#sweet bucky

[eat-limes-bitches]

Winds

*Part of the Stages of a Storm collection*

PAIRING: Female Avenger! Reader x  Bucky Barnes 

WARNINGS: Angst, Injury, depression, crying, hurt/comfort, Soft! Bucky

(This story was highly inspired by You Don’t Know by Katelyn Tarvern)

The wind shows us just how close to the edge we really are

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Any other day, the view would be enough to calm the turmoil swirling through her head, but being stuck back at base in a wheelchair while her teammates were out fighting the next battle was too much for her to handle. It had been 6 weeks since Y/N had fractured her pelvis and femur and was removed from field work ‘until further notice’ as Tony said. They had also assigned her a babysitter, Bucky was staying back from all missions now, just to watch over her, making sure she was safe and was well taken care of. What she didn’t know was that Bucky wasn’t forced to do this, he begged them to let him stay back. Y/N had wormed his way into his heart from the moment she stepped foot in the compound and he didn’t trust anyone else with her care, which is how he found himself here, watching his little spitfire be more of a wisp of smoke as she stared out the window, gripping the mug in her hands with a vice grip.

 Taking a deep breath, he walked over to her and sat down next to her and watched her for a moment. The tattoos on her arms that would normally glow and fluctuate with the fire she tamed inside was now an ashy black, almost seeming to fade in some places. Her eyes were hollow missing the spark that usually lived there and her overall spunk was gone. “Hey darlin, I know this sucks, but how are you doin’?” Bucky asked softly, placing his hand on the armrest of her chair. Y/N shook her head, refusing to look at Bucky , instead focusing on picking the skin around her nails.  “You were right about the sucking part.” She grumbled, setting her mug down on the table and examining her hands. “I haven’t been able to conjure a flame in weeks, I don’t know who I am anymore.” Bucky placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to find the right words to say but she shrugged him off. “ I'm so tired, sitting here waiting. If I hear one more "Just be patient", It's always gonna stay the same.” Bucky felt his heart sinking at her confession, “Doll…” he started but was cut off by her speaking again, “Let me just give up, let me just let go.” Bucky placed his hand on her shoulder again causing Y/N to turn and look at him. She took in the worried look on his face before speaking again, “If this isn't good for me, I don't wanna know. I don't want your good advice, or reasons why I'm alright.” She took a watery breath and spoke again, “I need some air.”

Y/N removed herself from Bucky's presence and wheeled away from him and onto the balcony, hoping the cool air from the approaching storm could help her find the air that had been missing from her lungs. She closed her eyes and focused on the wind whipping her hair around when she heard the door open and close before heavy footsteps made their way towards her. She opened her eyes only to be met with Bucky’s concerned gaze looking right back at her. She was captivated by the blue orbs for a moment before she blinked and shook her head. “Don’t look at me like that.” This caused Bucky to arch an eyebrow slightly, “Like what.” Y/N looked at him again before her hardened expression crumpled slightly, “Like you can see right through me. I’m afraid you’ll end up seeing me the way I see myself.” She whispered as tears began to freely flow down her face. 

Bucky’s heart broke and he kneeled down beside her, taking her face in his hands and wiping the tears away with his thumbs, “Oh darlin’, what do you need from me?” Sniffling, she looked into Bucky’s eyes and began to wonder when she loved the feeling of his hands on her skin and how vibrant his eyes were. Shaking the thought from her head she took a deep breath and the words that left her mouth were ones Bucky never thought he would hear, let alone directed at him, “I could really use a hug. I feel so alone.” Careful not to jostle her, Bucky wrapped Y/N up in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead while whispering softly, “You won’t ever be alone as long as I’m around, doll. Never.”

[nickfowlerrr]

https://www.tumblr.com/nickfowlerrr/760258643802406912 BEEFY BUCKY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE *gasping breath in* PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

change of pace

pairing: beefy!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. unprotected sex. a little bit of fluff. not edited!

words: 1.1k

notes: ask and ye shall receive 😌 lol when i reblogged that post you know he was all i was thinking about 🥴 lol thank you for sending this, e! 🫶🏻

thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. hope you enjoy this little drabble! 🩵

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his eyes squeezed shut while he’s breathing heavy, his hands clenching the back of the couch threatening to break the wooden frame of it. Bucky’s head is thrown back in pleasure as you slowly sink down on his throbbing cock.

