Marvel Bucky Barnes - Blog Posts
The Stucky brainrot is consuming me… I’m learning to draw him
The ones below are kinda off, there’s just something weird about them
The Winter Soldier
The Winter Soldier with ✨Eye liner✨
we don’t give a fuck~ @prkkirin
my Marvel Anti-Heros/Villians/Victims
та самая участь
sorry for no finishing ~
This is what my blog need :’) i would upload more Dc or Marvel Stuff~ my compassionate crisis begins :’)
Winter Soldier~
I'm going to see Thunderbolts* tomorrow and I'm so freaking excited
Just 24 silent seconds of me showing you all the Marvel reads I have
Loving how they used the comic design for the new red star ⭐
Loving how they used the comic design for the new red star ⭐
Well..
THIS IS SO SWEET😭😭😭😭😭💓
Best Laid Plans
Lee Bodecker x Female Reader
When your plans for the town's Easter egg hunt go awry, you find help from an unlikely source...
This is for the lovely's @buck-star 's Easter Special ! Felt very inspired so started this earlier this afternoon and it just flowed! Way longer than planned lol sorry.
Character: Lee Bodecker
Trope: 🌷 Enemies to lovers
Prompt: 🐰 Easter egg hunt
Wordcount: Approx. 3.9k
No major warnings. I have also been deliberate vague about when this is set - so it's up to you! Hope you enjoy - as always I love hearing your thoughts ❤️
🐰
A satisfied grin spread across your face as you arranged the model chicks and bunnies, a sea of pastels brightening up the tired storefronts amongst the floral arrangements you’d already hung. Perfect. You smoothed down your polka dot sundress as you took in the scene. Just beyond the storefronts were the stalls for the fair later, selling everything from lemonade to chocolate, handmade crafts and freshly baked goods. A few of the vendors had started to set up, but there was still a nice amount of time before people would start to arrive. You’d given yourself a wide margin to prepare everything, hopefully you’ll have a little downtime to relax before the festivities began.
Your vision was finally all coming together. It was touch and go there for a while, especially with the well-meaning-but-pretty-useless Jake as your helper, but it was actually starting to pay off. It actually looked…good! Especially for a smalltown fair. You couldn’t wait to see the kids’ faces when they arrived later.
“Looks like the Easter bunny threw up out here,” someone chuckled from behind you.
Your smile dropped as you turned to face the culprit. But you already knew who that smooth voice belonged to.
Ugh. There he was. Again.
His uniform looked surprisingly crisp for him, stretched over his broad shoulders. He must’ve finally given the iron a try. Or maybe he’d convinced old Mrs O’Malley to help out a busy bachelor. You could still spy the curve of his stomach peeking out over his waistband from under the starchy white shirt. Not that it mattered, you normally liked a hefty man.
Just not this hefty man.
He stood there confidently surveying your handiwork, like a judge at a dog show. His sheriff badge caught a flicker of morning sunlight as his mouth pulled into a pensive sneer. He was normally quite handsome, not that you’d ever admit that. He had a gorgeous smile on the rare occasions you saw it, almost boyish in contrast to the severity of his short hair and tense jaw.
“Very funny, Sheriff Bodecker,” you replied in a deadpan tone. “Come up with that one all by yourself?”
He leaned on the roadblock barrier and chuckled. “Yeah. Spent all morning workin’ on it,” he grinned devilishly as he manoeuvred the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other, his eyes alight with mischief. Lee Bodecker had the most beautiful blue eyes, you’d noticed…
…Shame the man they belonged to was utterly insufferable.
“Glad my tax dollars are going to good use…” you sighed as you moved to collect the baskets for the egg hunt.
“Hey, you’re gettin’ free labour from my men and a whole street closed off for your little Easter party here, maybe save me the sass,” he scoffed. You didn’t like the patronising hand gesture he used to emphasis ‘little’.
You sighed incredulously, continuing to arrange the baskets, “it’s not my Easter party. And it’s a fair by the way. And it’s for the whole town. It’s about community, being together – whether you celebrate Easter or not. A little morale goes a long way…”
He rolled his eyes “Mm. Well the residents who lost their parking spaces to the roadblock this morning certainly didn’t have much morale when they came to bitch at the station about it…”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned to him again, one hand on your hip and the other clasping one of the little yellow baskets which you pointed at him accusatorily. You knew exactly who he was referring to. That same vocal minority had also come to PTA meetings, written angry letters to the school – and once even ambushed you at the market. They seemed unmoved that it was a joint effort from the school and the church to do something nice for the town. The way they reacted, anyone might think you were responsible for evicting them from their houses, not using their preferred parking spaces for a few hours. You’d already repeated the same arguments so many times that you could probably recite them in your sleep. You were simply sick of talking about it, which you quickly made clear to Lee.
“Listen here, Sheriff. I’m going to tell you what I told all of them. It’s one day. One. We gave them plenty of notice about it, explaining it was so the kids could do the Easter egg hunt without the fear of getting mowed down, and folks can set up their market stalls with plenty of space. God forbid they park in that lot a few streets over and walk the short distance to main street – they can all fit in there, we’re not exactly New York City levels of population here in Meade…And most of them walk to town anyway!! Besides, the district owns those spaces, not them – just because they park in them most days when they come to shoot the shit at the barbers doesn’t mean they’re theirs.”
A little sharper than you had anticipated, but it did the job. You exhaled, trying to calm yourself down as you felt yourself get riled up.
Lee smirked, cocking his head to the side as he studied you. “Wow. Is that how you talk to your students when they act up? Or is it just me that the local schoolteacher likes to put in his place?” his voice was low, almost a purr.
You didn’t like the strange flush that he somehow brought to your cheeks. You briefly felt off balance. You needed to shake that off.
“My students know how to behave,” you quipped. And just like that, the flush had gone. The familiar irritation had taken its place.
The two of you stared at each other for a moment, a strange buzz between you that you couldn’t quite identify. You felt that with him sometimes. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was just anger.
His eyes were on you so intensely it seemed like they could tear a hole in your skin.
Then he just laughed. The irritation burned through you, down to your bones.
“Why are you even here? The roadblock is up, nothing starts officially for another couple of hours…” you shrugged. “Surely the Sheriff has better things to be doing than supervising me putting up toy bunnies…” you muttered.
“Wow…so much for community and morale,” he replied in a mock-outraged tone.
