#sebastain stan

[barnesnatts]

Sorry girls, but this man drives me crazy.♡♡♡♡

[hellsburners]

i'm so horny help

[vbecker10]

I Kissed Her

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) established relationship

Summary: Bucky went on a short mission and when he comes home he's distant and anxious which makes you nervous that something horrible happened in the field. You reassure him that he can talk to you and he opens up about how he needed to pretend he was married to his ex girlfriend, Natasha, for their mission and he kissed her.

Warnings: angst... Bucky feeling guilty and feeling like he cheated (but he didn't, it was purely for their cover story), Bucky being afraid you won't want to be with him anymore, Natasha being a horrible and petty person (sorry, that just sort of happened but I usually really like her)... fluffy ending 😊

A/N: I'm sorry for this one but I'm pretty stressed out from life so you're getting Bucky angst 💚 This is a spin on the fake marriage scenario while on a mission so I hope everyone likes it!

Your phone goes off and you read the automated notification from SHIELD for all nonessential personnel to clear the landing area for the incoming jet. Jumping up from the couch, you grab your phone and slip on your shoes. The only jet that was out was the one Bucky, Steve and Natasha had taken for their mission. You pull your door shut and call Bucky, groaning impatiently as you listen to it ring over and over.

Bucky's been gone for three days and two long nights. Unfortunately, you hadn't been assigned as an analyst for that mission so you weren't told where he was going or when he'd return. All you know is that you miss your boyfriend and you can't wait to see him again.

Bucky finally answers as you are deciding if you should hang up and text him. "Hi," he says with little enthusiasm which causes your smile to falter slightly but you try not to let it affect your mood. You know he's probably tired, he never sleeps well when he's away and neither do you.

"Hey Bucky," you say cheerfully, hoping your excitement will be contagious, "I heard the jet landed so I was hoping that meant you were home."

"Yeah, we just got in," he answers and you can hear people talking in the background. "Sorry I didn't text you." You get into the elevator and push the button for his floor.

You're anxiety rises as you begin to worry if he didn't want you to know he was back home yet for some reason. Typically, Bucky would text or call you as soon as possible to let you know he was on his way back and he couldn't wait to see you.

"Can I come by to say hi?" you ask unsure of his mood or what's affecting it. "I'm sure you're tired but I really missed you."

"Sure," he agrees to letting you visit.

You wait for him to tell you he missed you over the last few days but when he doesn't you ask, "Bucky are you okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "Sorry, just a lot on my mind from the mission."

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute," you tell him.

"Okay," he responds then ends the call before saying goodbye.

You look down at your phone as your heart beats faster in your chest. Something really horrible must have happened while they were on the mission, you can't help but think. Bucky didn't sound like himself and it worried you immensely.

You knock on his door and it opens immediately, he takes a step back to let you in. As soon as you are inside, you put your arms around Bucky without saying a word and the super soldier hugs you back tightly, almost as if he will never let go. The two of you stay like that silently for a few moments, you close your eyes and try to relax as you listen to his breathing. He leans down to kiss your forehead lightly but before you can return the kiss, he releases you from the hug and takes a step away.

"Bucky..." you start and his eyes drop to the floor, there's no hiding how anxious he looks. His metal hand flexes slowly and you ask him, "What's wrong? Did something happen on the mission?"

He nods a little at your second question and your mind races as you close the distance he created between you both, "Did Steve get hurt?"

"Steve and Natasha are fine," Bucky answers and you breath a little easier. You know important Steve is to him as a friend but you honestly you hadn't even thought something might have happened to Natasha too. Even with all the awkward tension between you and the spy, you were glad she was okay also. If no one was hurt, what else could have happened, you wonder to yourself.

"I need to shower then we can talk, okay?" he asks and you nod then he adds, "I don't want you to hear about any of this from her."

"I'll be here when you're ready," you offer him a small smile to reassure him you aren't going anywhere. You stand by his front door as he turns and walks into his room, closing the door. Letting out a nervous sigh, you take a seat on his couch and hold one of the pillows tightly to your chest as you look around his living room. Your focus settles on a picture of the two of you sitting on his end table from when you first started dating six months ago. A smile starts to spread across your lips when you remember how much fun you had at Bryant Park with him that day but then his words echo in your mind.

'I don't want you to hear about any of this from her,' he told you. He obviously meant Natasha but what was he talking about?

Natasha all but refuses to speak to you unless it is specifically about official SHIELD business and you are more than fine with that. His ex girlfriend has made no attempt to hide how much she dislikes you or your relationship with Bucky. The spy still blames you for Bucky leaving her even though you had barely known him when he ended their year long relationship. You and Bucky didn't begin dating until a few months later but you were never quite able to escape the numerous rumors that spread through the Tower. Bucky ignored all the gossip easily enough but you found it harder to shake the accusing whispers that you started your relationship with Bucky before he ended things with Natasha.

You lift your head when you hear his door open and watch quietly as Bucky sits next to you on the couch. His hair is still wet and he tucks it behind his ear when he looks at you. Bucky's eyes met yours and he says, "I know I need to tell you what happened but I'm afraid you'll hate me."

Your heart beats faster and you ask, "Why would I hate you?" He looks down and you move closer to him, taking his right hand in yours.

He shakes his head instead of answering you and squeezes your hand, "You know how much I love you, right Y/N?"

"I love you too," you tell him then take a deep breath and force yourself to ask, "But are you breaking up with me? Cause this feels-"

"What? No!" he says quickly as he cuts you off. "I'm just scared you're going to leave me when I tell you what happened with Natasha."

"I don't understand..." you start then bite your lip as your mind begins to put together the very few pieces you have. Bucky was away on a mission with his ex girlfriend and now he's distant and nervous and afraid you're going to hate him, you think as you grip the pillow next to you tightly. Natasha flirted with him every chance she could, you had seen it yourself dozens of times because she seemed to really enjoy doing it right in front of you. Had he finally given in while he was away on the mission?

"Bucky," you clear your throat and try to prepare yourself to ask something you never thought you'd have to ask him. "Did you cheat on me with Natasha?"

He sighs deeply and you fight to hold back the tears you can feel wanting to fall. "I don't know," he says and you look at him in confused silence. "No, I mean... I don't think so but-"

"You don't know!?" you ask harshly, unable to contain the mixture of emotions that flood through you. In an instant you feel hurt, betrayed, confused, angry and so many other things you can barely think straight. You pull your hand free from his and stand up, "How could you not know? You either did or you didn't."

"It's complicated," he says as he looks up at you from the couch. "Please, just let me explain," he reaches up and takes your hand.

You let his metal fingers grip your hand gently as he pulls you back down on the couch. "Fine," you mumble and quickly wipe away a single stray tear that runs down your cheek.

"I didn't tell you I was back yet because I needed to think-" he starts to explain.

"Of an excuse for cheating on me?" you interrupt him and let go of his metal hand.

"No," he shakes his head. "Just..." he sighs deeply, "Just listen please? I want to tell you everything."

You nod and sit facing him with your arms crossed over your chest. You can't imagine what he could possibly tell you that would make the feelings swirling inside of you go away but you're willing to hear him out.

He starts at the beginning, "We went to Germany, SHIELD found a high stakes poker game that a lot of high ranking Hydra officers attend on Friday nights. Natasha, Steve and I went undercover using those nanotech masks from Stark."

You look at him quietly, waiting for him to get to the point.

"Agent Hill worked up a cover story to get us in the game," he explains. "I was a wealthy arms dealer from Romania, Steve was my bodyguard and Natasha was my wife. We were just supposed to gather information, see who was there so SHIELD could decide who to go after next."

"Okay..." you say as he rubs his hands together nervously and describes every detail of the mission.

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

Steve knocks four times rhythmically on the metal door and waits for the small window to slide open. "Hail Hydra," he whispers to the dark figure who slams the window shut then opens the door. Bucky let's out a small sigh of relief knowing the previously gathered intelligence was correct.

Natasha smiles up at Bucky, holding onto his arm as they walk through the door followed closely by Steve. Steve looks around the room, his dark sunglasses capturing images of everyone he sees and sending the information back to analysts at SHIELD. The three of them are greeted by a well known Hydra officer, Captain Marc Burwell, and are escorted to a poker table in the middle of another, much less crowded room.

"Your wife can wait in the other room," Burwell says to Bucky as he unbuttons his black suit jacket and takes a seat at the table.

"She stays with me," Bucky responds with a smirk. "She's my good luck charm."

Burwell's attention shifts to the plunging neckline of Natasha's dress when she leans down to place a soft kiss on her fake husband's cheek. "If I had a wife that looked like yours, I'd never let her out of my sight either," the man chuckles as his eyes roam over the spy's body. Her long, shimmery black dress reveals a high slit when she moves to sit on Bucky's lap sideways, her arm resting around his neck.

Bucky looks up at the man, his jaw tightening, "Keep looking at my wife like that and I'll remove your eyes myself."

Natasha giggles and plays with her necklace, adjusting the pendant as it connects to the numerous cell phones in the room. Steve takes a step forward, standing just behind Bucky as he folds his arms and stares at the now very nervous captain. He clears his throat and apologizes before excusing himself quickly.

The dealer takes his position at the head of the table and the rest of the players sit around Bucky. He checks his watch to ensure it's transmitting the conversations of those close to him as the first hand is dealt.

"Good luck baby," Natasha says as he picks up his cards and he smiles in return. She kisses his cheek again, this time leaving a light lipstick mark and she wipes it away, "Oops."

He clears his throat and whispers, "They already bought that we're married, you can ease up with the kisses." He moves his free hand so it barely rests on her lower back while Steve stands behind him in silence.

"Come on baby," Natasha whispers in response. "Hold me like you want me, like you used to."

Bucky chuckles as if she said something flirtatious and runs his fingers up and down her back slowly. He looks at her as if to ask if that was better and in response, she presses her lips to his then rests her head on his shoulder.

He tries to ignore the kiss, focusing instead on the cards in his hand and the bets being placed. SHIELD wasn't too concerned about Bucky winning or losing so long as the information was gathered but he needed to at least keep up with the other players. While he waits for the players to place their bets, his mind wanders to his previous relationship with Natasha.

It had started purely because they were paired together so often on missions. Pretending to date or be married to each other over and over had convinced them that a real relationship would work. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and it took Bucky a long time to voice how unhappy he was to Natasha. She was dismissive and ignored his concerns which finally caused him to leave her. It was the best decision he could have made, because he found someone a few months later who truly made him happy, you.

Serval uneventful hands later, Bucky orders a drink from the waitress as his fingers trace small circles on the exposed skin of Natasha's arm. The quiet woman places his drink on the table in front of him but he makes no move to pick it up as he examines his cards. Natasha smirks and lifts the glass to Bucky's lips, "Here baby."

"Thanks sweetheart," Bucky says with a smile as he cringes internally after he takes a drink. He had always hated when she called him 'baby' while they were dating. He wasn't sure why he didn't like it but he had asked her not to do it several times and she never listened.

Without warning, Natasha presses her lips to his and for a moment he forgets they are pretending to be married. Bucky pulls back slightly to separate from her but she only smiles in response, running her fingers through his hair while her other fingers trace the rim of his glass.

"Need another drink?" she asks and he nods, not wanting to draw the attention of the others at the table. Natasha lifts the drink to his lips again then just as she pulls it away, she kisses him again.

Bucky closes his eyes and kisses her back, unsure of what else to do in the moment. His mind fills with images of you but he can't trick himself into thinking you're here instead of Natasha. When she finally breaks the long, deep kiss she giggles and places the empty glass back on the table.

He's unable to focus and folds his cards then plays two more hands, losing both. At the end of each hand, Natasha kisses him and he's forced to kiss her back to keep their cover in tact. After the two loses, Bucky wins a large pot and he reaches across the table to gather all of his chips with a smirk. When he sits back in his seat, his fake wife presses her lips to his in celebration.

As the dealer is shuffling, Steve receives word through his ear piece that SHIELD has enough information. He taps Bucky's shoulder and leans down to whisper that they can leave, sending a wave of relief through him.

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

"I couldn't wait to get back on the jet and see you again," he says, finally looking up at you.

"But you didn't call or text me," you remind him.

"I know..." he pauses. "Like I said, I was trying to think."

"About what?" you ask.

"About if what I did was wrong or not," he says and you realize he was being serious when he said he didn't know if he cheated. "Natasha sat with me in the back of the jet while Steve flew us home," he explains. "She asked me if I wanted to continue where we left off then tried to sit on my lap again. When I told her no, she got really upset. She told me she couldn't wait to tell you how much fun the mission was and by the time she was done you would never forgive me."