He can’t see the way your lips part at the stretch of him, or how you stifle your own moan as you take him in, or the twinkle in your eyes at the sight of him already flushed and lost in the feeling of you straddling his lap, your hands on his chest as you sit on his cock.

His fingers flex as he grips the couch, doing his best to control himself and let you set the pace. Your hands glide up his chest to around his neck as you lift yourself off his lap, until just his tip is inside you, your fingers in his hair as he gulps a breath. You stay for a moment and wait until you see him relax for just a second before you sit back down, his thickness impaling you in the best way.

He whimpers the most beautiful moans you think you’ve ever heard as his eyes scrunch tighter, his lips in a pout as you slowly start to really ride his cock.

“Baby, please,” he begs softly, cheeks pink as he turns his face away from you. His eyes are still closed tight, he’s both too shy and too worked up to look at you right now.

“What’s the matter?” you ask breathily, your torturous movements not faltering as you lean closer to him, your breasts pressing against his chest and your fingers curling in his hair as your soft lips ghost his ear before you lightly kiss his face, another pathetic moan slipping from the beefy man beneath you at the gentle kiss.

His bright blue eyes flutter open then as he turns his face toward you, pout still in place, his eyes much darker than they were a few minutes ago, but that gleam in them ever present.

You titter as your noses brush and you know exactly what he wants before he even says it.

You’re sinking lower on his dick as he finally speaks.

“Kiss me,” he pleads, not even trying to hide how desperately he wants to feel your lips on his. You don’t keep him waiting too long before you give in to his request. Your kiss is soft at first as you keep rolling your hips, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth and his moans against your lips fueling your movements.

Slowly, Bucky lets his arms fall from their place along the back of the couch before he drags his hands up your thick thighs. You don’t stop him so he keeps going.

His heavy palms finding your ass, squeezing the ample flesh there as he follows your movements up and down his fat cock.

His touch dances up to your back and then his hands find their place settling on the curve of your waist meeting your hips. All the while, Bucky kisses you greedily while you let him, your own moans muffled by his mouth.

He squeezes your waist lightly and you don’t know what snaps or takes over you but suddenly you’re spurred on in your movements. It’s not slow rolls if your hips anymore, no. Now you’re bouncing up and down his thick cock as he chokes out a moan in surprise. His big hands are gripping you tight but he doesn’t dare deter you or want you to slow down. He just needs to feel you, needs to touch you and your soft fucking body that he won’t ever get enough of. The way you take him, the way you make him feel, it’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. You’re indescribable. You’re incomparable. You’re fucking everything.

He doesn’t know how or why he’s suddenly so overcome with emotion but he feels his eyes sting as he watches you, mesmerized by you on top of him, your breasts bouncing with every raise of your hips, your mouth open as you breathe heavily, soft moans of pleasure spilling out of you.

It feels so good. Everything feels so good, he can’t stop himself. He cries meekly, the most pathetic noise leaving him as his balls squeeze tighter and tighter with your every bounce. His hands tight on your hips and he whimpers again, “Baby, fuck, ohhh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grits, puffing as he tries to hold himself back. You speed up your movements, feeling your walls squeeze even tighter around his thick length as you get closer too.

Bucky slips his hands from your waist to your heavy breasts, grabbing them and squeezing them in his big hands before he lets his lips and tongue slide all over them, kissing them, licking them, before he wraps his lips around one of your pert nipples, sucking and licking the sensitive bud as you whine and moan in the intense pleasure it sends through you. He’s moaning as he takes his pleasure in kind, showing the same dedication to your other breast as you move atop him.

He’s so close. So fucking close. He buries his face in your chest as he holds you close, whimpers and pleas spilling from him as you fuck him perfectly.

“Please let me cum, baby, please,” he grips your hips again. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s almost pained from how badly he wants to just let go. To fill you up and keep you leaking him for the rest of the day. His balls twitch at the thought and he cries out again.