You didn’t know why you let him get to you so much. You didn’t know why he did get to you so much. It had always been this way with him, nothing but a sliding scale from feisty jibes to outright loathing.
You weren’t like this with anyone else. You were a schoolteacher, priding yourself on being approachable and kind – a figure in the community who was happy to be a listening ear, who took her responsibility for the town’s children and their education very seriously. You were heavily involved in the church, in the PTA, volunteered at the old folks’ home when you had time. This strange feud with the Sheriff was the one misshapen puzzle piece that didn’t fit with the rest of the picture. A fault by the manufacturer.
And it had been like this since day one, since you moved to town just over a year ago. You had been keen to meet the local Sheriff, hoping to ingratiate yourself with him and work together to benefit the community – but he’d shut you down almost immediately when you’d introduced yourself at a town meeting. He’d lazily looked you up and down in a way that could only be described as with contempt. Your smiled had faded as he introduced himself with disinterest, moving back to talk to his deputies like you were some chore he couldn’t wait to finish. You had no idea what you’d done wrong.
Since then, you had just never met eye to eye. Never been on the same wavelength. He just had a way of getting under your skin, of draining your patience in a way that even a rowdy group of six-year-olds couldn’t pull off. Although you generally aimed to always be the bigger person in life and rise above petty things, Sheriff Bodecker seemed to be the exception to that philosophy. Maybe his dismissal of you before he’d even properly spoken to you was what provoked such strong feeling, but you couldn’t explain the inevitable descent every time you met him.
You bickered every time you crossed paths. Arguing in line at the market, squabbling in the street, once there had even been (hushed) strong words at the back of church during a service.
You’d turned up to the station one afternoon to meet with Deputy Carter about arranging a school safety talk and the officers on the front desk had audibly sighed knowing what was going to happen. The whole town was aware of this rivalry, and just sort of took for granted that this was just how things were with the Sheriff and that schoolteacher.
…and yes. The officers were right. You and the Sheriff had managed to get each other’s backs up after a mere few minutes because you had laughed a little too loudly when his hat briefly slipped off his head. Business as usual.
You couldn’t really admit it to yourself. But maybe you also kinda enjoyed it. Just a tiny bit. Sometimes.
“Oh whatever…” you hissed, trying to focus on the task at hand. You didn’t have time for this, you can’t let Lee distract you when you have so much still to do. “Go. Stay. I don’t care either way. I need to hide the eggs and-”
You froze as you tugged at the trash bag containing the coloured eggs that you were going to hide for the hunt. It didn’t feel…right. The weight was off. It didn’t sit like a bag of small toy eggs.
You untied the bag and gasped when the contents were revealed.
Not eggs.
Not even close.
…a bag of trash.
You let out a pained moan as you fell to your knees, rifling through the bag in the weak hope that the eggs were at the bottom, and someone had put trash in the wrong bag by mistake. But no. Not a one there.
How could this-
And then it all fell into place at once. Jake, the enthusiastic but somewhat hapless school coach who had offered to help with the planning. Yesterday, after school you’d given him the eggs as you bagged up the classroom waste bin…he then offered to take it out for you as he was parked near the dumpster…so he must’ve mixed up…
Oh.
Oh God.
…And trash pick-up had been early this morning.
Those eggs were long gone.
Even if by some miracle you managed to somehow track them down, they’d most likely be crushed by the truck anyway – or all mixed in with the town’s other garbage. Covered in God knows what.
You stomach churned. You thought about the kids in your class, how excited they were about the hunt. They’d all been talking about it for weeks, all claiming they were going to win and find the most eggs – win the ‘mystery prize’ that the flyer tantalisingly offered (a brand-new bike, sponsored by one of the richer families in Brewer Heights. You had been so proud to source that).
How could you let them all down? See the disappointment on their little faces when they realised?
You couldn’t.
So, you switched into problem solving mode. As satisfying as it would be to tear Jake a new one for his mistake, that wouldn’t help the kids. Where could you get more eggs? You had already bought out almost the entire supply locally to ensure as many kids as possible could participate. You could drive to another town, but would you make it back in time? What if they were sold out too? This close to Easter…how many eggs were going to be left in stores exactly? Would they even be open? A lot of places had already closed up to spend time with their families. It was that way around these parts, these were mom and pop operations - not national chain stores. You could call ahead but-
“Well. That’s gonna be a weird egg hunt,” Lee interrupted your internal monologue as he toed at the now ripped open bag of trash. “I know the school budget has been cut, but damn…”
You closed your eyes. You’d been so caught up that you’d almost forgotten he was still here. “Just…not now, please,” you snap without looking up.
“Didn’t need to close the street just for you to hide garbage. Ain’t that just littering…?” he chuckles.
You look up at him, tears of frustration swimming in your eyes. “Coach Jensen must’ve switched the bags by accident,” you say softly.
Lee furrows his brows, his ever-present smirk shrinking as he takes you in. Maybe for the first time ever. His features soften as he starts to absorb that look on your face. The look that tells him this is serious. “That guy’s an ass…” he replies, his voice low.
“Yeah, I know,” you whispered. “God…The kids are so excited…”
“You can’t just call it off?”
“No!” you said incredulously. “This is all they’ve been talking about in class, all through school! I can’t just cancel it. I just need to figure out how to find more eggs before the hunt. There’s none left in our store but maybe I could drive to the next town over…”
He put his hands on his hips, his stance authoritative like he was doing a traffic stop, or talking to a perp. He checks his watch. “At this hour? You won’t make it back in time…”
“Thanks for your help Sheriff, as always,” you snarl.
He sighed defeatedly. “Could you just…hide something else for them to hunt? Matchsticks or something? I dunno…”
“It’s Easter! They were promised eggs!” you huff, “what kind of easter egg hunt would that be?”
You are unable to stop the few tears that break through the barrier and onto your cheek. You’re just so frustrated, so tired after staying up late to prepare all of this. And all your hard work is coming unravelled because of a few lousy eggs and a feckless man who doesn’t check garbage bags.
God, what a mess. Why do you even care so much? This is silly. Mistakes happen. The town will understand.
Right?
“Hey, hey,” Lee coos gently and takes a step closer to you, “don’t get upset…it’s just eggs…” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, it barely sounds like him at all.
