#bucky hcs

[mrsmariebarnes]

• bucky barnes has known sacrifice. he's tasted it in the bitter winters of his past, carried it in the metal weight of his arm, seen it in the harsh truth of his reflection. a man out of time, a soldier built for war, he's given himself — his very essence — to a world that's demanded everything from him.

• he knows the stories, the narratives spun by the world, that the morally righteous thing to do is to lay oneself bare for the many. that's the narrative he'd once lived — offering himself up as a sacrifice for his country, for people he'd never know.

• but being the winter soldier, that chapter of his life that he struggles every day to reconcile with, it's shown him the world in its raw, unfiltered cruelty. it’s a world that had taken him and shaped him into something he never wanted to be.

• it’s a world that had tried to strip him of his humanity, his capacity for love, for gentleness. but it’s you who had brought him back, you who taught him that there was still beauty to be found amidst the broken pieces.

• there's something relentless in your love, something that can mend the most shattered parts of him, something that gives him a reason to believe in more than just survival. it's not about the good of many anymore, not when he has you by his side, your love painting colors onto his grayscale world.

• you are his world, his everything. you’re the warmth in his frostbitten world, the peace in his turbulent existence. the world may crumble, the stars may fall, but as long as he has you, bucky barnes will always have something to fight for. something — someone — worth every sacrifice.

• if he had to choose, he'd choose you. for once, the world can save itself.

[helahades]

bucky barnes… bucky…. bucky playing sports and wearing a baseball cap with his hair tied back under it and strands poking from the bun,,;bucky running across a field… bucky sliding in the dirt playing baseball… bucky barnes being slapped on the back by his team after winning them the game… bucky seeing a pretty girl in the bleachers and stealing glances and hoping to see her at the big party later:… bucky barnes playing college sports bucky being sleepy in class because of all his sports bucky bucky bucky

[buckyismybicycle]

Bucky as a gentle but stern dom? I can't think of him as anyone else ever honestly because he would thrive in that role. I'm a stucky but that who he is for anyone

I think this just might be my favourite Bucky of all time?? Like, he's got that caretaker side of him, worrying about Steve in their childhood, standing with him in back alley fights. Even after Steve was all serum'd up, Bucky was still watching his 6 because Bucky doesn't think that Steve is weak and needs his help - he simply doesn't think he could survive without him. So he watches. He cares for.

But the dom side grows that whole time too.

"I told you stay inside or you'd catch a cold." "But, Buck, I -" "No, Steve. I'll go get it for you, just tell me what you need."

You know, that kind of stuff. He's used to telling people to do things for their own fucking good. And he's also used to giving some commands/leading troops as a Sergeant, I imagine.

Then you mix in some of that aggression and power that Hydra's programmed into him - that feral, unbridled kind of power that's so different from his previous controlled strength.

Then you add that resentment for what they put him through, for what they made him put other people through.

And finally, the last ingredient: freedom of control. To make choices for himself. To be on the other side of the script for once.

You know what the ultimate declaration of love is? Steve absolutely, completing giving himself over to Bucky. Presenting himself, absolutely submitting himself. Telling Bucky "I trust you", which means the WORLD to him. Bucky, who is so used to hurting people and being overly careful *not to*. And here's Steve who can *take* it and even *want* it.

I just

**SWOON**

Fave Bucky. Forever gentle dom/loving service top Bucky who gets frisky and likes to manhandle his lover, whoever it may be. He teases and edges, and tests both his limits and his partner's.

I NEED TO LEAVE BEFORE I TYPE AN ENTIRE ESSAY (jk I've already written the essay in the form of every one of my fics lmao)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

croissant - send me a sfw request! 

grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader first kiss

a/n: you know, you know, us two we've been back in it with this dude recently 🫠

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist |  join my 10k celebration!

“So,” uncontrollable giggles bubbled out of you as you beamed over at Bucky beside you on the bench, “I was just wondering if maybe–…”

Not peeling his steely glance away from the ducks swimming through the park’s lake, “what?” he absentmindedly grumbled, “just spit it out, please.” 

“Can I, uhm…” your body practically wiggled as you finally asked, “can I kiss you?”

You could have counted on only one hand how many times you’d seen Bucky crack a smile in the time you’d known him. But as your fluttery words found his wind-chilled ears like an ethereal butterfly, you could now officially start using both of your hands. 

