Mcu Bucky Barnes - Blog Posts

Saving Grace - b. barnes

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; slight sweating, mention of a weapon/injury

word count; 1k+

summary; when you find yourself at the mercy of the infamous winter soldier, the only target that’s ever managed to outrun him, you still feel sorry for him. he’s an individual who has no free will of your own, you on the other hand, have free will. that’s what leads to you doing something you didn’t expect you would do.

links; Marvel Masterlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

Chaos.

That's the only word you could describe everything you saw around you. Ruin, blazes, destruction. All of this because you were the latest mission of a long list of names for the male stood in front of you.

Your team stood scattered around, as he drew closer to you. An emotionless stare burning into you as you stood your ground not ready to give up just yet. The faint static in your earpiece was jumbled with a response from someone but you didn't care to listen.

Your body grew tired as you contemplated accepting your fate. You heard the stories for as long as you could remember. A male soldier who was the best at crossing off names. HYDRA's top weapon. The legendary Winter Soldier. You, like many, believed him to be a myth. A story made up to scare young kids into following the right path because they didn't want to end up the same way he did. Only he turned out not to be a myth, he was very much real.

"Hey, (y/n), come on! Get out of there!".

The sudden loudness made you jump slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you forgot how long you had it. The creaking of leather coming closer drew you out of your daze.

This was the day you were going to die. Sure, you had those thoughts many a time before but the people who tried to kill you in the past? This guy made them look like amateurs. At best, a child would do a better job than them.

Your eyes finally locked with the soldier's as you continued to stand your ground. Hands dropping to your sides as your weapon thudded on the concrete. You were tired. Tired of running. Tired of trying to convince yourself that this was all some crazy nightmare and you'd wake up soon.

"Fine, you win. I'm tired of this bullshit. I'm tired of running from you!".

Not once did the assassin react to your words. His gaze remained fixed on the target that had spent so long running from him. Once your name was crossed off, HYRDA would be pleased. You should have been one of the easiest for him to kill but somehow, you were the hardest one. Managing to escape his attempts to thwart you time again until he cornered you in some little city not too far from where he was told you resided. It would be over in a matter of seconds but those last few seconds to you would be the most painful you had ever felt in all of your existence.

Letting out a shaky breath you closed your eyes, enjoying the blackness before it became one of the last things your mind had seen. The assassin's kills were anything but painless, being able to rid the plant of your existence in seconds. You had your typical regrets of someone in your position. Of the life you never lived, of the life you'll never get to live. Maybe if you hadn't spent the past few months on the run, you would have lived your life to the fullest ready to accept this day. Now that it was here, you didn't want to leave.

"Just get it over with, Winter Soldier! I'm sure HYDRA will celebrate in some sick and twisted way when~".

Something caused you to look over the metal shoulder as your eyes tried to fixate on something happening. You couldn't quite make it out but yet, down in your gut, you didn't have the greatest feeling about it. Squinting you saw the faint glimmer of what your team called the best weapon in your grasp. From talking to the people who had managed to survive a shot from it, you found them to be in pain many months after. Some of the pain strong enough to make them want someone or something to finish the job off.

Piecing things together in your head, your eyes widened in horror as your legs began to move. A loud shot being fired was all you heard as you rushed forward, managing to push the assassin out of the way. The hot metal of the bullet fired piercing your shoulder as you landed with a grunt, your breathing rate increasing as you gripped the wound, hissing out at the contact. You don't know what made you move but something told you to save the soldier.

Judging by the look in his eyes, your reaction had taken him by just as much surprise as you.

Looking down, a small smile tugged at the corner of the sitting figure’s lips as they leaned over, placing a soft kiss upon the other's forehead. It had been a few years since that incident and they couldn't thank you enough for taking the first steps towards their freedom.

Sure, Bucky still had the arm given to him by HYDRA but he was planning on replacing it as soon as possible. The final piece of his horrible past as a ruthless killer. He didn't know why you had done what you had done but he was thankful. You may have been the only person to escape him for so long but maybe it was for that reason alone you had.

Cliché or not, you were his saving grace and he wasn't going to let you go anytime soon. Even if it killed him in the process.

Unsure - b. barnes

a/n; welcome to my first piece of writing! this is from ‘aphrodisia’ which is found on both Wattpad & ao3. hope you enjoy!

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 352

prompt based; “Can I kiss you?“

"Can I kiss you?”.

