He asked. “Sometimes it helps to regulate the breathing.”
You nodded. Bucky wrapped his arms around you. It was like magic how he held you just enough to feel secure but not too tight that you felt trapped.
“We’re going to take big deep breaths and let them out together, okay?” You nodded again, nestling close to him. The act felt a little childish, but it was helping you. After a minute of breathing together and sipping from your water, you were calming down. You were already feeling the post-anxiety attack drain on your system. You felt like you could sleep for a week.
“Okay.” He smiled. “Ready to go? We can take another minute if you need…”
“We should go. We’ve already kept them waiting.” You started to jog away.
“[Y/N], wait.” Bucky caught your hand and you stopped. “We can walk. The extra two minutes won’t make a difference. You continued down the hall together, with Bucky still holding your hand. You decided you should say something before you joined the others.
“Thanks for that back there.” You mumbled.
“Anytime.” He vowed. “Attacks like that can be hard to pull your own way out of. It helps to have someone who can help.”
“I hate asking for help.” You confessed.
“I’ve noticed.” He nodded. “But we’ve got your back. That’s what being on a team means.”
“I haven’t had an attack like that in a long time.” You explained. “I thought I’d grown out of it.”
“You don’t outgrow anxiety [Y/N].” He said. You didn’t know what to say. You were coming up on the quinjet and could tell everyone else had boarded. Tony was standing outside waiting for you both.
“Barnes, [Y/L/N] is this mission an inconvenience to you?” You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment and the panic rising in your chest again. Bucky gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“Honestly, yeah, it’s put a damper on my plans for sure.” Bucky called back. “Especially since I had to go all the way to medical to refresh the supplies you ruined.”
“Well, thank you ever so kindly for your contribution Sargent Barnes.” Tony said with a salute. “Thanks for collecting him [Y/N].” Tony winked at you. “He’d probably still be down there gathering bandages without you.”
You and Bucky walked past Tony and continued onto the jet. Bucky dropped your hand and went over to the compartments designated for medical supplies. He began organizing everything While Tony and Steve prepped the jet for take-off.
“Did you find what you needed, [Y/N]?” Bruce asked.
“Hmm? Yeah, I think so.” You nodded. “What did I miss in the briefing?” You changed the subject.
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The mission you’d been sent on was, all things considered, a brief one. You were all back by dinner time the following night. The most severe injury had been your own. You sustained a broken fibia when you failed to stick what should have been an easy landing for you. Clint had patched you up in the field and you’d gotten yourself to the team doctor as soon as you got back.
The team lapsed into their post mission routines. For most that meant well deserved naps in their dorms. Steve always liked to work in his debriefings right away and Tony had a new piece of alien tech he wanted to play with.
Your usual post mission routine consisted of pacing around the building until your body and mind were too tired to do anything but sleep. With a broken ankle you couldn’t exactly do that, but you still had no interest in spending the night in the infirmary. As soon as your leg was wrapped in a cast and you received the okay from the doctor, you hobbled out of the medical wing on crutches. Your dorm wasn’t too far away and you were confident you could make it all the way there without assistance.
You were already wearing a plain pair of grey sweatpants an Avengers logo tshirt that had been given to you in medical, so you didn’t bother changing once you reached your dorm. You didn’t bother turning on the lights either. You just placed your crutches by the door and hopped on one foot over to the bed. You feel asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow.
Screaming. You were awakened with a start to the sound of screams. You opened your eyes and tried to listen to where the screaming was coming from. It sounded like one of the dorms. Not wanting to waste any time, and crutches be damned, you raced from your room. The screaming had stopped, which only concerned you more. The lights were off in every dorm in the hall except one, Bucky’s.
With a sliver of light visible under his door, you knocked. When he answered Bucky was covered in sweat. His hair was sticking to his face and he was panting harder than if he’d just run a marathon.
“[Y/N], everything okay?” He asked like you’d been the one screaming your head off just know.
“You tell me, Buck.” You answered. “Either you’re having a hell of a good time in here by yourself or…” you indicated your disheveled appearance.
“Nothing to worry about.” He told you. You didn’t believe him.
“Are you really going to try to ice me out?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “I was honestly with you yesterday when…”
“It’s nothing to worry about, [Y/N].” He repeated. “I’m sorry if I woke you. Shouldn’t you be resting your leg?” He pointed to your cast.
“I was, until someone’s screaming woke me up.” You pointed out.
“Oh. Sorry about that.” He apologized awkwardly. “I’m good now.”
“Why were you screaming? Were you having nightmares again?” You asked.
“They’ll go away on their own.” He told you.
“Aren’t you the same person who told me that my anxiety wouldn’t go away on its own and that it’s okay to ask for help?” You reminded him. “I’m here, let me help.”
“It’s not that easy [Y/N].” He frowned.
“Bucky your room is across the hall from mine, so I know you don’t get nightmares every night. You haven’t found anything that helps stop them?” You questioned.
“Well,” He hesitated. There was one thing that seemed to help keep the nightmares away, but he hadn’t exactly tested his theory. He’d only noticed that while he was away on missions, if he had someone sleeping close by him, he would sleep through the night. Steve was the only person he’d felt comfortable sharing this information with so far.
“Let me help you.” You insisted, reaching out and taking his hand. Bucky explained his dilemma to you. “Oh, that’s all?” You smiled at him. “I could stay in here with you. I’m supposed to be resting my leg anyway so would be a win-win. My leg gets to rest, and we both get some sleep.”
“What if someone were to find out you were sleeping in here?” He worried.
“We don’t have tell them why.” You promised. “It’s none of their business. C’mon, help me in the bed.” You put an arm around his neck and leaned against him, relieving the weight on your bad leg.
“You’re sure this is okay with you?” He put an arm around your waist and helped you over to the bed.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” You promised as you sat on the bed.
“Are you okay with the lights on?” he asked, sitting down next to you.
“Whatever helps Bucky.”  You nodded. He laid down and you snuggled up next to him. You hadn’t imagined how soft his muscular chest would be, it was the best pillow you’d ever had. When he wrapped an arm around you to hold you close, you were immediately enveloped in warmth.
“This okay?” He questioned.
“Mm-hmm.”  You hummed happily while he drew the bedcovers over both of you.
“Good night [Y/N].” He whispered as your eyes fluttered closed.
“Good night, Buck.” You yawned before drifting off to sleep.  
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drysdale-barnes · 7 days ago
in another life
summary: you come to a harsh realisation about bucky (set in the 1930s)
w/c: ~900 (short and not so sweet)
note: this is my entry for the lovely @elijahs-wife 1k writing challenge!! congrats on 1k tay, you deserve all of it and more💞,,, and wow i rlly did hurt my own feelings with this one, i’m so sorry😫
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You sit cross legged on the leather couch in your living room, twiddling your fingers in boredom until you sense Bucky approaching you. He brushes your hair out of your face, lifting your head so that your eyes lock and cocking his head playfully at you. You can’t help but smile back; his happiness is truly contagious. Addictive.
“You okay, baby?” Your words are honeyed, and escape your lips in an almost purr as his hand caresses your cheek.
“Dance with me, my love.” he murmurs, holding his hand out for you to take; you do so gratefully, your dainty fingers dancing with his own calloused ones, coming to rest palm to palm. You gaze up at him, eyes pouring with adoration as he shoots you that lopsided grin that you love so much.
He pulls you close to his chest, your head tucked under his chin like two pieces of a puzzle; you fit perfectly together. You’re meant to be. And you know you’ll never love another like him. He’s yours and you’re his and that’s just the way that it is. He promised you everything that life has to offer, including his love; of course, you’d be content with him and nothing else, because he’s all that you need.
You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head against his chest. You draw patterns into his back, trying to imprint the feel of his skin on yours into your memory — his scent, his warmth, him.
“Promise you’ll love me forever.” you whisper, almost inaudibly. He nudges your chin up with his finger, pressing a soft kiss to your scarlet painted lips, and smiles.
“You’re it for me, doll. All I need. Of course I’ll love you forever.”
You card your fingers through his cropped hair, tracing his angular cheekbones with your thumbs and smiling as his nose crinkles at the touch.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” He holds his pinky out to you and you frown quizzically. “It’s a promise. I’m promising that I’ll love you forever.” You giggle at that, hooking your own pinky through his and shaking it lightly.