Twisting his gaze away from the patch of flora and fauna in the middle of the bustling city, Bucky smiled softly back at you for a flash before his fingers, which had been curled behind you and rested on the bench, then curved over the nape of your neck as he brought you close to meet him halfway.

His kiss was slow and soft, like sipping on a steaming mug of hot chocolate on a freezing day, his radiating lips seemed to warm you from within and conjure a soft sigh to seep from your lungs. 

“Yes, Y/n,” he gently pulled back, his grasp now cupped against your hot cheek, “of course you can kiss me. You can kiss me all you’d like.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[buckyysdoll]

— “𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥” —

જ⁀➴ — 18+ MDNI — summary: literally just sex; a/n: i edited this drunk at 3.30am in a hotel room, so i can only apologise; cw: sort of dark! bucky (eg brief choking), p in v, use of pet names “sweetheart, doll”; pairing: bucky x f!reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

The pounding of his cock was relentless, driving deep until he bottomed out in full. He retreated some inches — yielding little, giving less — and over again was the strong, hard length of him inside you. The only sounds in the room were lewd as he took his sweet time taking you, twin breaths coming heavy as you both tried and failed to regain a composure that just wouldn’t come.

You’d been at it for hours by now, and yet release could not be chased despite how hard you tried.

He’d groaned at the first slide of his cock into your warmth, and the narrative had been coming ever since — an endless stream. Who knew Bucky Barnes — the damn Winter Soldier — was so vocal in bed? Though if there was one person who wouldn’t complain it was you; you could barely form words as it was.

“Fuck” was the first word he'd said, though, and now was a mantra he could only repeat. It had been drawn out and lost in his throat but was now more assertive — he had taken control.

As if you’d ever not been at the mercy of his words and heated touch; as if anything else could ever rule you the same way that he could:

So damn absolutely.

For in an instant of him being within you, you had pulled him in so tight that you felt his cock strain, muscles tensing. You’d clawed at his back and Bucky had tried damn fucking hard not to come there and then; it was an effort to allow you to adjust to his length without letting his release spill inside.

The truth? You really just felt that fucking good. It seemed as though you had been made just for him.

It was because of this, all for this then, that you were now still lying spread on your back, wet thighs hot with your thorough arousal and the multiple times tonight you’d already come. You were so sore, so thoroughly ruined, that even a slight shiver of touch made you ache, but he’d have you in any way that he could until he thoroughly owned you.

He had told you as much.

But it was praise that now fell from those beautiful lips that were parted in the absence of breath; as he pushed further and deeper inside you, a litany of curses blessed the words that he spoke.

Bucky’s mouth was hot and wet in the curve between your shoulder and neck, stirring your nerves with each depraved word that he spoke into your skin like a prayer.

Like you were all he could see.

"Fuck yes, that's a good girl. Taking me so well, I’d think you're made for this cock." There it was again — that soft, soft praise. So warming that it heated both your heart and your core, too.

Indeed, the words were further pronounced with a harder, deeper thrust of his hips, and a spasm of pleasure flushed into your stomach at the truer, slanted angle of him in you.

When you started to clench on him, around him, the change was apparent and well known to Bucky; you were so close to finally coming again that as it neared you could barely even breathe through it.

For hours, you’d been edged and barely coherent with the need he'd openly refused, not deigning to satiate the ache between your legs and only wanting to build it.

You were fucking desperate.

It didn’t matter that your pussy had clenched on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth just before, holding your hips down despite your protests that the feeling was too much, that you just couldn’t bear it.

Neither did your body care that so too had it been him that had urged you to take his fingers, and you'd already come on his cock enough times that you craved to only feel that full again.

You needed more.

And so it was that since then he’d been edging you into a mess. Only good girls got to come so many times in just one night.

And good girls begged.

Bucky had taunted that even now, after coming so much, it wouldn’t ever be enough — you were so cockdrunk that he thought, why even let you have more? Your pleasure was something only he could give so freely.

And you hadn’t yet earned it again.

The quiet mocking in his voice was almost enough, and you were so so close that it hurt. But —

If you could just “hold it" like he'd ordered, he said, then would come your last reward. And as it happened you had, and this now was it:

His cock again, again, and again.

The splinters of memory from your drawn-out night were now interrupted by Bucky's voice again at your ear, his vibranium hand so cool in its kiss as it held to your throat, giving just enough pressure.

You were compliant in his arms and he knew it, adored it, soaked up every single second of submission.