You reach a hand down behind you and gently squeeze him and he almost doesn’t even hear your permission to cum inside you as he shoots his load despite himself the very second he felt your touch. Groans and debauched whimpers leaving him as he holds you down on his lap, finally letting himself move as he bucks up into you.

You have to hold onto him as he fucks into you. Your own moans and whimpers mingling with his as he brings you to your own orgasm without even really trying, your silky walls tightening around his cock and milking him as he rides out your shared high.

His head is on your chest as he keeps you in place on his thick lap, heavy breaths and sighs leaving you both as you hold his head to you, your fingers playing in his hair.

“I love you,” he breathes against you, his eyes closed in bliss as you pet him. You smile down at him, and he doesn’t see it, but he feels it when you place a kiss on head and hold him closer. His arms tighten around you before he carefully turns you both so you’re laying down on the couch now, him on top of you, head still on your chest as you murmur back with that same soft smile,

“I love you, too.”

[hinakyuu]

Bucky Barnes & Sarah Wilson | THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

[ace-bucket]

Alpine ‘menace’ Rogers-Barnes

[bethsvrse]

when they give off too sweet by hozier vibes>>

[navybrat817]

Do you think Bucky would be possessive if you aren't his girl?

Nonnie, I think you forgot a word at the end of your question.

YET.

You aren't his girl yet.

But imagine Bucky is sitting at a table and a few agents are sitting there as well. He tries to block out the chatter, until one of them mentions your name. Followed by his.

"Barnes, you hitting that?"

Which would have him seeing red. Because he wants to fuck you, yes. He also wants to give you the care you deserve. He wants you to be his completely.

"If you're asking if she's my girl," he says as calmly as he can manage, "No."

"So, I have a chance," the agent smirks.

That look is quickly wiped away when Bucky takes a knife out of what appears to be thin air and drives it through the table as the chatter ceases. The blade is right between the agent's fingers. Miraculously, he didn't get cut.

The former Asset is that good.

"You didn't let me finish. She's not my girl yet. So, no, you don't have a chance."

But the question is, did you happen to walk in and witness the event or did word get around?

Love and thanks! ❤️

[heretoobsessstuff]

My favourite scene: Gale’s last dance

Something I noticed when rewatching this scene is how the people around Buck are all watching Gale dance with meatball but Gale only looks at John. John is the only person Gale has eyes for and seems to care about watching him. When he winks at John its as if he does it to ease John’s nerves and for John to remember him this way: dancing with meatball and being happy and John looks at him as if he wants to commit every second of this to his memory.

[carnevol]

Callum?? Oh you're awful!

[lefthandarm-man]

Bucky Barnes // The Winter Soldier Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

appreciation post for bucky's hair in catws

[eat-limes-bitches]

Rain

*Part of the Stages of a Storm collection*

PAIRING: Female Avenger! Reader x  Bucky Barnes

WARNINGS: Angst, Injury, depression, crying, hurt/comfort, Soft! Bucky, Sweet! Bucky, so-many-pet-names. Fluff!

Tags: @cjand10​

(This story was highly inspired by Eye Of The Storm by Caleb Hearn)

On a lonely night, with the rain pouring outside of your window and the fragrance of the soil gets deep in you, so what’s it gonna be, memories or regrets of the past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N laid in the dark staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to sleep but every time she shifted to get comfortable and involuntary hiss would leave her lips as a little jolt of pain would shoot up her leg. 15 minutes later she gave up on sleep altogether and carefully sat up in bed, reaching for her crutches. She was ecstatic when Doctor Cho said that she didn’t have to stay in the wheelchair, at least she could do more things on her own without bothering Bucky. She paused in her movements when his name ran through her mind.  Ever since that day on the balcony, she found it easier to go to him for help, but she still couldn’t help but feel like she was annoying him. With a grunt, Y/N lifted herself to her feet and with the help of her crutches wandered out to the common room.