“You have to stay now. I can’t lose you.” You allow yourself to pretend that this is real; that he’s really here with you. Because you want it to be real so badly that it hurts; every minute of every day that you know he’s gone is agonising. There’s a hole in your chest where your heart’s meant to be, and you lose a little more of your perseverance every day. Every day you slip further under, your grief drowning you, filling your lungs and making it impossible to breathe. To live. You just want to succumb to it; you want to let it pull you under. Maybe then the pain will subside, even for just a moment.
Because you just want your boy back, and you can’t have him.
A tear trails down your cheek as you think about him leaving again, knowing that you have to say goodbye. Because this isn’t real. He coos softly, kissing away your tears with his perfectly plump lips.
“What are you crying for, pretty girl?”
“You’re not really here.” He frowns, kissing your forehead.
“I know. But it’s okay, you’re going to be okay.”
“I’m not, Buck. I don’t know how to live without you.” A sob forces it’s way out of your body, your dainty fingers curling around his shirt as you cling to him, for you know that any minute now, he’ll disappear. “Why did you have to leave me? I’m so lost without you.”
“I’m sorry, doll.” Another tear runs down your cheek and his palm wipes it away gently, cradling your face in his hand like something precious — something fragile. As though you’re made of porcelain. Well, that is what you are now: breakable, frail, vulnerable.
You were so strong before; you used to talk back to all of the boys in town when they hit on you. You used to smile and laugh and tease. Push back. Never take anyone’s bullshit. But all of your strength left with Bucky, and he never returned home to give it back to you.
“Please come home.”
“Maybe in another life, we’ll see each other again. But for now, you need to move on. Be happy with somebody else.” he whispers brokenly, anguish painfully evident in every waver of his voice.
“But I need you, James. I can’t move on, you’re the one I need.” You whisper in a hushed tone; if your voice was any louder, it would surely break. “You promised that we’d have a life together. Buy a house, have kids. Grow old.”
“I’m always going to be here if you need me. I love you.” he promises, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, kissing the top of your head as you feel him fade away. You curve your body around his desperately, as though you can hold him close to you and stop him from disappearing. As though you can bring him back to life.
“I love you too.” you sob, closing your eyes.
And when you open them, he’s gone.
Because we slow dance in the living room, but all that a stranger would see is one girl swaying alone, stroking her cheek.
He’s been gone for months, but you still can’t let him go. He’s your love, and your happiness. And now he’s your grief.
Your suffering.
You’ve never felt more alone than you do right now. The two people you love the most in the world are gone, and there’s nothing you can do to bring them back.
Your palm is wet with your tears, and you sniffle, reaching out for someone who isn’t there.
“Bucky…” you whisper to yourself, knowing that you won’t receive an answer.
You’ll never forgive yourself for what happened to him, and you’ll never forgive him for leaving you.
Maybe in another life, you’ll finally be able to be together.
But not now.
It’s not your time; you’re not sure it ever will be.
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buckysberrytea · 8 days ago
A Boy In The Garden
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𝘐 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵. 𝘈 𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦. 
"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯?".
The First Time I Saw “Him”
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buckysberrytea · 8 days ago
The First Time I Saw “Him”.
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Word Count: 963
Summary: You have been strictly told not to enter the garden. Seeing an opportunity, you go for it. That’s when for the first time, you see “Him”.
The big door slammed behind me. Hot tears start streaming down my face. It felt as if someone was squeezing my heart with their hand. "Mother d-didn't ha-ave to be so m-ea-n abou-t it!" The sentence is barely audible between my loud sobs. I just could not see why Mother would be so angry about me spending time in the garden. I start walking in that state towards my room. She had yelled at me quite loudly. Just when I thought Father would stand up for me, he turned a blind eye to her. He acted as if there was no one else in the room other than him. It shattered my heart as he was supposed to support me. He knew I did nothing wrong.
My feet drag through the doors of my bedroom. As soon as they shut behind me, I manage to cry even louder. Thoughts race through my mind at a rapid speed. Scenes from the "talk" started repeating in my mind. "I thought I made it very clear Y/N! You are not allowed to go in the garden!" Mother yelled. "It's just a garden. There is no danger in it that you can use as a reason to talk to me like this!" I argued back, turning my head in Father's direction as a sign for him to support me. However, he remains focused on his book even though he saw me. " I AM YOUR MOTHER IF I SAY SOMETHING TO YOU, YOU SHOULD FOLLOW IT!". Mother's ears are on fire. You could see a vein popping in her hand. "You are all alone here with us. We do not want to see you get hurt in any way!" she says, pointing at me. "YOU ARE CORRECT! I AM ALL ALONE HERE. ALL MY OTHER SIBLINGS LEFT. I AM THE ONLY ONE YOU DO NOT LET OUT OF HERE. THEY TELL ME STORIES OF THEIR FRIENDS AND THEM. ON THE OTHER HAND, I MOTHER DO NOT HAVE A SINGLE PERSON I COULD CALL A 'FRIEND' BECAUSE GUESS WHAT? YOU NEVER LET ME OUT!"
"THAT GARDEN IS NOT SAFE!". "THEN GIVE ME A REASON WHY IT'S NOT YOU CAN'T JUST SAY IT'S UNSAFE WITHOUT TELLING ME THE REASON!" At this point, both Mother and I have dialled our volumes to the max. As soon as mother opens her mouth to say something for the first time, Father moves. He looks up at Mother's face from the chair he sits on while his hands keep the book he was reading in his lap. By this time, tears have welled up in my eyes, I breathe rapidly. " Just.... leave Y/N go to your room." Mother forces the words out of her trying to calm herself down as she stares at my Father. You could see a hint of panic and fear in her eyes. She turned around and started walking towards a bookshelf as I exited the room.
The Next Day:
I wander through the halls once again. This place is huge but, I know every inch of it. I have always wanted a friend who could do activities with me, play with me, make me laugh etc. I did try to make friends. There was a girl with extraordinary fighting skills. She was strong, independent, and confident. Her shoulder-length red hair made her stand out from all the people in the meeting hall. She also dressed differently. Her black leather suit hugged her body perfectly. "Natasha Romanoff" I remember her telling me her name. If Mother hadn't intervened, we could've been friends. She told Natasha to stay away from me. There happen to be a guy I had met named Steve. Steve was a great guy, tall, handsome and respectful. I couldn't even ask him to be my friend. It was during that time Mother 'banned' me from coming into the meeting halls, her excuse being: "All sorts of people come to meet your Father there. You trust people easily. They can be dangerous for you". Even if I wanted, I could not enter there anymore. That reason never made sense. If I blindly trusted people, the reason was me not meeting anyone from outside. If she would've let me talk to outsiders, only then I could learn to differentiate between those I could trust and those I couldn't.
I stand at the archway again. On the other side is lush green grass, fresh air and flowers. I step foot out again. Mother and Father had to leave to attend to urgent matters somewhere, that gives me the freedom to do whatever I desire till they return. I walk straight ahead, spinning, dancing enjoying the cool breeze and the ticklish feeling of grass beneath my feet. The sky is the perfect amount of sunny and cloudy. I run off into the never-ending garden that stretches ahead that is scattered with groups of short trees and shrubs. I walk for maybe what feels like an hour. I can see a patch of shrubs with red roses in the distance. As they come into clear view, I get mesmerized. "They are beautiful." I breathe out softly. A few feet ahead, I see thick, dense trees uniformly stretching sideways on the width of the garden. They are not scattered like before, as if they are acting as a boundary wall. They are so thick that you can not even see what lies behind them. My attention is diverted back to the roses right in front of me. I try picking one when a thorn makes a cut in my finger. I hiss from pain as I look at the cut. A rustling sound catches my attention. Tilting my head in its direction, I see someone.
"There's a boy in the garden?".
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drysdale-barnes · 8 days ago
soup and cuddles
summary: bucky looks after you when you’re sick <3
w/c: ~700
warnings: FLUFFFF (thats it :)
note: i’m so sorry that it’s been a while since i posted over here. i have so much stuff to write and zero motivation or anything, i’m losing the will to live :). but i’m trying to get back on top of stuff, so here’s a little, VERY badly written bucky drabble, just bc i thought the concept was cute ;) also i’m sad and all i want is a bucky to take care of me
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You grunt and groan, trying to get comfortable under the mass of pillows and blankets you have piled on your bed; your throat is raw and you feel like you’re about to cough up a lung, so you had to cancel your date with your lovely boyfriend. And he’s worried. Your phone pings and you roll over to glance at the screen, seeing three texts from Bucky.