"How can such a good girl also be such a whore for me, hm? You're letting me use you like this, doll, just letting me take you however I want.”

You couldn't say a thing, could only whimper. Thoughts surfaced and broke. The sure, steady feeling of Bucky inside you getting rougher by the minute had you so sensitive that the threat of release coiled up through your stomach before you could stop it.

It was a good job then that he noticed the look in your eyes, in your tear-stained cheeks. That your fractured, desperate whimper of "Please" as you clutched to his back was at last granted some mercy.

But first —

"Tell me who you belong to." His tone was commanding, pure masculine authority. Now though, so lost to heat, you could barely make his words out through too much stimulation. Your entire world had narrowed to the thick, hard length inside you as he pushed in to your warmth, pulled out. Again and again and again.

And oh, fuck. Oh God, you were close. So close to coming that you wanted to weep.

You might've even actually done it but no shock of tears fell from your heavy-lidded eyes, and then a sharp little pull at your skin was revealed as Bucky’s teeth at your shoulder, impatient.

It was just as much warning as you'd get this time, but then your mouth regained its power to talk. All at once you came to realise that you hadn’t yet replied; Bucky’s order — the command in his voice — had so far been ignored.

And he didn’t like that.

"You Bucky, just you. Just you. " God, you were so close again but he just didn't even care. Every time your sex clenched and Bucky’s cock twitched in response, he only pulled out every time.

Or almost every. Not anymore.

Bucky now needed that wetness to coat him, needed to feel you tight and warm around his cock as you came. Needed to let himself go to release in the one place on earth he ever wanted to, now.

And so your admission broke the bonds of his subtle control, and he just ground out “Say it again." You did, and repeated it over and again with each thrust of his hips, with each groan.

You meant it and felt it with each piece of your heart as you mounted that swift sure precipice, building up higher even still as the tightly wound coil of arousal in you threatened to spill.

And so, with breath hitched and hips rolling up to match his own, your body frantic with the need to come again even after so much you'd been granted, you clenched around his cock at last as your vision was drowned in white, all and only for him.

Dark spots pricked at your coherence until every part of you was fused with Bucky, your nails at his back a last reminder that he anchored you to earth as a shattering orgasm swept you up in its tide.

And didn’t let go.

It was only a mere second later that Bucky's own thrusts grew less controlled, and his breathing pitched lower and far more erratic as he pounded, hips rolling as he came.

An ocean of warmth descended in the space between your thighs, and you still clawed at his back with weak fingers as soft aftershocks wracked through you with the force of your release.

Spent, Bucky stayed in you long after both of your breathing had slowed, his mouth and tongue working softly to soothe the bold, purple marks his teeth had made at your chest. Time passed that could’ve been minutes or hours and you spent it in blissed-out silence, your head to his chest and his heartbeat calming beneath your ear.

It was your favourite sound.

The only break in the quiet was him saying in a whisper, “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” And with his hands stroking down through your hair in such slow, soothing moves, your eyes at last drifted closed.

The last thing you heard was once again that soft praise: “You were so good for me,” and then darkness.

✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

[buckys-metal-arm]

Marvels After Credit Scene that Didn't Happen but is Canon in My Heart:

So I really want a scene of one of the Flerkittens (white with blue eyes) to be wandering around the street meowing and then we see boots coming up to it and two hands reach out and then you see it.

The metal arm.

It picks up the kitten and walks off, maybe if you're feeling really fancy maybe a few lines of quiet "hey, hey, it's okay Sweetheart" or something like that and then BOOM we have Alpine in the MCU

Then cut to Thunderbolts and Bucky still has no idea that Al is a Flerken until they're in a fight and she gets attacked and Bucky is terrified they're gonna hurt his cat and then Alpine just gobbles them up and then like Yelena is like "JAMES BARNES WHAT THE FUCK"... Cut to Bucky looking equal parts horrified and impressed and just picks up Alpine and goes "uh...good girl?"

[appocalipse]

something good ⋆ bucky barnes

summary: bucky is about to go to war without confessing his feelings for you. you are about to watch him leave without confessing your feelings for him. that is, unless one of you gets up the courage to do something about it...

"I...need some fresh air. I'll be back."

Steve looks like he's going to argue with you as you push the chair out, but then you glance toward where Bucky disappeared in the crowd of people dancing, and Steve's face softens before he gives you a nod.

"We'll be right here," he says, pointing to your barely-touched drink. "Be careful."