She stopped in front of the balcony doors, observing the rain as it softly tapped against the deck. As she stood still, her mind began to wander, would she ever be allowed back in the field? Would they get rid of her once they figured out they were better off without her? Was Tony taking her out of the field their way of letting her off slowly? She brought her left hand up to her face and rubbed her eyes, trying to get the thoughts to leave but they only seemed to be getting louder. Once this was all over, would Bucky go back to just being polite, only giving her a passing greeting? He had to be sick and tired of her by now. She was an avenger for fucks sake, she shouldn’t need help getting the book she dropped, let alone getting dressed. “God I’m such a fucking disappointment!” She roared, hurling her crutches across the room. The force from her throw caused her to lose her balance and fall to the ground, luckily not landing on her right hip, but it was jarring enough that it lit up her body with pain, causing her to cry out.

Down the hall, Bucky was woken up by a crashing sound, if that wasn’t enough to put him on edge, the sharp cry Y/N let out was and he launched himself out of bed. He rushed into the common room, ready to take on any enemy that dared to show their face but he was only met with the sight of Y/N on the floor, lying on her left side groaning in pain while her crutches were clear across the room. Bucky was by Y/N’s side in an instant, hovering his hands above her body, afraid to touch her for fear of causing more pain. “Y/N? Are you ok? What happened?” He asked frantically, as he gently helped her up and onto the couch. Y/N refused to look at him, taking more interest in her fuzzy socks than the man in front of her. Bucky crouched down  and used his right hand to move her gaze to meet his, “Honey? Are you alright?” He asked softly. Y/N searched his face for a moment before pushing her way into his arms, surprising Bucky but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her. “Baby, what’s going on?” He asked worriedly, his pulse rate increasing when Y/N took in a deep shuddery breath, “I’m so tired Buck, but I can't sleep. My head is running miles but I can't breathe.” Bucky sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before he gently scooped her up in his arms. His heart broke at the little whimper that slipped past her lips. “Sh, sh. It’s ok, love. I’ve got you. Let’s get you in bed, ok?” Y/N didn’t reply, she just snuggled deeper into his arms as he walked down the hallway to his room.

He gently placed her on his bed and she watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, returning a moment later with some pain killers and a cup of water, both of which he gave to her, murmuring words of praise as she took the pills. Once, the cup was empty, Bucky took it from her grasp and placed it on the bed side table before rounding the bed and getting in on the opposite side, reaching over and pulling her into his chest. She snuggled into the soft material of his black t-shirt as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before asking, “What’s going through your mind that’s got you so worked up, doll?” Y/N froze, trying to decide if she should tell him but when he gently cupped her face with his right hand and looked at her with nothing but adoration and concern, her walls crumbled down. “It's- I just can’t help feeling like I’m nothing but a burden now. I mean, what avenger needs help putting on fucking pants in the morning?” Bucky hummed softly, “One who put their life on the line to save the world.” He replied, causing Y/N to scoff. “And then there is you.” Bucky froze, looking at her quizzically as he waited for her to continue. “What about me?”  Y/N shook her head, looking away from him as she spoke, “You’ve been such an amazing friend, staying behind and taking care of me, but I can’t help but feel like you’re gonna walk away soon. If you do that, I don’t think I can do this on my own.” It was Bucky’s turn to scoff, “Well for one, I’m not just gonna up and abandon you, I’m your friend, I’m always gonna help you. And two, even if you didn’t have me, you’re so strong. You’d be fine on your own.” Y/N shook her head looking Bucky deep in the eye, “All of my thoughts screaming loud, saying that I'll never make it out. 'Cause I'm falling deeper and deeper into my head, and I'm scared that I can't see the light at the end of this, but you. You’ve been a lantern in my darkness, and I don’t think you realize just how much you mean to me.” 

Bucky was shocked, he wasn’t sure how to respond, but before he could say anything, Y/N started speaking again, this time through a yawn, “I’m supposed to start PT in a couple of weeks, will you be there?” Bucky chuckled lightly, watching as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “Every step of the way.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But for now, just get some sleep darling. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Surrounded by Bucky’s warm scent and the rain outside gently pittering against the glass, she was asleep in seconds, Bucky drifting off not long after. 

[nervouseden]

Bucky being Bucky in bed.