"But... you didn't do anything," you tell him.

"I kissed her," he says with a sigh.

"Right, but you only did it because you had to," you remind him gently.

He nods quickly and you move closer to him on the couch, taking his hand and he squeezes it. "I know it was just for our cover story but she got in my head while we were coming home. Natasha kept telling me I kissed her like I used to when we were dating and that she could feel how much I still cared for her," he says.

"You still-" you start to ask and almost pull your hand free from his but he keeps his fingers intertwined with yours.

"No," he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. "No, Y/N, I don't have any feelings for her. I haven't since before you and I started dating, you know that," he assures you and you nod. "It was just something she was going to tell you to drive a wedge between us." He sighs and mumbles under his breath, "I think Steve's right, I'm an idiot."

You can't help but agree, "You are an idiot."

He looks up at you but doesn't say anything.

"Bucky," you cup his cheek, still holding his hand tightly. He breaths deeply, preparing himself for the worst when you smile and his eyes fill with confusion. "You got me all stressed out and nervous because your ex girlfriend is crazy," you say at you breath a little easier. "I already knew that."

"I... what?" he asks.

You let out a little laugh at his reaction, "Did you want to kiss her?"

"No," he answers quickly.

"Did you enjoy kissing her?" you ask.

"No," he answers again and shakes his head.

"Do you wish you were with her instead of me?" you already know the answer to that one but you want to prove a point.

"Absolutely not," Bucky lifts your hand and kisses the back of it.

"So that means..." you start and give him a second to catch up.

He smiles a little, "It wasn't cheating?"

"I don't think it counts," you tell him honestly. "It's like if you were an actor and had to kiss someone for a role. You were just doing your job, right?"

You watch him breath a heavy sigh of relief, "That's what Steve said when we landed. He was listening to pretty much everything she said and he told me I really needed to talk to you before she did."

"I think you need to listen to Steve more often," you tell him and he nods.

"I'm sorry," he says and you move closer to cuddle against him. He wraps his arms around you and you feel him relax for the first time since he left.

"It's okay, I still love you," you look up at him with a smile.

He smiles in return, "I hope so because I love you more than anything." He leans down to kiss your lips, cupping your cheek lightly. You close your eyes and kiss him back, running your fingers through his damp hair.

When you pull away, you tell him, "That doesn't mean I'm thrilled about this whole thing. I mean, I understand why you had to do it... I just really wish it had been anyone else. Natasha doesn't seem like she's going to give up on trying to ruin our relationship any time soon."

"She probably won't but honestly I don't think it's because she wants me back," he says. "I think she just hates that we're happy."

You rest your head on his shoulder, "Just keep being honest with me like this and we'll be okay. Maybe... phrase things a little better?"

He chuckles and nods, "I'll have Steve prep what I should say for next time."

You giggle, "Next time you should just pretend you and Steve are married and she's your bodyguard."

He smiles and plays with your hair, "I'll ask Agent Hill about that."

"Wait, really?" you ask sitting up a little.

He laughs, "No. I'm not kissing Steve."

"Lame," you smile and kiss him again.

"I'm sorry," he says with a smile, keeping his arms around you tightly. "Can you stay the night? I can never sleep without you."

"I think I can do that," you agree easily.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[elkleggs]

[wintersoldiersoul]

Void

Warning: Thunderbolts spoilers ahead!!!

One second, you were sitting on your couch scrolling on your phone. But the next, you were trapped in a loop of your worst nightmares. It was like you had been sucked into your past, forced to once again experience the pain and trauma that had shaped you. You wandered from room to room, seeing the worst moments of your life play out over and over again. This was hell.

But then, just as suddenly as you had been taken in, you were back. Still relaxing on the couch, a TikTok playing from your phone that had fallen to the ground. Something wasn’t right. The world wasn’t right. 

You grabbed the remote, flipping to the news as fast as possible. But you never expected to see what you did. On the screen, there was Yelena, Walker, Ava, and a few other people. But the person that your eyes fixed on immediately was Bucky. Your Bucky. There he was, your boyfriend, the love of your life, standing as stoic as ever as Valentina announced that you were looking at “your new Avengers.” Your blood ran cold. What the hell just happened? If you had been sucked into a darkness of your own trauma, you couldn’t even imagine what had just happened to Bucky. 

The second that the news cast cut from them, you were calling his phone. You hadn’t seen him in a week with him spending his time back and forth between your Brooklyn apartment and his home in Washington DC. The phone rang and rang and each time you got his voicemail, you called again - hoping and praying that he would just pick up the damn phone. 

���James, I swear to god if you don’t call me right now-” you spoke sternly over his voicemail. But as the words were leaving your mouth, the front door opened. Bucky’s frame filled the room and you immediately hung up the phone, running towards him. He looked…defeated. Cuts on his face, his long brown hair messy. And there was something behind those blue eyes. Fear, pain…anger. “Bucky,” you whispered, almost afraid to startle him. 

“I’m fine,” he spoke, avoiding your eyes. “I’m fine, I just… need to call Sam.” He started to walk past you but you wouldn’t have it. You grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “James,” you said softly. 

He jerked out of your grip and continued walking away. “I’m fine, Y/N,” he muttered gruffly before disappearing into his office. Your heart split in two as you watched the door shut. You knew that he wasn’t good with emotions, with opening up. In the years you had been together, he had only really ever let you see him break twice and it was after nightmares. If what everyone was saying online was true, that all of New York had disappeared into a void of their worst memories, you knew that Bucky was the farthest thing from fine. But you also knew that you couldn’t push him. 

Reluctantly, you settled back onto the couch. You hoped that he would come back out soon. And he did, about 20 minutes later. “Wow,” he said with an unnatural nonchalance. “What a day, right?” 

You looked at him. “Sounds like you have a lot to tell. New Avengers? You’re going to be on a new team of Avengers with John Walker?” 

He shrugged, sitting down next to you. “Just kinda happened.” You had so many questions swirling through your head but you didn’t know how to begin to ask. “You okay, baby?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Y-yeah. I’m okay. I’d like to know what the fuck just happened, but I’m okay.” 

He filled you in. On the Sentry, the Void, Valentina. How him and his new team had fought like hell to bring Bob back to himself. As he finished the story, you were quiet. The only thing that you wanted to ask him was if he was okay.

“Bucky…” you whispered. He met your eyes, silently begging you to not ask. He knew that if you asked if he was okay one more time, he wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Are you oka-”

“Stop,” he cut you off. “Y/N, baby, please. Please don’t ask me that.” he tried to keep his voice steady but the quiver was undeniable. You moved closer to him, looking into his eyes and tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. 

“You don’t have to be strong around me. It’s okay.” 

Your words broke him and he finally let out a choked sob that he had been holding in for hours. Ever since he had gotten lost in the void and had re-lived his years as the Winter Soldier. All of the people he killed. The Starks, Yori’s son, innocent civilians that had gotten in his way. He had seen Zola and Pierce poking and prying at him. He had felt the electricity of the shock therapy that they used to wipe his brain. He heard his own screams of protest against the trigger words. He felt every single ounce of pain and fear that he had been put through for 70 years. And despite how far he had come, he couldn’t deny the effect it had on him. 

At the sound of his cry, you immediately wrapped your arms around him, letting him bury his head into your neck. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” you repeated like a prayer, just hoping that your words were getting through to him. You needed him to know that he was safe and that he was loved and that you were there. His sobs only grew as the minutes passed by, his grip on you getting tighter, as if he were terrified that you would disappear. His breathing grew faster and faster until he was fully hyperventilating. 

“I need you to try to breathe, baby,” You whispered, stroking his hair gently. “Can you try to match my breathing? Please?” You took a deep breath and he followed, giving his best attempt at having a steady stream of air flow through his lungs.

You continued to breathe together until he had calmed down enough to speak. “I- I thought I was passed it.”

His words break your heart. “Bucky… you experienced something traumatic for decades. Have you made incredible progress? Yes. But are you allowed to still feel the pain, especially when you were just sucked into a void where you were forced to relive it? Absolutely. You can’t beat yourself up for this. Please, please just give yourself some grace.” 

He looked into your eyes. He didn’t understand how someone like you, so kind, so gentle, could ever want him. He didn’t understand how he could have possibly gotten so lucky when he had done so many horrible things. “You’re so good,” he looked into your eyes with such sincerity that it nearly broke your heart. 

You gazed back at him and took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips. His eyes were red from his tears, somehow making the blue pop even more. “So are you.” You spent a quiet moment between the two of you, the love and compassion that you shared floating in the air. “What can I get you? Water? Food? Tea?” All that you needed was to take care of him.

“Uh, tea sounds nice,” he said. He would never get used to this. To you taking care of him and genuinely caring. Whenever you offered to do something for him, his gut reaction was to say no, to tell you that you “didn’t have to do that.” But right now, he didn’t have the energy. Maybe he was selfish but all that he wanted was to be taken care of. 

To you though, it wasn’t selfish at all. Although you hated the circumstances, you were content to take care of him. So you made your way into the kitchen and put on the kettle. You kept an eye on him as you waited for the whistle, watching as he stared off into space. He had so much on his mind. 

You brought him a mug a few moments later. “Here, baby.” You sit down next to him, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder. “I love you, you know that?” 

He smiled softly, the intense pain from the day slowly beginning to subside the longer he was in your presence. “I saw a lot of things in the void but the worst thing I saw wasn’t even real. It was my biggest fear. I was back with Hydra but it wasn’t me in the chair. It was you. And I-I couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

Your heart breaks. “It wasn’t real. It’s okay. I’m here and I’m safe. We’re both safe.” 

“I know,” he sighs. “I just…” he took a deep breath to steady himself before continuing. “If anything happened to you… God, I’d burn the fucking world to keep you safe.” He adjusted his position on the couch and pulled you into his arms.

You just stare at him. Overwhelmed by his words and the love that you can feel radiating off of his body. “Bucky, I don't know what to say.”

“So don’t. Don’t say anything. Just be here. Safe in my arms.”

[auroralwriting]

second chances

bucky barnes x reader (no use of y/n, next-door-neighbor trope!)

you once came face-to-face with the winter soldier, will bucky barnes be any different?

word count: 1.6k. | no warnings

The Winter Soldier's face was etched into your mind since the day you'd seen him. It was one of those average days in New York, you'd just gone out for some shopping. Sometimes Avenger sightings were normal, but seeing Captain America in full sprint was a sure fire sign something was amiss. That was when the shooting began.

You were quick to move people, ducking them under tables, shooing them further up the street, making them take corners to evade the flying bullets. It was just an instinct, there were too many people who could get hurt.

Then, you saw him.

His face was covered by a mask, but that arm, his left arm! It was completely metal. That was one of the features you burned into your brain, along with his hair color, skin color, height. The pure adrenaline and fear had pushed you to stop, freeze in place, and memorize the man.

It was then you were ushered to move by the man you found out was The Falcon. You were safe, but the smoke, the bullets, the explosions, it was all muted and dull compared to The Winter Soldier.

Years had gone by, you'd been a victim to what they called The Blip. Five whole years had forced you to relocate to Brooklyn, some cheap ass apartment building you were sure was haunted. You'd been living there for five months, got some furniture, meet the neighbors, it was a place content with being home. The one aspect that kept you up was the empty apartment next to you. It had been rotting since you moved in, you wondered who would fill its void, make the place a home once more.

It didn't take more than those five months for your answer to appear. It was grocery day, a list in your pocket and your wallet in hand, you'd just stepped out the door. Turning around, there he was.

It had been so many years since that fateful day, but you knew that stance, the hair color, height, everything about him. Through a peek in his jacket, you saw the hint of metal.

It was obvious he knew what you were thinking. The way your breath was heavy, eyes widened, there was no way he didn't know exactly what was rushing though your mind. He opened his mouth, but you rushed down the hall before he could say anything. The elevator ride down was when it hit you; he was your neighbor.

It had taken a week and a half for Bucky to gather the courage to face you. That look in your eyes was pure fear, he knew it all too well. He'd checked his list a hundred times, but your name wasn't on it. Okay, maybe he'd done some light digging into you, just a quick ask of some of the neighbors and he learned your name. He'd never hurt you, but that also didn't mean you'd never encountered him, either.

White fur of his cat, Alpine, brushed between his legs. The cat stared at Bucky, giving a soft meow. Bucky sighed, scratching between her ears. "I know, girl." He sighed, "I just need to get it over with."

The walk to your next-door apartment felt like it took ages. Bucky felt himself ridden with guilt when he softly tapped his knuckles on the door.

