I live in a fictional world. 30s, she/her.Requests are always open.Married to fictional characters.
Last active 60 minutes ago
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
Justice by Jamie!

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky is back!
Bucky had barely sat down on the couch when he heard the unmistakable thunder of little feet running across the hallway, followed by a high-pitched war cry.
“NOOOOO SAMUUUU!”
Then came the thud, a grunt, and a cry for help.
“Jamie!” Bucky jumped up instantly, turning the corner to find the scene.
Samuel was on the rug, hands up in surrender, giggling nervously. And there on top of him was Jamie. Chubby legs straddling his older brother, determined pout on his face, tiny fists smacking Samuel’s chest like miniature hammers.
“I said sorry!” Samuel whined, laughing but also genuinely confused, whether to be scared or accept fate.
Bucky swooped in, grabbing Jamie under his arms like a football. “Whoa, whoa, soldier. Easy there. What’s going on?”
Jamie kicked his feet in the air, face red with pure toddler rage. “Samu bad! Push Natty!” he babbled furiously, cheeks puffed, “Me say no push Natty! BAD!”
Samuel groaned. “I didn’t push her hard!”
“You still pushed her.” Bucky deadpanned.
Jamie was now fisting Bucky’s shirt, eyebrows furrowed and pointing at his brother over Bucky’s shoulder. “Me beat!” he declared like a judge laying down a sentence.
“No,” Bucky said firmly, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “You don’t get to beat your brother, even if he’s being a pain.”
“But me…” Jamie paused, searching for the right words, “Me say… no beat if Samu good. He not good!” he babble-yelled, arms flailing.
You came in just then, arms crossed, trying not to laugh. “What happened now?”
Bucky turned to you, still holding Jamie midair. “Your youngest just tried to teach our middle one a lesson with fists of justice.”
Jamie pointed again. “No push Natty!” he insisted.
You knelt in front of him, cupping his angry cheeks. “Baby, Mama and Dada handle the rules, okay? You’re not allowed to beat.”
Jamie huffed. “But me lub Natty…”
“And that’s why we talk, not smack, hmm?” Bucky said gently, finally setting him down.
Jamie sulked, arms crossed, belly sticking out, lips puckered in betrayal. “Me talk… loud,” he compromised.
Samuel peeked up from behind the couch. “I said sorry! Jeez.”
Jamie shuffled over to him, chubby arms now open.
Bucky watched suspiciously.
Jamie hugged him. “No beat. Hug.”
Samuel blinked. “Okay?”
Then Jamie slapped his head, not softly.
“Jamie!” you and Bucky yelled in unison.
Jamie blinked innocently. “Lub tap?” he whispered, completely unrepentant.
Bucky scooped him up again and sighed dramatically, whispering in your ear, “We’re raising a tiny mob boss with dimples.”
You laughed, “And a strong sense of justice.”
Jamie nodded between the two of you, proud of himself, “Me good boy. Dada no beat. Me beat.”
“No, kid…” Bucky groaned, holding his head.
Later on it started like any good-hearted parenting moment. At least that’s what Bucky thought.
Jamie had just tried to slap Samuel again, this time for apparently “breathing near his cheese puffs.” You and Bucky exchanged a look over Jamie’s head as the chubby boy stood on the couch cushion, glaring down at his brother like a tiny, furious dictator.
“That’s it…” you muttered, setting your mug down. “Time for the Talk.”
Bucky sighed and cracked his neck. “Together?”
“Together.”
You both sat down in front of Jamie, who crossed his arms with dramatic flair, puffed up his round cheeks, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Clearly, he sensed a lecture incoming.
“Jamie,” Bucky started gently, resting his elbows on his knees. “We gotta talk, buddy.”
Jamie blinked, then turned around, “Me busy.”
“Busy doing what?” Bucky asked suspiciously, turning Jamie back around to face him.
“Beat Samu!” Jamie declared proudly, like he was announcing an achievement.
Samuel, from the corner gave you both a ‘I told you’ look.
You leaned forward. “Baby, you are not allowed to hit anyone. That’s not how we fix problems.”
Jamie blinked again. “Me no hit. Me tap.”
“Jamie…” Bucky tried to keep a straight face, “you slapped your brother because he touched the table near your snack.”
“MINE!” Jamie shrieked, righteous fury bubbling.
“Yes, it’s yours…” you said calmly. “But we use words, not hands.”
Jamie looked between you two and said, completely serious, “Me use wods. Me say...no Samu... Then me beat.” He looked pleased with himself.
Bucky slapped a hand over his face.
Jamie stared.
Then grinned.
Then slapped your arm. “Beat fun!”
“Oh my god!” you cried, standing up.
“We lost him…” Bucky groaned.
Jamie began running in circles, arms flapping. “ME RIGHT! ME RIGHT! BEAT GOOD!”
Samuel stood on the couch cheering. “Somebody, anybody save me!”