Baby, are you okay?? Do you need anything?
Do you want me to bring you some soup? And medicine?
I’m on my way over.
You smile at your phone, grateful to have such a loving and caring boyfriend, but worrying about him getting as sick as you are.
Baby, I’m okay. Don’t come over, I don’t want you to get sick as well.
You sign and roll back over, and your phone pings again.
Too late :)
Your door clicks and in strides Bucky, armed with soup and medicine, just like he said.
“Oh, baby.” he coos, taking in your state; your face is flushed red and your chest heaves as your breath comes out in raspy pants.
“Don’t- want you to get sick.” you croak, hiding yourself under the blankets.
“I don’t care if I get sick. I wanna take care of you.” he croons, hand coming down to peel the heavy blankets off of you, exposing your flushed face to the cool air.
“Shh.” he silences you almost immediately before slipping into the bed next to you and handing you some painkillers, NyQuil and a bottle of water. “Take them.”
You do as he says, and lean back against the headboard, closing your eyes.
You pry your eyes open to look at him and he tuts softly.
“Close your eyes. I’m gonna take care of you.” You do as he says and you let your eyes flutter back closed, your shoulders slumping and muscles aching. You feel his hands come up to cradle either side of your head, rubbing in small circles to relieve some of the tension. You groan appreciatively, leaning into his touch and letting your body slacken against him; he manoeuvres you so that your back is against his chest and you’re laying between his legs, his arms around you and your head tucked under his.
One hand keeps rubbing your head as his other hand moves down to your shoulders and back. The soft touches lull you to sleep, and you curl up against Bucky’s firm chest like a kitten, seeping up his warmth.
He lets you sleep for a few hours, laying with you the entire time and reading a book to occupy himself.
When you wake, you stretch your arms out, yawning and nuzzling further into Bucky’s warm embrace.
“Hey, pretty girl. How’re you feeling?”
“Like shit.” you grumble, face down turned into the cutest pout that Bucky’s ever seen. Your bottom lip juts out and your nose scrunches as you try to get more comfortable.
“Hungry?” Bucky murmurs softly, peppering kisses along your jaw.
“A little.” you muse, giggling throatily as Bucky’s stubble tickles your neck. You whine as he slips out from underneath you, the warmth that you were soaking up running away from you.
“‘M gonna heat you up some soup.” Bucky chuckles. “I’ll be right back.”
True to his word, he returns with a steaming bowl of chicken soup, perching on the bed and moving you to sit up against the pillows. He brings a spoonful of the broth to your lips. You open your mouth, gratefully swallowing the soup and humming in satisfaction.
“Thanks, baby.”
He feeds you all of the soup slowly, letting you savour the taste and the warmth as it slips down your throat and spreads through your body and sends you into a state of NyQuil, cuddles and soup-fuelled bliss.
“Get in.” you whine, tugging on Bucky’s maroon henley.
“I’m coming, doll.” he chuckles, scooping you up and cocooning you both in the covers. His body engulfs yours, soothing you as you grow drowsy in his embrace.
“I love you.” you mumble, intertwining your legs with his own and tucking yourself into him, attaching yourself to him.
“I love you too, babygirl.”
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buckysberrytea · 9 days ago
𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙤 𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙈𝙮 𝙋𝙖𝙜𝙚
𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴.
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starshipsofstarlord · 9 days ago
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The Fast Road - college!Bucky Barnes x ex!cheater!reader
Masterlist Link
Word count - 3060
Summary; he should hate you after what you did, but he can’t. He finds himself falling back into your web, like the lovestruck idiot that he is
Warnings; mentions of a breakup, angst, cheating, alcohol consumption, smut, unprotected sex, use of drugs (cocaine), degradation (not in a kink way), swearing, yelling, slight exhibitionism
He held a cigarette between his fingers as he surveyed you from the other side of the roof, watching how you ran your hands over Rumlow’s shoulders, laughing at something he had sensually whispered into your ear. Bucky didn’t know what he was saying, but he was certain that he would not like it at all.
There were girls trying to speak to him, but he paid them no mind, instead he shoved them Sam’s way as he kept his eyes trained on your form, flicking the ash of his fag to the ground, as he frustratedly bit his lip. As his eyes decided to dart around, he saw him enter the rooftop party, looking proud as he scanned the crowd also, his sight pivoting towards you. Bucky knew that you wouldn’t accept his affections, if they were anything but casual.
That was all you wanted, he discovered that when he found you in bed with that man, beckoning under his touch rather than his own. Not to mention, that man was everything that you had wanted, whilst you were with him. The sight of you and him in the same vicinity sent him hurtles of pain. He was admittedly shocked whence Sam also pushed the women away and clasped his hand onto his shoulder; he was close to pushing it off, but instead he refrained for a moment.
“You need to forget about her, she’s no good for you man. The fault of the end weighs in her hands, not your own.” Sam’s words soothed nothing, instead they brandished a sickening rise in his stomach, but he held it all back as he watched you dodge the affections of your previous lover, and entail persuasions of lust upon Rumlow. Eddie was in your rear view, the only difference was, that he was a simple fling that caused major complications in your relationship status, not that you minded. It seemed that the situation had set you free like a bird from the cage, and Bucky was once more urgent to take you into his captivity.
As horrid as it was for him to admit, and Steve would have slapped him on the back of the head for doing so, he desperately needed you back, you were a craving for him, and he wasn’t yet willing to give you up. Sure, you’d broken his heart and whatnot, however, if he could get you back, he wouldn’t care; he’d take a little bit of affection over none. Brock Rumlow and Ediie Brock, amongst many other competitors for your attention were all he was up against, if he had to, he would most definitely take on the world for you, even if the sentiment wasn’t reciprocated.
“Whatever Wilson.” Barnes scoffed as he took a heavy swig from the green glass bottle that was in his ring clad hand. Sam rolled his eyes at his friend’s ignorance to his advice, knowing that when Bucky wanted something, he was intent on getting it, no matter the cost nor consequences. The sound of footsteps glided over, making Bucky’s jaw clench as he saw the pitiful look on the blond’s sharp featured face. Steve tutted at the aggression behind his words, and softly shook his head, shifting his sights to Peggy for a moment, before flickering his cerulean orbs over to where you were practically dry humping that jerk.
“Don’t whatever him Buck, he’s right.” His words had much more affect on Bucky’s emotions, he noticed that as he winced lightly. “Y/n is a mess, one that you don’t need in your life. After what she did, you deserve better; she just proved that. No one should find their significant other fooling around with another, even if it is one of the reporters from the student council. Doesn’t matter if every girl wants them, if said girl is in a commitment, then she should keep her hands between whom she is supposed to be loyal to, and herself.”
“Maybe it was me Steve, you ever think o’ that?” He passively spoke with an invigorating silence dwindling around him. It wasn’t in his minded pitch, but it seemed every one was listening to his tumbling words, as though they were taking some amusement from watching him crack. “There could have been many problems on my side, she may have kept it to herself to protect my feelings. Maybe my dick wasn’t big enough, or maybe she didn’t like me hanging out with losers like you, ‘cause I gotta say, right now I’m not a fan either.” As he finished his tantrum of denial, his face was flushed and Steve and Sam were looking at him absurdly.
They knew he was suffering, but it hardly gave him a reason to take it out on them, and thus when the blue eyed boy with ex girlfriend issues glanced over, he noted that both the Brocks (first and last named) were abandoned by your presence. Instead they had other drunkard girls hanging from their arms as they resumed showering them with intimate attention after Bucky’s little outburst. You were gone, that was the main thing, and he couldn’t refrain from tracking through the bodies of people, ignoring Steve’s voice calling out for him, and heading down the fire escape.
He found you beside the dumpster that housed a vast littering of shattered beer bottles, sniffing a white substance off your hand, running your nose along the alabaster line that tainted the opposing side of your palm, rubbing your nostrils effectively therefor after. As you looked up, your eyes scanned to the side, realising his ghostly and agitated figure walking towards you, he threw the bottle he carried in with the rest of garbage, the crash making your skin jump. “Quite the mockery you made outta yourself up there Barnes, anyone’d think you still harboured childish emotions of love and romance and all that shit.” You dug in your pocket, searching for your packet of cigarettes and a lighter.