The alley behind the bar is damp and quiet, cool from the rain earlier in the day but blissfully empty. You lean against the bricks and tip your head back, closing your eyes.

Steve was wrong — you should have stayed home.

He'd begged you to come out tonight; it wasn't just the two of them, he'd said, his eyes wide with hope. A few others had been invited, too, old friends who Bucky had wanted to see one last time before shipping out tomorrow.

And girls, of course. Girls with big smiles and bright eyes, who looked at Bucky as if they were hungry and he was a steak dinner.

To his credit, though, Bucky had asked you to dance first, and you'd said no. No, because it would have been impossible to act casually around him with your hands on his chest and his on your waist.

So, yes, you’d needed some fresh air after that. How could you not, when—

"Are you mad at me?"

You turn toward the voice that came from down the alley. Even though it's dark, you, of course, recognize him instantly, silhouetted against the weak light coming from inside the bar.

"Me? No, you—I'm not," you reply, your tongue feeling like it weighs three pounds. You attempt a smile. "What are you doing out here? You should be inside, enjoying your last night, no?"

Bucky shrugs and walks closer, but only far enough so you can see each other without straining.

"I was looking for you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Steve said you'd come out here."

"I'll go back inside soon, I promise. Don't worry."

He doesn't move except to kick a loose pebble away from his toe. "Why didn't you want to dance with me?"

Your stomach plummets at the question. He sounds almost hurt, and you wish you could explain yourself to him in a way that doesn't include blurting out your stupid feelings in the process.

"Uh...I don't know, I just...well, no reason," you stumble, wishing desperately that you weren't such an idiot. "I thought I'd keep Steve company while you...you know."

"Danced with the rest of them?"

You nod silently.

Bucky makes a scoffing sound before running a hand through his hair. "They're all the same."

"Okay..."

"It's not, uh, it's not what you think," he continues, taking a step forward, then back again as if he's unsure of how close to stand. "The girls — they're nice and pretty, sure, but...they're just not... I don't think they're my type, I guess."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, turning your gaze downward toward your shoes, suddenly finding it easier to look anywhere but at him. "Yeah, well, we better get back before—"

"Is there somebody else?"

The air in your lungs vanishes at his abrupt question, and you look up as your heart starts beating out of rhythm.

"Excuse me?" you whisper, surprised that you've even found your voice. "Somebody else?"

"Somebody that you...that you're seeing," Bucky says slowly, his words strained, as if every one causes him pain.

You stare at him for a second, hoping this is a joke, that maybe Steve put him up to asking these ridiculous questions — or maybe he's been drinking too much — because, surely, Bucky couldn't possibly be trying to ask you what you think he's trying to ask you.

"Bucky, let's just go back inside—"

"It's Steve, isn't it?" he cuts you off with the most absurd statement yet. His expression softens. "It's okay, really. If you are, I mean. He's a really good guy."

"Steve?!" You actually laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head until the shock fades away into incredulity. "Jesus Christ, no! I mean, Steve is...he's like a brother to me, what...what the hell are we even talking about?"

"But...there's someone?" he asks again, sounding less upset than he had a few moments ago.

"No, not—no," you say, slouching against the wall and shrugging halfheartedly. "There's no one. Honestly, there hasn't been since..."

"Since when?"

Since I met you.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and praying that a sinkhole will open up and swallow you whole. This has gone on long enough. "I don't know. It's...been a little while. I don't know what you want me to say, really."

"I just wondered."

"Okay, fine."

You start to walk back to the door leading inside, but Bucky moves so quickly that you run smack into his chest.

"Wait, just—"

He grabs your hand and holds it gently, thumb softly brushing along your knuckles.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected contact. You glance down at where he's holding onto you, then back up again, confused, curious, wondering if this is real and not some strange dream you'll wake up from any moment now.

You exhale with a shaky laugh when he lifts his other hand to your cheek and rubs his thumb across it, stopping at the corner of your mouth.

Slowly, so slowly, he leans in.

"Bucky," you breathe, his name soft on your tongue.

His forehead touches yours, and you reach up to rest a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Do you not want me to...?"

He's never been this close to you, but everything about the moment feels familiar — the heat radiating from his body, the light scratch of his stubble on your cheek, the smell of him surrounding you.

You lift your chin slightly. "I do, but..."

"Just..." You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips; he's so close now that they brush against yours as he speaks. "I wish I'd...said something before it came to this."

"Before what came to this?"