Natalia wandered in, blinked once at the chaos, and turned right around. “Nope.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Bucky scooped up Jamie. “Time for the final trick.”
You followed as he carried Jamie into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” you asked, suspicious.
Bucky opened the fridge, pulled out the sad soggy broccoli leftovers, and looked Jamie dead in the eye. “Beating equals broccoli.”
Jamie gasped dramatically, clutching his round tummy like an old lady clutching her pearls, “NO!”
“Talk equals mango juice.”
Jamie paused, his mouth wobbled.
You knelt down. “Make the smart choice, baby.”
Jamie sniffled dramatically, no tears visible, then placed a chubby hand on Bucky’s cheek. “Me lub yoo...”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, although he almost fell for it. “No emotional bribery.”
Jamie dropped his hand and mumbled, “me no beat...”
“Mango juice for Jamie!” you smiled victoriously.
Jamie cheered, and as you turned to get the drink, he whispered to Samuel, “Only beat when no one sees.”
Samuel just shook his head. “Daddyyy he’s threatening me!!!.”
Bucky sighed, leaned against the counter, and whispered to you, “We’re raising a gremlin.”
You handed him the mango juice. “A well-fed, highly strategic gremlin.” Then you called after Jamie, “No more beating!”
Jamie raised the cup like a war horn. “Mangoo!”
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
268 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
My girl.
Warning- Soft dark Bucky and Steve, manipulate, spiking drink, planning and kidnapping maybe?, possesiveness, jealousy, 6.6k words.
You tug at the hem of the black dress Natasha had lent you, feeling a little out of your comfort zone but enjoying the way it hugs your curves. Even Thor, your ever-blunt best friend, had taken a moment to whistle in appreciation when he saw you. “Damn, Sweets, if I wasn't already taken...” he'd teased with a wink, earning a playful slap from Wanda.
You laughed, shaking your head, “Thank you, but come on lets go, Natasha is waiting for us!!!”
Now, inside the nightclub, you were mesmerized. The music was pulsing through the air, vibrating under your skin, and the flashing lights created an electric energy that makes it impossible not to get caught up in the atmosphere. Wanda and Thor were already pulling you towards the bar, but your gaze lingers, scanning the crowd.
That’s when you see them.
Two men, both wearing baseball caps, an odd choice in a place like this. One has short blond hair, his face sharp yet friendly even under the dim lighting. But it’s the other one who catches your attention. Dark brown hair falls slightly into his eyes, piercing blue beneath the brim of his cap. He’s leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable, yet there’s something about him... something dark, something intriguing.
You quickly look away when Thor hands you a shot, grinning widely. “To a great night!” he declares. You, Wanda, and Thor clink glasses and down the shots, the burn spreading warmth through your veins. Laughter bubbles out of you, as Natasha joins and drags you to the dance floor, and soon you're lost in the music, swaying and spinning with the beat.
Little do you know, the two guys in the caps were watching you.
The blond one, Steve, nudges his friend with a knowing smirk. “See something you like?”
Bucky’s lips curl at the corner, his eyes never leaving you as you move effortlessly to the music. The lights catch on your skin, your smile lighting up your face in a way that sends a spark through him.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark. “I do.”
The music pulses through your body, and you let yourself get lost in it, swaying and twirling under the flashing lights. Laughter spills from Wanda and Natasha as they dance beside you, their energy infectious.
But despite the music and the crowd, your thoughts drift back to those two guys.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you glance back toward where you first saw them, only to find the spot empty.
Your brows furrow slightly. You could’ve sworn they were there...
Before you can finish the thought, some movement catches your eye. They're closer now. Much closer.
The dark-haired one with those piercing blue eyes stands near the edge of the dance floor, his gaze locked onto you like he’s been watching your every move. The blond one leans in to say something to him, but Bucky doesn’t react, his focus entirely on you.
You swallow hard, a strange mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in your chest.
And then it happens, gradually at first. The more you move, the closer they seem to get. Each beat of the music shortens the distance until, before you realize it, there’s a presence behind you.
A warmth at your back.
Your heart stumbles in your chest as you turn, and suddenly, he’s there. The dark-haired stranger stands close, almost too close. The sharp angles of his jawline, the way his eyes pierce right through you, leave you momentarily speechless. Up close, he’s even more devastatingly handsome, and your brain screams at you to keep it together.
He offers you a small, almost sly smile and reaches out, taking your hand in his. His grip is firm but gentle, sending an unexpected thrill down your spine.
“I'm Bucky.” he says, his voice deep and smooth, laced with something that makes your breath hitch.
You blink, trying to ground yourself, “Y/n…” you manage, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks as you force yourself to meet his intense gaze.
The moment lingers, and with a shy smile, you turn back to Wanda and Natasha, hoping to gather your scattered thoughts. They’re both watching with matching grins, their expressions practically screaming “we saw that.” Your cheeks heat further, and you shake your head, laughing nervously.