(How I think he'd act)

Warnings! NSFW. Soft!Dom!Bucky. Choking. Light power play. Pet names (Amare(love), doll, baby). Fingering. Unprotected sex (DON'T DO ITS BAD). Praise. Sweet!Bucky. Grinding. Fluff. Light aftercare.

Bucky is a massive tease, making you wait, making you squirm, making you beg, all just because he likes to see what he does to you.

Bucky would spread soft kisses all along your body, starting from your face, going down your neck, to your abdomen, and so forth.

Bucky's kisses often get more intense as he works his way down your body, practically sucking on your skin by the time he's at your hips and thighs. "Fuck, Doll, you taste so good."

Bucky loves wrapping his Vibranium hand around your throat, squeezing his metal fingers and thumb at the sides of your throat just enough to cut off a little oxygen and heighten your senses and pleasure, but never enough to actually hurt you. He cares too much.

Bucky would always take his time warming you up, spitting on his hand, slowly stretching you with his finger, then adding another just as you start to get comfortable with the first.

He curls his fingers inside you, speeding them up and adding a third, holding your hips down with his metal hand, leaving faint red marks that will turn to light bruises he'll tease later on.

Bucky groans low in his throat, loving the way you feel around his fingers, but needing you around his cock. Now.

Bucky suddenly pulls his fingers from you, spitting on his cock, the tip against your entrance. "Are you ready, amare?"

When you give him permission, he starts to carefully prod his cock at your hole, slowly pushing in inch by inch, watching you for any discomfort or pain, gently rubbing your neck and shoulders in a comforting gesture.

Once Bucky's fully inside you, he stills his hips, giving you time to adjust as he leans down and peppers small kisses along your face and neck, whispering words of encouragement.

"You feel so good,"

"So fuckin' perfect,"

"You're doing incredible, taking me so well."

"Love how you feel, darling..."

Bucky starts to slowly rock his hips, making small thrusts, careful not to hurt you. He'd never want to hurt you, you're his everything.

As Bucky feels you adjust, he softly speaks. "Remember our safe word?" Only when you say yes, does he start to actually move, his cock starting to slide a little bit deeper with each thrust.

His hips move against yours in rhythmic motions, pumping into your body fast and pulling out slowly, before pumping in again.

Bucky leans down again to kiss your lips as his hips speed up even more. "Feels s'good..." He praises, his flesh hand on your hip, warm and soft as it rubs circles on your smooth skin.

Bucky sucks on your lower thighs as he continues to plow into you, his flesh hand wrapping around one of your thighs as his vibranium hand wraps loosely around your neck. "I wanna feel you cum, amare..."

Bucky trails kisses down your neck and jaw, sucking on the skin behind your collarbone as he feels both of you getting closer.

He lifts your legs, putting your thighs flesh against his chiseled chest, kissing the flesh as your calves hang over his shoulders, his cock scraping deeper into you with the new angle.

His breath is ragged now, feeling both of you teetering on the edge of release. Bucky leans even further down, bending your thighs with him as he bites into your shoulder, squeezing your throat even tighter as he thrusts harder.

Bucky feels you squeeze around his cock your climax hitting you, and that's all it takes. A low, animalistic growl leaves him as he pulls out of your body replacing his cock with his flesh fingers, cumming on your chest, stomach, and pelvis as he grinds his cock against your thigh.

He shudders and moans, moving his fingers inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm as he releases your shoulder from his teeth, softly sucking and kissing the sting away from it.

Once you start coming down from your high, he slows his fingers, smiling softly at you. "You did so good, Doll." Bucky kisses your lips softly, his own gentle and affectionate.

He pulls back from your lips, resting his forehead against yours, smiling, and staring into your eyes. "You feelin' okay?"

Bucky smiles at you, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, then your cheek, your chin, your other cheek, then pulls your left hand up to kiss each knuckle, then does the same with your right. "I'm so proud of you, you were so good for me, baby."

He moves off of you, reaching to the bedside table, grabbing a baby wipe. "Just gonna clean you up a little, that alright?"

Once you give permission to Bucky, he smiles, taking the baby wipe, gently wiping the cum and excess sweat from your chest, tummy, pelvis, and entrance, making sure to be both cautious and meticulous.