"That I'd have...asked you. Proper, like. Dinner, movie. You know, the way it shoulda been. Before I...before I leave."

You stiffen at the word leave, pulling back so that you can look him in the eye.

"Bucky..."

"I wish I would've asked you to dinner. Would've loved to take you to dinner," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Wouldn't that have been nice, doll?"

A small smile lifts the corner of your mouth. "It would've."

"It could've been nice, you and me."

"I think it could have been."

"Yeah?" he chuckles quietly, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of your fingers, then your palm. "I think it can still be. You see, I'm quite selfish. I'd like to go to war with something good to think of. Something — or someone — to come home to. That'd be worth coming home to."

"Like...Steve?"

It's a joke, of course, and Bucky, to his credit, does laugh, too. Then, he slips a finger under your chin and tips your face up toward his. You hold your breath as he dips his head to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Not like Steve. No."

The music from inside the bar becomes louder, a woman's voice singing softly, sweetly. Stars fading, but I linger on, dear...

"I..." You clear your throat nervously, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. "You better come back to me in one piece."

"You gonna be waiting for me?"

You smirk. "I mean, I already waited this long, so I might as well—"

The rest of your words disappear into his kiss. You gasp at the sudden, almost desperate press of Bucky's lips on yours, but then he brings his hands to the sides of your face and kisses you more gently, more slowly, more purposefully, as if he has a lot to say to you in this moment but words fail him and the only thing left to do is this — to kiss you, over and over, again and again, to say, with his lips, with his hands, with every inch of himself...that he'll come back to you.

You whimper as Bucky's teeth catch your lower lip and tug before letting go. He pulls back far enough to look at you, to see your swollen lips parted. "So...that means yes, right?"

"Yes," you murmur. You slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours. "It means yes."

[wintersoldiersoul]

Headcannons for when you have a bad day

- he notices immediately when you’re in a bad mood

- he sits down next to you and kisses your forehead and hugs you tightly

- asking things like “what’s wrong, my darling?” and “why are you sad, baby girl?”

- listening intently while you tell him so that he can figure out how to make you feel better

- he cooks your favorite meal for dinner (or gets takeout. whatever you want)

- he puts on your comfort show for you while you eat so that you can just relax and distract yourself from whatever upset you

- he’ll give you a long massage, taking his time to work the tension out of your neck and back

- “i’ll be right back,” he tells you with a kiss before disappearing into another room

- a few minutes later he comes back and leads you to the bathroom where he’s run you a bath with rose petals and lit candles

- “do you want me to leave you alone or should i join?”

- of course you want him to join

- when you get out he brings you one of his sweatshirts and your favorite pair of pajama pants

- he brings you a glass of wine (or whatever your fave drink is)

- bucky just wants to spoil you and make you forget about everything that’s upsetting you

- he’s constantly giving you kisses and stroking your arms

- he hates seeing you sad more than anything in the world

- he holds you so close you him when you eventually go to bed, whispering over and over how much he loves you

- even if your day was bad because of something small, he’ll still do everything he can to make you happy

[avonne-writes]

Random domestic headcanon: on hot nights, Gale tries to roll away from Bucky in his sleep, but Bucky scoots after him unconsciously, still trying to spoon. They often wake up sweaty and squished together on Gale’s side of the bed. Sometimes, when Gale wakes up grouching about this, Bucky pushes him on his stomach, rolls fully over him and just lies there. Gale either wrestles him off, falls back asleep with him in that position or moves against him in a way that leaves them both hot and bothered.

[hogans-heroes]

Struck with thoughts: When Gale is sick or hurt or otherwise vulnerable he can’t keep the stoic mask anymore, but since he developed that to protect himself he will get very scared when he’s vulnerable and unable to hide it. But he’s scared in a protective way. He panics if he can’t see the guys and is always begging to know if they’re alright, tell them not go outside, to lock the door. He grabs whoever ventures close enough with a grip so tight it hurts, and tries to shield them, hide them. Doesn’t work when he’s lying in his bunk but he tries. Flinches with every door slam and loud noise, tries to cover the nearest person or pull them back.