“Are you doing fucking coke?” He blatantly asked you with a reprimanding undertone, it was half hissed towards you, as though he were severely judging your actions. “Don’t just fucking shrug at me, answer me dammit!” His hand rapped against the wall, the knuckles on his hand scathing with blood that broke through his split skin, “How about you stop being so damn childish, and own up to your actions, huh doll face? Don’t take the piss out of me for giving an actual flying fuck, your resentment is untitled and deemed pathetic, you’re the one that cheated on me, if you haven’t forgotten from doing that toxic powder.”
“You’re not the boss of me James!” You growled at him, gasping as he snatched your bag off your shoulder, and rifled through it, securing the illegal condiments in his grasp, and shaking them lightly in your face. “Don’t you dare throw them away, that shit costs a lot of money, or are you as street smart as you are tone deaf.” If he made the thin flakes of small collective white specks disappear, you’d not be able to afford any more for weeks on end, and that would drive you absolutely mad. It was the only thing that helped you to balance your social life and studies, it was fuel to a painful fire that would eventually tire down, but for the next few years, you would be steady and prepared for anything, or so you hoped.
“You’re the one that made me tone deaf doll, I didn’t exactly want to hear you screeching out another guys name.” He remembered like it was yesterday, listening to you evoke a renaissance of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. The sound still drawled around him like it’s prey, haunting him each time until he collapsed into a sobbing mess, feeling grand debate against his inner demons that refused to rest, and had a derelict goal of constantly haunting him with the image of your colossal sin. “So...” he opened the bag of coke, and dabbled an expensive line against the back of his hand. Bucky feared that his life would flash before his eyes; he’d never done nor had he planned to do drugs that made someone thus vulnerable. Cocaine was always off the list, weed was the casual, but he was discarding those values of his, all because he wanted nothing more to piss you off.
“So fucking what James?” Your glare was angled towards the spillage of of content that he was wasting, some even trickled onto the ground like low in precipitation snow. With motive frustration, your teeth gritted together like two gears, as you watched him with bewildered eyes, that retained elements of a variety of emotions whilst looking at him, scared of what his motives were. He leant his head down, raising his baked hand to meet with his nose, as you stepped closer, fury enraging your form. “Don’t you fucking dare Bucky! Fucking stop it, stop it!” To be described as furious with his actions was an understatement, the route of taking drugs and in a sense, fucking up everything good that you ever had was your life, not his.
“You didn’t tell Brock to stop it, nor the other one Brock that was prepared to get beneath your dress given the chance. But you woulda loved that, wouldn’t ya? Because you’re a fucking whore, just love to get everyone’s dick inside of your cunt; it’s practically open season.” Bucky was yelling, there was no doubt in his mind that Steve and Sam, among other attendants of the party would be able to hear him, and it was safe for all of them to assume of whom he was speaking to, and it was his demeaning tone that ran through the ally. “It’s as though there’s nothing you love more than taking someone else’s cock inside of you, no matter if you’re with someone else, or if you’re practically stabbing said person in the back.”
“I loved you!” You couldn’t hold the words in any longer, they ran from you, same as the explode of tears that hurtled down your face. He was continuously grilling you about your dire mistake, as though you had no regret in reference to the grave mistake that you had made. If you could turn back time, you’d have done things differently, same as people. Eddie would never have ended up in your bed, you had been regretfully tipsy, your mind hazed as you prioritised the objective of having sex, be it with another man that was not the one that you had been committed to. It was simply a classmate of yours, the prospect of studying vacating far from the mind. “I still do James.” At your prevail, Bucky laughed, inhaling the powder through one nostril.
It both angered and harmed you that he decided to take the drugs; he had never dared to do something so destructive, and it was all on you, the fault landing on your lap as you stared unimpressed at him. “Love is a scam, i learnt that from you.” His head had began to lightly spin, he stepped closer to you, making you gasp as he pressed you against the cold brick wall, his chest pressing deliriously upon your own. “So who are you going to fuck tonight y/n? Gonna find some poor stressed guy to relieve, make them believe that you actually care to them, lie and tell them that you love them?” He wasn’t sure why he decided to pry at you, however he brought his mouth closer to your neck, nipping upon the skin.
“Buck...” you weren’t sure whether you should push him from you, or allow him to continue, though for now, the latter was in motion as you opted to do nothing. Bucky’s tongue scoured the expanse of your throat, engulfing the layer of your molten perfume, and the sweat that had gathered upon your flesh. His hand fused down to your waist, giving it a seductive squeeze, as your hand pawed at his back. It felt like a dream whence he reeled up your dress, stroking up your thigh as you breathed heavily in his ear. “Please fuck me Buck, want you inside of me.” You asked him prolifically, feeling his chortled at your whimsical desperation.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The man teased, removing his face from between your neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against your own, as you wantonly tried to collide into a kiss with him. “I’m sure it’s not even just because it’s me, is it? You just want someone to stuff you to the brim with their length, fill you up all nice and pretty until you’re crying for them to stop, don’t you doll?” His adventurous fingers played with the hem of your underwear, pulling them down until they fella round your ankles, to where they stayed, cocked around your heels as you hitched your hips and mound in an effort to get closer to his crotch. “Don’t even think I’ll use a condom, show you who you belong to. You’re not even going to think about being with anyone else after tonight, never consider cheating on me again, will you baby girl?”
A whimper delved out from you, as he brought his hand to your cunt, circling your cunt with the pads of his fingers, jolting whence he pinched the bud, drawing your attention to his face, that was intent on maintaining eye contact. “Tell me that you’ll never cheat on me again y/n. I don’t want your apologies, I want to hear you state that you’ll never make the same mistake again.” He continued to massage your pearl, swiping his tongue over your agape lips, the contextual flavour of your alcohol choices mixing, as he provoked you to hum out in pleasure. “Come on baby, you can say it.”
“I’ll never cheat on you again.” There were a blur of tears in your eyes as you informed him of the thing that he wished to hear. Bucky removed his fingers, sucking them into his mouth as he moaned at the taste, having missed it for the long endurance that you had been apart. “I didn’t mean to- I hate myself for it. I’m sorry Bucky, I love you, I love you, and I’ll never dare to repeat my mistake.” The sound of his zipper tuned in your ears, as he adjusted his clothing so that he could pull his cock out, you leant your hand down and gave him a few tugs, directing the uncut head of his prick to your folds, running its leaky agenda down your slit, pressing it to your entrance as he pushed in, diving his body closer to yours, your hips engaging in an intimate clash.
“Still so tight after fucking so many guys.” James breathed, dragging the material of your dress that was upon your breasts down, baring your hard peaks to the open air, as he suckled down on the bud, nipping on it as he allowed you to adjust to his size. He gave an experimental thrust, half in heaven as he drooled upon your chest, grasping one hand against the wall as he began to remove his length in and out from you, the sound of your sopping folds echoing around the area. “You’re never gonna experience that again, I’m going to live in this wet hole, poise my dick in here, weigh down your pelvis as you get descended down by the fullness of my balls.”
“Baby.” Bucky hoisted your leg over his waist, as he pummelled deeper into you, the fact that you were fucking in an ally turning you on furthermore. “Please. Feel so fucking good honey, ‘s your cock hitting me so deep. Love it, an’ you.” His shoulders were scathed with a defying grip that blossomed from your knuckles, the sound of the party above radically making your head spin, as well as the high that you were deposited on. You still were not happy that Bucky had chosen to do cocaine, as hypocritical as it was, you hated seeing him hurt. And the fact that you had caused him such pain in the past made you hate yourself, resentful of every action that you had ever committed.
“Shit!” He groaned, hearing a clad of footsteps escort down the alleyway, and as he turned his head, he saw that they belonged to Eddie and a girl that was hitched on his arm. The sight of them only fuelled his inhibition to fuck you harder, you were unaware of the surrounding and surpassing guests as you were overlooking a great height of alluded integrity. “Yes. Say my name doll, fucking say it.” To prompt you into doing so, he ravished his cock further inside of you, making sounds of utmost pleasure course through your body, as you bellowed out his name, with your eyes sternly traipsed shut.