After Bucky cleans you up, he throws the wipe away and crawls back into bed with you, lightly kissing each bruise and hickey he made on your hips, thighs, and neck. "You look so incredible, Baby."

Bucky then lies down next to you on his back, pulling you onto his chest. He plays with your hair with his flesh hand, while his metal hand rubs small circles on your back. "I love you, Doll."

[intrepidacious]

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[anonymityisfunwriter]

too sweet

pairing: bucky barnes x reader summary: he knows you're too sweet, but it won't stop him from trying to enter heaven's gate.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityisFun’s SongFics Anon's Birthday Celebration

not to be annoying about this, but i am convinced people are not hearing this song. convinced.

like the wedding bells as he rejects you?

he’s literally hearing wedding bells as he says you’re too sweet for him, as he tries to hold you at arms' length.

you’re sweet as a grape, soft as a vine?? if you could sit in a barrel he’ll wait???

he'll wait. he'll wait until he can have you all to himself. because really, at the root of the song... is gluttony.

wanting someone that you know is too sweet for you. wanting them anyway. wanting far more than just your fill. wanting everything and more. the taste of you will never be enough.

pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, sloth.

the seven deadly sins.

and gluttony was always bucky's poison.

down to his core, he was a glutton. a glutton for punishment. a glutton for love. a glutton for you.

he knew it from the moment his eyes feasted upon you, taking you in as the newly minted SHIELD agent. his own personal circle of hell.

he's starving, desperate to put his lips to something. he just knows there would be something so especially gluttonous about wrapping his teeth around you.

he's not sure how long he can wait, but he knows he has no choice but to wait.

his teeth would rot if he allowed himself a taste.

he'd miss the feeling of bitter whiskey sliding down this throat if he allowed himself a taste.

you're simply too sweet. but he's nothing if not a patient man. he'll build the barrel for you to sit in, if you'd like.

after all, even the sweetest grapes eventually turn into wine.

you're so blissfully unaware of it, of his scheming, his puppeteering, pulling your strings from the moment he'd set his sights on you.

that very first night, he invites you - and other agents to avoid suspicion - to drink with him.

you're all so eager for the team's approval. clamoring for a taste of their approval.

and yet, you're the only one brave enough to look him in the eye.

he has to admire your nerve as you, without invitation, slide into the barstool from beside him. "thank you for inviting us. i'm sure you had better things to do than be here with new recruits."

he shifts in his barstool, his eyes gleaming with amusement, "what makes you so sure about that?"

"oh, i just - i guess i just assumed."

he really likes the faint blush of your cheeks in the dim bar light. he's sure in that moment. sure that you're far too good. far too sweet.

and more sure than ever that he'll wait however long it'll take if he can keep you.

"i'll take a whiskey. neat." he juts his chin at you. "you?"

you shake your head, offering a twitch of a smile. "oh, just a water. thanks."

"not much of a drinker?"

"no, not really."

too sweet.

too sweet.

too sweet.

he knows that. he knows he's inhaled too much smoke in his life. even considering dragging you down to the pits of his hell has to be blasphemy. he knows it all.

and yet, he can see it.

he can see you waking by his side, dark as a lake.

he can hear it, the wedding bells clanging through his bones like a death knell.

he can taste your lips, sweet as ambrosia.

he may not be a virtuous man, but patience he would have. for you. he'll kneel and worship at your altar for the rest of his life if you'll let him enter heaven's gate.

and like any good man, he bides his time. sitting and waiting. you're an early riser. you're up before he's even hit his bed for the night.

the smell of a dark roast wafts through the air of the compound kitchen when he pads through on his way to bed.

he sees you standing at island, offering a gentle wave of your fingers, "hey, sarge. i didn't take you for an early bird."

he grunts, the corner of his mouth twitching up, "'m not. still haven't gone to bed."