It isn’t until you try to raise both hands to gesture at them that you realize something.
Bucky was still holding your hand.
Your eyes flick down in surprise, and when you look back up, there’s an unmistakable glint of amusement in his gaze. He gives your hand a light squeeze, as if testing whether you'll pull away.
You don’t.
Bucky tugs lightly at your hand, a silent invitation to follow him. Just as your feet begin to move, a familiar voice cuts through the music.
“Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?”
You turn to find Thor standing there, arms crossed and an amused yet protective look on his face. His gaze flickers to Bucky, sizing him up with that big-brother energy you’ve grown used to.
“Just to the bar.” Bucky says smoothly, but there's an edge to it, like he's not used to being questioned.
You introduce Bucky and Thor to each other.
Thor’s eyes narrow slightly, looking at Bucky, before turning to you. “Stay where I can see you, yeah?” His voice is light, but you know he’s serious.
You roll your eyes with a playful smile. “Yes, Dad!”
Satisfied, Thor gives Bucky one last look before heading back to Wanda and Natasha, who are too busy dancing and whispering to each other to notice much.
You finally let Bucky lead you through the crowd, feeling the warmth of his grip as he weaves effortlessly through the pulsing bodies. The bar is busy, but he navigates it like he’s been here a hundred times before.
“This is Steve…” Bucky says, nodding toward the blond guy in the cap you noticed earlier.
Steve offers a friendly smile, his blue eyes warm. “Nice to meet you.” he says, tipping his drink slightly in greeting.
“You too…” you reply, offering a small smile.
Bucky leans in a little closer, his voice low against your ear. “What’ll you have?”
You wave him off, feeling a little awkward under his gaze. “Oh, I’m good.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your answer. “C’mon, something.”
You glance around nervously, then mumble, “Uh… orange juice?”
The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Your brain practically screams at you, “Who on earth orders orange juice in a nightclub?”
Steve stifles a laugh behind his drink, and Bucky just smirks, his eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place. “Orange juice, huh?” he muses, signaling the bartender. “Classy.”
You groan, covering your face for a second, “I panicked, okay?”
Bucky chuckles, leaning a little closer, “Don’t worry, doll. I like classy.”
Your heart does an embarrassing little flip at the nickname, and before you can come up with a response, he hands you the drink. The way his fingers brush yours sends a spark of warmth up your arm.
Before you can sip, Bucky’s hand returns to yours, leading you further away from the crowded bar area. You find yourself in a quieter corner of the club, where some people are lounging, some are smoking, and the music feels a little more distant.
Your nerves kick in again, but Bucky’s presence is oddly steadying. His gaze never leaves you, like he’s figuring you out piece by piece.
“So,” he says, leaning against the wall, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”
You take a tiny sip of your orange juice, trying not to cringe. “Apparently... making excellent drink choices.”
Bucky laughs, and you realize then how soft his smile can be despite the dark edge lingering beneath it.
You glance around the dimly lit corner of the club, your fingers tracing the cold glass of your orange juice. The air here feels heavier, laced with smoke and whispers of conversations that don’t quite reach you. Bucky stands close, his eyes never leaving your face as if he’s studying every flicker of emotion.
“Do you smoke?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and rough, cutting through the haze around you.
You shake your head, offering him a small smile. “No, not really my thing.”
He nods, then tilts his head. “Mind if I do?”
You glance at him, the way he stands with such quiet confidence, and shrug. “I don’t mind.”
With a smirk, he pulls out a cigarette and lights it with practiced ease, taking a slow drag before exhaling the smoke in a way that somehow makes your heart stumble. The glow of the cigarette highlights the sharpness of his features, casting shadows across his jaw.
You find yourself mesmerized…again.
And then, in that same soft, dangerous voice, he says it.
“You’re my girl now,” he murmurs, his eyes cutting through the smoke to meet yours. “If anyone comes near you... I’ll fucking kill them!”
Your breath catches, and for a split second, your mind flashes to your ex. He never said anything like that to you. Not once. Your brain screams at you to stop thinking about him, to stay in the present, but it’s too late. The comparison lingers.
You shake it off, letting out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Is that so?” you tease, tilting your head. “Then prove it.”
Bucky’s lips curve in a way that makes something tighten in your chest. Without another word, he takes your hand, still warm from before and leads you back toward the bar. The music grows louder again, pulsing around you like a heartbeat, and just as you start to feel the weight of his words settle in, Thor intercepts you.
“Alright, sweets” Thor grins, grabbing your hand before Bucky can react. “Time to dance.”
You throw a quick glance over your shoulder at Bucky, but Thor’s already twirling you into the crowd. Wanda and Natasha cheer, and soon you're moving with them, laughing and letting the music wash over you.
But it doesn’t last long.