“Bucky. Bucky!” Your mouth asserted open, as your eyes were screwed close in a lost digress, as Bucky returned his finger to your clit, fondling with the orgasmic button, as you finished around him, making him swim in the abyss of your high. As Eddie passed, Bucky made direct eye contact with him, grunting loudly as he came inside of you, spilling his seed in the privilege of your walls, making you mewl out in rational endurance. The journalism major walked faster with surprised eyes as he hurried his planned hook up away, you oblivious to him and his scurry away as you fell down from your insane height. “Oh my god.” You breathed, pulling Bucky closer to you, entangling your lips in a mass mess.
“You could say that again.” His friends were going to be ravenously disappointed in him when they found out of his re-emerge in relation with you; it was clear that the pair of you had reaffirmed to be partners once more. He had done the cocaine, now it was his chore to keep you as far away from that shit as possible, but for now, he softened inside of you, allowing the mixture of your essences to dribble out from your stuffed folds, and onto the cement below, staining the ground, as you clenched around him, trying to keep his seed remained inside of you.
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starshipsofstarlord · 10 days ago
💕 reader has recently acquired the power of levitation and is just learning to control it. Can you describe situations where when you see Bucky (in different situations), the butterflies in her stomach excite her, causing the forces to get out of control, and she flies (without realizing it until someone grabs her leg). And at the end the same thing happens when Bucky kisses her.
If it is easier this force can also be the force of cold. She kisses Bucky and the whole room is covered in frost)) 🥶
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Snowflake - Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader
Masterlist Link
Word count - 2161
Summary; based on the request
Warnings; fluff, dirty talk, mentions of sex, mentions of imprisonment, mentions of experimentation, a frozen reference
Upon the screen, the suspense thickened as the actors played out the script, putting their own spin on the characters that were assigned to them via the casting crew. They were doing a fine job, nothing amazing nor compelling to get you through another by the same director, but it was alright for the annual weekly movie night that the team was enforced to endorse. “Is anyone else cold, I’m cold?” You mumbled, huddling yourself in the coil of a large blanket, depriving your partner of any warmth from the conductive fabric. It felt like there were icicles tickling down your spine, making you tug the thick fabric further around your slumped shoulders, trying to bite back the chattering of teeth that your mouth threatened to reprimand. Bucky was seated beside of you, cocking a brow at you, as you shuddered lightly, the impact of your new abilities that were provided by your captivity within one of hydra's bases via experimentation.
"It's boiling in here." Clint bereded his opinion, wearing a sleeveless shirt. He raised his arms, casting everyone a faculty of a glimpse of his armpits, to their unwanted dismay, the sweat casting pearls of exhaustion upon his forehead the evidence that he indeed spoke nothing more than truth. It lightly irritated you at his disclaimer, and thus, he soon rejoined his limbs to his side as a whisk of bitter air inclined towards him, his eyes sternly darting to where you were slowly inching closer to Bucky. “Stop woman! You don’t have to frost bite me because I’m warm blooded, appreciate the fact that I saved you from becoming one of hydra’s frozen vessels.” It was true, when you became captured by the undercover, enemy lined organisation, he was one of the team members that went against Fury’s orders of misconduct, and went in to save you. His words were not condemned with ill wellness, he was just being Clint, and it minded you not one bit that he brought up the minor imprisonment that you had been rendered powerless in; you’d suffered through worse.
“You use that excuse against me every time.” A huff reprimanded from your lips as you tentatively crossed your arms, unimpressed as you were when he used it to bargain into winning poker on Saturday night game nights when the pair of you were present. It was a relief that nobody else used it as a device to subtract your victory, although if they wanted to, they darn well could. “Fine, just stop being a pussy about it, I might be ice cold but I’ll have you melting in a puddle of your stupid bow and arrow if you don’t let that one heroic moment that you’ve ever had go.” Thus he was condemned with being shovelled in his own body’s heat once more as you released him from your icy grip, scooting closer to Bucky whom had trailed his vibranium arm across the back of the loveseat that the pair of you shared. A smile tugged at your lips as you tucked yourself into the crook of the machinery, not offering your boyfriend any of your blanket for he would grow cold from the shrill lack of temperate waves that rolled from your form.
With a fog cloaked sigh, you refocused on the movie that obscured the screen, rolling your eyes at Thor and Steve throwing candies to one another like children; those two were a disaster together, and whilst amusing, you were trying to attune your perception upon the wide screen that Tony had invested in, though he was not currently present, having gone on an overdue vacation with his initial family, abandoning you all to survive without his presence in the compound. As excited as you had been without his parental like gaze overlooking you all, it was adamant to say that you missed it; without him everyone had gone borderline crazy. The method of his madness was unpretentious, but gone all the same, and it seemed every one, despite being an adult, had undergone significant leisure without him. At least in this enduring time, you had Bucky who hit his thick and well pronounced thigh against your own, brushing the muscle along your leg as he slunk his scruffy face closer, having forgotten to shave whilst Tony was in another destination, as his warm breath fanned directly into your ear.
“Can’t wait to fuck you later, it’ll be like shoving my dick in a freezer. The name Winter Soldier would be more relevant now, don’t you think?” In turn you squeaked, surprised by the context of his words, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried not to picture his cock, warm and waiting to enter you. It did not work, the flushed skin of his length enveloped your mind, a glare of frost swarming over the entire room, as the television went static, and the plot and everything of the movie stopped, freezing before the screen turned into an empty abyss of nothing. Hollers of rebuttal echoed around the room, as you opened your eyes, seeing the effect that Bucky Barnes had on you. “Hey calm down, she didn’t mean to, did you my beautiful little snowflake?” All eyes were averted towards you, and the innocent cock of Vision’s head had embarrassment thawing over you; sometimes he was so oblivious, although all seemed to be when it came to the blizzard that had erupted around them. The one thing that they were certain of however was the retrospective cluster of cold had come from you, though they had yet to discover that it had perused from the arousal that contorted in your panties.
Groans reverberated around the room, making guilt succumb upon you, as though you were a pawn in chess, being stamped on by the stigma endorsed queen. “I swear to god Elsa...” Sam remarked, not yet quite finishing the point that he was happening across, pointing his finger towards you in disarray, unpressed by the matter, simply trying to stir the pot. Clint was now cold once more, he hugged his arms around himself as Thor continued to feed himself ice cream with a larger than desert spoon, keeping the tub all to himself. At the midguardian reference, he hummed in pleasantries, understanding. He took the flat ladle from his mouth, jousting it like a champion in the air, seemingly almost unfazed by your winter hymn that had scorned the area, more proud of himself for being knowledgeable in human conversation. Since Tony’s current failure of presence, Thor was the only one to remain the same; he continued to be a sample of good grace in the residency, humouring every other avenger with his uplifted spirit and eagerness to be involved in anything (mostly poker).
“I understood that reference.” The god proclaimed, and you’d have congratulated him if it weren’t for Bucky’s flesh hand that was dwelled in a lack of heat sliding beneath the blanket, clutching heavily onto your thigh, making you engulf a deep breath as you reformed yourself, not wishing to give away the teasing that was ongoing beneath the layer. Steve spurred a large handed pat onto Thor’s shoulder, becoming slightly intimidated as he felt the ripple of muscle beneath the God’s simple grey hoodie, that like the blanket strewn across your lap and more, concealed plenty from the first hand eye.
“So did I buddy.” The captain confirmed, a natter of mentions affirming of his age, and what a surprise that was. Your body tensed as Nat stood, shaking her frozen soda with a disgruntled expression, quirking her brow towards you as she headed towards the adjoined kitchen, throwing the complimentary drink of solid ice into the trash, as she turned on the kettle that you had insisted the billionaire invest in, hoisting mugs onto the counter from their placement in the variety of cupboards. “You’re making hot chocolate?” The super soldier asked as he noticed the task that Natasha was prioritising. The assassin rolled her green eyes, inviting every one over as she grasped some extra mugs.
Bucky escorted you along with everyone; they all understood that the fluke of freezing was not your intention, and thus they said nothing more on the matter. But as you all waited for the hot chocolate to be conformed into its final presence that evolved from heated water, your boyfriend had some particular things that he wished to speak of. “You know why I called you a snowflake darling?” To respond, your engaged your front teeth down upon your bottom lip, pressing down as you softly shook your locks, that had light streaks of white coiled through them; the experiment that had taken place over your body was still bestowing new factors upon you, making you feel swell and spiralled around like a snow storm. “Because they’re so spread out, and open, awaiting to fall from a height of which they land elegantly, absorbing the attention that they receive as they slowly but surely melt into a small wet puddle, much like the endurance your body reprimands when it reacts to my touch.”