"you haven't gone to bed," your eyes widen slightly like you can't believe it. "it's five in the morning."

he cocks an eyebrow at you, "then what are you doin' up?"

the smile that forms on your face is far too bright for him this early in the morning. "i like to watch the sunrise."

bucky snorts. "of course you do."

he wants to tell you, to show you. you can watch the sunrise with him. you keep him company in the noon of night and sleep just as the sun hits the horizon.

he wants to show you the other side of life. don't you know that the moon shines just as bright as the sun? no. you have no idea, but you'll get there eventually.

he just has to wait...

a few months later...

"bucky! bucky!" you crouch down before him, looking panicked. he's not the only injured, not even the most severely injured in your field of view. and yet, here you are, on your knees, lavishing him with your attention. "are you okay?"

he waves you off, doing his best to play the part of the noble, self sacrificing hero, all while he relishes in your attention. "i'm fine."

"you could've been killed."

was it true? sure. was it likely? no.

he looks up at you. he knows his face is littered with bruises and scrapes of all shapes and sizes. "at least the job got done."

"you have to be more careful, bucky. you're not expendable."

this time, his smile is genuine. he doesn't think he's ever head you call him that. bucky. he likes how it falls from your lips.

his eyes flash over to you, his ocean blue eyes swimming with mischief, "well, who wants to live forever, doll?"

you suck in a shaky breath. there's a part of you that he knows wants to bridge the gap between the two of you.

he can see it. your edges fraying. he swears he can see you stepping out of the barrel of your own making. he can smell your liquor soaked bones.

there's a part of you, that wants to join bucky in his gluttony. but not quite yet. not while you're still bright as the morning, soft as the rain. just a little longer. he could practically hear the gates creaking open for him.

it doesn't take much. not with the temptation bucky so dutifully lays before you. he's not sure what it was. the constant torment of unending missions. the fact that he could see your willpower slipping every time he got too close.

it was almost like a switch flipped.

no, you were no longer as bright as the morning sky, but shimmering like the night sky.

and beautiful just the same.

he watches as you stare at the counter of the bar from that very first night. it's like you know he's near. your eyes lift, finding his.

you look at him, then at the bartender.

without ever breaking eye contact, you mutter a drink to the bartender. "i'll take a whiskey. neat."

a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, he nods at the bartender, then turns to you. "i'll have the same."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityisFun’s SongFics

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[kayhi808]

So I was thinking about first crush and after your Uncle Steve one shot I was wondering what would Bucky do if reader and/or Abby got sick?

Maybe reader gets sick so he offer to take care of Abby while she gets better or Abby gets sick and she only wants Bucky. And his left hand is cool enough that it relieves her fever, which only makes Abby love his left arm more!

Idk if you had something planned for the series like this so feel free to ignore!

Anyways I love the series so much!

Val, you are the sweetest!! Thank you so much for you support and for always being so encouraging! xoxo

"What are you doing here??" You opened your door to find Bucky with a bag of take-away food. Your hands go to your hair trying to tidy up your appearance. Abby's had a fever and is miserable. So, you're a bit of a mess as well.

He drops a kiss on your brow, "You sounded beat on the phone. I thought I'd bring over dinner and help out if I can."

"No, I don't want you catching whatever she has, shaking your head & nudging him towards the door.

"Super serum. I don't get sick." He gives you a smug smile.

"Mama!" You hear Abby start to cry. "Pwease help, Mama." You turn away from Bucky and rush to Abby's room. "I called-ed you, Mama! You runs away."

"No, baby. I'm here. Mama's here." You sit on the bed and cradle her in your arms, rocking her. "I had to answer the door." You press your lips to her brow and it's still hot with fever.

"What happened here?" Bucky walks into Abby's bedroom and Abby cries harder.

"I...I sick and doctor says I has to take yuck me'cine." Abby throws her head back sobbing dramatically like the drama queen that she is. You roll your eyes and glare at Bucky because you see the mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

"No he didn't!"

"He did! And I don't wike it!"

"How dare he treat my girl like that!"

"I knows," wiping her snotty face into your shirt.

"Ew, Abby!"

"C'mere Princess." He holds his arms out to her & you pass her over while getting tissue to wipe her nose. She fights you and it only makes her cry harder into Bucky's shoulder. You're ready to scream as well.