Before you know it, a familiar grip wraps around your wrist, not gentle this time. Firm, almost painfully tight. Bucky. He doesn’t say anything as he pulls you away, but the intensity in his hold is enough to make your heart race for a different reason. He’s not asking. He’s taking.
You barely manage to throw Wanda a glance before you’re dragged through the crowd again, your feet struggling to keep up with his pace. The air between you thickens, and it finally hits you. You’re not just his girl now.
Bucky Barnes is possessive about his girl.
Your skin tingles under his touch, and for the first time tonight, a little voice in the back of your mind wonders just how deep that possessiveness runs.
You don’t notice the way Steve watches from the sidelines, a slow smirk tugging at his lips, as if he knows exactly what’s going on inside Bucky’s head. As if he’s seen it all before.
Bucky’s grip on your hand loosens as he finally stops, and when you look up at him, expecting to see the same intense expression from moments ago, you’re met with something entirely different.
A soft smile.
It’s disarming, almost as if the possessiveness he showed just seconds ago never happened. His blue eyes are calm now, gentle even, and it throws you off balance. You’re not sure how to react. Should you call him out? Ask what that was about? Or just... let it go?
Your heart is still racing from how easily he dragged you away, but before you can decide what to say, Steve steps closer, and Bucky turns his attention to him. Their conversation is low, their words blending into the pulsing music, and for a moment, you’re left standing there, trying to process everything.
Meanwhile, back at the dancefloor, Thor is anything but calm.
“I don’t like it,” he says, eyes narrowing as he watches you with Bucky from across the room. “I don’t trust his intentions.”
Natasha, ever the observant one, nods in agreement. “Did you see how he pulled her away? That wasn’t... normal.”
Wanda, though quieter, presses her lips together in concern. “Y/n didn’t seem to mind too much, though.”
Thor lets out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the problem. Guys like him? They have a way of making it feel like it’s okay... until it’s not.”
Natasha’s eyes darken slightly, and she exchanges a knowing glance with Wanda. “We need to step in before this goes any further.”
Wanda nods. “I have an idea.”
Before long, Natasha and Wanda are weaving through the crowd toward you. You’re still standing with Bucky and Steve when they reach you, their smiles bright but calculated.
“We’re just gonna steal her for a sec!” Natasha says smoothly, looping an arm around yours before Bucky can protest.
Bucky’s jaw twitches slightly, but he nods, letting them take you. “Don’t take too long.”
You let them pull you away toward the restrooms, barely registering the way Bucky’s gaze lingers on you as you disappear into the crowd.
Inside, Natasha closes the door behind you, and Wanda immediately turns to you, her eyes full of concern. “Alright, spill. Are you okay?”
You blink, caught off guard. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, he dragged you off the dancefloor!”
You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Okay, yeah, that was... intense. But he’s…I don’t know, it’s weird. He’s intense but then... soft?” You groan, pacing a little. “And I’m not even drunk, so I can’t blame it on that, but part of me just... wants to be around him.”
Wanda’s eyes soften. “You sure it’s not just the mystery?”
You sigh, leaning against the counter. “Maybe? I don’t know. But I’m fine. Really.”
Natasha exchanges a look with Wanda, not entirely convinced. “Just... be careful, alright?”
Meanwhile, outside the restroom, Steve watches as Bucky takes another slow drag of his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the door you disappeared through.
Steve sighs. “Buck, you gotta calm down.”
Bucky doesn’t answer immediately. He exhales smoke slowly, his eyes still on the door. “She’s mine.”
Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms. “You barely know her.”
Bucky finally looks at him, and for a brief moment, there’s something dark in his expression. “I know enough.”
Steve watches Bucky carefully, noting the way his jaw tenses as he stares at the restroom door. The silence between them stretches until Steve finally breaks it.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Buck?” he asks, his voice low but firm. “What’s the plan here?”
Bucky flicks the ashes from his cigarette, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She’s mine.” he says simply, as if that alone explains everything.
Steve raises an eyebrow. “And?”
Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on the restroom door, his expression unreadable. “I’m not gonna rush it. She’ll come to me.”
Steve lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “And if she doesn’t?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “She will.” His voice is full of quiet certainty. “We wait. We watch.”
Before Steve can respond, the restroom door swings open, and you step out with Wanda and Natasha. You look more composed now, but your eyes instinctively search for Bucky. When you find him leaning against the wall, his gaze unreadable, something inside you twists unexpectedly.
Before you can take a step in his direction, Thor is suddenly at your side. “C’mon, sweets…” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you straight back to the dance floor. His grip is firm but not overbearing, a silent reminder that he’s keeping you close. Wanda and Natasha follow, shooting Bucky a subtle glance.
Bucky watches, his expression darkening as Thor keeps you firmly within the group, away from him. His fingers tighten around his cigarette before he flicks it to the ground and grinds it under his boot. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, but he makes no move to come closer. Instead, he leans back against the wall, arms crossed, his attention shifting to Steve.