It kills Bucky and the other guys. Gale’s chest is heaving and his eyes are terrified and he’s burning up with fever. They try everything to get him to sleep and quiet his breathless pleading of their names, are they alright? Where are they? Even when he sleeps there are nightmares. The guys throw out all reserves and are always holding him, touching him, reassuring him. The only time he gets some semblance of good sleep is when someone (usually Bucky) lies almost on top of him, blocking him from the outside and anything that could trigger the fear. The weight and senses filled with another person somehow convinces Gale’s subconscious that he and the other person are safe. Extra points if they have to take turns doing this because Bucky is Not Ok about it all and almost collapsing too. Explore their own feelings about having their head clutched to Gale’s chest as he’s shaking, clearly trying to protect them even as he’s terrified and weak.

[ghostlyfleur]

♡ hot cocoa and movie night with bucky

[made by request]

[coffeeandbatboys]

Pet names: Marvel edition

Matt Murdock:

Sweetheart is most commonly used casually or when you're in public. Angel and Love are reserved for softer sleepy moments.

Bucky Barnes:

My man is still stuck in the 40s 😭 calls you doll casually. Sweetheart occasionally. He might pull out Darlin'.

Clint Barton:

Babe all the way. In comms, at home, everywhere. I don't think he knows any other pet names.

Peter Quill:

I feel like he's a babe guy too. Baby girl sometimes. Honey? Yes.

[bcolfanfic]

some young vets au slice of life just bc this au has my heart and i ❤️ my blorbos

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

croissant - send me a sfw request! 

omg would you want to do “kissing after conversations about how they’d be better as friends” from this prompt list with any character of your choosing !🫶

a/n: i am on my bucky brain rot these days, so i can't resist giving it to him

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist |  join my 10k celebration!

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you breathed, yet your face still didn’t move back even an inch as you shared the heated air in the sliver between you two, “it would be a bad idea to start something…”

“Really bad…” Bucky’s eyes flickered down to your lips, “really fucking bad.” 

And before you could even suck in your next breath, he’d seized the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss so hot it nearly scorched you. 

“It would just be way too messy,” he murmured in between pecks as his steely fingers twirled in the hair at the base of your neck, “if we gave us chance.”

As your leg swung over his form and you slid into his lap, “we’d just be better off as friends,” you sighed shakily as his lips began to wander down the length of your neck and over your thrumming pulse, “just friends.”

“Yeah,” he found your hazy gaze as his broad palms began to slide down the curve of your spine, “just friends.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[buckyysdoll]

— 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐜𝐬 —

જ⁀➴ — summary: self explanatory; a/n: fic song choice: “Slow Hand” — The Pointer Sisters -> i can imagine him just being your idiot and pretending to strip tease and singing along, for no other reason that it makes his wife laugh and there’s no sound in the world more beautiful; cw: allusions to sex, but otherwise just soft; pairing: bucky x f!reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

• “get your fucking hands off my wife” type of husband clodisiaiixkaioai

• or he brushes soft fingertips over your cheek and says quiet as death, “who did this to you?”

• bucky knows you can defend yourself perfectly well, so is more than happy to pin the bastard down and let you go for it, let you be feral 😌 supportive husband 💪🏻

• but that doesn’t mean he can’t be possessive as well, and though he tries to control it, it does still get between you. it’s just that he loves you too fucking much to know what to do with it, how to breathe through it —

• jealous!bucky with his arm around your waist in public, or coming up behind you to press a kiss to the side of your neck with his broad hands settled on your hips

• extremely protective, and most of all against himself; his biggest fear is who he was, what he could do and the threat it returning. And so that thought of hurting you — the risk of it pulled him away time and again. took him from your bedside in the middle of the night and went insisting that you shouldn’t have to do this, have to love him.

• because he just can’t let go of who he was like you did readily, and couldn’t yet see that loving was easy when centred on him; was as natural as breath.

• in bed, he does the cold feet thing but with his metal arm on your waist from behind, his hand on your bare tummy giving rise to a shriek that’s half laugh and half cursing your husband.

•BUCKY DOES THE HAIR TUCK THING BEFORE HE KISSES YOU, AND YOU KNOW BY THE LOOK IN HIS EYES WHAT HE'S THINKING, BY HIS CHANGED PITCH IN BREATHING YOU KNOW WHAT HE WANTS, AND HIS EYES WON'T LEAVE YOUR OWN BUT FOR YOUR LIPS, WHICH THEY JUST CAN’T STOP STRAYING TO

• i do believe he’d also be the type to channel aaron warner with a little “lift your hips for me love” 🫡🫠KCKIDIDKSNKSCKAKFKKSKXKKS

• bucky is obviously very touch-starved, but i think physical contact would definitely be his love language once he gets to know and feel and trust it, through learning with you. so then you’re touching in some way almost constantly, whether it be a hand held in public (or a throat held in private? *😏) because it just assures you both and keeps you steady, keeps you grounded.