Blinking in confusion for a moment, you tilted your head at the male in front of you as the words processed in your head. Had you heard right? Surely you hadn’t. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. Humming out slightly, you held your hand out in front of you for him to take before stepping forward.

Keep reading

Daddy? - b. barnes

a/n; just a little headcanon on how I feel Bucky would react to his s/o being pregnant- worried and scared mainly.

pairing; TFATWS Bucky x female! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 563

headcanon; Finding out girlfriend/fiancée/wife is pregnant.

links; Marvel Matserlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

Blinking in confusion, it took him a minute to process what was said and that’s when it had hit him. Did he hear what you had said correctly? You were pregnant?

Feels like his heart stopped for a moment. Part of him feels like this is the last thing he wanted to happen right now. The other half practically screaming for joy.

The internal conflict he felt soon showed on his face. Was he ready to be a dad? He certainly didn't feel ready. Not in the slightest.

He'd only just gotten back to being classed as a normal citizen, not only by his therapist but the government as well. He didn’t want to mess that up so soon with emotions that threatened to overflow.

How could someone who was known to be a cold-blooded killer, despite his now successful attempt to fit back into society be deemed fit enough to look after a tiny life?

He certainly didn't think he would be fit enough as his eyes glanced at the objects you held in your outstretched hands.

A scan picture in one hand, showing the tiny life slowly growing in you. In the other a tiny little bodysuit with the words "Sergeant In Training coming soon!"

The look on your face was one of pure joy as you looked at him, your joy dropping as you chewed your lip in anticipation for his actual reaction. You both knew it was bound to happen sooner or later - he couldn’t keep his hand off you half the time.

How it hadn’t happened earlier was beyond you. Yet here you were, proof in your hands as your figure began to swell slightly. "James? Are you okay?".

He'd been zoned out for so long he that didn't realise you had moved forward until he looked down, seeing your eyes look up at him as you continued to hold the items in your hands.

Wrapping his arms around you, he embraced you, holding you close to him as he smiled softly. His grip on you never fading as he rubbed patterns on the small of your back, afraid to let you go now you're carrying something precious to not only him but you. "Yes doll, I'm okay~".

Leans down and peppers kisses all over your face, enjoying the sound of your small laughs as you hug closer to him. “~Besides, I should be asking you if you're okay. After all, it might not be an easy pregnancy for you".

The reality is he's scared. Scared because he doesn't know if he's fit to look after something so small and delicate when they arrive.

Also, he’s scared for you. Carrying a super soldier's child was rumoured to be an extremely difficult time. All thanks to that serum once used. “James, I'm okay. As long as I take care, I'll handle whatever this little one throws at me".

He steps back from you after removing his arms, placing his flesh hand on your slightly swollen stomach. Your soft hum lulling him as your hands cover his.

He loves you. He adores you. He'll protect you and support you no matter how hard it is.

It's the least he can do, after all, you did that for him. You never backed down and you fought with such pride and love, he knows you’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Unsure - b. barnes

a/n; welcome to my first piece of writing! this is from ‘aphrodisia’ which is found on both Wattpad & ao3. hope you enjoy!

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 352

prompt based; “Can I kiss you?"

links; Marvel Materlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

"Can I kiss you?".

Blinking in confusion for a moment, you tilted your head at the male in front of you as the words processed in your head. Had you heard right? Surely you hadn't. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. Humming out slightly, you held your hand out in front of you for him to take before stepping forward.

The eyes of the Soldat watched your movements carefully as he tried to assess the situation. Had he gone too far? Maybe he had moved too fast? Ever since he'd managed to escape the clutches of HYDRA with your help he had a hard time trying to gauge how both you and he felt.

He had spent so long being told to feel one way that anything other than what he was used to at a certain point was foreign, and he certainly didn't like it. Yet with a little coaxing, he began to accept that there were other feelings humans were meant to feel.

Super soldiers or not.

Lifting your free hand you turned his hand over, palm facing up as the pads of your fingers began to draw soothing circles on the rough skin. A content hum passed your lips as it turned into a calming tune. One you knew your Soldat would relax too.

"Kiska~".

The gentle smile that appeared on your face made Bucky fall in love with you all over again. Despite all the kills. The violence. The mind-numbing emptiness. He could always count on you no matter what.

"Moya Lyubov, you don't need to ask that~".

Gentle hands cupped a tired face as noses rubbed together. A small giggle of happiness slipping from the shorter of the two as the others arms encased you. One warm and soft while the other contrasted, cold and hard.