“What’s the plan now?” Steve asks, watching Bucky carefully.
Bucky’s lips curl into a slow, almost dangerous smirk. “Wait and watch.”
Steve nods knowingly. “You’re playing the long game, huh?”
Bucky’s eyes follow you as you laugh at something Thor says, but there’s a flicker of something in your expression, something almost hesitant. “She’ll come to me,” Bucky murmurs, as if it’s inevitable. “She’ll start missing me soon enough.”
And maybe he’s right. Because as you dance with your friends, trying to enjoy yourself, you can’t help but steal glances in his direction. Every time you do, he’s already looking away, ignoring you as if you don’t exist.
And for some reason, that stings.
You know you shouldn’t feel this way. Thor and the others are just looking out for you, making sure you’re safe. But there’s something about Bucky’s sudden coldness that unsettles you. You can’t explain it, but a small part of you feels... bad.
Kindness.
It’s one of your biggest weaknesses. Your friends adore that about you, but they also know it makes you vulnerable. People can take advantage of it.
And as much as you try to shake it off, that little voice in your head wonders if Bucky is counting on that very thing.
You sway half-heartedly to the music, but your mind isn't on the beat or the flashing lights. Your eyes keep drifting to where Bucky and Steve are standing, and every time you see Bucky deliberately looking away, something inside you twists.
Natasha nudges you gently. “Sweets, stop.”
You blink, pulling your gaze away. “Stop what?”
“Being you!” Wanda chimes in with a teasing yet serious look. “You’re too kind. You always feel bad when you shouldn’t.”
Natasha nods in agreement, crossing her arms. “Kindness is great, but not when it keeps you up at night worrying about people who don’t deserve it.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t just switch it off, Nat.”
Natasha rolls her eyes but smiles knowingly. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Doesn’t mean we won’t try.”
They both mean well, and you know they’re right. But it’s easier said than done. Your kindness is part of who you are, for better or worse. And right now, it’s gnawing at you, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
Meanwhile, across the club, Steve watches you carefully before turning to Bucky. “She’s getting restless,” he says, sipping his drink. “You counting on that?”
Bucky smirks, tapping his fingers against the table. “Of course, I am.”
Steve exhales slowly, leaning in slightly. “Why her, Buck? There’s plenty of girls here tonight. Hell, there have been plenty of girls before her. What makes this one different?”
Bucky's smirk deepens, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “She’s not like them,” he says simply. “She’s got... a softness. But not weak. She’s got fight in her too.” He pauses, his gaze locking onto you from across the room for the briefest moment before he looks away again. “And she doesn’t even realize it.”
Steve shakes his head with a knowing chuckle. “You’re obsessed.”
Bucky’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more dangerous. “I don’t do half-measures, Steve.”
Steve leans back, watching Bucky with careful eyes. “Yeah... I know.”
Back on the dancefloor, Thor notices the way you keep sneaking glances in Bucky’s direction, the way your shoulders sag with indecision. With a heavy sigh, he leans down, his voice gentle but firm.
“Alright, doll,” he says, using the nickname Bucky had claimed as his own. “Go.”
You blink up at him in surprise. “What?”
Thor gives you a knowing look. “Go back to him. But stay where I can see you.”
A wave of relief washes over you, and you can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Thor.”
He ruffles your hair playfully. “Just don’t make me regret it, yeah?”
With a nod, you turn and make your way back toward Bucky and Steve, your heart pounding with anticipation. You don’t notice the way Bucky’s lips twitch as he watches you approach, like he knew this moment was inevitable.
Steve watches you approach with a knowing smile, nudging Bucky slightly with his elbow. “Told you…” he mutters, amusement dancing in his voice.
Bucky doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans against the bar, his expression unreadable as you finally reach him.
You stand there for a moment, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he doesn’t. He doesn't even look at you.
“Hey…” you say softly, but he doesn’t react.
You clear your throat and try again, a little louder this time. “Bucky?”
Still nothing.
Frustration bubbles up inside you, but you push it down, giving it one last shot. “Are you seriously going to ignore me all night?”
Silence.
Something sharp twists in your chest, and with a sigh, you take a step back. “Fine,” you say, your voice steady despite the sting of disappointment. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone, just like you want.”
Before you can turn away, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. The grip is firm but not rough but possessive, in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.
“I don’t like being ignored.” he says, his voice low and dark, his blue eyes locking onto yours.
Your breath catches in your throat. “I wasn’t ignoring you…” you murmur, suddenly feeling the heat of his touch.
His lips twitch into something that’s almost a smirk. “Apologize.”
You blink up at him, your heart racing. “I…what?”
“Apologize,” he repeats, his thumb brushing lightly against your wrist.
You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “Fine. Sorry, Bucky.”
Satisfied, he tugs you closer and starts leading you toward the dancefloor. You don’t resist, letting him pull you into the crowd. The music pulses around you, and before you can fully register what’s happening, his hands find your waist, drawing you flush against him.