Though you were cocooned in the blanket, you did not remain in one spot as one did, instead, like a newborn butterfly, you began to float as you became overcome with a selection of emotions; his seductive flirting had quite the effect on you, and you hardly realised that you were being raised above until a hand grasped your ankle, slowly lowering you down onto a normal and even ground. “I’m gone for just over a week, and this is what comes of my place.” Tony sighed, pinching his brow, as Morgan trotted into the room, inclining to wrap her hands around your legs. “Barnes if you continue to be crude to this one, the entire base is going to end up in space - we aren’t the guardians of the galaxy, we are avengers that protect earth! You’d think the rest of you would realise that this only happens when this old man is whispering in her ear, in the future, if you wanted an undisrupted movie night, keep them apart god forsakes.”
“How did you-“ Tony jutted a finger up at Bucky’s unfinished enquiry, shaking his dark haired head at the White Wolf. He was a genius, of course he knew anything, and one thing that he had grew into the habit of understanding was how to read people. It wasn’t that difficult, he had once been like you and Bucky in his past explicit relations, the only difference was, there was a difference in consequence. Bucky suffered from the sore glares from his team members as they squinted heavily at him for ruining their bonding time, the only one that continued elaborating a chunky smile on their face was Thor. “My bad...” he sulked, breathing out a loud sigh as he turned around, and pressed a peck to your forehead, only to be digressed with a layer of frost over his vibranium appendage. “I deserved that one.” He promptly spoke, as Sam ravenously agreed, praising you for striking against him.
“Can we plait Thor’s hair?” Morgan asked, and you nodded, however Thor’s eyes widened, being put on the spot. It wasn’t that he was adjourned against being pampered under such a luscious account, it was rather the protocol that he was wary of. Your hands; your cold hands. He pretended to be blatantly unbothered by the swarm of cold air that resonated around, but that was just for show. He wanted to be seen as the strongest avenger, being touched by your frozen needle fingers would suppose otherwise, and he would surrender that role to Hulk (who already carried that title to Thor’s youthful like dismay). Thor gulped, stepping closely to Natasha who saw through him as clearly as she could a building’s single glazed window. He watched her get the mixture ready, and he leant down, not thinking of Barnes and Rogers hearing him with their enhanced senses.
“I’m going to need some of that hot chocolate.” He stated, feeling like it were a crucial piece of surviving your cold, frost giant like touch. Bucky puffed with brief laughter as he shook his brunette head at the god, earning a look of demanding silence from Stark, and thus he moved closer to you, leaning down to speak once more into your alert and numb ears.
“Well you do know how to work some magic with those hands...” he admitted from experience of being pleasured by them, Morgan luckily oblivious and unaware of what was being spoken of.
“Barnes!” Stark yelled, leaving both him and Thor in a frenzy as the god gulped down the hot beverage, placing the mug on the side and sliding it closer to the black widow.
“Another.” He pleaded senselessly, opting not to smash the mug, not demand, for with Natasha, if she were riled it would turn the tables terribly for the other person.
Bucky tags; @tylard-blog1
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buckys-bug-archive · 12 days ago
baes i am begging u to follow my new blog instead of this one, i don’t post on here anymore!!!! please please please follow @buckysbrattybug,, i’m much more active over there <33
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purple-babygirl · 12 days ago
What about Bucky dealing with a Little that's very picky about food and nervous about trying new foods so Bucky does things like eating the new food first and then asks if the little would want some, and maybe something to do with the fact that the little eats the same few foods nearly everyday? You can ignore this if you want!!
Word count: 2,613
A/N: Hi! I loved this so much and I loved writing it and I really hope you like reading it just as much💜 Thank you for sharing this idea with me; it was awesome💜 Also, it might take me some time to get to your guys' asks, but I will never ignore you. Please enjoy xx💜💜 I know I said I was trying to write them shorter but they keep getting longer idk I like to make food so🤷
Bucky was a democratic daddy. He had rules and they were agreed upon and followed, but there were still certain things his girl got to choose to her own liking. Bucky would schedule a play date and she would decide what to wear. Bucky would say it's bath time and she'd point to the bath bomb she wanted to drop in the tub. Bucky would cook and she'd pick what she wanted to eat.
The thing was, though, that she picked almost the same things every single time. She ate the same things every week. And not only that, but there were stuff she would refuse to eat or even taste. Her doctor assured Bucky it wasn't something physical: no sensitive palate and no allergies. She was just a picky eater; always nervous about trying anything new.
This left Bucky with limited options both when he was cooking or ordering food. He wanted to make his girl comfortable, but that didn't mean he wanted her to miss out on all the benefits other foods offered because mushrooms were tasteless, seafood tasted ocean-rancid or the texture of cooked zucchinis was weird.
“Hey, bubba, what do you think we try something different today?” Bucky proposed after she picked fried chicken again when asked about what she wanted for dinner.
“Different?” She tilted her head, dropping her colouring pencil, letting Bucky carry her outside of the playroom.
“Mhm, maybe we could try a new recipe for chicken? You know daddy only makes you tasty stuff, right?” Bucky said as he sat her up on the kitchen counter.
“I don' know, dada..” she trailed off unsurely, the thought alone making her nervous.
“You're doubting daddy's cooking skills?” Bucky gasped, closing his eyes and clutching his heart.
“No, no, dada, no!” She assured him quickly, wrapping her limbs around him like a baby koala, arms and legs hugging his torso.
“You like daddy’s cooking then?” He asked her playfully.
“So you're gonna help daddy with our newest recipe?” Bucky opened one eye, smiling mischievously at the girl wrapped around him.
“Yes, daddy, I like it a lot.”
“Yes, daddy.” She meekly nodded in his chest.
“And you're gonna give it a try? Eat it with daddy?” He opened the other eye, his big hand rubbing her back.
“Yes, daddy,” she repeated, looking up at him.
“Such a good girl.” Bucky kissed her forehead and she smiled at the praise.
Few minutes later, Bucky had the needed ingredients on the spacious counter besides his girl: chicken breasts, shallot onions, a couple garlic cloves, cream, some shredded mozzarella and parmesan and mushrooms. Now, she did object to the addition of mushrooms to the dish, but Bucky convinced her it won't affect it because it had no taste. She couldn't argue against her own words.
Bucky could see the slight sadness on her face because she actually liked everything he put in that pan except for the sliced button mushrooms. But he needed her to give the fungi a chance.
“Bubba, you wanna sprinkle the cheese?” That should cheer her up.
“Baby doll, you wanna try some?” Bucky asked before scooping her a portion, though he knew what she was about to say.
“Only cream, no mushrooms, please, dada.” Exactly that.
“But, bubba- just give it a try.”
She stayed silent, her fingers pinching the tablecloth.
“For me?” Bucky pleaded with her gently.
“Dada..” she didn't want to say no but she didn't want to eat the mushrooms still.
“Here, look, daddy will try them first and I'll tell you if they don't taste good, okay? Promise,” Bucky said, scooping some cream and mushrooms on his spoon.
“Okay, daddy,” she agreed quietly, his promise making her feel less nervous. She trusted her Daddy's judgment.
“Bub, you're missing out,” Bucky told her as soon as he chewed his food, licking his spoon in emphasis, “those mushrooms are delicious.”
“They have a taste?” She asked with wide eyes, making Bucky smile big.
“Yup, taste like the cheesy cream sauce we made. You want one?” He picked one slice of mushroom, rubbing it in the white sauce.
She nodded, opening her mouth.
“Good girl.” Bucky slid the fork in her mouth, watching her face as she chewed.
“How does it taste, bub?”
“Like cream,” she confirmed with a smile.
“Wait till you try it with chicken in the same bite, hold on.” Bucky excitedly started preparing the next bite on her fork, internally sighing in relief that he was able to get her to try something new.
When he tried to do that again with zucchini though, Bucky miserably failed. The second she saw the tall vegetables through the plastic shopping bags, she asked Bucky if they could order pizza for dinner that night, not even giving him a chance to cook them for her. The same thing happened when he attempted to sneak shrimps into their linguine. She wasn't near as compliant as she was when they cooked the mushrooms. Maybe it was because mushrooms didn’t have a strong, distinct taste or texture for her to remember and complain about. Whatever the reason, she made one thing clear: she did not want her teeth anywhere near that green vegetable or that shellfish.