Breath fanned across soft lips, the Soldat taking the opportunity to look over your face. From the tiny curve of your lips to the almost invisible freckles that graced your skin, he loved how perfect you looked.

"My sweet Soldat, you can kiss me whenever you like~".

[ FLOWER SHOP OF NEW FEELINGS MASTERLIST ]

started : 04 / 21 / 2025

ended : n/a , ongoing

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

summary : When Clint's birthday comes sooner than Bucky realized, Steve forced him to go buy some gift for Hawkeye. Figuring that flowers were an easy enough gift, he takes a visit to the flower on the corner of the street.. There, he meets a cute florist, someone who seemed to melt his cold heart. How will Bucky navigate this modern world romance? Will he allow himself to fall in love? If so.. How will he keep this from the team? And how will you navigate a friendship - let alone romance - with one of the most closed off Avengers?

[ 01 : the cute florist ]

[ 02 : get a grip ]

[ 03 : distractions ]

[ 04 : unlucky ]

[ 05 : run ]

[ 06 : bad feeling ]

Loving how they used the comic design for the new red star ⭐

Loving how they used the comic design for the new red star ⭐

Just give Buck his baby

Chocaholics Anonymous

For @buck-star 's Easter Challenge 🐣🐰

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Prompt: 🐰 Choclate (way toooooooooooo much)

Word count: ?

Tags/Warnings: None. Just really goofy fluff

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through AI. All of my work is 18+ so read at your own risk.

Summary: You notice that your chocolate stash is depleting rapidly and begin a note exchange with your chocolate thief.

Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

A/N: Also 350+ followers?? Hi you guys!! ☺️

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Navigation

Your chocolate stash was a chocoholic's dream. Hidden in the back of the dustiest, least used kitchen cupboard was a fake backing; with no pipes running through it to make sure no one accidentally stumbled upon your stash.

Steve and Thor were cretins when it came to chocolate and - probably due to their size and training regimens - could eat your stash in one sitting. However, you'd chewed them out so bad you thought they would burst into tears, and then promptly devised your super secret stash cupboard to ensure it never happened again.

Which was why you were surprised to find that, even though you'd definitely replaced your fake backing when you last used it, your stash had most definitely depleted.

You couldn't remember eating the bars that were missing. Even if you had somehow managed to sleep walk to your cupboard, the lack of evidence in wrappers and chocolate smears was concerning.

You didn't want to signal to the other avengers that you had a new secret stash, or that you knew one of them was a thief, so you opted to leave a note printed from the team's computer. With a team full of spies, geniuses and magic users, you didn't need the thief to know who you were from your handwriting.

Placing the note clearly upon the chocolate pile you re-fix the fake backing, the words slowly fading from view.

I know who you are. Count your days chocolate thief (<.<)

Bucky was surprised to find a note left on top of the supposedly abandoned chocolate stash he'd stumbled upon. He had - incorrectly - assumed that the chocolate stash had been long forgotten about and that the goldmine of sweet, cocoa-y goodness was his and his alone. Knowing that he was in fact a thief, made him feel only slightly guilty as he reached for another chocolate bar, deciding that he would leave a note of his own and replace what he'd taken.

Clearly, whoever had left the note and created this hidden stash wanted to remain anonymous. However, he wondered who on earth on the team it could be.

You read out the newest note aloud in the quiet of your room, trying to put together a mental list of suspects as you skim the words.

"Dear Chocolate Fairy," you begin, already frowning. "I'm sorry for eating your chocolate. Great. At least there's an apology."

You sigh. An apology meant it couldn't have been Tony; he'd never apologise for something like that. Maybe buy you stock in Cadbury but never apologise apologise.

"To make it up to you, I'll buy your favourite to replace what I stole. Just leave me a note of your chocolate of choice."

You nod approvingly but keep your frown as you type up your new note into a word document. Who on earth was your Anonymous Chocolate Thief?

A week later, you were no closer to finding the identity of your Chocolate Thief.

Steve and Clint were on a mission when the last note appeared, Thor was off world and when you'd subtly asked Bruce if he'd like any chocolate from the store he'd told you he preferred savoury snacks and asked if you'd pick up some Pringles instead.

On your weekly coffee meet with Natasha, you ask her about her chocolate preferences, only earning you a sigh.

"This again?" She tuts. "You're a chocaholic. Besides, with Steve and Thor gone you have nothing to worry about and you don't keep chocolate in the tower anymore. What's bothering you?"