There’s no space. None. His body is pressed firmly against yours, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest. The heat between you both is undeniable, and your mind is racing, screaming at you to think straight, but it’s impossible with him this close.
“Relax…” Bucky murmurs near your ear, his breath warm against your skin.
You try, but it’s impossible. His hands grip your hips, guiding you in sync with his movements, slow and deliberate. Your skin tingles under his touch, and every time your body brushes against his, your pulse spikes.
After a few moments, he leans down, his lips ghosting over your ear. “I wanna do something for you.”
You swallow hard, shaking your head slightly. “Bucky, there’s no need for that.”
He grins, and the playful banter begins. “I didn’t ask if there was a need.”
“Seriously, it’s fine.”
“Let me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
And then, without warning, he silences you the only way he knows how.
His lips crash against yours, stealing your breath and every coherent thought in your head. The kiss is firm, confident, and leaves no room for argument. Your hands instinctively find his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
When he finally pulls away, his blue eyes flicker with mischief, and he winks at you. “Told you I’d do something for you.”
You’re left standing there, breathless and stunned, as the music pulses around you, but all you can focus on is him…just him.
Bucky leads you through the crowd, weaving past dancing bodies and flashing lights until you reach a secluded corner of the club. The music is quieter here, the atmosphere darker, more intimate. You stand close, the space between you charged with something you can't quite name.
For a while, neither of you say anything. You shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you wait for him to speak first. Eventually, he does.
“I like you.”
The words are so simple, so unexpected, that they make you laugh. “Really?” you tease, arching an eyebrow. “Just like that?”
Instead of answering, Bucky takes a step back and, to your horror, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “I like her!”
Heads turn, eyes land on you both, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically reach for him. “Bucky! Shut up!” You hiss, tugging at his arm.
He grins, utterly unapologetic, and takes it a step further. “I REALLY LIKE HER!!!!”
You slap a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in mortification. “Okay! Okay, I believe you! Just be quiet, you goof.”
Bucky chuckles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Slowly, you lower your hand, and before you can say another word, he kisses you again.
This time, it's slower, deeper, less about teasing and more about something real. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, your palm resting over his heart. You can feel the steady, strong rhythm beneath your touch, and it does something to you. A soft sigh escapes you, and Bucky’s lips curve into a smile against yours.
When he finally pulls back, he presses his forehead against yours. “Come with me…” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your waist.
Your heart skips a beat, but reality crashes in just as quickly. “I can’t…” you whisper, shaking your head. “I came here with my friends. Thor won’t let me just disappear.”
Bucky’s jaw tightens, and for a split second, there’s something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. “I don’t take no for an answer, doll.”
Before you can protest, his lips are on yours again, stealing your breath, your words, your logic. You feel his arm tighten around your waist, holding you close, keeping you in his orbit.
What you don’t see is the way he locks eyes with Steve over your shoulder. There’s a silent exchange, a plan forming without words. Steve nods subtly, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knows exactly what Bucky is thinking.
You’re too lost in the kiss to notice.
You try to pull away, your hands pressing lightly against Bucky’s chest, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he tilts his head, a playful yet dangerous glint in his blue eyes. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” he says, his voice low and laced with something that makes your stomach twist.
Your eyes widen in surprise. “What? No, of course not!”
Bucky hums, unconvinced, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your waist. “Then why won’t you come with me? You think I can’t take care of you?”
The guilt hits you like a truck, and you immediately shake your head, your voice softer now. “Bucky, that’s not it at all. It’s just… my friends. Thor won’t let me go that easily, and I don’t want to worry them.”
Bucky stares at you for a beat, then his lips curl into a smile, his hands sliding up to cup your face. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, and makes a face, his eyes wide, mouth open like he’s about to devour you whole.
You burst into laughter, swatting at his chest. “Stop that, you’re ridiculous!”
He grins, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. “But you love it,” he teases.
Your laughter fades into a soft smile, and for a moment, you forget everything else. But what you don’t see is the way Bucky’s eyes flick over your shoulder, locking onto Steve.
Behind your back, Steve nods, the plan silently set into motion.
And just like that, you’re already one step closer to exactly where Bucky wants you.
Just as you’re starting to relax in Bucky’s hold, a familiar voice cuts through the moment.
“There you are!” Wanda’s voice is laced with amusement and just a hint of suspicion. She strides over, her eyes flickering between you and Bucky with a knowing smirk. “Come on, we’re not letting you disappear just yet.”
You sigh, reluctantly stepping back, but Bucky doesn’t let you go so easily. His hand stays wrapped around your wrist, and he tilts his head at you with a playful pout. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
You blink in confusion. “What?”
He leans in, voice dripping with faux hurt. “That’s why you’re not coming with me. You think I’m some idiot who can’t handle Thor.”