Bucky almost gave up on zucchinis and shrimps until one day when they were watching Ratatouille, a lamp lit above his head. He saw his girl mesmerized by the dish Remy made Ego so much that she constantly kept talking about it: how colorful it was, how she wished she could taste it and how she wondered what was in it. Bucky being Bucky, he knew the recipe. And he knew it essentially contained zucchinis. So the next day when grocery shopping, Bucky made sure to get all the ingredients needed to make one, delicious, authentic ratatouille for his girl.
Only problem was, she was a smart little one. She knew zucchinis when she saw them and she saw Bucky thin-slicing a few. So she refused to eat when dinner was on the table, asking if she could have noodles instead. It would be the fifth time that she'd wanted noodles for dinner that week. Bucky made her noodles anyway so she wouldn't feel left out on the dinner table, but he still had to convince her.
“Mmmm, it tastes so good, baby doll. I bet it's better than the one Remy made,” Bucky said, exaggeratingly savoring the bite he took.
“Remy is the best chef ever, dada,” she mumbled, fingers playing with the tablecloth.
“Exactly, so what does that tell ya?” His question made her gaze on the full pan in subtle contemplation.
“That daddy is a better chef?” She bit down.
“That's right. You want a taste, bub?” Bucky asked her softly.
“Dada, I don't like zucchinis,” she said in subtle frustration, her feet almost kicking air under the table. She wanted a taste, she just didn't want a taste of zucchini.
“Too bad; tastes delicious,” Bucky shrugged apologetically, watching her as he took another fork between his lips.
“Does it really taste good?” She wondered curiously, eyeing the tomato sauce-smeared plate.
He successfully had her attention.
“So good?”
“Yeah, so so good,” Bucky promised, “you wanna try?” He offered her the next loaded fork with a hopeful smile.
She stared at Bucky, hesitation clear in her eyes despite her mouth watering at the sight and smell of the dish, the sweetness of basil filling the air.
“But just a li'l bite?” She negotiated, still trying to get out of having to eat zucchini.
“Just a little bite; see if you like it?” Bucky dropped the food back on the plate, getting her a smaller portion on the fork instead.
She nodded, “yes, please, dada.”
“Good girl. One little bite coming up. Open up, bub.” Bucky smiled, positioning the fork before her mouth.
She faintly pouted at the thought of zucchinis but opened up and let herself taste the food. The more she chewed the more her eyes widened, making Bucky chuckle.
Bucky didn't put any zucchini on the first fork, not wanting her to feel betrayed. He wanted her to warm up to the meal bit by bit, so he only gave her eggplant and tomato.
“You like it, baby doll?”
“Yes, dada. 'S delicious.” She nodded, tongue licking the side of her lips.
“Told ya.” Bucky grinned wider, reloading the fork for her.
“No, dada, that's too much zucchini,” she whined when she saw the bite he was preparing on the fork.
“Tell you what, did you like the sauce?” Bucky asked and she nodded in confirmation.
“Yeah? Okay, we'll dip it in lots of sauce, cover it up real good and you won't even know zucchini is there.” He promised, rolling the zucchini on the fork around in the bottom of the casserole pan.
“But I saw it.” She continued to whine.
“Trust me, bub, just like we did with the mushrooms, yeah? Open up.”
She obeyed and let Bucky feed her the sauced veggies and he was right, all she tasted was the amazing sauce and the slight crunch of the onions hid the weird texture of the zucchinis.
“Dada, wan' more please,” she requested with a sheepish smile after swallowing, her feet now swinging under the table.
Bucky was just staring at her, proud of himself that he got her to enjoy a food she would've continued to claim to hate minutes ago. He was more than happy to be the Remy to her Ego.
“Of course, baby doll.” He smiled wide, scooping another serving on the plate for her, “tell me I'm a better chef than Remy first,” Bucky teased, keeping the fork at a distance from her mouth.
“Dada's better.” She blushed, opening her mouth, making Bucky chuckle at her cuteness.
She was finally eating zucchinis and she was relishing them. That was amazing progress; Bucky just had to find a good movie for every food she refused to eat…
It was two weeks after Bucky made them ratatouille that he tried to sneak in another recipe containing something she didn't like to eat. Bucky had done his movie research.
And so on movie night, Bucky put on The Princess and The Frog for them to watch and made sure his baby had her eyes on the screen when Tiana's father was stirring the pot of gumbo.
“Oh, look how tasty that gumbo's looking, bubba.”
“It's a movie, dada. Real shrimps taste like-” She shook her head as her smart mouth ran.
“The ocean, yeah, I know, bub.” Bucky sighed, kissing her temple. The hardheadedness he'd encouraged on her before was coming back to bite him in the butt.
But Bucky wasn't a daddy to give up. He set up his ingredients the next day and invited his baby doll to the kitchen to assist. She was always happy when they were doing stuff together, and Bucky wanted her to see how everything was made so she knew what she was presented when it was time to eat.
Bucky did the dangerous stuff: peeled and deveined the shrimps, cut up the sausages and vegetables, minced the garlic, and simmered the sauce while she did the safer stuff like handing him the salt and pepper, tasting the warm broth a couple of times before Bucky dropped in the shrimps, and occasionally giggling when he would peck her nose or cheek.
“You wanna put in the last magic ingredient, baby doll?” Bucky suggested, pointing to the Tabasco sauce bottle.
“Yes, dada.” She nodded, happy that she gets to play Tiana's part.
She let Bucky open the bottle for her and hand it over, his hand on hers to make sure she didn't spill too much into the pot.
She was pleased to be cooking with her daddy, but she wasn't exactly as pleased about the thought that she might have to eat shrimps or something that tasted of it for dinner.
When they were seated, she didn't let Bucky scoop any shrimps for her. She only agreed to try the veggies and the sausages and maybe get a couple of warm broth spoons. But Bucky wasn't going to have it be like this.
“Oh my god! Who made these amazing shrimps that taste nothing like the ocean and everything like Tiana's gumbo; they are yummy!” Bucky announced loudly, making her giggle as she chewed her beef sausage slice. She was thankful the shrimps didn't ruin the whole dish for her.
“Baby doll, you've got to try this. It's too delicious!”
She shook her head stubbornly, trying not to gag as she watched Bucky bite into another shrimp.
“Bub, I promise it doesn't taste like the ocean.”
“I don't know, dada..” she replied, nervously picking at the tablecloth again.
Bucky frowned, disheartened, as his shoulders drooped. She didn't like that look on daddy. She wanted to make him smile.
“One bite?” She asked in her small voice, eyes becoming curious again.
“One bite.” Bucky cut her a small piece of the shrimp and carefully neared the fork to her mouth.
She pulled away before it touched her lips “but.. if I don't like it daddy eats the rest? Please?”
“Okay, baby doll, whatever you want.” He smiled in agreement.
She sniffed at the fork, surprised to find that it smelled of herbs instead of the ocean. She locked eyes with an expectant Bucky as she closed her lips around the fork. She pulled back and started chewing slowly, Bucky anxiously anticipating her wanting to spit the food out.
She chewed for a minute before swallowing and smiling. She actually smiled at the taste, “'S good, dada.”
“Really? You like it?” Bucky asked cheerfully and she nodded.
“You want more?” He offered with a grin and she nodded harder.
“Yeah, daddy didn’ lie to me. It doesn’t taste like the ocean.” She beamed gratefully.
“Yes, please, dada.”
“Dada? Thank you,” she whispered shyly to Bucky as she sat on the kitchen counter, watching him do the dishes.
Bucky was so contented with himself he could write it in the papers. His girl was eating stuff he cooked that she'd refused to eat from the hands of certified chefs before. And she is liking them! No spitting, no throwing up, no disgusted, grimacing facial expressions made. He was really succeeding!
“For what, baby doll?”
“For cookin' me all the delicious food in the world.”
Bucky turned the water off and dried his hands before walking to her and engulfing her in his arms, her face finding its hiding place in the crook of his neck, “you're welcome, bubba,” Bucky sighed, kissing her hair, “thank you for trying it.”
She pecked his jaw in reply. She was so precious and adorable and she didn’t even know it.
“And I also like it when daddy tastes the food for me first,” she added, pressing her nose further into his neck.