You look sheepishly into your hot chocolate and try to come up with a good excuse.

"Nothing." You sip at your chocolate-y concoction. You couldn't tell Nat about your chocolate issue because she'd find out who it was immediately and truth be told you were enjoying your game of Whodunnit. "Anyways, tell me about that last mission you were on..."

"Man, this is too much chocolate. Even for you." Sam had rummaged through some of Bucky's grocery bags to find that at least two of them were filled with chocolate bars. "What are you gonna do with all this?"

Bucky eyes him suspiciously before snatching the bar he was holding out of his hand. "None of your business."

Sam throws up his hands in defeat before sneaking another bar into his pocket. "Do I need to let Steve know in case this is a... Thing?"

Bucky frowns over at Sam, picking up the grocery bags in his left hand. "A Thing?"

"Yeah. A Thing." Sam frowns back, folding his arms over his chest. "You're hoarding chocolate like it's gold so unless you're plotting something, I don't see how you're gonna eat that much."

Bucky purses his lips in consideration before sighing, realising Sam was correct and that he was acting stranger than usual. "I...you're gonna have to trust me Sam, this isn't for me."

"Right."

"I swear."

"Yeah." Sam shakes his head. "Whatever man, if you get stuck in a chocolate coma I'm not helping you out of it."

Bucky rolls his eyes and is about to pad off to his room to wait until everyone is asleep to access the secret stash but halts when Sam chirps behind him.

"You should ask Y/N if she wants any of your bars."

"What? Why?" Bucky turns back to Sam with a curious look.

"She's a chocaholic to the max." Sam chuckles and gives Bucky a knowing smirk. "Besides, it might gain you some points in her favour don't you think?"

Bucky spins around on his heel to try and hide the warmth gracing his cheeks but Sam had already spotted it and snorts, calling after him.

"And try smiling more!"

The following night, you almost burst into laughter when you open up the false backing. The stash is filled to the brim with your favourite chocolate that you feel sick just looking at it. Attached to the very top is a note that reads "Sorry :(".

A small twinge of guilt twists in your stomach and you feel a little disappointed that your Chocolate Thief is no more. You'll never know their identity - and you wonder if your mysterious Chocolate Thief will visit your dreams as a handsome man who looks suspiciously like one Bucky Barnes.

You sigh picking up a bar. There's so much chocolate stuffed inside it could take you a year to eat through it all. You startle when you hear the approach of footsteps, and begin hurriedly shoving chocolate bars back into the cupboard, smacking your head as you jump off the ground.

"Hi." You say, trying not to look too frazzled as Bucky appears.

"Hey." He says and for a moment you both stare at eachother in the dark of the kitchen.

"What are you doing up so late?" You stall, kicking a stray bar across the kitchen floor.

"Uh..." Bucky panics and then wiggles a piece of paper he's holding. "Report."

"Couldn't it wait till the morning?" You ask, starting to smile.

"Couldn't sleep." Bucky finishes lamely before smiling shyly. "You?"

"Same." You lie but if staying up meant eating chocolate and speaking with Bucky, you'd gladly pay the price of no sleep. "Want a cocoa?"

Bucky snorts. "Sam said you were a chocaholic."

You shrug trying to play it off but man, you really did have a reputation.

"I'm thinking of starting a club." You say playfully, heading to the cupboard for a mug. "Chocaholics Anonymous. What do you think?"

Your grin widens when you hear Bucky's laughter, heart fluttering when you catch a playful gleam in his blue eyes.

"I think you'd be the only member." Bucky says, watching you make your chocolate drink with a hint of jealousy.

"I could get Steve and Thor involved." You say mock-thoughtfully.

"Do you even have a favourite chocolate if you're a chocaholic?" Bucky asks curiously.

"Oh yeah." You say nonchalantly, adding heaped teaspoons of cocoa mix to your mug, uttering your favourite bar without a second thought. "But there's different brands who use different amounts of cocoa to milk solids and blah blah blah."

You turn and fix Bucky with another smile. "What about you?"

Bucky opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. He can feel heat crawling all over his face and a smile itching to break free; you were the Chocolate Fairy. It was your stash he'd broken into.

No wonder you'd been so touchy about your chocolate.

"I don't have a favourite." Bucky says. "I take what I can get my hands on."

You falter at his words for a moment before grabbing the milk from the fridge. "Yuh huh. I know the type."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky teases and you giggle as you put your cocoa in the microwave.