You feel a wave of shame, mortification that he is bearing witness to this. The unfamiliarity of his tone is so unexpected, so jarring, that it adds to your embarrassment rather than soothes it. Why did he have to be here? Why him of all people? And what, he pities you now? More ammunition for his side in your little war – the silly, emotional teacher who cries over easter eggs. A chink in your armour, vulnerability for him to mock and dine out on for years to come…as if he didn’t already think you were a fool…
“It’s not just eggs,” you reply dully. Your eyes lock onto his. He simply doesn’t understand how important this is. How many children are counting on you. He doesn’t understand anything about you.
You turn away from him, taking a deep breath as you quickly wipe away your tears with your knuckles. You won’t let him have any more of you than you’ve already given. You shakily get to your feet.
“I’m gonna go around to a few parents’ houses and see what I can find,” you say out loud, more for you than for him. To anchor you, make you feel like you have a plan – however weak. “I should be able to rustle up some from their Easter decorations at least. I’ll be back to finish setting up”.
Lee stares at you. It seems like he has more to say, but he remains quiet. He clears his throat, nods. “Uh. Alright. Well, I’m going to go back to the station. Check on a few things. Good luck…with the eggs…it’ll work out.”
You nod, but don’t turn around as you leave him behind. You don’t believe him.
🐇.•*¨`*•.¸ 🐇.•*¨`*•. 🐇¸.•*¨`*•. 🐇
A little while later you make your way back to the fair. You feel so downtrodden that there could almost be rocks in your pockets, every movement takes effort and energy you no longer possess. You dread every step closer as you trudge heavily across town.
Despite a committed campaign, working your way across several neighbourhoods, you were only able to source a pathetic few eggs. Nowhere near enough to sustain a full-on egg hunt for all of the town’s children. Maybe even neighbouring towns if word got out. You check your watch; and you’re running late, too. You were going to have to explain to dozens of disappointed kids (and their angry parents) why their most anticipated Easter activity wasn’t happening. You practiced your speech in your head as you walked.
As you rounded the corner to the roadblock, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the worst. Your stomach swam with nausea, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. You should’ve called Jake and made him do this. It was his fault after all.
You brace yourself for the crowd of confused children, when…
You can’t quite believe your eyes.
The kids are here, yes. But they’re running around, yellow baskets in their little hands as they shriek and holler, darting underneath doorsteps and plant pots to hunt. A small pile of coloured eggs sits in each of their baskets. Every single one of them is having a blast. Their parents watch on proudly, sharing their joy.
Are you going insane?
Some of them notice you and wave excitedly, calling your name and shouting over to you about how much fun it is. Their parents echo similar sentiments, and you just wave back gormlessly, trying to figure out what the hell is happening.
Is this some sort of hallucination?
“Phew. Told ya it would work out.”
You turn to the figure who has sidled up next to you, your eyes wide with surprise as Lee watches the joyful chaos unfold in front of you both.
“How…what…” you splutter.
“I remembered we did a similar thing a few years back,” he says casually without taking his eyes off the fun. “It was a police fundraiser around Easter time. One of my dim-witted deputies thought he ordered 100 eggs…turns out he ordered 100 cases…”
Your mouth falls agape as realisation slowly dawns.
“Shoved ‘em in the old outbuilding and forgot we had ‘em if I’m honest, ‘til this morning. Never thought we’d use them all, but here we are”. He laughs and rests his hands on his belt buckle.
“You…you did this?” you whisper, your throat tight with shock.
He shrugs, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sure. Rounded up a bunch of the boys and we got ‘em all out. Not the most creative hiding places, you probably woulda done better – but the kiddos don’t seem to mind. Some of them are a bit dusty from storage – but again, kids are paying that no mind. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell no one. So, you’ll still get all the credit, you deserve it anyway – you put all the work in”.
Your eyes round as you stare at him. He stands there nonchalantly, like he didn’t just save the day. Didn’t just save you.
“You did that…for me?” you ask, bewildered.
“Sure. You needed help. That prick Jensen wasn’t gonna fix it, was he?”
“B..but. You don’t even like me?” you stammer weakly. Your brain simply can’t absorb any of this.
He finally turns, an eyebrow cocked in confusion. His blue eyes squint as his lip curls. “What? ‘Course I like ya”.
You feel like you’re going insane. “What?? We fight, all the time! You are always jabbing at me, making fun of me, riling me up…”
His face mirrors your own puzzlement but for a different reason, “yeah, but it’s just fun, isn’t it? Banter. I love fighting with you. It’s always a highlight of my day. You’re so…fun. Feisty. I love it. I never actually meant any harm…”
If you’d been sitting on a chair at that moment, you would’ve fallen out of it.
“WHAT?” you roar so loudly that some people turn around. You hush yourself immediately, trying to avoid a scene. “You were SO RUDE, the first time we met…it’s been hell ever since…”
He finally has the decency to look embarrassed as his eyes drop to the ground. “Oh, right. That. Yeah. That was shitty. I should’ve apologised…you just caught me off guard…”
“What do you mean?! All I did was say hello?” you sneer through gritted teeth.
“Yeah…and be gorgeous. Nobody told me the new teacher was a goddamn beauty. I panicked, couldn’t form words. You made me feel like a damn teenager with how nervous you made me”.
You just stare at him as you try and process what he’d just said, your mother would say you could catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that.
“Wait…You were rude because…you thought I was pretty?”
“Damn beautiful, actually. And I didn’t mean to be rude. Really. My brain just damn near stopped working”, he says bashfully.
“So, wait, this whole time you…”
You trail off as you suddenly reframe every interaction with him in your memory in a matter of seconds. The strange, unidentifiable buzz you felt with him sometimes. The way he got to you like nobody else. His smile widening every time he saw you, which you’d always assumed was just him getting ready to rile you up. How he would always gravitate to you if you were in the same place. The way he seemed to take so much pleasure in making fun of you, of talking with you…
…being with you?
“I should’ve just not been a coward and spoken to you properly, I’m sorry,” he sighs as he looks down at his feet. His voice more passive than you’d ever heard it. “Ask you on a date. Treat you nice, court you a little. I guess I never thought a pretty girl like you would go for a schlub like me, and I always had your attention when we argued – so why risk it?”
You look over at the giggling kids, the proud parents, the townspeople enjoying the stalls, sipping lemonade and laughing. You look back at him. You think of him hauling those old boxes from the station, getting his staff to help. Trying to find good hiding places for the eggs, wiping the dust from them. Greeting the kids and their parents as they arrived, giving them the little baskets. Doing it all for you without being asked, doing it for you because he wanted to.