• *as in like, this may sound weird, but i feel like he’d love to feel your pulse because it assures him that you’re here and that you’re safe? and even more so when he’s got you worked up, cos his heightened senses feel your heart rate pick up at his touch😭 so when you’re making out, his hand will come to rest on the curve of your neck, and he’ll slowly brush his thumb across the hollow of your throat as he’s getting drunk off kissing you

• so a hand on your thigh when sat together is expected, his thumb rubbing the same slow circles into jeans or skin in the same way that he does it with your hands held. or he’ll be holding your hand in public and then just randomly, absentmindedly bring it to his mouth and press a light kiss to the back of it

• he’s just so goddamn proud to be the man on your arm, and that 40s charm and courtesy with ladies hadn’t been erased from him like so much else had

• we all just know what he’d be like; as a boyfriend, as a husband, as an absolute gentleman.

• you get soft!bucky cos you’re the only one other than steve who ever tried to see the good in him; i-hate-everyone-but-you, grumpy x sunshine trope 🤌🏻

• although he still doesn’t think that he deserves you at all :’( so he often pulls away which leads to fights, and emotional make-ups.

• and these may or may not lead to inevitably slow + passionate sex where you’re both left shaking just from love for the other before you’d even gone so far as touch.

• and those nights end with your mutual tears as you show him just how much love you have to give, how much he’s worth. and so too do they threaten to fall as you give yourself over to his slow loving hands; over to his mouth and the feel of his skin as he shows you that to him, you are divine.

• in your relationship in general he needs frequent reassurance, and you’ll always give it gladly with no single question asked. after all, you both had scars that ran deep — you needed it from him just as much.

• and of course, where would we be without slow dances in the kitchen, which are somehow more intimate when dressed in his shirt than anything you’d done thus far without your clothes on. it’s in the way he cradles you to him by the songs that were custom to him in his youth, with one hand held in his against his chest and the other around you. it’s in him breathing in your scent from your hair, from the soft crook between your neck and shoulder as you softly sway and move, him exhaling in the place where he’d found home, your fingers finding his hair.

• it’s just a very soft love where you’re both safe and adored and accepted; met fully where you are, and not asked to change but to grow old together.

• because of his vibranium arm, idk why but i just feel that he’d love to pick you up — whether it be jokingly or tender. you fall asleep on the couch? he’ll lift you and carry you gently to bed. it’s something in the way his solid strength can keep you safe that he’s assured he can protect you, and that you trust him when so vulnerable.

• so too, though, will he hoist you up into his arms with a natural ease, and lay you down with kisses pressed to each part of your body he lays bare. then bucky whispers with that wicked half-smile, ‘you’re gonna regret that’ in response to something teasing you had said —

• oh, and how your sounding laugh made his heart leap.

• okay and this makes me melt, but bucky loves to cook for you and give you those date nights and perfect mornings-after you deserve. and even though that first dinner he made you on your first official ‘date’ outside the watchful gaze of the other avengers he did burn, every moment still was perfect because it was him, because he cared enough.

• he plans to bring you breakfast in bed, though the smell of cooking bacon and that coffee woke you first. on padding bare feet you enter the kitchen and are met with the sight of him with his back to you, standing at the stove with a wooden spoon in hand and that pair of pyjamas you’d bought him. the smile that touches your lips takes up your whole face, and you couldn’t hope to stop it. you come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist and there he softens, muscles settling into the shape yours take, as he has learned to trust a world that has you in it. and so then bucky smiles to himself to feel your touch; he turns, and he sees you’re in his shirt and loves you deeper for it.

• coming in for a good morning kiss is something inevitable, no choice to be made. The truth? You hadn’t believed in miracles until you’d met the Winter Soldier, and fallen for the man with the warmest of hearts beneath that old fabled ice.

• But he no longer flinched at contact, knowing touch could be beautiful when shared; learning that to love and touch could mean the whole world and no hurt at all.

• he just genuinely loves to take care of you, regardless of the hour or what it is you need.