“Yeah? Why's that?” Bucky smiled at the thought of her feeling safe eating aft-
“'Cause then if it tastes bad daddy could eat it alone and I don't have to eat it.” She mumbled, making Bucky fake another gasp.
“An' because I trust daddy too,” she peeked at him, biting back a smile.
“Oh no, too late, young lady, my heart has already been broken.” Bucky shook his head dramatically, playfully trying to pull away from the hug.
“No, no, dada, I love you,” she giggled and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, not wanting him to stop holding her.
Bucky laughed, “I love you too, bub.” Bucky kissed her forehead, nose and cheek, “I'll taste every food first for you.”
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buckysbrattybug · 17 days ago
such a good boy
summary: it’s bucky’s first time without you when he’s little. steve looks after him for the day.
w/c: 1.4k
pairing: little!bucky x mommy!reader
warnings: mdlb dynamics, little!bucky (he’s a warning bc he melts my cold, dead heart), bucky being clingy af, crying, meltdowns, separation anxiety
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“Mama, don’t go.” Bucky sobs into your chest as you attempt to pry him off of you before his tears soak through your shirt.
“Baby, I know it’s hard. I have to work today.” Your heart splinters as you take in his wrecked state; his eyes are red and puffy and tears pour down his cheeks as he sobs, clinging to you like his life depends on it.
“M-mama, no. Stay.” A thin whine escapes his lips and you lift his face, wiping the tears from his flushed cheeks. He’s struggling today - he’s feeling extremely little and vulnerable and in this state, he can’t understand why you can’t just stay here with him.
“Baby, you’re going to have a great day. Uncle Stevie’s coming over to play with you and you’re gonna have so much fun with him.” You try to reason with him, hoping to alleviate some of the pain he’s feeling regarding your absence.
“No Steebie. Wan’ you.” His bottom lip juts out and quivers as he desperately tries to hold his tears in, his chest heaving erratically.
“Shh. Breathe, honey.” you coo softly, running your fingers through his hair as his arms tighten around you. After a couple of minutes, his breathing evens out and his sobs quiet down to soft whimpers. “Good boy, you’re alright.”
A quiet knock on the door breaks Bucky out of his trance and he whines; it’s a needy, high pitched sound that makes your heart clench.
“It’s open.”
The door swings open and Steve walks in, sitting next to you on the floor. Bucky’s legs wrap around your waist and he buries his face into your chest, refusing to look in Steve’s direction.
“Baby, it’s Stevie. Say hi.”
“No.” His voice is muffled through your shirt and you sigh softly, trying to pry yourself away from him. “Mama, no!” A strangled shriek erupts from his lips and his sobbing resumes, even harder than before. Tears prick at your eyes but you push them back; Bucky seeing you cry will only send him deeper into hysterics.
“Bubba, I’ll be back before you know it. It’s only for a few hours and you’re gonna have a great day with Steve.”
“Yeah, Buck. What do you want to do today?” Steve asks, reaching a hand out to rub Bucky’s shoulder comfortingly.
“Nuffin.” he grumbles defiantly, turning his back on Steve.
“Baby, I have to go.” You place a kiss to his forehead before sliding out from underneath him and letting Steve take your place. He whimpers, trying to climb off of Steve’s lap and run back into your arms but you stop him with a raise of the eyebrows.
“But, Mama-,”
“Baby, I’ll be back in a few hours. Stay here and have a good day with Steve. I’ll see you later, alright?”
“M’kay.” His voice breaks and he doesn’t halt his attempts to run back to you, but Steve holds him tightly. They may have the same amount of strength when Bucky’s in his big headspace, but he just can’t compare when he’s little like this.
“Be good, I love you.” You blow him a kiss as you retrieve your bag from the stairs, sending a grateful look to Steve. “Thanks for this.”
“It’s no problem, Y/N.”
“L-love you too, Mama.” His voice wavers dangerously as he whimpers in defeat and falls limp against Steve. Smiling softly, you step out of the door and close it gently behind you. Bucky’s cries from inside the house feel like shards of glass against your heart, but you force yourself to get into your car and drive away, no matter how much you want to run back into the house and hold him in your arms.
You arrive at the compound a few minutes later, stepping out of the car and rushing into the building hastily. The only people working today are Tony, Nat and Bruce, but they need you to help with a few things in the lab.
Nat spots your tear soaked shirt as you step through the door of the lab, chuckling to herself.
“He didn’t take it well?”
“Don’t even get me started.” you mutter quietly, your heart still aching as you think about Bucky’s meltdown.
“Bless him. He’ll adjust soon enough.”
“Yeah, he just needs a distraction.” You take a seat on the stool next to her, shrugging your jacket off and plopping your bag under the table.
“Right, so what are we doing?”
“Buck, you need to eat.” Steve pleads with him, lifting the fork to his mouth once again.
“Don’ wanna!”
“Bucky, don’t you wanna tell Mama about how good you’ve been when she gets home? She’ll be so proud if you behave for me.” His shoulders sink in defeat and his brows knit together in a frown.
“M’kay.” he grumbles, his voice low and quiet.
“Good.” Steve lifts the fork to his mouth and he reluctantly takes it, humming in pleasant surprise as the flavour of mac and cheese explodes in his mouth.
“‘S good, right?” Steve chuckles, wiping some stray sauce from the corner of Bucky’s mouth. Surprisingly, Bucky ends up eating the whole bowl, suddenly in a much better mood than he was at the start of the day.
“What d’ya wanna do now, hmm?”
“Play!” He perks up even further as he leads Steve to the playroom, showing him all of his toys that you’ve bought for him. Steve pulls Bucky into his lap and he settles instantly, resting his head against Steve’s broad chest. He shows Steve all of his favourite toys, including the dinosaurs that he absolutely adores, before growing tired, his eyes heavy as he sinks into Steve further.
“Let’s get you to bed for a nap then, little one.” he coos, lifting him into his arms and carrying him to the bedroom. Steve envelops Bucky in the covers, drawing the curtains closed and Bucky falls into a deep slumber almost instantly, his mouth agape as soft snores escape his lips.
By the time he wakes, it’s only a few minutes before you’re due home. He pads down the stairs in search of Steve, who’s watching tv in the living room.
“Mama back soon?” he asks timidly, fiddling with his fingers as he stands in the doorway.
“Yeah, only a few minutes, bud.”
“‘kay.” He climbs onto the couch next to Steve, huddling his knees into his chest as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.
After a few minutes of silence, the lock of the door clicks and Bucky throws himself from the couch, bounding into your arms as you step through the door.
“Hey, baby.” you coo, stumbling back slightly as he runs into your chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“Mama…” he breathes, inhaling your scent deeply as though you haven’t seen each other in years.
“Were you good for Stevie today?” He nods fervently as you place your bag down and walk to the living room with him in tow. As soon as you sit down, he latches onto you, climbing straight into your lap and resting his head against your chest.
“He was really good, Y/N. We had a nice day, didn’t we Buck?”
“Yeah. Fanks, Steeb.” he mumbles, his voice muffled through the material of your shirt.
“You’re welcome, bud. We’ll definitely have to hang out more, right?”
“Mhm.” Bucky murmurs enthusiastically, twiddling a piece of your hair between his fingers.
“Thank you for staying with him today, Steve. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime, Y/N. I enjoyed spending some time with him and I think he liked it too.” he chuckles, ruffling Bucky’s hair before standing up to retrieve his things. He grabs his bag, walking towards you to give Bucky a hug and you a kiss on the cheek before making for the door.
“Bye, Steeb!” Bucky shouts as he steps out of the door, eliciting a hearty laugh from him.
“Bye, Buck.”
Once he’s gone, Bucky sinks into your embrace, clinging to you like a lost puppy as you pepper kisses all over his face.
“I’m proud of you, baby. You’re a good boy, staying with Stevie and being so brave.”
“Fanks, Mama.” he beams from the praise, a layer of pink dusting his cheeks as a bashful expression graces his features.
“Oh, I love you.” you coo, scratching his back lightly just the way that he likes. He practically purrs, smashing his face into your chest as his eyelids flutter in bliss. “That nice, bub?”
“So good, Mama.” His voice is high and needy, his jaw slack and eyes heavy despite being well rested. “Missed you.” he mumbles, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your shoulder as you lull him further into a blissed out state.
“I missed you too, my sweet boy.”
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