With the chain lock still in place, the door was opened a crack. "What do you want?" Your voice came out quickly, but it was laced with fear.

"I just.. wanna say hi to my new neighbor?" Bucky hesitated. That wasn't what he had planned on saying.

The door closed, and Bucky almost turned away when he heard the familiar sound of the chain dropping. The door opened and you slipped your way through. "You want to say hi?" Your asked in disbelief.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh arm. "Uh, yes. And, uh, apologize. I know- I know you know who I am, was. And uh, I'm not that guy anymore. It's really complicated-"

"I have time," Your response took him back. You were looking at him expectantly, your door now pushed wide open. "Are you gonna come in?"

Bucky's story was unlike any you'd ever heard. He spoke in such detail, starting from the forties to now. You'd given him some water, a soda for yourself as you sat on your couch, listening to his whole story. By the end, you felt such sympathy for the guy. He even went as far as to show you his little book (it broke your heart even more when you were told it was Steve's), amends he needed to make, movies and music he needed to see. There was a lot more to him than you expected. Much to both of your surprises, a friendship had blossomed that very day.

From that moment on, anytime Bucky would leave to go cross another name off his list, Alpine would stay at your place. You kept her company, fed her, gave her water, loved on her. Then, sometimes you found yourself missing her, so, naturally, you began going 'round Bucky's to play with her while he was home. Eventually, he began to stay around you both, watching tv or making dinner for the three of you.

Sooner or later, you had clothes at Bucky's apartment, and he kept som at yours, too. It was just friendly, of course. You just spent so much time together that it was natural to keep some belongings at each other's places.

The real change was the night you heard the loudest knocking, no, pounding, you'd ever heard on your door. The adrenaline left you jumping out of bed to go see what was happening. Throwing open the door, a disheveled, sweaty, and tearful Bucky stood, chest heaving as his hands gently grasped your face. His eyes met yours, scanning all over your face as you softly shushed him. You lead him into your apartment and laid him down in your bed. You sat next to him until he fell back asleep. He'd told you his nightmares were bad, but never this bad. It left you feeling guilty leaving him all alone in a bed he'd never been in. So, you slipped under the sheets next to him, just so he would feel a sense of comfort when he woke up.

Then that became the new normal for a few weeks. Anytime Bucky would have a nightmare, he'd slip into your bed with the key you'd given him after the second jumpscare of his fists colliding with your door.

The biggest change in your odd friendship was the night Bucky showed up at ten, before either of you had gone to sleep.

"Bucky?" You called from your spot on the couch, watching as he walked in, clad in his pajama pants and loose, grey tee-shirt. He didn't look panicked yet, you were confused why he was here so late, yet so early.

The soldier gave you a small smile, "Hi," You watched as he fumbled with his fingers, "I was wondering if I could stay? Didn't feel right bein' alone tonight." And so he stayed.

That's when the new habit began. Occasional nightmare-induced sleepovers turned into spending every night together, slowly merging to his apartment, too. You'd bring a book or your phone as Bucky would watch whatever was on tv quietly, sometimes he'd read too. Spending the night together became the new normal, you didn't know how you'd gone so far in your life without being with him like this.

Like what, though?

I mean, sure, you slept over together, he'd cook you both meals, you basically shared custody of his cat, shared apartments. But.. what? That wasn't something just friends did, but you'd never gone as far as to do anything people who were more than friends did either. So, you avoided him for approximately three days before Bucky had you cornered.

"Doll, where've you been?" Bucky asked. You could see it in his eyes, the hurt. "Been missin' you. I haven't seen you 'round, lately."

You gave him a small shrug, "Just been busy, Bucky." you answered.

Bucky knew your schedule like the back of his hand. In fact, he probably knew it better than his own. Unless something sudden or serious came up, there was no way you'd been that busy, unless..

"Why are you avoiding me?" The soldier questioned. "And don't lie to me, either. I know when you're lying."

The nerves crept up your spine as your mind raced through different answers to give him. "I've just been busy helping my aunt."

Bucky's eyebrow shot up, "Your aunt?"

"Yeah, my aunt."

"Which aunt?" Bucky questioned further, prying into your lie.

You felt your heart race, "My Aunt Leah,"

"The one who lives in Kentucky?" Bucky's face clearly showed he was not buying it.

"What are we, Buck?" You suddenly asked, feeling overwhelmed by his questions and your lie.

Bucky's face morphed into one of surprise, "What?" What did you mean, 'What are we?' You were his best friend, his everything. Wait, his everything? Bucky felt hopelessly stupid when he realized he'd never even acknowledged the fact that he could even like you.

"We sure as hell aren't just friends," You continued, "And I know for a fact that best friends don't sleep over every night, or eat every meal together, go shopping, watch movies," Your rant continued as you grilled into Bucky. "And I don't think I can keep going unless I'm yours,"

Your words had Bucky breathless, "Doll, 'course you're mine." Like a twist of fate, his words now held you breathless as you stared at the man, wide eyed. "I'm the stupid one, I should've made my intentions more clear from when I first started feeling more."

With a shake of your head, you gave Bucky a small smile, "You're not stupid, Buck."

"You wanna go get dinner tonight?" Bucky asked, "Officially as my girl, my treat."

A smile gleamed on your face, "I'd love nothing more."

[deniable-masterpiece]

just saw thunderbolts! now taking requests for bob (pre and post sentry), bucky, and john walker. gender neutral and male readers only please! all ideas, fluffy and smutty, welcome!

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - epilogue

The Stranger That Knows Me Best is a heartfelt story about connection, vulnerability, and taking chances on the unexpected. Two introverts discover that sometimes, the person who understands you best is the one who you've never met.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: slight angst but mostly fluff!

Masterlist

The past year has been a lesson in patience, in love stretched across miles, in longing softened by ink and paper. 

Y/N, By the time you read this, you'll be somewhere between where we've been and where we're going.  I keep thinking about the first letter I sent you, how I sat there rewriting the same lines over and over because I didn’t know how to talk to a complete stranger hundreds of miles away. And now? Now, I don’t know how to live everyday and not talk to you. I find you in every quiet moment, in every song that plays, in every empty space that should be filled by you. I know the past year hasn’t been easy. I know we had days where the distance felt impossible, where time zones and phone calls weren’t enough. But we made it. And I can’t wait for the moment I get to hold you again, no miles, no screens, no letters between us—just you and me. I love you.  —Bucky

You tightly hold the last letter Bucky sent to your old apartment, tears blurring your vision as you carefully fold it and tuck it back into your carry on purse. You wipe away the few streaks from your cheeks as the pilot announces the final descent into the lively New York City. 

Your heart thrums in anticipation, hands gripping the armrests as the city scape comes into view beyond the window. A year ago, Brooklyn was just a place, a doomed stop with an inevitable goodbye. But now? Now, it’s more.

It’s home.

A quiet smile tugs at your lips as the wheels touch the ground, steady and sure. There’s no sadness this time. No ache, no uncertainty, no fear of what comes next.

This time, you’re arriving home. A new, promising, more permanent home. With him.

You and Bucky have healed the past year. Together and alone. You stayed in Oregon after he surprised you at your graduation but Bucky made sure to confess his feelings to you before he left. 

"I don’t want to let you go," he had said, voice rough with emotion, hands clenching at his sides as if he was holding himself back from reaching for you. "Not again. Never again."

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t care. God, you cared more than you had words for but because love, real love, felt too raw, too fragile to hold after everything you had been through. You weren’t sure if you were ready for a relationship, but you knew you couldn’t let him go either.

So you agreed to stay in contact. Letters at first. That has always been your safe space. As the months passed, wounds mended and your trust was rebuilt through all of his carefully written words, the letters turned into more. More quickly from texts to phone calls, the sound of Bucky’s voice became familiar again. He never pressured you for more. No expectations–only his continued patience and understanding. 

Bucky let you set the pace. And somewhere along the way, in the quiet constancy of him, in the way he never wavered, never gave up on devoting his time and heart to you, you realized what had been true all along.

You’d fallen in love with him.

That realization for you gave you the strength and bravery to accept his invitation to a trip, a planned weekend getaway to a city halfway between both of you. The first time since your graduation seeing each other again. 

You close your eyes as the memories come rushing back as you wait to unboard the plane. 

The way he was waiting at the arrivals gate, shifting anxiously on his feet, his expression nervous, like he was expecting you not to show up, until he saw you. And then his face became full of pure, unfiltered relief. He wrapped you in his arms before you could say anything, holding you, afraid to let go. You felt the same way, tears glistening both of your eyes as you collapsed against each other. 

That weekend was a dream. Wandering the unfamiliar streets hand in hand, laughing over terrible coffee, stealing glances across a candlelit table at a small restaurant that Bucky reserved weeks before. The way he looked at you under the streetlights, his fingers traced mindless patterns against your palm as if he couldn’t believe you were real, here, his.

You remember the hotel room, the late-night talks, the way you curled into him, muttering about the future. The first time you whispered I love you into the quiet, and the way he froze for a second before pulling you closer, burying his face into your neck as he breathed out,

“God, I love you too. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you.”

It was the most perfect, unbelievably happy weekend you ever had. And it solidified what you already knew in your heart.

Bucky was home. He is home. 

And now, as you gather your things and follow the line out of the plane, you know without a doubt—you’re so happy to finally be home. 

You navigate through the terminal, weaving through the rush of travelers, your grip tightening around the strap of your bag as the anticipation builds in your chest. You look around frantically, over the heads and shoulders of your fellow travelers and see him. 

There he is. Bucky. In his usual battered jeans and leather jacket, hands stuffed into his pockets as he bounces slightly on the balls of his feet, showing the same amount of anticipation as you.  His eyes scan the crowd, restless, searching until they land on you.

His entire face shifts. The tension melts, his shoulders drop, and for a second, he just stares at you like he can’t believe you’re really here. Then, he moves.

You barely have time to drop your bag before he reaches you, arms wrapping around you so tightly that your feet barely touch the ground. The scent of him fills your senses as you bury your face in his neck.

“You’re here,” he murmurs against your hair, voice thick with heavy relief. “You’re finally here.”

You nod against him, gripping the fabric of his shirt like you never want to let go. “I’m home.”

Bucky pulls back just enough to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness at your cheeks. “Damn right you are.”

He kisses you then, right there in the middle of the terminal, he doesn’t care about the people moving around you. You and this moment are the only things that matter. 

Brooklyn rushes past in a blur of streetlights and familiar city chaos, but inside the car, everything feels steady—grounded. Bucky’s fingers weave through yours, his grip firm, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. The radio plays softly in the background as neither of you speak much. You don’t need to. The quiet is comfortable, charged with the unspoken understanding that everything is finally falling into place.

He sneaks glances at you every so often, like he’s making sure you’re real. Every time you catch him, he just smirks and squeezes your hand.

"If you keep looking at me like that, Barnes," you tease, your thumb brushing against his knuckles, "I might start thinking you missed me."

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, ‘missed’ doesn’t even cover it."

And you believe him. Because you missed him, too. In ways words could never quite capture.

Even though you were never the type to map out your future, you know now that you never could have planned a chapter like this. This kind of love—the kind that sneaks up on you, that lingers, that fights to stay. It wasn’t something you expected to find. But Bucky? He made it impossible to resist. Over the last year, his unwavering patience, his devotion, his quiet, steady love proved again and again that this is real. That this is worth everything.

Through long conversations—some easy, some difficult—you both built a foundation meant to last.

The city begins to slow as Bucky turns onto a quieter street. Brownstone townhomes line both sides, bathed in the warm glow of porch lights and the occasional flicker of a television through a window. Your fingers tighten around his as your heart stutters, realization washing over you.

This is it.

Your new home.

Together.

Bucky pulls into a parking spot in front of a townhouse with wide steps leading up to a dark blue door. The sight of it, so solid and welcoming, makes your throat tighten. It’s not just a temporary place to stay. This is yours, together.

Before you can even process it fully, Bucky is already out of the car, rounding the hood to open your door. He doesn’t rush you, only reaches for your hand to help you out.

"You ready?" he asks, his voice softer now, eyes searching yours as you stand next to him in front of your home.

You take a breath, taking in the way he’s looking at you—no trace of anxiety to be seen, only adoration. 

You squeeze his hand, stepping closer.

"Yeah," you whisper, smiling up at him. "I’m ready."

Bucky keeps a hand at the small of your back as he leads you up the steps to the front door. He pauses, giving you a look that’s entirely too pleased with himself.

“What?” You narrow your eyes. “What did you do?”