Maybe he understood more about you than you realised.
He cautiously stands in front of you, you look deep into his cerulean eyes and before you know it, you’re kissing him. He wobbles slightly in surprise but corrects himself and finds his feet, kissing you back, his arms around your waist like they’d always been there. The rest of the world melts away and suddenly everything feels right. You don’t care that they can all see. You don’t care about anything else.
You break away and rest your forehead on his. You both laugh at the hooting and hollering from behind you, the cries of ‘about time!’ from his deputies. Apparently everyone could see it but you.
“Don’t I get a thank you? For fixing it?” he grins.
“Why? It’s just eggs,” you beam.
“…it’s not just eggs,” he chuckled as he moves to kiss you again.
THE END
Happy birthday, Bucky!!
read pt.1 here
uh warning for blood again and again it's not that descriptive lol
｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──
it was late when bucky finally came home. you heard him before you saw him, the soft shuffle of boots by the door, the quiet clink of keys landing in the dish you’d both agreed was “aesthetic” even though neither of you actually cared.
he let out a long, tired breath, the kind that said today had been a lot. maybe it was training. maybe it was meetings. maybe someone said something stupid and he had to keep himself from punching them through a wall. again. you were curled up on the couch, wearing one of his old shirts, frayed at the collar, soft from years of washes, still smelling faintly like him. you’d gotten home an hour or so earlier, dropped your things, kicked off your boots, and started to decompress. or at least, you tried. but you were hungry.
not food hungry. not in the usual sense. not in the way normal people were after a long day. no—this was the kind of hunger that settled behind your ribs and tugged at your spine. it stirred quietly at first, but by the time bucky walked in, it was loud. gnawing. electric. he stepped into the living room, face softening the second he saw you.
“hey, baby,” he said, dropping his bag near the table.
“hi,” you murmured, eyes locked on him.
he paused. tilted his head, a little amused. a little curious.
“you eat?”
you shook your head. “not yet.”
he gave a low, knowing laugh and moved toward the bookshelf. “figured. you’ve got that look in your eye.”
you watched him as he pulled out a dog eared paperback, one you’d seen him reread a dozen times. his vibranium arm caught the lamplight as he settled into the armchair across from you, thumbing open the book.
you didn’t move for a second. just watched him. the curve of his throat, the line of his jaw, the way the muscles in his forearm flexed slightly as he turned the page. the gold and brown light painted across his skin like something holy. you rose without a sound. padded across the room, slow and careful, but there was nothing predatory about it. not really. this wasn’t about taking. this was about wanting. needing. he didn’t flinch when you slid into his lap. didn’t say a word when you nuzzled your nose against his neck, breathing him in.
“rough day?” you asked, voice soft.
“mm,” he hummed, eyes scanning the page. “long. annoying. too many people talking and not enough doing.”
your lips brushed the edge of his jaw.
“you gonna fix that for me?” he asked, teasing now, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“maybe,” you said, letting your lips trail down the column of his throat. “depends if you let me.”
he tilted his head back slightly, exposing more skin, still pretending to read. “i always let you.”
your fangs pressed gently to his pulse point. he didn’t flinch. didn’t tense. just sighed, low and content.
“you smell good,” you murmured.
“you always say that,” he muttered, flipping the page.
“it’s always true.”
you licked a slow stripe across the side of his neck, tasting the salt there, the warmth, the faintest trace of iron beneath his skin. his heart beat steady and strong.
“go ahead,” he whispered.
you didn’t need to be told twice.
your mouth opened over his neck, your fangs sinking in with practiced ease. he inhaled sharply through his nose, his hand tightening on the armrest. the blood hit your tongue warm and rich, heady like dark wine and something deeper underneath. like rain on hot pavement. like warmth in winter.
he kept reading. barely even twitched.
you fed slowly, taking your time, mouth sealed to his skin, one hand on his chest to steady yourself. he was warm, solid beneath you. grounding. he murmured something you couldn’t hear, probably reacting to something in the book. your hunger quieted, replaced by that soft hum of connection, the bond between you thick in the air. this was trust. this was something holy.
when you finally pulled back, lips still tingling, you licked the punctures clean. they were already closing, healing faster than they should. his eyes met yours, still half lidded, still calm.
“better?” he asked.
“mmhm.”
you shifted in his lap, curling against his chest. he closed the book and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“good,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “hate seeing my girl all hungry.”
you smiled.
you fell asleep like that, tangled up in him, warm and full, the city beyond your windows fading into a hush. let them call him a hero. let the world watch him save it over and over again. you had him first. and he was home with you.
he's my lovely life saver
doesn't mind my bad behavior.ᐟ
content warning for blood it's not descriptive but if that makes you uncomfy uh um yeah just scroll
also this might be pt.1 of a few more fics cause i kinda wanna write vampire x bucky with him in that new fucking avengers suit 👅 god i need him so bad
pt.2
it was a humid evening. the city lights reflecting off the sleek glass towers that lined the skyline, the buzz of the metropolis still alive even as the night began to fall. you’d been in the city for a few months now, settling into your role in politics and keeping your secret under wraps. but the longer you spent time with bucky, the more difficult it became to maintain the distance between you and the truth. you’d met him at a fundraiser months ago, and the chemistry was immediate. the way his eyes seemed to see right through you, yet never asked the right questions. he was always kind, considerate. an odd trait among the usual crowd you mingled with. he had an intensity to him that matched your own, something in his eyes that made you feel understood without having to say a word.
over time, you both grew closer. at first, it was the long conversations over coffee and late night dinners, and then more casual outings around the city. as much as you tried to keep things professional, there was always something more with you two. it happened by accident. really. you were sitting with him at his apartment, the apartment was warm, the living room was dimly lit, the flickering light from the television casting a soft glow on the two of you as you sat on the couch, you’d been here before, spending hours talking, laughing, and watching movies late into the night. but tonight, everything felt different. the closeness had grown, subtle and inevitable. the way his fingers brushed against yours when you passed him the popcorn, the way he always made sure you were comfortable, the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long on your lips when you spoke... it all felt like an invitation. curled up on his couch, the soft murmur of a movie playing in the background. you were both a little tipsy from the wine, a bit more relaxed than usual, your barriers worn thin from the hours of quiet company.