"Nothing."

"It didn't sound like nothing."

"Bucky, come on -"

"Sounds like you were insinuating I was some sort of Chocolate Thief."

You spin around to face him pointing wildly. Bucky points back accusingly.

"You're the Chocolate Thief!" You gasp.

"You're the Chocolate Fairy!" Bucky exclaims back.

A moment passes before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles, interrupted only by the ding of the microwave.

"You bought wayyy too much chocolate, Buck." You snicker, grabbing your mug. "But I'll happily share it with you."

"Sam did say I went overboard but I have a better idea." You raise an eyebrow at Bucky, who gives you a cheeky smile. "We choose some snacks and a movie, melt the chocolate and gorge ourselves into a chocolate coma."

You nod excitedly, your stomach swooping with joy. "It's a date, Thief."

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Art fight is JerichoMadden13- follow me

Art dump

Avengers Tower Fics are so back y’all

Waiting for evac

How long did he wait there…

//tw blood

AGAIN

Armed and dangerous :)

I love him

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

the tower isn’t what it used to be. no more clean metal shine. no more stark’s weird robot jazz echoing off the walls. now there’s throw blankets that don’t match, mismatched mugs in the kitchen sink, and half a pizza box abandoned on the coffee table under a forgotten tablet glowing faint blue. the new avengers are spread across the sectional like dropped laundry. yelena belova was upside down with her legs hanging off the top, scrolling on her phone like the fate of the universe depends on it. john walker's asleep with one arm tossed over his eyes, pretending not to be listening. and you, you’re tucked in next to bucky barnes cause it’s always been that way.

his arm’s around your waist, the metal one, heavy and cool through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. your legs are half across his lap. there’s a blanket barely clinging to both of you. you lean in slowly, kissing the corner of his mouth first, he hums something. so you do it again, softer. your lips trail across the edge of his jaw, warm and lazy. and he finally looks at you, real slow, real tired.

“you tryin’ to distract me?” he says, voice rough with sleep or maybe something else.

“from what?” you whisper. “yelena's tiktok rabbit hole? pretty sure the world’ll keep turning.”

he chuckles, breath fogging warm against your temple. “you’re gonna get us kicked off the couch.”

“then we’ll take the beanbag. better view of the stars anyway.”

there’s a long pause, no one talking, just the low thrum of the tower’s power system and distant sirens down in the city, muffled by double pane glass and altitude. bucky doesn’t say much when he’s tired. doesn’t need to. his hand settles over yours, thumb dragging lazy circles over your skin.

your powers flicker under your skin when you’re this close. heat like static behind your ribs. reality bends easier around you when he touches you. he doesn’t flinch anymore when it happens. the way light bends a little around your fingertips. how your shadow twitches half a second slower than your body.

“you’re glowing again,” he mumbles.

“can’t help it.” you grin against his throat. “you make me all… photonic.”

“that a scientific term?”

“yup. real cutting edge. avengers approved.”

he turns toward you fully then, presses a slow kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then your lips. it’s nothing hurried. like sunday mornings. like breath.

near you, yelena mutters, “jesus. get a room.”

you don’t look away. neither does bucky. just smirks against your mouth.

a/n: i actually hate this so much! but forgive me for i was puking my brains out yesterday when i wrote this.

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

the apartment is quiet except for the soft sound of the stove and the distant rhythm of traffic outside. your daughter is at the table, her little legs swinging from the chair, tongue poking out in concentration as she draws. crayon in one hand, juice box in the other. there's a mess of purple scribbles that sort of look like a shield. or maybe a cat. you’re chopping vegetables one handed, phone balanced on your shoulder, listening to a voicemail from your sister you’ve already heard twice today. the mundane feels good. normal. still. the front door doesn’t creak anymore—bucky fixed the hinge last week—but you still hear him before you see him. boots scuffing the hallway floor. the rustle of that jacket he won’t get rid of. you glance up and he’s there, like he always is lately. a little tired around the eyes, jaw set, still half lost in whatever mission they just pulled him from.

he drops his duffel at the door and steps out of his boots before he even says hi. you know what that means. it was a rough one.

“hey,” you say, not turning around yet.

“hey.” his voice is low, rasped at the edges. he moves into the kitchen slowly, like he’s not sure how to belong in the quiet after everything loud.

“daddy!” lily shouts, twisting in her seat. she scrambles down and runs to him.

his face softens the second she touches him. “hey,” he says, crouching low to catch her. “what’d i miss?”