Bucky’s hand never leaves the small of your back as he nudges the door open, watching for your reaction like a man who’s been waiting for this moment for far too long. His lips twitch into that boyish smirk you’ve come to know too well.

Your mouth parts in shock.

The entire living room is decorated. A homemade banner stretches across the space, big, uneven letters reading Welcome Home. Balloons in soft blues and creams float in the corners, tied down by little weights. A bouquet of fresh tulips—your favorite—sits in a vase on the kitchen counter.

But what really gets you, what makes your throat tighten and your eyes sting, is the sight of the boxes you shipped ahead of time. Not a single one remains unpacked. Your books are already on the shelves, your framed pictures placed thoughtfully around the space, your favorite blanket draped over the couch.

It already looks like home.

Your eyes sting, and you swallow hard before turning to him, voice barely above a whisper. “You did all this?”

“Didn’t want you comin’ home to a mess,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured you’d be tired. Thought maybe this’d make it easier.”

Easier. Like he hasn’t already spent the past year making everything easier just by being there.

Emotion swells in your chest, too big to contain. You reach for him instinctively, hands settling against his chest. “Bucky…”

Before you can find the right words, he beats you to it.

He cups your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. His lips press against your forehead, lingering there as he exhales.

“You’re here now,” he murmurs. “We’re home.”

It’s not grand or dramatic. There’s no over-the-top declaration. Just quiet certainty. Just him.

And that’s all you need.

You melt into him, arms wrapping around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He holds you just as tightly, anchoring himself to you.

After a long moment, you pull back just enough to look at him, your heart full to the point of aching. “I love you,” you whisper, the words slipping out so effortlessly, so naturally, like they’ve lived on your tongue forever.

Bucky’s eyes search yours, memorizing the moment, storing it away somewhere safe. Then, with a slow, almost disbelieving smile, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Say it again,” he murmurs.

Your lips twitch, and you cup his face, brushing your thumb along the stubble on his jaw. “I love you.”

A soft, shaky laugh leaves him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s kissing you, slow and deep, like he’s been waiting forever to do it. Like he’s finally home, too.

Later that evening, after the excitement of your arrival settles and the last of the takeout containers have been pushed aside, you curl into the couch, legs tucked beneath you. Bucky sits beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch, fingers tracing absentminded patterns against your shoulder. 

You glance around the room, taking it all in—the space you’re building together, the life that’s finally yours. It feels surreal, like you’re caught in some fragile moment that could slip through your fingers at any second. But it’s all real. He’s real.

Your mind drifts, tracing back the previous months that have led here. 

Sam had insisted on helping you find your footing in the city, setting up a meeting with an old friend of his, the editor-in-chief of a local magazine, who owed him a favor. You remember the nerves rattling through you when you first interviewed, the overwhelming self-doubt. But Sam believed in you. And now, here you are. The new assistant editor, ready to carve your own place in the industry.

And Bucky…

Your gaze shifts to him, watching the way his eyes soften as he looks back at you. He’s changed in ways that make you want to scream with pride. The man who once struggled to let anyone in now stands solid in his place at a physical therapy clinic only blocks away, guiding patients through their recovery, offering quiet encouragement, a steady hand.

He’s told you some stories about his clients. An older woman who insists on bringing him baked goods to every appointment. A stubborn teenage athlete who reminds him too much of himself at that age. You catch the way his enjoyment appears on his face everytime he talks about the work, feeling fulfilled in ways he never thought possible.

But more than that, Bucky has let people in.

Flashbacks from the past couple months drift through your mind. As you and Bucky went about looking for a new home to rent, you spent more time in Brooklyn. And Sam didn’t let the experiences stop. 

Sam has been a beacon in your relationship and who you now consider one of your best friends. He’s always been determined to drag Bucky out of his shell so you both decided to make the effort and push past the old tendencies of retreat and allow yourselves to open up to a new world of experiences. 

The bar is excited with life, music pulsing through the floorboards, rattling in your chest. The air is thick with beer and sweat. It should be overwhelming, but with Bucky’s arm looped around your waist, you can’t think about anything else. You admire his protectiveness. It’s not an act of possession. It’s comfortable and grounding.

Sam stands across from you, drink in hand, telling some ridiculous story about a botched date, a missed reservation, and a very unimpressed woman. His hands move wildly as he reenacts the whole thing, voice animated, drawing laughter from the new group of friends he introduced you both to.

You giggle and feel Bucky chuckle beside you, his body vibrating slightly against yours. He’s relaxed in a way you don’t always get to see, his usual broody exterior softened by the good company and a couple of drinks.

You don’t even realize how close you’ve drifted to him until the room around you fades into the background, until your foreheads are nearly touching. His breath ghosts over your cheek, his gaze dipping to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes, and for a second, the world narrows to just you and him.

His fingers flex against your waist, a small squeeze.

You smirk, tilting your head jokingly. “You keep looking at me like that, Barnes, people might start talking.”

Bucky huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Let ‘em talk.”

His grip on you tightens, just enough to make your pulse flutter, just enough to tell you what you already know. He’s not letting you go. Never again.

Sam’s place is warm, filled with laughter bouncing off the walls. The setting invites easy conversation and good company.

Plates are pushed aside, empty glasses refilled, and now the living room is alive with game night in full swing.

You and Bucky, however, are horrible at charades.

Neither of you have much enthusiasm for acting things out, and it shows. Bucky flat-out refuses to perform anything more animated than a halfhearted gesture, and your attempts aren’t much better. 

“You both are THE worst team in charades history.” Sam exclaims, shaking his head in slight disappointment. The rest of the group groans and laughs as you struggle through yet another round.

Still, Bucky leans in close, murmuring guesses in your ear, half the time being terrible.

“C’mon, doll, that’s definitely a—wait, what are you doing?”

You groan, gesturing wildly, barely holding back laughter. “How do you not see it? It’s so obvious!”

“Not a chance,” he smirks, shaking his head. “You’re making that up.”

"You are the worst partner," you tease, lightly swatting his arm.

Despite your efforts—or lack thereof—you both lose spectacularly. The others tease you about it even after the game ends, Sam declaring an official ban on you and Bucky ever teaming up again.

But later, when the night slows and the energy lowers, you find yourself curled up against him on the couch. His arm draped lazily around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly playing with yours, tracing soft patterns against your skin. 

Losing didn’t matter.

Not when the night ends like this.

You tip your head slightly, just enough to meet his eyes, and he’s already looking at you, the corner of his mouth tugging up in the softest smile.

Yeah. The night was definitely a win.

The quieter moments over the last few months snuck up on you, the ones that didn’t seem significant at first but settle deep in your mind, lingering long after they’ve passed.

One early spring afternoon you and your new friends stroll through the park, conversations overlapping with easy laughter. The air is cool with the sun peeking through the bare branches.

Bucky walks beside you, his hand brushing against yours every so often. But what truly captures your attention is the way he’s engaged in a conversation that isn’t forced or guarded, he’s relaxed, voice steady. He listens, he responds, and he even throws in a dry remark that makes the whole group laugh.

It’s such a simple thing, and yet, you remember the version of him from over a year ago—the one who would have kept his head down, who would have listened silently. And now, here he is, with people who genuinely enjoy his presence.

You squeeze his hand and when he glances at you, you smile brightly. He squeezes your hand back.

Your hand stays in his, tightly as everyone settles into a restaurant booth for brunch. Loud chaos of plates and coffee cups overflow the table. You sit across from Bucky at the crowded table, but your focus stays entirely on him, watching as his expression shifts between amusement and exasperation at Sam’s latest ridiculous story.

Sam’s hands move animatedly as he talks, voice dramatic, eyes wide, clearly embellishing whatever tale he’s spinning. Bucky, arms crossed, leans back in his chair, unimpressed.

“That never happened,” he says flatly.

“Yes, it did!” Sam insists.

Bucky just shakes his head, taking a sip of his coffee. And you can’t help but admire the way his eyes crinkle at the corners slightly.

You nudge his foot under the table and mouth to him you love it, just admit it.

Bucky tilts his head slightly, eyes locked on yours, and mouths, not a chance.

You arch a brow, fighting back a grin. Liar.

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his coffee, but the ghost of a smile lingers. His foot nudges yours back under the table with a silent drop it.

You lean forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as you mouth again, you’re having fun.

Bucky’s lips press together, eyes narrowing just slightly before he mouths back, debatable.

You roll your eyes, you know him too well now to realize he is enjoying this, even if he’ll never admit it out loud.

Across the table, Sam groans. “Okay, what is this? Some kind of creepy silent flirting? Just say what you wanna say like normal people.”

Bucky finally smirks, setting his coffee down with a soft clink. “Says the guy who just reenacted a story that never happened.”

The whole table erupts into laughter, and you just shake your head, nudging Bucky’s foot again. This time, he doesn’t push back. Instead, he just looks at you with a gentle softness in his eyes.

Yeah, he’s enjoying this.

Even now, sitting in your new quiet home, you know you’d be content spending the rest of your life like this. Just you and him.

Still, you’re more grateful than ever for the friendships you’ve made and the ones you’ve kept. Wanda has remained a constant. She has been there so much over the past year, watching your love and relationship sprout and grow so bright. She helped you pack all your things and dropped you off at the airport on your way home to Bucky. 

You shift your carry-on higher on your shoulder, glancing over at Wanda, who stands beside you, arms crossed and eyes suspiciously glassy.

“You’re gonna cry,” you tease, nudging her side.

Wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Please. I don’t cry.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t.” She clears her throat, blinking rapidly. “It’s just… weird, that’s all. You not being here.”

Your chest tightens at that. It is weird. Oregon has been your home all your life, and saying goodbye, to head toward one of the most important chapters of your life, carries a bittersweet weight.

But Brooklyn is waiting. Bucky is waiting.

“I know,” you say softly. “But you’ll visit. And I’ll visit. And it’s not like we won’t talk every day.”

Wanda huffs. “Yeah, yeah. You better not get all ‘too busy with my new life’ on me.”

You grin. “You’ll force me to talk to you, even if I tried.”

“Damn right.” She pauses, her expression shifting. “But seriously… I’m proud of you. For going after this. For going home.”

Your throat tightens. You blink quickly, forcing a smile. “Don’t make me cry right before I get on a plane.”

Wanda smirks, bumping your shoulder. “I knew you were the crier between us.”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. Then, before you can overthink it, you pull her into a tight hug. She grips you just as fiercely.

“Love you,” you mumble into her shoulder.

“Love you too,” she says, voice muffled. Then, pulling back with a smirk, she adds, “Now go before I do start crying and completely ruin my reputation.”

You laugh, adjusting your bag one last time. One last deep breath. One last glance at the place you’ve called home for so long.

A sigh escapes you, the weight of everything—the past, the future, the sheer enormity of how far you’ve both come—settles into your bones.

Bucky’s fingers trail down your arm, his touch grounding. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he murmurs, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

You shift, pressing into his side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Just thinking about how much has changed.”

His lips curve into a knowing smile. “Yeah?”

You nod, eyes flickering up to meet his. “Almost two years ago, we were two strangers trying to make sense of everything. Now, we’re here. Together.”

Bucky hums, his hand slipping beneath your chin, tilting your face up to his. “Together,” he echoes, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

There’s a gentle acknowledgment that the journey isn’t over. You’re both still healing, still working through old wounds and learning how to navigate life as it comes.

“Oh I have one more thing for you.” Bucky whispers and gets up, grabbing an envelope from the kitchen counter. “A welcome home letter. I figured we’d carry on the tradition, you know, just because we’re finally here together, doesn’t mean we can’t continue to write to one another.” 

You smile at his suggestion, reaching for the envelope as he settles back down beside you. 

Bucky watches as you unfold it and absentmindedly rubs circles against your arm.

You take a breath, eyes tracing the words meant only for you.

Y/N, I know from here on out I get to see you everyday. I get to wake up next to you, hold you and kiss you whenever I want. But still, I can’t help but find myself reaching for a pen. I feel like there are things that I can only seem to say like this.  I hope we carry on this tradition. I don’t want this to change. Each of us digging into each others minds that we somehow find new facets we haven’t uncovered before. It’s fascinating to communicate so openly through written words, that even therapy probably couldn’t pull from me.  I am eternally grateful that you have chosen to continue to try this with me. Not just the letters but life. There’s not a singular soul on this planet that I would choose over you. You are my entire universe and I will love you in a way that doesn’t change, even as everything else does. And I hope that, no matter how much time passes, no matter where life takes us, I’ll always find a way to remind you. So, here’s to you, someone who started out as the stranger that knew me best.  And now to us, a love I hope to cherish and honor for the rest of my days. And here’s to the words that started it all. – Bucky xx

You press the letter to your chest, blinking back the emotion swelling behind your eyes. Bucky shifts beside you, wrapping you warmly in his arms. 