"you always talk about how you’re so busy," bucky said, his voice teasing but not unkind. "but i don’t think i’ve ever seen you take a break. don’t you need one?"
"i don’t really get tired," you muttered, a touch too quickly. it wasn’t something you meant to say, but the wine made it slip past your lips before you could stop it.
he glanced at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "you don’t get tired? that’s... interesting."
you froze, realizing what you’d just said. shit. your heart rate spiked slightly, though you did your best to hide the telltale signs. you forced a nonchalant smile, turning the moment into a joke. "guess i’m just a workaholic. don’t worry about it."
bucky leaned back against the cushions, his head tilted slightly as he watched you. you felt his gaze like a weight on your skin, his eyes dark and soft, studying you in a way that made your breath catch. you tried to focus on the movie, but his presence was all consuming. you could feel the heat of his body beside yours, the warmth of his arm just inches away.
“you look like you’re miles away,” he murmured.
you blinked, shaking yourself out of your thoughts, and turned to face him. “sorry, just... lost in my head for a second.”
“well, you know, that’s my job,” he said with a playful smirk, “to make sure you’re not lost in your own thoughts for too long.”
you chuckled, but the tension in the air hadn’t loosened. if anything, it felt like it was building, the unspoken connection between you both growing thicker. he was so close now, his scent smelled like he was carved straight out of war and winter. smoke, metal, leather, but softened by something warmer underneath, something maddening. it wasn’t cologne. no, it was the scent of him, baked into cotton and skin and the hollow of his throat. like clean sweat after a workout, salt kissed and heavy, the kind that made your mouth water when you caught it up close. there was that sharp, biting edge of gun oil and steel, like he’d just come back from something violent, but wrapped in the deep, grounding warmth of cedarwood and dark amber that had no business being that comforting. he smelled like the inside of a well worn jacket, like something you’d bury your face into and never give back. and underneath it all, there was heat. skin heat. something raw and male and barely restrained, like if you got too close you’d lose yourself in it. there was a sweetness to it, faint, maybe from whatever soap he used. something cheap and scentless meant to go unnoticed, but on him? it smelled like sin. it filled your senses. it made you feel... alive in a way that you hadn’t for a long time.
before you could stop yourself, your body shifted closer to his, the space between you disappearing. his breath caught, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he moved a little closer, and suddenly, everything that had been building between you both snapped into place. bucky’s lips were on yours before you even realized what was happening. the kiss was soft at first, gentle, he wanted to make sure you were there with him. you didn’t hesitate. your hand found its way to his shoulder, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.
it wasn’t like the others. this felt different. his lips moved against yours with purpose, his hand sliding to your back, tugging you even closer. you could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt, his body strong and warm. your heart thudded in your chest, and you didn’t want to pull away. as the kiss deepened, your senses sharpened. you could feel every breath he took, hear the thrum of his pulse, steady and strong. it was like your body was on fire, and you couldn’t control it. your hand slid up to his neck, fingers brushing the skin there, feeling the flutter of his pulse beneath your fingertips. the temptation hit you then— an undeniable need. without thinking your lips trailed from his mouth, moving down the line of his jaw to the soft skin of his neck. you heard him quickly breathe in through his nose, a sound that made your pulse spike in response. your mouth hovered just above his skin for a moment, and then, without a second thought, you pressed your lips to the warmth of his neck. you kissed him again, this time more urgently, the blood singing in your veins, the hunger that you kept buried deep inside you threatening to surface. you couldn’t stop. your lips parted, teeth grazing the skin of his neck just enough to feel the pulse beating beneath. there was a sharp intake of breath from him, but still, he didn’t pull away.
the sensation of his skin against your lips, his pulse beneath you, was too much. the hunger, the need, surged forward, and before you could stop it, you bit down gently. the rush of warmth flooded your senses, flooding you with an almost dizzying euphoria. you pulled at his neck, the taste of his skin and the soft, rhythmic thrum of his blood sending a shiver through you. bucky’s hands tightened on you, his body stiffening for a moment, but then, to your surprise, he didn’t push you away. instead, his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you closer, urging you on. his breathing had become shallow, his pulse erratic under your mouth.
you didn’t take much. just enough to feel that rush, that satisfying pull that made your whole body hum. you pulled away slowly, your lips lingering on his neck for a moment longer, savoring the warmth of his skin. his pulse was still racing beneath your lips, but his grip on you had softened, his body relaxed against you. you met his eyes, breathless, your heart still racing, unsure of what he was thinking, or what he felt. but then he spoke, his voice almost a whisper.
“is this... okay?” his words were tentative, though his gaze was full of something that made your chest tighten.
you nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly settled between you two. “yeah, it’s... perfect.”
he smiled back at you, a little dazed, but still with that warmth in his eyes. bucky kissed you again, deeper this time. like you weren't just someone he wanted to kiss, but something he needed to hold onto. and god, the way he kissed. slow, heavy, hungry. like he was trying to crawl inside you and stay there. you made a soft sound as his other hand settled on your waist, guiding you into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. he was so warm under you, all solid muscle and quiet strength, thighs like stone, arms wrapping around you like he'd rather die than let you go.
Hi! I had this idea and thought you might be the perfect person to bring it to life: a Bucky Barnes x Reader fic where Reader finds an old journal of Bucky’s from his early post Winter Soldier recovery days. She reads it without meaning to at first, but what she finds inside is raw and heartbreaking. stuff he never talks about. Maybe they’ve been growing distant lately, and this gives her a look into just how much he’s been struggling. Would love if it ends with her wanting to comfort him but him not being ready to let her in yet. Quiet, emotional tension, please!
I READ YOUR DIARY EVERY LINE.
it starts with dust. not metaphorical, just actual dust.
you’re cleaning. or pretending to. rearranging the living room like that’s gonna fix the silence that’s been creeping in between you and bucky like fog under the door. you’ve been feeling it for weeks now. how he’s been moving quieter, speaking less, disappearing into rooms with the kind of stillness that makes it hard to follow. you don’t even remember the last time he touched you without pulling back like his hands burned after.
so, yeah. you’re cleaning. touching all his stuff like you’re trying to find a thread back to him. and then a book falls. black. beat up. spiral bound, barely hanging on. it looks like it’s been shoved there on purpose—stuffed behind old war books and a mug you’re pretty sure he stole from a hotel in zurich. you almost leave it. almost. but then you see the corner of a folded photo sticking out from between the pages. and your name, just a sliver of it, so you sit. floor cold against your legs, journal in your lap, breath a little too tight. you tell yourself you’re just gonna peek. just a glance.
but it’s not that simple. because the first thing you read feels like walking in on someone mid nightmare, mid prayer, mid– something holy and bleeding.