“i drew you!" she announces proudly, pulling him by the hand toward the table.

he gives you a quick glance, something grateful in it, like he’s thanking you just for being here, for holding it all together.

you dry your hands and join them. lily is explaining the drawing: him in a suit, you with a bow and arrow (which you definitely don’t use anymore), and some kind of flying car in the sky. bucky listens like it’s the most important briefing he’s ever received.

“that me?” he asks, pointing at the stick figure with messy scribbles for hair and something that might be a star on his chest.

“yeah,” she grins. “you’re an avenger now.”

bucky huffs a laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “guess i am, huh.”

he doesn’t sound proud. not exactly. more like he’s still trying to believe it. still doesn’t know what it means to be one of the good guys. still doesn’t feel like he belongs in the lineup. but you see it. in the way he kneels on the kitchen floor to listen to his daughter’s stories. in the way he checks every window and door before bed. in how he wakes up in the middle of the night just to look at the two of you and make sure it’s real. he’s not the winter soldier anymore. he’s something new. something softer. something harder to define.

after dinner, he helps clean up without being asked. washes dishes with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, that vibranium arm gleaming under the kitchen light. you lean against the counter, watching him in the quiet.

“you okay?” you ask.

he nods slowly. “just… tired.”

you reach for him without thinking, resting a hand on his back. “i can’t tell if you mean physically or existentially.”

he gives a small, tired smile. “both.”

there’s a pause. then, quieter: “they’re calling us something new now,” he says. “not 'thunderbolts' anymore. it’s more official. more public.”

“new avengers?”

“something like that.”

you nod. you expected this. since val’s people started cleaning house and putting the new lineup together. since they sent him back into the field with an actual team and something that looked like purpose.

“you good with that?” you ask.

he shrugs. “i don’t know. i keep waiting for someone to realize i’m not supposed to be there.”

“bucky,” you say, serious now. “you’ve earned this.”

“have i?”

“you show up. every day. for us. for them. for yourself. what more do you want?”

he leans in then, forehead to yours, just breathing you in.

later, after lily’s asleep and the apartment is dark except for the low lamp by the bed, he crawls in beside you and wraps an arm around your waist.

“i don’t know how to be the guy she thinks i am,” he murmurs.

you press a kiss to his collarbone. “you don’t have to be. just... be here for her.”

he exhales against your neck. “that, i can do.”

you two couldn't sleep. the blankets in the bed are pulled up to your waists, your legs tangled without thinking. the lamp casts a warm gold over the room. he’s lying on his side, head propped on his hand, his hair’s still damp from the shower, curling just a little at the ends, and his skin smells like your body wash.

“you're pretty.” he praises lowly, voice rough and tired.

you smile, eyes closed. “mm. pretty sure you said that yesterday.”

he leans in, nose brushing your jaw, lips finding the edge of your neck. slow, unhurried. “yeah, well. still true.”

you hum, tilting your chin up for him without even thinking. he kisses the spot just beneath your ear, where your pulse flutters, and you feel him smile against your skin. his hand slides over your hip under the blanket, fingertips tracing the shape of you like he’s grounding himself there. he tugs gently at the edge of his old henley you’d stolen months ago. his hand doesn’t stop moving. just slow passes over the curve of your waist, your thigh, your back. it’s not rushed. not needy.

he mouths at your jaw, your neck, just a press of lips. not quite kisses. you think maybe he’s too tired for anything more. you’re so caught up in the press of his body, the feel of him in your space, that you almost don’t notice when his hand presses into the small of your back and tugs. he pushes you gently until you’re on your back, flat against the bed. he shifts, moving to hover over you like always. he leans in for a proper kiss then, slow and warm. something like coming home. you meet him with a hand in his hair, keeping him there, and feel his answering smile against your lips. it’s not long before it edges deeper, rougher. he bites at your lip, tugging softly, and you arch up against him with a sharp inhale. "lily's right there—" you breathe out.

he doesn’t pull away. just hums against your mouth. he noses at your neck again, the rough edge of his stubble dragging over your skin. "she’s the heaviest sleeper on the planet. we’ll be fine.”

you kiss him, warm breath mingling in the hush between heartbeats. he smiles into the kiss, hand sliding up to cup your jaw, thumb sweeping over your cheek. steadying you as your mouth moves in a quiet rhythm, tasting the moment. it’s soft but deliberate, each kiss deepening just enough to make you both lean in more, wanting, needing, sighing into eachother. the world narrows to skin, and lips. his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. it’s so gentle, so careful.