“Still gets you, huh?” he murmurs, his lips curving in that small, knowing smile.

You glance up at him, seeing every chapter of the past, present, and future reflected in his blue eyes. “Always,” you whisper.

Even as things change or fade over time, you know your love will last for lifetimes because you’re both deciding to do it together, no matter how hard it gets. Through the small and big moments. You’re doing it together. 

It’s not perfect. It rarely will ever be. But you’re growing.

And that’s enough. That will always be enough.

Taglist (please lmk if you don't want to be apart of my taglist or comment below to be added!): @mutifandomkid @civilbucky @ozwriterchick @buckyb-stan @lomlbuckybarnes @kjah97 @danzer8705 @laprofesoratinacita

Thank you so much for reading <3 my requests are open for Bucky, so please if you have any ideas send them my way!

[night-dazai]

Demons Wife

“fuck …oh my ….” full lips pulled into a smirk while sharp fangs peeked out “You even made me curse, such naughty lady aren't you, “ he said while white-gloved hands roamed your body pulling at your nipples and thrusting a finger into your wet weeping cunt.

“Seb…seabass….” you tried but nothing but strangled moans left your mouth, you had no idea how long it had been since you were in this position.

7 months into your marriage with Sebastian to save you from being a slave, you thought Ceil and his butler were kind men who had saved you and little did you know. You would sometimes question your husband's actions and behaviour, but with his gentlemanly aura you never even thought for a second he could be a devil or anything even close to evil. ”y/n we got married too soon, it might be a shock for you my dear, “ he said softly gloved hands creasing yours “Let's get to know each other and maybe one day we can consummate this marriage “ his smile angel like you could not thank god enough for such a caring and loving husband. In the 7 months, you guys would go on cafe dates and night outings cause that's when he was mostly free from his butler work. Holding hands after 2 months and kissing after 5 months broke it for you. You were sure you could give everything of yourself to him. “Sebastian, we can consummate this marriage, “ you said a month ago while you were out for a walk after dinner. His red eyes widened for a second and were soon replaced by a kind smile “Don't force yourself, love, it will be hard “ he said squeezing your hand reassuringly “But “you said stopping him “I want it to be you “You looked up dead in his eyes” I want you to take my virginity and all of me… I give it to you “ you said giving your hand to him. His red eyes looked at you quietly for a second before he got on his knees took your hands and kissed them “Your wish is my command y/n” he said smiling. You thought his eyes became darker for a second or maybe you were dreaming. But after the confession, your gentle husband made it his mission to get you accustomed to his touch, and light makeouts which left you panting for air.

“y/n I would like it if you looked at me more “ he said taking your hands which covered your tear-tainted face which was bright red. You looked up at him “Beautiful “ was all you could think but soon you pouted and turned your head to the side “No..not fair “ you said softly.

He chuckled kissing your jaw” What's not fair love ?” he asked innocently, you were sure he knew what it was. You lay naked and vulnerable on the bed while he was still fully clothed. You pulled at his shirt, chuckling at your cuteness “My my of course what is this rude behaviour of mine “ he said and moved back removing each piece of clothing with deliberate calculations and making sure you got a full show of him doing it.

“Now things are just going to get more rude “ he said pushing you back to the bed. The dimly lit room had both your shadows on the wall while some of the candles near your bed flickered a little due to the tension in the room.

That was when you noticed it fully, red eyes, fangs ready to draw blood and the smile of the devil, a shadow deep and darker than hell your husband smiled down on you creasing the side of your check “It will hurt, we have all the time so we can go slow okay “.

It was not a question, it was an order, telling you nothing will stop him. You have heard many call your wedded partner a devil and there were many questionable things that you have seen but …..” does it matter ?”.

Smiling you opened your arms wide “If you are going to hell or even if you are hell ..take me …”. That when the realisation hit you “I knew …… did not accept it “ you said “Claim me “

You did not know what effect your words had on him but his actions stopped, his dick right at your entrance while he stared into your eyes “Do…do you even know the meaning of the things you said ? What if I am a sinful being and ..not even human ?” he asked softly but there was no gentleness in it “that has nothing to do with me . You are my husband “you said still smiling like a child at a candy store.

The demon's red eyes flashed a dangerous red but collected himself he smiled, face filled with nothing but love “You surely will drive me crazy one day before that whiny master of mine does “ he said chucking and as you both were busy laughing his shaft moved right into you in one thrust.

Your back arching completely off the bed, air completely out of your lungs and eyes rolled back you held on to his shoulders for your life. Kissing your exposed neck, the devil smiled biting it, making you moan and yelp in pain and pleasure “All mine “ eyes red as fire and shadow darker than hell … The devil claimed his wife ………….

I always had a soft spot for the demon butler and also wanted one for myself ..but @chooyahh reminded me of my old lover. Thank you for that!💕

[shegatsby]

Silent Obsession

Summary; After he became a civilian Bucky's mind, body and soul was trying to adapt to his new life. He swore to himself that he was going to live the rest of his life alone, until he saw her. His distroted mind and broken soul ached to be with her, to be around her all the time. Could he manage it or ruin it for both of them?

A/N: Ever since I've heard that song by Massive Attack all I can imagine is stalker bucky! Enjoy. TAG LIST IS OPEN!

This is tha playlist I made for the series;

Warnings: Dark Romance. Stalking.

Words: 3013K

Chapter One

‘’You’re alone.’’ His therapist said in a calm manner but Bucky knew she was frustrated with him. ‘’You’re 100 years old, you have no history, no family-‘’ he had to cut her off, ‘’Are you lashing out on me Doc? Because that’s really unprofessional.’’ It wasn’t a nice session to say the least. He was a civilian now and he had to get therapy once a month, at first it was every week and it was horrible. He never believed in shrinks, maybe that was his old fashioned side talking  but in Wakanda, he was making progress. Sometimes he would just sit in his small flat and imagine that he was in Wakanda again, in his small hut, surrounded by divine nature and animals… how he missed that place. Bucky observed his Doc, she was in her middle ages, married and had two children, one could see the photos on her glass desk, she always had a plain shirt and plazzo pants, her hair tied back. Thanks to his training he could deduce human behavior so meticulously perfect that he didn’t even need to talk to them to get to know them. He would just know. ‘’Your homework,’’ she began, obviously fed up with him not being so cooperative, ‘’Stop ignoring Sam Wilson’s calls and start making new friends. I know you’re not gonna but-‘’ she sighed, looking at his stoic expression, ‘’go on a small date.’’ With her last sentence he scuffed and rolled his blue eyes, that was out of the question for him. How could someone trust him and how could he trust someone?!

‘’At least call Sam back.’’ She pleaded.  The session was over, he got up from his seat, ‘’Will do.’’ He gave her a soldier salute and then waltzed out of her office, as he was about to close the door with his high senses he could hear the woman sigh and write on her notes. The soft sound of pen making contact with paper filled his already buzzing mind. He marched the halls of the building, he noticed the way people who work here avoiding making eye contact, moving out of his way. He knew the effect he had on people, they were afraid of him, as they should be because he didn’t even trust himself, he was healed in Wakanda, thanks to the community there especially Wakanda’s highly trained Dora Milaje but he was in fear that one day he was going to snap and become the Winter Soldier again. Of course his therapist didn’t know this fear of his, he wasn’t good at opening up, giving details.

Today he was off, didn’t have anything to do so his plan was to go the pub near his home and drink, maybe see Mr. Nakajima, Bucky was living in an apartment complex with his neighbors but he was only talking to Mr. Nakajima and Mrs. Rodriguez.

The reason why he was helping Mr. Nakajima was that when he was the Winter Soldier he had killed his son, he was trying to make amends and this was his way of saying sorry. He was helping him and keeping him company. Mrs. Rodriguez on the other hand was just a sweet old lady who would bake for him and Bucky would take out her trash and help her carry the groceries. As he was marching to his Harley he thought about Doc’s words, ‘’You are alone…’’ no, he wasn’t. Even though his friends were old he still had some people around him… maybe he should return Sam’s calls.

On his bike he had an idea, he was stopping at the red light, Mrs. Rodriguez once mentioned that her husband, until his last day he would get her a bouquet of red roses every week. Bucky wanted to surprise the old lady who was like a mother to him at this point, (even though he was actually older than her) it would be a nice surprise. The city was crowded as usual, he loved to watch people, most of them were in hurry. Hurrying to pick up their kids from school, getting groceries, trying to run to their appointments… life was normal for them but for James Buchanan Barnes Jr. life had never been normal. Even back in the 40s he was protecting his ma from his dad, he was hustling jobs before he became a soldier. It was never easy for him and it wasn’t going to be, he had made peace with that but sometimes, especially late at night as he laid on the floor of his small living room his mind dared to dream. A nice home, lights are on, soft music playing at the background and a woman greeting him as he enters their home… In those split seconds he would stop himself as soon as he realizes that he was dreaming something that could never happen. He didn’t see himself worthy of that kind of life.

He parked his bike on the empty alley and looked around, there was a flower shop across the street so he walked up to the shop. His boots heavy on the pavement, he had his black hoodie and his black leather jacket on top with black jeans and boots, he never forgot his leather gloves, he didn’t like people seeing his metal arm. He didn’t want to be recognized as the Winter Soldier, he was just Bucky.

The tall glass showed the inside, it looked like a cozy place, the door of the place was dark green, there was a writing on the tall glass it said ‘’Floral Fantasia’’  as he opened the door he could hear the golden bell that was attached to the door, the floors were dark wood, one could see the various types of flowers in large vases. The strong scent of freshness filled his nostrils, he had never smelt that many flowers in one place before, there was a young girl behind one of the counters and she was busy with decorating a vase, ‘’Hello Sir.’’ She smiled, Bucky didn’t return the smile, he was still standing, the door behind him. ‘’Y/N!’’ the young girl called, apparently she was busy to take his order. She smiled apologetically again, her blue eyes ran up and down on him, as she turned to go to the back of the flower shop she gave him a quick look again, Bucky could tell that this blue eyed blonde woman found him attractive, which made him feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Soon the blue eyed girl returned with another girl, now Bucky was close to the counter that had the cashier, waiting impatiently, he was about to leave when he saw her.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=66A_3uwuZ_I (this is the song that plays when Bucky sees her for the first time)

‘’My friend will take your order Sir, sorry to keep you waiting.’’ The previous girl said but Bucky almost didn’t hear her. His deep blue eyes focused on the new girl and as soon as he saw her something in him shifted. She looked up with those pretty eyes, eyes that could destroy empires, there was a height difference between them so she had to look up at him. She smiled kindly at him, she didn’t have any make up on, she was wearing a simple white long sleeve shirt, why was she wearing that in this heat? Bucky was covering his arm so he had to,  her blue jeans fit her hips perfectly, her long hair tied carefully, Bucky could feel his heart picking up the pace, his flesh palm getting sweatier with a certain kind of feeling he couldn’t quite place. ‘’What would you like to have Sir?’’ she simply asked, Bucky had to clear his dry throat before he could speak, ‘’A bouquet of red roses.’’ He replied with a cold tone but deep down he could feel the strange attraction towards her. He watched her skillful hands work on the bouquet, she must have been doing this for a long time, ‘’Here you are.’’ She finished her work of art and extended the bouquet and he specifically got the roses with his non metal hand, just to feel her fingers brush the leather and maybe feel a fraction if he was lucky. ‘’That’ll be 40 dollars Sir.’’ He got the money from his leather wallet and used the same hand to give the money, their fingers brushed again, he wished he didn’t have the gloves but he had to. ‘’Thank you so much, have a great day.’’ She said smiling as she placed the money, he only nodded and left the place in a hurry. His mind was going to dark places such as waiting outside till her shift ends… he forced himself to walk to his bike, he placed the roses carefully on the small trunk that was at the back, got on the bike and started the engine and waited. His thoughts occupied by the girl’s sweet smile and beautiful face. He exhaled, ‘’She is just attractive, that’s all.’’  He thought, ‘’If it was the 40s I would’ve asked her out on a movie night, maybe we would go to the beach and drink coke..’’

After waiting on his bike for few minutes he left the empty alley.