Wanda laughs, crossing her arms. “It’s not about you, Barnes. Thor’s just… let’s say, protective about his friends.” She glances at you. “Right, dear?”
You nod quickly, grateful for Wanda’s backup. “Exactly. I don’t want to cause drama.”
Bucky smirks, but there’s something sharp beneath it, something calculating. “Drama? Doll, I’m all about drama.”
You roll your eyes, about to respond when Wanda grabs your hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
Just as you turn to leave, something shifts in the air. Steve, who had been lingering nearby, subtly moves into position, blocking Thor and Natasha’s view of you both. The timing is perfect.
Bucky doesn’t let go of your wrist. Instead, he pulls you back suddenly, spinning you right into him. “Not so fast…” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.
Your heart stutters in your chest, but before you can process what’s happening, Steve casually bumps into Wanda with a distracted, “Sorry, miss.” causing her to stumble and momentarily break her grip on your hand.
In that split second of distraction, Bucky tugs you further into the crowd, his grip firm but playful, as if daring you to resist.
“Bucky…” you start, but his grin is all you get in response.
Steve watches from a distance, arms crossed and an amused look on his face. The plan was working.
And deep down, despite the warnings ringing in your head, you don’t really want to stop him.
“Bucky, what are you doing?” you whisper, breathless as he pulls you deeper into the crowd. The flashing lights dance across his face, highlighting the mischief in his blue eyes.
Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you. Soft at first, teasing, before deepening it with a possessive edge that makes your knees weak. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders to steady yourself, but your mind is screaming at you to get back to Wanda and Thor.
When he finally pulls away, his lips brush against yours as he murmurs, “Still wanna leave?”
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to regain control. “I have to go…” you insist, your voice lacking the conviction you wish it had. “Wanda and Thor are looking for me.”
Bucky’s grip tightens just slightly, his fingers tracing over your wrist. “Stay.” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
You shake your head, trying to find your footing in this whirlwind. “Bucky, I can’t just…”
He tilts his head, watching you closely, and then with that signature smirk, he says, “Just for a little while. We’ll stay in the club, I promise.”
Your resolve wavers, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to think straight. After a moment, you sigh in defeat. “Fine. Only in the club.”
Bucky’s lips twitch in victory. “Good girl.”
But what you don’t realize is that Bucky’s promise means nothing, not when he’s already made up his mind. While you’re distracted, his eyes flick over your shoulder to where Steve stands near the bar. A single nod passes between them, silent and calculated.
You may think you’re staying, but Bucky has other plans.
Just as you begin to relax in Bucky’s presence, the music pounding in your chest like a second heartbeat, a familiar voice cuts through the haze.
“There you are,” Thor’s deep voice rumbles from behind you. His expression is firm but not unkind as he reaches for your arm. “It’s time to go home, Sweets.”
You glance up at Bucky, feeling the tension in the air shift. For a second, you consider arguing, just a little, but something about the way Thor is looking at you makes you nod instead. “Alright, you say softly.
Bucky’s jaw tenses, but he doesn’t stop you. Not yet.
Just as you turn to follow Thor, Bucky appears at your side, holding out two glasses. “One for the road?” he offers, his voice smooth, his smile disarming. He hands one glass to Thor and one to you.
Thor eyes Bucky suspiciously before taking a sip. You hesitate for a moment, but under Bucky’s expectant gaze, you take a small sip too.
Before you know it, Bucky has his hand on your lower back, steering you gently away from the dancefloor. “C’mon, just for a second,” he says, his voice low and persuasive. “One last moment before you run off.”
You follow him, oblivious to the subtle exchange of glances between him and Steve.
The club lights flash around you, and you’re too caught up in the conversation to notice Thor’s steps faltering behind you. Steve quietly steps in, keeping Thor distracted just long enough for Bucky to guide you further away.
It isn’t until you reach the quieter edge of the club, near the exit, that you realize something is off.
“Bucky,” you say, blinking as you look around. “Where are we going?”
Bucky smirks, his hand firm around yours. “Told you, doll. I don’t take no for an answer.”
Panic rises in your chest, and you yank your hand away, taking a step back. “I have to go back to my friends.”
Bucky doesn’t let you get far. He grabs your wrist again, his grip just tight enough to make your heart race for an entirely different reason. “Apologize,” he says, his voice lower now, laced with something darker. “For trying to leave me.”
Your pulse hammers in your ears, and suddenly, the warmth in his eyes seems a little more dangerous. “Bucky…” you whisper, trying to pull free, but he refuses to let go.
Behind you, Steve stands with his arms crossed, his smirk never fading. He knows exactly how this will play out.
Your heart pounds as you take a step back from Bucky, trying to create some distance, but you don't get far. Your back collides with something solid, someone solid.
Steve.
His arms snake around your waist, holding you firmly against him. You freeze as he rests his chin lightly on top of your head, his breath fanning over your hair. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes your stomach twist, and you can feel the smug satisfaction radiating off him.