just as he’s pulled back a fraction, the bedroom door creaks open. he’s off you in a second, dropping to his elbows at your side. you’re both breathing heavy, heart going wild. lily stands in the doorway, looking tiny in her little white nightgown. “can’t sleep?” bucky asks, running a hand through his hair. you notice in the low light that the tips of his ears are flushed pink. your shirt collar is askew, his henley twisted around your waist. she shakes her head and pads over. she’s rubbing one eye with a tiny fist and dragging her blanket on the floor behind her. bucky props himself up, shifting to make room for her on the bed. 

“alright. come here,” he murmurs, lifting her up. she slots herself in between you easily, shoving her face in your shoulder like she always does. she’s warm from sleep, the side of her little body pushing flush against yours. bucky’s hand is splayed across her back, his thumb rubbing idle circles. 

“how are you doing?” you ask, smoothing her messy hair down. usually, once she’s down for the night, she’s out for the count. 

she looks up at you, blinking sleepily, then at him. his cheek is resting on top of her head. “i had a nightmare,” she mumbles into your shirt. 

his face softens instantly. you can feel his hand on her back pause for a second. “what about?” he asks. 

“you an’ momma were gone,” she mumbles, voice going soft. “for a long time.” her little fist grips your shirt tighter. 

“not going anywhere, kid,” he says, voice low. he presses a kiss to her head, eyes still on you. “promise.” 

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.

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

the apartment was quiet in the best way. the kind of silence filled with low music from an old record player, the occasional thump of alpine leaping off furniture she wasn’t supposed to be on, and the rhythmic scrape of a whittling knife against wood. you sat cross legged on the couch, a bowl of cherries balanced on your knee, fingers stained just a little red. alpine was curled beside you, batting lazily at your sock with one paw between quick cat naps. you plucked another cherry from the bowl and popped it in your mouth, letting the sweetness distract you from anything else going on in the world.

across the room, bucky sat in his favorite chair, hunched over a block of wood he’d been shaping for the past few days. his brow was furrowed in concentration, lips pressed together in that way he did when he was deep in a project. you weren’t entirely sure what it was going to be, a bird maybe? or a wolf? but whatever it was, you could already see the quiet pride in the little details he carved.

you watched him for a moment, chin propped in your hand. his hair had fallen in front of his face again. you knew he’d huff and push it back soon, probably without even realizing. it made you smile.

eventually, he looked up, catching you staring.

“what?” he asked, a slow grin tugging at his mouth.

“nothing,” you said innocently, though your voice gave you away. “just admiring the view.”

bucky snorted and set the carving down, brushing wood shavings from his jeans before making his way to the couch. alpine immediately stretched and climbed into his lap like she owned him—which, to be fair, she kind of did.

he leaned back, stretching his arm along the back of the couch behind you. “you’ve had, like, ten bowls of those."

you plucked another one from the bowl and held it up like a peace offering. “they’re good.”

he rolled his eyes fondly but took the cherry anyway, biting into it with a soft crunch. you watched him chew, then reached for another, tongue fiddling with the stem like you’d done a dozen times already.

“hey,” you said, glancing sideways at him. “did you ever hear that thing about cherry stems?”

he raised a brow. “what thing?”

you smiled, trying to sound nonchalant. “supposedly, if you can tie a knot in the stem with just your tongue, it means you’re a good kisser.”

bucky blinked. then he smirked a little. “oh really?”

you nodded, biting back a grin as you held up a stem. “wanna try?”

he plucked it from your fingers without hesitation, eyes glinting with mischief. “watch and learn.”

you watched as he worked the stem between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration again, but this time, it was entirely for your benefit. alpine chirped softly, as if judging the performance.

a few moments passed, and bucky pulled the stem out, tied in a surprisingly perfect little knot.

you stared. “okay, show off.”

he leaned in just enough for his voice to drop a little. “guess you’ll have to test the theory now.”

your breath caught just slightly, heat blooming in your cheeks. “maybe i will.”

he was still smiling when he kissed you, it was slow and warm, the cherry bowl nearly tipped off your lap, but neither of you really cared.

from the corner of the couch, alpine meowed in protest.