‘’Gosh! He was dreamy!’’ Y/N’s work bestie Melanie pointed out as soon as the man left. They had to finish up the vases for a wedding. The bride had chosen white tulips with slight green here and there, Y/N’s focus was on the glass vase she had just finished decorating, she sighed, deep in thoughts. Was she going to have a wedding one day? ‘’I’m sorry, what did you say?’’ she asked, Melanie was sitting on one of the tables, swaying her legs like a child, her blue eyes looking at Y/N, ‘’The man who bought the roses, he was so hot!’’ she tried to remember but all she remembered was a stern look and a tall muscular frame, ‘’Oh, you think so?’’ Y/N had started a new vase, her hands quick. ‘’Girl, didn’t you even look at him. I wish he would come back! You know what, if he comes again I’ll let you know so that you’ll see how hot he is.’’ Melanie was persistent, ‘’Alright alright, get back to work.’’ Y/N said, she was few years older than Melanie and also their boss made it clear that when he wasn’t around Y/N was in charge because she was responsible and always got the job done no matter what. ‘’How are thing with your boyfriend?’’ Melanie was a chatty one, Y/N’s hands started to shake when she heard the question maybe because she didn’t eat lunch yet, ‘’He just moved in with me.’’ Y/N replied, forcing a smile. They had a huge fight this morning, that’s why she was wearing a long sleeved shirt, ‘’Oh after 5 years, finally!’’ Melanie said, it was true, Y/N and Leo were together for five years, she didn’t remember the time they were so in love, maybe the first year of their relationship… Leo was so nice and kind.. she often wondered what happened to that sweet boy who was replaced with a gambling monster. Leo had to move in with Y/N because he was in a lot of debt, she was helping him for maybe two years, giving him money and food and now he was in her small apartment, he had to be under the radar for a while so her place was the perfect solution. Y/N’s weary head felt more heavier than usual, she rested her hands on the counter for a split second, eyes closed, ‘’You okay?’’ Melanie immediately noticed her friend being dizzy, ‘’Yeah, just, I need water.’’ She managed to say, Melanie rushed to the back, they had a small kitchen at the back and a lounge area, she brought a tall glass of water for her friend, ‘’Here. You can sit for a while.’’

Y/N only nodded, her arms feeling weak.

Bucky never used the elevator, he was climbing up the stairs holding the bouquet in one hand, the other free. The government had placed him in that apartment complex to make him adjust to the new world, he had to be among people all the time and he detested it most of the time. The apartment’s flats were occupied by various people, old, young, single, married, so many different lives that made him feel stuck in a time capsule, he wasn’t that young boy who got drafted to war, he wasn’t a killing machine either, what was he now? He had no idea. He walked up to Mrs. Rodriguez’s door, knocked on it thrice, waiting patiently, soon the door opened and the old lady’s brown eyes smiled at him. He noticed that every time she saw him there was a light in her eyes, it made his heart get a warm feeling. ‘’Hi, Mrs. Rodriguez, these are for you.’’ He extended the roses, his mind flashing him with the image of that girl who had made the bouquet, so sweet, so innocent looking..

‘’Aw, James!’’ she was one of the rare people he revealed his first name, she was now smiling ear to ear, there was dust of flour on her chubby fingers, she must have been baking again, per usual. Her pink apron was old and stitched so many times it reminded him the old times where one had to stitch their clothes, no one could afford a new one. ‘’These are beautiful. Thank you so much, you’re such a gentleman, girls must be all over you.’’ It made him scoff but he gave her a smirk, whenever he was around old people or people he was comfortable with his old self would come out with smirks, eye rolling and smug attitude. ‘’Wait!’’ she said as she walked back inside and brought back cookies, ‘’They are still warm.’’ She was so generous ‘’Thank you so much Mrs. Rodriguez, I’ll bring back the plate.’’ He gave her a smile and said goodbye, his flat was upstairs so he climbed the stairs again.

He reached to his dark brown door, immediately he could hear Alpine’s soft meows. He opened the door and was greeted by her, she was meowing as if complaining, ‘’Yeah yeah, I know I’m late. You’re just like my Ma.’’ He locked the door as he entered, his curtains were closed, there was a grey sofa in his living room, no rug, a small TV, it was a small place, connecting the kitchen and living room. At the back there was a bedroom and bathroom. He placed the plate of cookies on the white counter, noticing Alpine’s food bowl empty, ‘’Oh that’s why you were complaining.’’ He filled the white bowl, and made sure she had water as well and then he hit the shower, he stood there under the cold water, he hated the cold but it woke him up. The cold made him remember Siberia’s freezing cells, a memory he would kill to forget. After the shower, he removed the blanket over the mirror to see if he had to shave or not but he could wait for a few days, he covered the mirror again, he didn’t like seeing his reflection because it made him feel distorted to see a man who is 100 something years old still alive with a Vibranium arm, he walked back to turn on the TV, he had a towel wrapped around his waist, his dog tags hanging and sticking to his broad chest, there was a game tonight and he didn’t want to miss it.  He sat on the sofa as he zapped and found the channel, once he had found the channel he went to his fridge which only had frozen pizza and beer packs. He threw one pizza into the microwave and  got few beers, as the pizza was getting warmer he walked to his bedroom door, he opened it and hit he lights. He was actually using his bedroom as a dressing room, he had a wardrobe and a bed that has never been slept on. He wore shorts and threw the towel on the bed, and walked back to get the pizza. He liked game nights, it reminded him the old times where Bucky and Steve would listen through radio with friends. There was a dominant knock on his door, he huffed, Bucky took the pizza out of the microwave and walked to the door with cautious steps, other than the government only few people knew his location. When he checked the peephole he saw Sam’s face, he lifted one of his hand to show that he brought a six pack. ‘’Drop the weapons Bucky.’’ He rolled his eyes, Bucky huffed again and answered the door, ‘’Be quick.’’ He assured Sam inside because he didn’t want anyone of his neighbors to see his vibranium arm. ‘’It’s game night! Oh great you have pizza!’’ Sam placed the beers on the counter, got himself one and then dropped to Bucky’s sofa. Without a word Bucky popped another slice into the microwave for Sam.

‘’So, you’ve been ignoring me because….’’ Sam pointed it out as they were watching the game, it had been 20 minutes. ‘’I was busy.’’ Bucky cut short with a raspy voice, ‘’Busy with what? Hanging out with old people?’’

Bucky snapped, was Sam spying on him? Or someone else getting information on him? His distorted mind started to went into a whole spiral, was Sam trustworthy? Was he also following Mr. Nakajima and Mrs. Rodriguez?

‘’Relax blue steel!’’ Sam raised his hands in defense, ‘’I don’t got nobody on your tail! I saw your neighbor on the way to you, sweet old man asked me if I was heading to your place.’’ Bucky’s eyes travelled on Sam’s smug face to detect if he was lying, he couldn’t find any proof so he dropped it, for now.

‘’They might be old but they’re still people so I’m doing what Doc says.’’ He defended himself with an annoyed voice, finished his beer and got up, ‘’I’m assuming that your future girlfriend is going to be what-‘’ Sam pretended like he was calculating, ‘’around 80 years.’’ And laughed out loud, he couldn’t realize the change on Bucky’s face, his mind went to the girl he saw today, at the flower shop.  ‘’Yeah, right.’’ He didn’t have the energy to protest to Sam.

Something in Bucky kept whispering, a soft voice calling him, he knew from the very first start that he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her.

Thank you for reading. :)

Chapter Two

[mutifandomkid]

Happy Anniversary

Paring: Buckyxreader

Warnings: Angst, cheating, self comparison, implied car accident??

Word count: 1.7k

****************

Bucky and I had been in a relationship for three years now. Tomorrow was our anniversary. I had already picked out some black lingerie, and made reservations at one of Bucky’s favorite restaurants.

It was a small hole in the wall, Italian. The inside of the venue was beautiful, black and white marble walls. Ivy vines trailing up and down the walls, and the black open fences out on the balcony. It was fancy for a small hole in the wall, but the food was amazing, and each time we ate there, we always left with full bellies with smiles on our faces.

“Alright I have one table set for two, scheduled for tomorrow night at 7 pm, underneath the name of Mr. Barnes?” The woman asked.

“Yes, that’s correct, thank you.” I said, to which she smiled at me, and said I was go to go.

I headed from the restaurant to hailed a taxi, climbing in a heading to Stark’s tower. In which he already knew of my arrival, letting me up. He had me try on two different dresses. His designer looking them over and making small adjustments before having me model them again.

“Looks good, you and iceman will look great tonight, firecracker.” Tony smiled, admiring the dress on my body. “Perfect for the party tonight.”

The dress itself was a white dress, that faded into an ombré on yellow, orange and red at the bottom, the flow of the dress and mover of colors appearing as if it was flames.

Stark grabbed my hand and spun me around, the designer admiring it from afar. Tony gave another look of approval before sending me on my way to try on the other dress.

It was a simply black halter top. Tony had his designer design the dresses, one for the party he was throwing tonight in honor of defeating Loki a few weeks ago. And the other he threw in courteously once he found out about my anniversary with Bucky. His designer even went as far as designing two matching suits for Bucky, who would try them on once he returned from his mission later today.

“If Barnes didn’t have such a possessive streak on you, I’d snatch you up.” Tony smirked as he saw me in the floor length black halter top. His designer smiled in approval as she slid the previous dress and shoes into a dress bag.

“Careful Tony, talk like that will get you killed.” I laughed, doing a little spin.

“Good thing iceman isn’t here then.” Tony responded, nodding as I spun. He took in each angle. “Barnes better appreciate you the way you deserve, princess.”

“He does,” I smiled. He had for the past three years, why would now be any different. “You know he has.”

Tony nodded, smiling, but his body language didn’t match his happy expression. “Right, well firecracker, you have to get ready for the party tonight. Barnes tell you he’d meet you here?”

“No, he didn’t.” I said, walking back to the dressing room to dress in normal clothes. “M’sure just slipped his mind.”

“I’ll send a driver for you tonight at 8?” Tony offered.

“You don’t have to, but you know I can’t say no.” I chuckled, stepping back out in my jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. Handing his designer the black dress.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked, reaching for my wallet.

“Don’t worry about it princess, you’re a part of this team. I’ll cover it.” Tony waved me off. “Off you go, get ready for tonight.”

I smiled and thanked him before heading back out of his building and back to my apartment, hailing a taxi to get back to Brooklyn.

_____________

“Hey Bucky, can’t wait to see you tonight!”

I sent the text over two hours ago. Was he okay? Did something go wrong on the mission? Did Sam know where he was?

The thoughts swirled in my head in a frenzied panic. I took a deep breath, counting to ten before exhausting, and then forced myself to calm down. He was probably fine, maybe just taking a nap.

I shot Sam a quick text, after all, they went on the mission together. If I couldn’t reach Bucky, then maybe Sam could.

“You guys make it back okay?”

It was a good few minutes before I got a reply. So while I waited, I busied myself with my make up for the night. Black eyeliner, orange eyeshadow with a touch of gold glitter, and dark ember lip.

“Yeah, we got back a few hours ago. Why?”

I read the text, frowning slightly. Normally Bucky was so quick to respond or call when he got back.

“Is Bucky okay?”

I went back to doing my makeup, finishing the look with the highlighter, and it accentuated the contour.

“Yeah, he’s in a great mood.”

I again frowned at Sam’s response, typing out a quick ‘okay’ and then putting my phone down. Why hadn’t he called? Brushing it off my shoulders and figuring he had his reasons, I moved onto my hair.

I did a light curl, then did it half up and half down, with a few strands framing my face. I then slipped on the dress, the white ombré one. I checked the time, Tony’s driver would be here any minute now.

I slipped on the matching white ombré shoes, and grabbed a small, white purse wallet, quickly shoving the few belongings I’d need while at the party. Before putting my phone in, I checked Bucky’s message log.

Seen.

________

As soon as I walked back into the tower, it was extravagant. Tony never faltered when it came to parties. Strobe lights, a live band, Dj stepping in when the band needed a break. People crowding the floor, the music blaring loudly. Drinks clattering, laughter and conversation filling the empty space.

Sam beckoned me over to him. He stood next to Natasha, both of which wearing black, although while Sam wore a classy suit, Natasha stood in a floor length slit black glitter dress, long gloves to match, as hell as glitter heels.

“Hey girl, where’ve you been?” Natasha smiled and pulled me into a hug. “Don’t tell me Bucky’s been keeping you all to himself. Always so selfish when it comes to you.”

I laughed at Natsha’s comment and hugged Sam when Natasha let me go. “Actually I haven’t seen him.” I smiled.

“Still?” Sam asked, handing me a cocktail he grabbed from a passing server’s plate. “Really thought he would’ve messaged you by now.”

I frowned. “Something happen on the mission?”