“it’s been 2,190 days since she stopped calling me asset. i still don’t feel like a person.”
the handwriting’s rough. not messy, just tired. you can feel it in the way the letters lean too hard in places, press too deep in others. like he needed to write it down or it would claw its way out some other way.
“i keep dreaming about the way the metal felt when it was first fused to me. like i was being welded shut.”
you shift. knees pulled up now. the room’s gone quiet in that specific way that makes you feel like the walls are listening.
“sometimes i think about running. not because i want to leave, but because i don’t want to rot here. it feels like i’m leaking poison into the lives of people who love me. like i’ll never stop being dangerous.”
you swallow. the last few months fall into place, a soft collapsing. all the nights he stood outside on the fire escape, just watching the sky. the mornings he’d say he was fine but his voice would crack on the i. the way he stopped playing music in the apartment. stopped sitting beside you on the couch. stopped falling asleep beside you, slowly replacing your shared bed with the cold of the guest room. your eyes burn but you keep reading.
“she touches me like i’m breakable. looks at me like i’m something to fix. i don’t know how to be held without feeling like an apology.”
you don’t even realize you’re crying until the page blurs. until the paper soaks a little beneath your fingertips. and you hate that he felt like this. that he couldn’t tell you. that you didn’t see it sooner. that he had to carve this into paper in the middle of the night instead of speaking it out loud to someone who would’ve dropped everything just to hold his face and remind him he's still here. still human. still loved.
there’s one more entry. dated a week ago.
“she asked if i wanted to go out tonight. i told her i was tired. the truth is, i didn’t want to be seen. some days i still feel like a weapon pretending to be a man. and i think if she ever looked too close, she'd see right through me.”
you close the journal. you sit with it in your lap for a long while. the kind of long that makes the afternoon light shift across the floor like slow, golden water. you don’t say anything when you hear the door open. keys hitting the bowl. footsteps slow.
he sees you before he says anything. standing in the doorway to the living room, hand still on the frame, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed in. his eyes drop to the journal in your hands. they stay there. his mouth twitches. not quite a flinch. not quite anything. "you read it," he says, voice low. not accusing. just… accepting. you nod. barely.
he closes his eyes. presses his lips together like he’s swallowing something sharp.
"i didn’t mean for you to see that."
“i know,” you say. voice softer than it’s ever been. “i didn’t mean to find it.”
the silence that follows isn’t empty. it’s full of everything you don’t say. everything he can’t. he walks past you. sits down on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. you want to go to him. every cell in your body wants to close the space. to curl up beside him and press your forehead to his shoulder and tell him he’s not too broken to be loved. not too sharp to be touched. but you don’t. you sit down a few feet away. not touching. not even looking directly at him. just… near. a presence. a quiet offering.
“i didn’t know,” you whisper.
his voice cracks when he says, “i didn’t want you to.”
and there it is. the heart of it. he’s not ready. maybe he never will be. but he’s here and so are you.
the room is dim now. soft golden light painting the walls. somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaks as the house settles around you. the air smells like dust and the last bit of coffee he made this morning.
you don’t speak again. you just sit. two people in the quiet. the kind of quiet that aches and comforts at the same time. maybe this is love, too. not the easy parts. just the staying.
a/n: luv this req. i literally just need to hug him omg... also sorry this is terribly written i was almost blackout drunk when writing it
hi lovely! could i request a bucky barnes x female reader fic where the reader is on her period and comes home absolutely exhausted from a long day at work? she's crampy, moody, and just DONE. but bucky is the sweetest and takes care of her in all the best ways (wink wink). a little comforting + spicy combo? soft!bucky being extra gentle and attentive would be amazing. thank you!
NSFW CONTENT BELOW
warning for period sex if that makes you uncomfy. (the blood descriptions aren't really graphic but just in case!)
the door clicked softly as you stepped inside, the quiet of your apartment a stark contrast to the chaos of your day. the relentless meetings, the endless emails, the pressure of deadlines, everything had piled up, and the world felt like it was leaning just a little too heavily on your shoulders. and to make matters worse, your period had hit hard today, with cramps that had you feeling like you were being twisted in every direction.
you kicked off your shoes at the door, your limbs heavy and exhausted, the only thing on your mind being the thought of curling up on the couch and disappearing into a world of blankets and comfort. you barely had the strength to take off your jacket before you heard his voice from the other room.
“hey,” bucky’s voice called, warm and inviting. “you home?”
“yeah,” you muttered, letting out a long sigh as you leaned against the doorframe. the world felt like it was spinning, and you just couldn’t muster the energy to fake being okay.
bucky appeared from the living room, a soft smile on his face. his eyes softened immediately when they landed on you. his hands, usually so confident and steady, seemed to reach out for you with a tenderness you could never get used to. it was usually like this with him. his care never came in bursts, it was always consistent, unwavering.
“long day?” he asked, the concern clear in his voice as he crossed the room toward you.
“yeah,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead with the heel of your palm. “just... a lot. and cramps. ugh, it’s just... too much.”
he immediately moved toward you, his hands going to your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. you hadn’t even realized how tense you were until his touch made you aware of it. he was always so in tune with you, reading the unspoken signals you never even realized you were sending.
“you want to sit down?” he asked softly, already guiding you toward the couch. you nodded in gratitude, feeling your body practically melt against his gentle insistence. as you sat, he moved to grab a throw blanket, draping it across your lap. his touch was tender, like he was handling something fragile, though you didn’t feel fragile in his care, just loved.
bucky had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, even in your most exhausting moments. he didn’t need to say much; his presence alone was enough. he knew when you wanted space, when you needed silence, and when you needed his comforting touch.
“how about i make us some tea?” he suggested, his voice low and comforting. “i could use a little break, too. you want some ginger or chamomile? or both?”
your smile was small, but it felt like the first real one all day. “chamomile sounds perfect.”
he nodded, he disappeared into the kitchen. you listened to the quiet sound of him moving around, the clink of mugs, the soft hum of the kettle. it was nice. simple. it was the kind of sound that made you feel like you were exactly where you needed to be.
bucky returned moments later, his hands carefully carrying two steaming mugs. he sat next to you, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he didn’t want to disturb the fragile peace between you. he handed you one of the mugs, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.