Bucky watches the scene unfold with a lazy smile, his eyes dark with amusement. “Relax, doll,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I already told you, you’re my girl now.”
You shake your head, your voice shaky but firm. “Bucky, you promised. You said we’d stay in the club.”
Bucky’s grin widens, his fingers reaching out to brush against your cheek. “Yeah, well... there’s been a slight change in the promise.”
You stiffen, your mind racing. Steve's arms tighten subtly, his hold secure but not forceful. Yet.
It’s clear he’s enjoying this, the way his body presses against yours, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You’re way too tense,” he says with a chuckle. “Loosen up, doll.”
You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Thor will come looking for me...”
Bucky’s expression softens into something almost pitying. “Thor?” He tilts his head. “Sweetheart, he won’t be coming for you.”
Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
Steve chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening just slightly as if to keep you in place. “Let’s just say... he’s taking a nap.”
Your stomach drops. “What did you do?”
Bucky waves a dismissive hand. “Nothing too bad, doll. He’s fine. Just a little... distracted.” His smirk deepens. “That means it’s just us now.”
Your pulse races as realization sinks in. They had planned this from the beginning.
Steve finally releases you, only to grab your hand with a firm grip, and Bucky takes your other hand, his thumb stroking over your skin in a way that feels both soothing and possessive. Together, they lead you toward the exit.
You glance back over your shoulder, searching for a way out, for Wanda, Natasha, anyone, but the crowd of strangers swallows the dancefloor whole, and just like that, you’re outside.
Under the cool night air, Bucky leans in, his lips grazing your ear. “Told you, doll. No one’s taking you from me. You are my girl now!”
Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @caplanbuckybarnes
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
781 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thank you for the reblog ❤️
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thank you so much ☺️❤️❤️
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
oh she definitely did 😂❤️
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thank you so much 😊❤️❤️
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
She made sure her daddy can see 😂❤️
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
His personal hairstylist.

Warning- Fluff, dad Bucky
The late afternoon sun poured in through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow.
You were in the kitchen finishing up some tea when you saw him, your husband, the ever handsome pain in your neck, because you can't say out loud about the soreness between your legs, sitting at the dining table, hunched over a few mission reports Sam had requested.
Semi-retired didn’t mean fully retired, after all.
Bucky was in sweatpants and a black tee, reading glasses perched on his nose, not that he’d admit they were necessary, scribbling things down with a pen as his hair kept falling into his eyes.
He blinked. Huffed. Blew at it. Ignored it.
Not once he asked for help.
You stifled a laugh watching him struggle, too stubborn to tie it back, too proud to ask for help.
And you weren’t the only one watching.
Natalia, perched cross-legged on the floor with her dollies, squinted up at her daddy like he was a particularly silly version of Prince Charming. She stood quietly, brushing her own hair back and murmured something to herself.
Then she got up, tiptoed to the kitchen, and reached for the little bowl you kept by the counter, her treasure stash of colorful hair clips.
You raised an eyebrow, but she smiled sweetly.
“Emergency!” she whispered like it was classified Avengers business. “Daddy looks blind.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as she grabbed her small brush and trotted off with purpose, bowl in hand.
“Daddy…” she said, standing beside him.
Bucky didn’t even look up, “Hey, baby.”
“You look like you can’t see.”
That made him pause.
He looked up and blinked as a pink butterfly clip hit the table.
Natalia held up her brush and clips proudly. “I’ll fix it.”
Bucky chuckled, setting his pen down and pushing his chair back just a little. “Alright, boss. Do your worst.”
She climbed onto the chair arm and carefully started brushing his hair, Bucky's hand instinctively went behind her back, to make sure she does not fall.
You leaned against the doorway, heart melting at the sight. Your tough, grumpy soldier, now surrounded by glittery clips and a daughter with her tongue peeking out in concentration as she pinned his hair out of his face.
A few minutes later, his hair was parted and neatly clipped back with an assortment of bows, butterflies, and one tiny watermelon.
“There!” Natalia announced. “Now you can see your boring papers.”
Bucky laughed, pulling her into his lap. “You’re the best, y’know that?”
“I know!” she said smugly, then giggled when you walked over and kissed both of them on their cheeks.
“Much better…” you said, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Now my handsome soldier doesn’t look like a golden retriever in denial.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, doll. I can still bench press you.”
“Sure you can…” you winked, giving him another kiss before walking away. “But only after our daughter finishes her makeover.”
The rest of the evening was filled with sparkly clips, stolen kisses, and a very stylish Bucky Barnes pretending he wasn’t completely in love with being his daughter’s canvas.
Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm
@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan
@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles
@emerald-writes @castielscaplan
@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3
@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis @zuri-767-666
@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch
@caplanreblogsfics @winterslove1917
@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah @ghalouha @sebastians-love @saranghaey @greatmistakes @baw1066
@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt
@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt
170 notes
·
View notes