• his sleepy voice just drives you insane and he knows it, he loves it; he presses the advantage. he’s teasing as he wakes up and the first thing he wants is you, seeing you lay so stubborn in pretending that the husk of his voice is not arousing, damn the man. so excuse my vulgarity in saying, but he’s some kinda *morning man* if you know what i mean 😌

• though then again, he’s a man for any goddam time of the day when it comes to his wife and her love

• but aside from all that, it’s like his voice was the sole sure light in your life; each time he spoke you felt the stir within your gut that said at long last, i am home. you find yourself waiting for the moment when he walks through that front door and you then breathe again as you eat, sleep and talk with the love of your life. and somehow life means something more than you’d ever thought it could all those years past, yet here you are. sharing home and hearth with the man who’d become your love and best friend all in one. He who’d dragged your heart back up from HYDRA’s raging hells.

• Bucky loves to be touching in sleep, so your back is always curved against his front, or your head’s on his chest. The first waking seconds of each day were spent like this: his fingers carding through your hair or running gently down your back, tracing shapes, wondering how on earth he got so lucky as then.

• thinking that if only he’d known just how good it could be, then he would’ve known just what he had been living for all those years in the cold, empty dark.

• comforting him in the predawn hours when nightmares break his sleep, and soothing him back to the rest that escaped him with soft fingers in his hair; or a cold damp flannel for the fever in his head that you accompanied with praise, with words of comfort.

• You take his bad days with his good, as he does you. There’s a silent understanding. Something that’s mutual and unsaid before it’s shared out in the open: how you both had pasts with HYDRA that left hollow spaces where life had once dwelled.

• And so he proposes one morning in bed, cos i can’t get enough of this scenario my god. you’re both just sleepy and he’s kissing you and his smile is lazy and content and he’s happy, and he just smiles against your lips and says “marry me” cos there’s only one thing that could improve upon that happiness, that joy. and you don’t know if he means it at first and it scares you just how much you want him to, but he’s here and he’s saying the words, and he’s never meant anything more in his life.

• The engagement ring that’s been sitting in his sock drawer waiting for the “right moment” is now finally aired to breathe, pushed lightly onto your wedding-band finger that you only see half-blind through unshed tears.

• should i have included dad!bucky hcs? or pregnant!reader hcs? IDK

✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

[beecanons]

better yet Loki or Bucky (marvel) with autism reader :3333

loki and bucky with an autistic reader!

loki~

doesnt fully understand it at first but once you explain a little about neurodivergences he catches on and will probably make a comparison to something from asgard

does all the research on it, learns what midgard knows about this and gets frustrated with the history of mistreatment and such.

has no shame in admitting he's learning about it just for you. but will ask you dont go around telling people about this side of him, especially dont mention it to thor or he'll never hear the end of it.

very observant of your behaviours, stims, sensitivities and preferences.

"dont pick that one, love, it has a texture you dislike" "..i warned you"

he will do whatever he can to help you with a meltdown, he has outlets for his own anger so hes more than ready to help you find outlets to avoid hurting yourself.

you spend hours talking, especially about interests. he's happy to have someone to talk with and listen to him and is more than happy to listen to you rant and ramble about your special interests

will summon a stim or texture object for you to fidget with if you need.

need to sit in a quiet place and de-stim? he'll find a dimly lt corner and sit with you, maybe read to you if you'd like.

extremely respectful of boundaries, listens when you struggle and does what he can to help be it communication or otherwise

pays attention to your ques when you need or cant stand physical touch.

if anything makes you insecure he'll compliment you on it or avoid comments on it if you prefer.

Bucky~

a little slow with wrapping his head around it, came from a time where there was a lot of stigma around high support needs autistic folk so he might have some things to unlearn and a lot of new stuff to learn.

tries his best to memorise your sensitivities and preferences but will mix a few things up.

off handedly remembers a lot of details you dont expect him to catch onto, especially when it comes to how you communicate.

will come up with nicknames based on comparing your behaviours he finds cute with certain animals who have the same behaviours.

if you like organizing things hes a mess and never remembers where you put things and has to ask every time because hes used to chaotic order.

picks up on your stims and even starts doing a few himself without realizing.

"hey, fruit bat, where'd the keys go?" "...obviously by the door, right"

loves going to the movies with you but makes sure you get a good seat in the back not too close to the speakers or too close/far from the screen so you arent over stimulated.

stops wearing cologne because youre sensitive to scents and he doesnt want to give you a headache

need something cold/smooth to calm down/relax? you can hold onto his metal arm

isnt sure how to handle your meltdowns but does what he can to help you, breaths with you if you need it maybe even has you rest your head on his chest to help you calm down when its over.