“how’s the back, sweetheart?” he asked, his eyes searching your face.
“better now that i’m sitting down,” you said, leaning back into the cushions, feeling the warmth of the blanket and tea start to ease your discomfort.
bucky watched you for a moment, his brows knitting together with a protective concern. he’d seen you struggle with this before, but he could never quite get used to the sight of you not feeling like yourself.
“i know it’s not much,” he said softly, his fingers brushing through your hair, “but if there’s anything i can do to help, just let me know.”
his words, simple as they were, were a balm to your soul. you didn’t even realize how much you needed to hear them until he said them. he didn’t expect anything from you, didn’t push you to talk or make you feel like you had to smile. he just gave. and that was more than enough.
“i just need you here, buck,” you whispered, leaning into him a little more, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.
bucky immediately wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his embrace warm and grounding. his fingers traced slow circles along your arm, the motion rhythmic and soothing. he didn’t speak for a while, just letting you lean against him and drink your tea in quiet comfort.
the silence wasn’t awkward. not with him. it was the kind of silence that said everything and nothing at once. a peaceful, unspoken understanding between the two of you that you didn’t need words to be comfortable in each other’s company.
“tell me if you want something more, baby,” bucky murmured after a while, his voice a little raspy. his thumb continued its slow, calming circles on your arm. “anything at all.”
you hummed softly, a content sound. “'m good..”
his eyes softened as he looked down at you, his lips pulling into a gentle smile. he didn’t respond with words, just tightened his arm around you in a way that made you feel safe and cared for. his warmth was a shield against the world outside, and in his arms, you could finally let go.
“okay,” he said simply, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “just let me hold you– for as long as you need.”
you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift into the kind of quiet peace you could only find in his presence. bucky was everything you needed in this moment: patient, kind, and so incredibly thoughtful. he didn’t try to fix you, didn’t tell you to feel better or to stop being upset. he just let you be. and that, in itself, was the greatest comfort. you had everything you needed right here, in his arms. and for the first time today, everything felt okay. his touch was firm but gentle, as he rubbed soft circles over your back, the pads of his fingers tracing aimless patterns against your shoulders. he knew you probably wasn’t in the mood to talk, so he simply held you close, his heartbeat steady and reassuring. he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair.
your hands gently squeeze his big forearms, his forearms flexed automatically under your touch, the firm muscle shifting beneath your fingertips. he gave you a small smile, his hands continuing to move in slow, soothing circles over your back. “you alright?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a murmur. "cramps are bad.." you mumble, your voice strained from the sharp feeling in your stomach.
his expression shifted, the lines of his face softening even further as he listened to you. he could tell that your cramps were giving you hell, and a protective instinct flared in him. he shifted you gently so that you were nestled even more closely against him, his fingers continuing their soft, rhythmic movements. he made a sympathetic sound, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against your shoulder. “i’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice gentle. “is there anything else i can do? heat pack? more tea?” he shifted a little, trying to get a better look at your face.
you prop your chin up onto his shoulder, giving him those pretty doe eyes. his heart softened even more at the look in your eyes, the expression so impossibly sweet that he couldn’t help but melt. he let out a soft chuckle, his hand moving to tuck stray pieces of hair behind your ear. “oh, there you go,” he murmured, voice low and affectionate. he leaned in a little, tilting his head to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. “can’t say no to those pretty eyes,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “name it, doll. tea, hot pack, back rub, foot rub- i’m yours to command.” his hand slid down to gently massage the inside of your knee.
you gently gnaw on your puffy bottom lip, debating whether to ask him, unaware if he would be comfortable. he noticed the way you were gnawing at your lip, your hesitation and need so obvious that he didn't even have to verbalize it. he could see the mix of desire and uncertainty in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking. his hand continued its gentle massaging of your knee, and he met your gaze with a soft smirk. "go ahead and ask," he murmured, his voice tender. his gaze flickered down as you nipped at your lip, and a sharp stab of desire shot through him, his fingers tightening momentarily around your knee. he swallowed a little thickly, torn between wanting to give you whatever you needed and holding back, not wanting to press you when you were in pain.
"um... well i was just wondering... well yaknow..." you nervously mumble, your eyes flicking down to his thighs.
he shifted a little, tilting your chin up so that you were forced to meet his gaze. his expression was patient and open, waiting silently for you to continue. he could read the hesitation and shyness in your body language, and he let his hand slide from your chin to cradle your jaw, his thumb absently tracing the line of your bottom lip, where you'd been biting at it. "go on," he murmured, gentle and encouraging.
"you know there's ways to relive cramps.." you shyly mumble. you hadn't done anything too nasty with him, sex was a rarity in your relationship anyway.
he caught on immediately, his hand flexed at side, fingers twitching, wanting to touch you more. he leaned in a little, the hand that was still on your knee shifting to gently squeeze it, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly rumble. "yeah?" he murmured, "and what would that involve?" he knew exactly what you were hinting at, but he just wanted to make complete sure.
you mumble his name and his heart leapt a little at the sound of his name from your mouth, soft and pleading, and the desire and tenderness in your voice had his self control fraying at the edges. his expression shifted to one of near-overwhelming adoration, his hand releasing your knee to cradle your jaw instead, thumb stroking over the soft curve of your cheekbone. his other hand slid down to your thigh, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin, and he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "i'm right here," he murmured. you kiss him. and he responded eagerly, his lips moving against yours in a slow, sensual kiss, his hand at your jaw moving to cup the back of your head, holding you close. it was a little desperate, almost as if he wanted to drown out the pain he could sense in your body, replace it with only the heady, overwhelming feeling of wanting and being wanted. he nipped gently at your bottom lip, tugging softly, before his tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting the heat of your kiss and the sweetness of your desire.