“No, not that I know of.” Sam answered.

“Odd, that’s not like Barnes.” Natasha mused. “No matter for now, we’re here to have fun. So let’s have some fun!”

Natasha smiled deviously before grabbing the cocktail from my hand and handing it to Sam. She then pulled me out to the dance floor, in which we both laughed and danced for a bit. For a minute it was just like old times.

And it was then I saw him.

There he was, in the suit that had matched mine. White with the same red, orange and yellow ombré, the colors clashing with his eyes. Courtesy of Tony.

I stopped dancing. Natasha noticed, and stopped and followed my gaze. It was then she saw it too, then grabbed my hand and physically dragged me off the dance floor.

There Bucky was, speaking softly to Sharon. He had her caged against the wall, her hands pressed against his chest, a flirtatious smile on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked when Natasha dragged my back to Sam by the bar.

“Apparently nothing is wrong with Bucky.” Natasha snapped, gesturing over to him.

Meanwhile I stood, taking my cocktail from Sam and taking small sips. Forcing the tears to stay at bay. I felt like my head was under water, and I was swimming in a pool that had no walls to grab onto.

I barely registered when Sam looked over, Bucky’s lips were locked with Sharon’s. Sam scowled, his expression a firm grimace.

“Let’s get you some air babe.” Sam said, walking with me towards the balcony outside. It was quieter there, less commotion, and not nearly as many people.

Natasha busied herself with shoving everyone else inside, then closing the balcony door and standing inside to prevent anyone from interrupting.

I was quiet, sipping my cocktail and willing the tears to stay, not allowing myself to cry.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Sam said softly.

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less.” I whispered.

“I know.” Sam was quiet for a long moment. “But he doesn’t, not with how well you treated him.”

“You’re not helping.” I whispered, shying away.

Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.” He said, his voice soft.

I knew he was trying to be comforting, to help. But the only thing I could feel, see, was Bucky. Arms around her, kissing her, treating her like how he treated me. At least how he used to treat me.

I glanced back inside. He was still with her. Sharon, god she was beautiful. Blonde hair, skinny, perfectly sculpted eyebrows, thin nose, brown comforting eyes. I looked away, feeling sick- no, disgusted with myself.

What did she have that I didn’t?

“I think I’m just going to go home Sam.” I whispered softly.

He sighed softly, before pulling me into a tight hug. It was suffocating.

“Call me if you need anything.” Sam whispered, pressing a light kiss to the top of my forehead before letting me go.

I nodded, then went back inside, Natasha giving me a pitiful look as I walked out of the party. I made my way down to the garage, the damn finally breaking when I remembered I didn’t drive here.

I took off my heels and began walking outside of the tower, the tears now falling down my face. It was late out on the streets of New York, and here I was in a gorgeous dress, crying, arms wrapped tightly around myself the day before my anniversary.

I couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything. I felt like I was underwater, drowning in my own sorrows and pity.

What was so special about her? What did she have that I didn’t? Had he slept with her? Was she better in bed? Did he think about her when he was with me? How long had this been going on?

I didn’t see the car barreling towards me when I went to cross the road.

***********

I apologize in advance.

[barnesnatts]

SEBAASTIAN STAN, 'Oh my god, Sebastian Stan, man you looking good!' 

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

Satin

Part 1

MDNI!!

A/N: Wow the long awaited part two to Velveteen. I had to basically put a gun to my head to finish this :') I rewrote this way too many times, I'm not entirely pleased with the finished product but I WROTE THE THING!! And that will always be a victory in my book. I have yet to see Thunderbolts* because I have absolutely no time to go to the movies but!! When I do see it, get ready babes, I will be unstoppable. UM anyway, thanks to @ethanhoewke as always for being insane with me and helping me flesh this out, ily babe. Bucky Barnes x female reader, morning after, morning sex, oral sex (fem receiving), developing relationship, fluff & smut, Bucky recovering from being the WS, two dumbass cutie pies being horny or whatever <3

ALSO!!! If anyone wants to blow up my inbox with some Bucky requests, please do! I love writing for this 100 year old emotionally repressed fossil <3

Word count: 4.2k

Too bright. Way too fucking bright. The golden morning sunshine is searing through your blinds, drawing a whine of protest from your throat. It’s too early, that much is clear to you. Far too early to be awake. You almost want to hiss at the sun like a cartoon vampire being awoken from an eternal slumber. Shifting in the bed, trying to get your wits about you, two things become abundantly clear to you. One, you’re sore. Like, really fucking sore, like you got hit by a small bus or thrown through a brick wall. Two, there is without a doubt a man in bed next to you. Your foot brushes across a sleep-warm, hairy calf under the sheets. You can’t bear to open your eyes, opting to keep them screwed shut against the sun’s laser-like light and the fact that Bucky definitely stayed the night. 

With a deep breath, you peek one eye open, turning your head to the side. Your eye lands on Bucky, face down on a fluffy pink pillow, snoring like a goddamn chainsaw. His stupidly handsome face is squished into the cotton, brow furrowed like he’s personally affronted by your choice in bedding. One of his arms is thrown haphazardly across your middle and— holy fuck, his arms are fucking huge. Were they that big and beefy last night?! Surely, you’d remember biceps that fucking large. Your eyes hungrily rove over the tan, scarred flesh. God, he’s delicious, you’d sink your teeth into the fat and muscle right now if it wasn’t going to wake the poor man up. 

Trying oh so carefully to wiggle free from Bucky’s heavy, comforting weight, you reach blindly for your phone. Hand rooting and tapping uselessly along your side table, knocking just about every other item over in the process before your fingertips finally find purchase on it. You swipe it off the table, holding it up and squinting as you read the time. Half past eight, okay, that’s not too early. However, you choose the wrong time to squirm again. Bucky grunts in his sleep, his arm binding tighter around your waist and all but dragging you into his side. 

A surprised squeak bubbles past your lips, you tense up, scarcely allowing yourself to breathe. Who knew he was such a cuddle bug? So, you allow yourself to melt into it a little, because you honestly can’t recall the last time someone held you like this (not to mention after a night of ravenous fucking…)

Your phone, now lying on the mattress next to your hip, buzzes. You snatch it up quickly, hoping that it didn't stir the man next to you. You’re not ready for this impromptu cuddle session to be cut short. 

Girl are you dead?

Oh my god, we’re gonna be on Dateline! Talking about how great of a friend she was and I’ll have to cry on camera and wail about how she didn’t deserve this!! She was too young!!

Your friends are nothing if not dramatic and incessantly nosy. You love them though, like scruffy dogs you pick up from the pound that nobody else really wanted because they honestly seem kind of feral. With one hand, you quickly type out a reply, rolling your eyes at the theatrics of your group of gremlins. Your other hand, because you just can’t help yourself, absentmindedly cards through Bucky’s unfairly thick and soft hair. 

I’m not dead and I wouldn’t want you in my Dateline episode anyway, bitch.

The replies come immediately, in rapid succession, absolutely blowing up the group chat.

Holy fuck!! She lives!!

How did the date go? Did you finally dust those cobwebs out of your pussy? Or rather, did he? 

That’s a horrific visual, though you have to give Faye points for creativity. You’re not even entirely sure how to respond to that, because yes it had been awhile, but it hadn’t been that long. Words are failing you in this moment honestly, so you resort to the most damning option of all. With a trembling hand, you hold your phone a few scant inches above Bucky’s clueless, sleep-slack face. The photo is avant-garde level art. They should hang this shit up in the Louvre or paste it on billboards across the country. The Hello Kitty pillowcase, the strong line of Bucky’s nose buried in the fabric. The way his dark lashes create little spiderweb shadows on his usually so serious, broody face. He’s an angel, plain and simple. Cast down from the heavens to torture you and fuck you better, deeper than any of your ex-boyfriends did. Before you can second guess yourself, you send the photo to the group chat, shoving it under your pillow before you can see the immediate replies.

Buzz…buzz…buzz…

Your canine digs into your lower lip, biting back an exasperated smile. Your friends are, and always have been, veritably insane. You shouldn’t have told them about the date, or the fact that said date is still in your bed, in your apartment. You should have just turned your phone off, allowing yourself to sink into this syrupy, lazy little bubble of perfection. You could get used to having this man in your bed. Absolutely.

Your phone continues its angry vibrating like a little pissed off bumblebee beneath your head. So, you let out a long suffering sigh and check the 9+ notifications awaiting you.

HELLO???

Oh my god, I want to lick that cheekbone. Do I have a cheekbone fetish guys? This is awakening something in me.

Wait a fucking minute!!! Dude, that’s the Winter Soldier. 

Okay, that certainly catches your attention, because no he isn’t…is he? Wide eyes flick between your phone screen and Bucky’s peaceful face with the speed of a caffeinated hummingbird. What did the Winter Soldier even look like? It’s vague and fuzzy in your mind like TV static. You wrack your brain, desperately trying to recall what dominated the news cycle for weeks in 2014. Captain America, Natasha Romanoff, lots of explosions and property damage… A quick google search confirms your friend’s suspicions or rather accusations. There is without a doubt an ex-sleeper agent in your bed, you fucked an ex-sleeper agent. Were you in danger? Oh god, all you had on hand was one of those cheap cans of pepper spray. The only reason you’d really bought it was because it’s sparkly and also you wanted the illusion of self-defense. What the fuck was pepper spray going to do against an assassin? He’d probably sneeze at best and then rip you apart like a rotisserie chicken.

Before you can spiral into a full blown panic attack, complete with hyperventilating and popping an Ativan or two, Bucky groans sleepily, rousing. You freeze, eyes comically wide, lips parting like a child caught with their hand in a proverbial cookie jar. But the fear, the sense of self-preservation, the whole seconds away from shitting your bed, dissipates. It melts away like tissue paper in hot water, because his eyes open and they land on you. They remind you of the sea glass you used to collect as a girl, when your parents would whisk you off to the beach and you’d carry a little bucket around and feed the seagulls corn chips even though your mother explicitly instructed you not to.  His eyes sharpen just for a moment, your anxiety spikes, you hold your breath. And then, oh god, his gaze softens and you can’t help but feel utterly besotted by the very sight.

“Did I do that to you?” Bucky murmurs, sounding absolutely delicious and raspy and gravely. You try to reshape your brain back from the goo his eyes turned it into. He’s asking you a question and you’re sitting there smiling at him like a dope. He taps the side of his neck to emphasize the query, arching an eyebrow expectantly.

Your hand immediately flies up to mirror where his rests, brushing the pads of your fingers lightly down the side of your throat. You can’t bear to break his intense gaze, it feels like divorce, but then you wince because fucking ow! You spring out of bed, stumbling to the vanity, no longer concerned about appearing graceful or effortlessly pretty first thing in the morning. 

“Oh shit,” You breathe, staring at your reflection. You look ran through, like you got passed around a frat party or something within that vein of debauchery. Mascara and that winged eyeliner you were so proud of smeared and running down your cheeks, your neck, your tits absolutely covered in a variety of hickeys, bitemarks, bruises. You look like a demented racoon who got mauled by a particularly aggressive grizzly bear. Time to lock yourself in your bathroom and do some major recon.

Ten or so minutes later, you reappear with minty-fresh teeth and a clean face. A sheepish smile spreads across your lips as you resume your seat next to Bucky, “Uh, yeah, I think you did do that to me.” You quip awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, far too interested in fiddling with a loose thread on your fitted sheet. “I mean, obviously I liked it.” You can’t help but glance up quickly, heat burning your cheeks.

“Right,” Bucky snorts, smirking roguishly, and god you swear your pussy has butterflies. “I remember.”

“Hungry!” You blurt out, springing off the mattress, far too shy and idiotic to even attempt to carry on that particular route of conversation. “Are you hungry? I am definitely hungry! We should eat! In the kitchen.”

You attempt to smile, but it feels all wrong on your face, crooked and stilted by your own mortification at your lack of social graces. You don’t need to see the way your entire body is turning a rather unflattering shade of pink from the tips of your ears, down your chest-- you can feel it and it only worsens the matter. Bucky just huffs in amusement, a man of few words outside of rearranging your guts it seems, “Sure, doll. I’ll meet you out there.”

You all but sprint to the kitchen, eager to remove yourself from the situation before you further embarrass yourself. Thank fuck you cleaned your apartment before your date, the usual state its in would warrant entering the witness protection program if Bucky saw it. Unfortunately, you hadn’t anticipated preparing a full breakfast spread, so you find the bare bones of your pantry. Cup of noodles, a brown banana (unclear to you if it’s really ripe or hazardous), and whole milk that’s one day out from being past its expiration date. Wonderful.