"Why don't you take a shower? Calm down. I got her." He drops a kiss at your temple and another on your neck. "Take as long as you need. We'll be fine." You're on the verge of tears at his kindness. "Go. You need this. It's ok."

You're able to pull yourself back together. Cleaning yourself of sweat, tears and baby snot. You stay in there until you run out of hot water.

Feeling human again, you find Bucky laying on the couch with Abby. Her little body is wrapped around Bucky's Vibranium arm. Her cheek is squashed up against his arm and she looks peaceful. You brush the back of your fingers against her forehead and its cool to the touch.

"Feel better, doll?"

You give him a smile but before you can answer, Abby pipes up, "I's good."

"You feel better, my baby?" Kneeling down by them.

"Bucky's arm is so cold. I loves it." She closes her eyes and snuggles around his arm and falls asleep.

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22 @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05

[sashaisready]

Sweet and Sour (completed)

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

This is an AU Mob!Bucky fic set in Brooklyn.

Warnings: Smut, violence, swearing, allusions to violence, descriptions of blood, threats on life, swearing, kidnapping, stalking/tailing, murder (happens 'offscreen' but referenced and some description of bodies), vomiting, gun violence, some manipulation and nasty treatment of reader by Bucky, dubcon with a minor character, near car accident, alcohol use, possessive/jealous Bucky.

Other MCU characters pop up along the way.

Bucky can be quite dark in this fic and doesn't always behave well...I wouldn't say it's a dark fic as such...maybe soft dark? But he's a bit of a manipulative shithead so heed my warning! He's good at heart though...

Lots of angst and fluff thrown in for good measure.

In my head this Bucky has longer hair but of course you are free to picture your favourite Bucky incarnation. Reader is fem, generally not described but has hair long enough to be in her face.

If you enjoyed this series and would like to buy me a coffee, here's my Ko-Fi link 💐

🍰

Chapter One - For your trouble

Chapter Two - No big deal

Chapter Three - Call me Bucky

Chapter Four - You’re both idiots

Chapter Five - No Witnesses

Chapter Six - You already know

Chapter Seven - First time for everything

Chapter Eight - She said Stop

Chapter Nine - Follow Me

Chapter Ten - Do you want to take this elsewhere, Doll?

Chapter Eleven - Just for Me

Chapter Twelve - It’s beautiful, just like the rest of you

Chapter Thirteen - You're finally awake

Chapter Fourteen - A new development

Chapter Fifteen - I’m done with you

Chapter Sixteen - Friends?

Chapter Seventeen - We’re going on a little ride

Chapter Eighteen - Weakness

Chapter Nineteen - Best of luck

Chapter Twenty - Of course I did

Chapter Twenty-One - I’m here, Doll

Chapter Twenty-Two - That was a long time ago

Chapter Twenty-Three - Hell if I know

Chapter Twenty-Four - Yeah, idiot

Chapter Twenty-Five - Epilogue

[navybrat817]

Could use a night with neighbor Bucky, Navy.

We know our hot neighbor is horny as hell for you, nonnie, but what if he does something sweet for you?

You're tired, a long day after a long week. Your bed is calling your name. So is your neighbor. He wants you to come over. As tempting as it is to hang out and let him wear you out, you're already exhausted as it is. But he's a sight for sure eyes and you do want to see him though, so you join him in his backyard. His smile when he opens the fence makes your heart melt.

When you see the romantic setup feet away, it melts again. 

You're used to the fairy lights that typically light up the yard and the pool, but tonight he has a blanket and pillows set up in the grass. It's for the two of you to cuddle and gaze at the stars. He even has a few snacks and drinks nearby, a reminder that he's thoughtful and attentive.

It's comfortable as he helps you sit. Familiar. He's warm as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his space. The stars sparkle above you, but he isn't looking at the sky at all. He isn't missing anything. 

Everything he wants to see is there in his arms.

His lips touch your temple and you sigh when you lean into him more. You don't realize just how badly you needed him to hold you until then. You warn him that you may fall asleep and apologize in advance if you do. He answers by putting another blanket around you both. He's happy to cuddle, sleep, whatever you want. 

You can't think of a better way to end the evening. 

Neither can he. 

Love and thanks! ❤️