it had been a long day. and all you needed was some relief. the two of you had been curled up together on the couch, lazily kissing, your body pressed against his. the warmth and the comfort of his body had a soothing effect, and the simple, easy intimacy had slowly been growing more heated, both of you craving the closeness. in a moment his hips had pushed up, slotting between your thighs, and without any words he was guiding you down onto him, your bodies joining and fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. he groaned softly, the sound deep and rough in his throat, as you sank down onto him, his head falling back against the couch. he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close, and he murmured your name like a prayer, his eyes closing and his expression going utterly blissed
your body was a soft, warm weight on top of his, your skin a smooth, delicate contrast to the hard muscle and rougher scars of his own. he shifted his hips a little, his hand sliding down to grip at your thigh, a strangled gasp leaving his throat at the feeling of you wrapped around him. your blood slipped down his thick shaft, leaving it's warm mark. "god, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a quiet, rough whisper that was almost lost in the heavy, tension-filled silence of the room. he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips trailing down to bite gently at your collarbone.
he could feel the way you tensed and relaxed against him, the way your body seemed to melt as he filled you, and a wave of affection and protectiveness washed over him. as he felt the pain and tension start to ease from your body, he murmured soft, soothing words, "that's it, sweetheart, i've got you. i've got you." he shifted, his hips moving lazily underneath you, and he groaned silently as he felt you press against him, your bodies fitting together like they were made for this. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you gently but firmly in place, and he buried his face into your neck. your blood gathered into his rough pubic hair, neither fresh-cut nor forgotten, just in-between. it caught in the hair before gravity slowly guided it down his flesh. it didn’t rush. it painted. smearing across the surface of his shaft like thick ink, glinting like a dark ruby under soft light.
"stay— still—" you moan out. and he immediately obeyed your command, going perfectly still underneath you, his hands gripping you a little harder, his body tense and expectant. he let out a soft, strangled groan, the unexpectedness of your command sending a sharp jolt of need through him. he was desperate to keep moving, but he would wait and obey your every word, his eyes half lidded as he looked up at you, breathless and tense.
he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing with the effort it took him to keep still. his hands flexed once, involuntarily, on your thighs, the desire to move almost overwhelming, but he forced himself to remain obedient, to do as you told him. he could feel the heat and tension building between the two of you, like electricity crackling in the air, and his head fell back against the couch cushion as he let out a low, strangled groan.
half a hour passed like this, with you sitting on his lap, his body trembling with the effort of keeping still. his expression taut with need, but he obeyed your command to remain motionless. the only sound in the room was the harsh breaths the two of you exchanged, and the occasional whine or gasp that escaped his lips. it was a slow and torturous pleasure, the sensations building and building with no release, and bucky could feel the tension and anticipation coiled tight in his stomach. finally, finally, you let him move. he didn't need to be told twice, his body moving before his mind could even catch up. his hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers pressing into your skin as he began to move beneath you. he was desperate, rough and almost feral in his movements, his control snapped clean in half as he finally, finally got the friction he craved. he let out a sharp groan, the sound low and ragged, as he found a fast and steady rhythm, his body moving with yours as he chased his pleasure. your blood came thick, still spilling slow and hot, like something torn open too suddenly. it didn't trickle it gushed, still coating his shaft in a deep, slick red that clung to his skin, and the couch. he shuddered against you, hips rocking hard against yours, a low groan came out his lips as he found his release, the pleasure washing over him in a wave so intense it had him seeing stars for a moment, his vision going white and his back arching up of the couch. his lungs screaming for air as he panted desperately, the pleasure and tension slowly easing. he fell back against the couch, body shaking slightly, the aftershocks of his release still lingering along his nerve endings. as he finally relaxed, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and clouded, his face flushed. you're both lying still together, your bodies tangled up on the couch in a mess of limbs and bloody skin. sweat glistens on both your bodies, the smell of sex heavy in the air. between your bodies, a sticky, bloody, wet mess of release slowly oozes down both of your thighs. bucky is panting softly against your skin, his body still trying to come down from the high, his hand rubbing up and down your back in a gentle, soothing motion.
his breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the soft, shaky gasps as he tries to catch his breath, his body still trembling a little. he lets out a small, soft moan, his hand grasping at your hip, his fingers just barely pressing against the skin. he's still holding you close to him, his grip firm and protective, as if he wants to keep you close and never let you go. he's trying to find words, but he's still too speechless from the intensity of his orgasm, his mind hazy. your bodies are both still shaking a little, the aftershocks of your lovemaking still lingering on your skin. he finally speaks, his voice still gruff and rough, a low sound against the sensitive skin of your neck. "you alright?" he murmurs sweetly, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw, his touch unexpectedly gentle. that rare kind of gentleness he only ever showed you.
"feel better." you mumble, a soft relieved smile on your face, your cramps subsided for now. he nodded, "good, that's good, sweetheart." he murmured, his voice a little rougher than usual, still tinged with the echoes of the intense pleasure he'd experienced just moments before. his gaze was soft and tender, his expression almost adoring as he looked up at you, his eyes drifting over your face, taking in every little detail.
you exhaled slowly, sinking into the softness of the moment, the weight of the day finally peeling away.
you brush your fingers through his hair, it was soft, a little damp with sweat, sticking up in places from your touch. a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. he leaned down, slow and unhurried, resting his head lightly on your belly. you felt him breathe there, felt the way his whole body relaxed against yours like you were home for him, too. neither of you said anything for a while. there wasn’t much that needed saying.
eventually, he shifted just enough to press a delicate kiss to your before curling up beside you, pulling the blankets over both of you with that one strong arm of his. his other hand found yours under the covers, fingers lacing without a second thought. he whispered something into your hair. you smiled, eyes fluttering shut as you sank into his warmth. bucky pressed another kiss to your temple, and then you both went quiet again, wrapped in soft blankets and softer love, the storm of the day left behind. you were tired, still, but you didn't feel alone. never with him.
Bucky with a breeding kink is a dangerous man,,,, he aims not to give you one kid, but triplets to get that big family he’s always wanted ❤️ surely you’ll be willing to if he’s pounding away at your needy cunt
thats the thing about this man. he uses his big body and sex against you, babes... he's pushing his cock as deep as it can go, arms wrapped around your entire body as he fucks into you. your legs are hooked between his big biceps as he fucks into you from behind— properly folding you.
he's spitting out the nastiest shit in your ear, before it just— snaps.
"i'm gonna fuck a baby— no, no— babies— into this fucking cunt."
your mouth falls open in a large sob after he says it, nearly cumming on the spot— cream frothing around the base of his swollen cock.
"wanna make me a daddy, sweetheart?" he asks, pressing a kiss to your ear as you huff and moan with no way to respond but mindless babbling.
"gonna take that as a yes."