“What’s for breakfast?” Bucky's voice comes from behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin, the way he snuck up on you could have very well sent you to an early grave. Definitely was an efficient assassin, you’ll give him that.

“Oh, um, I’m not sure…” You mumble, back to Bucky, acting as if you’re perusing an entire treasure trove of options. “Do you like noodles and milk?” You ask tentatively, peeking at him over your shoulder.

He blinks, seemingly unsure if you’re joking around, and if you aren’t, he has no clue how to respond.

“What type of noodles?” He asks after a moment, crossing his thick arms, leaning back against the kitchen island.

“The cup kind,” You mutter, glaring a hole into the tile.

“I’m sorry?” Buck huffs, tilting his head to the side like an adorably confused puppy, a puppy who’s had over two dozen confirmed kills.

“Um,” You lick your lips, your mouth feeling suddenly bone dry, an explanation sticking to the roof of your mouth like bubblegum, “You know, cup of noodles? It’s like, a styrofoam cup and there’s ramen in it with seasoning. You put hot water in it… the, uh, packaging actually says not to microwave it, but who listens to that anyw--”

Your lame little rambling is cut off by the gentle pressure of Bucky’s lips slotting against yours, his large hands cupping your face, holding you like you’re the most precious, delicate thing in the world. You melt, your train of thought fizzling out into goo, so you press up onto your tiptoes, eagerly returning the kiss. Bucky starts to move away, but you spring forward, chasing his lips, whining like the needy little thing you are. 

He chuckles, lips barely brushing yours, murmuring, “So you have noodles in a cup?”

“Cup of noodles,” You correct breathlessly, pupils blown wide as saucers after taking that mainline of pure Bucky.

“Tomatoe, tomato,” He snorts, slowly sweeping the pad  of his thumb down the bridge of your nose, “Are we having anything else with these noodles? A plate of broth, maybe?”

“Uh, no, just almost sour milk and if you’re really feeling brave, a very brown banana.” You’re silently planning your suicide note, because why of all the times your fridge had to be empty, it’s when Bucky is here after a night of insane sex. Sex that quite frankly, rewired your brain and probably ruined any chance of another man coming close to what Bucky made you feel.

“A very filling spread,” Bucky hums dryly, cracking a small grin. You can’t help but smile in return, your heart doing a funny little flutter. This man is going to give you a heart murmur. 

“Well, I mean, if you’re not busy…” you start, looking anywhere but at him, wringing your hands together shyly, “We could go get breakfast?”

Bucky watches you silently, thinking over your suggestion. “A second date already? Wow, you move fast.” He drawls lazily.

Your face is on fire as you desperately start to back track, “Oh! Um, I mean, you don’t have to! You can leave! I won’t hold you hostage or force you to get breakfast with me. I just thought maybe it would be better than risking it with the banana.”

Buck chuckles, stepping forward, entering your personal space. He still smells like smoke and cinnamon even after a night in your ultra-femme sheets. The rough pad of his finger slips under your chin, tilting your face up towards his. His eyes are the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced, guarded yet so expressive at the same time. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, doll. Relax.” He whispers, voice silky and deep. There’s a moment, it’s so brief, so fleeting, you almost don’t catch it. The walls lower for a heartbeat, and Bucky asks so achingly soft, “Was… last night good for you?”

You can’t help but freeze, because is he seriously asking you that? Bucky interprets your silence as a bad thing, his face falling subtly, he shifts on his feet, taking a step backwards that feels like a mile. 

“No! No, I had an amazing time last night. You were amazing,” You blurt out, hands shooting up to gesture wildly. 

Bucky’s relief is a tangible thing, his shoulders lowering, the crease in his brow smoothing out. “Oh, good. I’m glad, I don’t…” he clears his throat, running his vibranium hand through his cropped hair, “I don’t usually do this.” He admits, gesturing vaguely around your apartment, “The whole sex on the first date, spending the night thing.”

The butterflies in your stomach break out into a spontaneous synchronized swimming routine. And you can feel your blood rush to your cheeks and then lower, much lower. It’s flattering, the way he confesses that he doesn’t do this and apparently you’re an exception to his vintage dating etiquette. Though, you’re almost certain there definitely would be a rule in there about not leaving your partner looking like they got mauled by an angry vacuum cleaner.

Not that you’re complaining…

So, you laugh nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I hope I didn’t make you feel pressured or anything.”

Bucky snorts— the man actually snorts, at that statement, as if it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in a long time. “A little thing like you? Pressuring me? Nah, doll, I liked it. I like you.”

Liquid sunshine spreads through your veins and you nod dumbly along with what he’s saying, “Oh, right. You, um, like me, huh?”

He steps into your space, the heat of his body seeping into yours as he gently runs a finger along the curve of your spine, “Yes, I like you. More than I probably should.” He affirms, that exploratory hand coming to rest just above the swell of your ass. It slides down, he squeezes the fat and flesh gently, as if testing the weight of it in his vibranium palm. 

“What a coincidence,” you squeak, all the finesse and coyness from the night before evaporating into the atmosphere, leaving behind your usual awkward self, “I happen to like you too. Not sure about the more than I should part. That makes it sound like I’m in danger…oh god, I’m not in danger, am I?”

Bucky silences you with a searing kiss, his criminally soft lips slotting against yours, rubbing deliciously, pulling a high pitched whine from your throat. The hand on your ass squeezes hard, grounding you, ripping you from your inward spiral. Bucky backs you up against the kitchen counter and with a strength only a super soldier could muster, he sweeps you up, depositing you to sit on the edge of the island. Your thighs part, making space for him to stand between them, and your arms loop around his neck. You deepen the kiss, arching into the hard plane of his chest, fingers threading and tugging at his hair. He groans, low and unbearably sexy, into your mouth, strong arms wrapping around your waist like a python. 

His tongue expertly delves into your mouth, tracing the sharp edges of your teeth, tasting the sleep-sweet saliva welling up beneath your tongue. Emboldened, you wrap your lips around his tongue, sucking the slick muscle, earning another delicious grunt from Bucky. His arms bind around your waist tighter, till you feel like you might pop, splattering the kitchen in one thousand shades of red. There’s barely a breath of space between your bodies, the two of you slotting together like long lost puzzle pieces, reunited at long last. It’s heaven, it’s hell, the kiss is enough, you could cum just like this. Happily, easily, and that’s more than you can say about any other man you’ve been with. 

Bucky breaks the kiss and you whine, feeling as if you might burst into tears if he stops touching you. He shushes you, sinking slowly to his knees on the kitchen tile, peering up at you through dark lashes. Hands gently pull you to the edge of the counter, as he sits back on his haunches. Bucky takes your left foot, holding it in his organic hand as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, placing a worshipful kiss to the inside of your ankle. Kiss after kiss is trailed up the length of your calf, the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble create a juxtaposition of sensations that send goosebumps erupting across your body, fine hairs standing to attention. When Bucky reaches the inside of your knee, his tongue flicks out, tickling the sensitive flesh. You tense up, instincts screaming to wriggle away from the feeling, but Bucky holds you steady. He doesn’t kiss the start of your thigh, opting to just drag his stubble across the smooth skin, back and forth. His teeth nip playfully as he gets closer and closer to the center of your body. Each snap of teeth immediately remedied by a soothing brush of lips. Your cunt flutters, you can feel your heartbeat in your clit, throbbing insistently. Begging for friction, for penetration, for something to ease the molten ache rapidly growing between your legs.

When Bucky reaches the apex of your thighs, he doesn’t move your sleep shorts to the side, not yet. He leans forward, pressing his face into the fabric, into the flesh, and inhales deeply. An obscene, drawn out sniff, and he moans at the salty, musky scent of arousal that greets his nostrils. His fingers dig into your spread thighs, massaging, marking. He kisses your cunt over your shorts, over your underwear. And then, with no further warning or preamble, he rips the fabric off. Cotton falls in tatters to the floor, leaving you bare and flushed to his gaze.

You realize faintly that it’s definitely brighter in your apartment now and neither of you are tipsy, so you should feel at the very least a bit self conscious about Bucky being eye level with your bare cunt but he drags the tip of his nose from the inside of your knee up, up, up to the crevice where your thigh and labia meet. Every coherent thought flies out the window; he licks maddeningly slow, just shy of firm from hole to clit. Your hands scramble to grasp the edge of the counter, hanging on for dear life.

“Oh, fuck!” You curse, throwing your head back, dragging your ass to the edge of the counter, so close to falling off. You’re shaking like a leaf in a storm, Bucky’s mouth is cruel and heavenly in equal measure, finding your clit easily. He sucks the swollen bud into his mouth like a piece of hard candy.

And you decide if Bucky remains a fixture in your life, you will absolutely be tossing out your beloved vibrator. You won’t need it anymore now that you have unrestricted access to Bucky’s hands, Bucky’s mouth, Bucky’s dick…but you’ll still hang onto her for now because if last night and this morning are a two-time thing, you’ll need that pink hunk of plastic to get off to the memory of this perfect moment for the foreseeable future. 

Bucky moans into the folds of your pussy, eating you out ravenously, like he’ll die if he doesn’t make you cum on his tongue at least thrice. His hands grip your thighs harder, spreading you wider, opening you up to him like a delicate flower. You can’t hold yourself up, not in these conditions, so you lie back on the kitchen island. You spread as wide as you can, giving yourself over fully to Bucky’s mouth. 

“Please,” you breathe out, screwing your eyes shut, your entire body pulled taut like a bowstring, “Oh god, please.”

You don’t know what you’re begging for, or what god you’re calling on, all you know is the heat and the suction of his mouth. It’s embarrassing, how easily Bucky manipulates your body, how close he’s bringing you to the precipice after only a few minutes. But fuck, if it doesn’t feel good, the pleasure vastly outweighs the embarrassment. In fact, it feels so mind-numbingly good, you swear your brain is melting and leaking out your ears. Then, Bucky’s tongue swipes, a perfect arc right over where you want him, need him most. You tense up as if you’ve been electrocuted, moaning brokenly.

“Oh my god, right there,” you wheeze, borderline hyperventilating, “Please, just like that. Don’t stop, please.”

Bucky doubles down, his ferocity turning into a beast, and you worry you might just die from this. You clench around nothing, squirming weakly, chasing that ever elusive peak. The warmth turns into a fever pitch, you gasp and whimper, bucking into his mouth, simultaneously wanting to escape and to arch into him. When Bucky’s tongue curls into your cunt, the striking line of his nose digging into your clit, your mouth falls open. You tense up, hardly able to move or breathe. 

Your orgasm spreads through you like a wave, from the hair follicles on your scalp, down to your curling toes. Your spine arches clean off the counter, hips bucking wildly, legs clamping around Bucky’s head. You pant, gasping for air, twitching amidst the aftershocks as Bucky tongue fucks you through every ripple. Only when you’re limp, boneless, brain dead, does he rise to his feet. He watches you with dark, hooded eyes, unashamedly licking his lips and moaning at the taste of your orgasm. If you weren’t absolutely winded, you would’ve had the good sense to blush at the display. 

He rubs your thighs soothingly, up and down, silently watching as you come back to this plane of reality. He reaches down, helping you slowly sit up, smoothing your wild hair down, and kisses your forehead, “Breakfast?” He murmurs against your temple. 

“Huh?” You mumble, blinking up at him, confused and too fucked out to follow the current track of the conversation. 

“I’m not eating a noodle cup, come on,” Bucky nudges you gently, helping you back down to the floor, “I think there’s a diner a few miles down from here. It’ll be our second date, like you said.”

With shaky legs, you wobble to your bedroom, “It’s cup of noodles.” You mutter under your breath, smiling softly. 

And when you’re on the back of Bucky’s bike, face smushed into the leather of his jacket, when you’re sitting across from him in the diner, laughing so hard chocolate milk shoots out of your nostrils…he may have once been the Winter Soldier, he may have killed at least two dozen people, but now? He’s holding your face in his hands like you’re the center of his universe. He’s paying for the bill like a gentleman. And when he drops you off back home, he pulls his dog tags off, guiding them over your head, giving them to you, claiming it’s so you have to call him back. He’s just Bucky, he’s your Bucky, plain and simple.

[m8why]

Just a normal day for our diva 💅

Found on Pinterest and credit goes to owner 💗

[elkleggs]

Continuing my Whip & Fiddle series on patreon with maybe my favourite ever Steve drawing 🫡

[u-n-c-o-m-m-o-n]

maybe eating healthy isn't that worth it...

You (2019), Fresh (2022), Companion (2025)