bucky smiled lazily while kissing you, his hand fisting into your hair in an instant, tugging you even closer. the cherry bowl hit the floor with a thump, but neither of you paid attention. his lips move against yours like a slow burn, he pulled you closer, one of his legs sliding under you to bring your body against his own, the warmth of him spreading through your entire body. he tugged at your lower lip with his teeth, gently, before he finally pulled back with a soft gasp of air. he murmured, “enough proof for you?”

you hummed out a soft laugh, tilting your head in order to brush your lips against the underside of his jaw. “maybe,” you murmured, shifting in his lap, one of your legs slinging over his hip. “but it wouldn’t hurt if you wanted to provide more. just to be sure.”

he chuckles, and you feel his free hand slide up your back, his palm tracing your spine. he pressed his lips to your neck, his breath warm as his lips grazed the sensitive skin just behind your ear. “well, i’ve always been something of a overachiever…” he murmured, his mouth moving slowly down your neck. he slid his hand under your shirt, his fingers a warm brand against your skin, as his mouth found the hollow of your collarbone. you let out a soft sound, arching against him, as he traced the line of your collarbone with his kisses, his fingers dipping lower, the touch a slow burn against your stomach.

his lips moved against yours, slow, lazy and warm, his hands moving to your hips, gently guiding you to straddle him. you tasted like the sweet, tart flavor of the cherries you'd been eating. as his hands drifted upward under your shirt, fingertips tracing their way over your back. he murmured your name, his voice low and a little rough, against your lips, and when he pulled back to meet your gaze, his cheeks were flushed.

his lips were soft and warm, the kiss slow and deep, your mouths moving together in a gentle rhythm. your hips pressed against his, and his fingers traced a slow path up your bare spine, his kisses grew just a little more insistent, his tongue slipping between your lips as he tugged you closer. the hand at your back slid under the edge of your bra strap, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just below, the touch sending a cold shiver through you.

the kiss heated, his tongue slipping into your mouth, exploring the wet heat of it, before coaxing your own tongue into his mouth, tasting you with slow, lazy strokes. he let out a soft groan, as you pressed your hips down against him, his hands gripping your waist to guide your movements. you felt the hard muscle of his thighs against you, the tension in his body a clear sign of his desire. he was beginning to kiss you desperately, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your stomach flip, lips moving against his in a messy and needy kiss. palming your waist gently.

he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a little breathy. “do you believe me yet?” he murmured, his eyes half lidded as they roved over your face, taking in the way your lips were still slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

you hummed out a laugh, rolling your hips again, feeling a little thrill of satisfaction when his expression shifted, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he let out a low groan. “i don’t know,” you murmured, “i think i might need a little more convincing.”

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

the walls were humming again.

old brownstone in brooklyn, refurbished under tony’s sardonic generosity, always kept a low electric thrum in its bones, like the ghosts of forgotten circuits whispering secrets only bucky could half understand. you stood in the kitchen, brewing chamomile tea, because caffeine might nudge him too close to that frayed edge. and tonight wasn’t about vigilance. tonight was about the slow reassembly of someone who’d come apart in the public square.

"you're up," you said without turning. you knew his footsteps by now, they were measured, controlled, like a dancer trained by violence. the tea kettle clicked off. you didn’t look yet, you didn’t have to.

"didn’t sleep," came the reply, low and rough, as if spoken through gauze. there was a lilt of apology buried in the words, though he would never say sorry for something he couldn't remember.

"nightmares?" you asked, pouring two mugs, yours black, his with a generous slosh of milk. bucky didn’t answer right away. you finally glanced at him.

his face bore the aftermath, not of a battle, but of the war within. a gash, hastily closed with someone else’s field kit, reopened across his temple. the left sleeve of his shirt was torn and soaked dark from shoulder to elbow. blood. his or someone else's, you didn’t ask yet.

he looked at you like you were a mirror he was afraid to believe in. "i—" he began, then faltered. the words, you imagined, must have choked like wires tangled in the gears of his mind.

“it wasn’t you,” you said, not kindly, not cruelly, just truthfully. that mattered more.

bucky lowered himself into the old leather armchair, tony’s, once, back in the MIT dorms when he'd had enough ego to furnish a living room like a billionaire. you smiled faintly at the memory. tony had been your friend first. before the fame, before the arc reactor. before everything.

"you heard what happened?" bucky asked.

you nodded. “i did.”

it had started three days ago, a hidden hydra outpost in the carpathians had released a dead protocol, something ancient and buried in binary. a psychic landmine, they called it. bucky, standing too close to the detonation, had turned before anyone could react. in twenty minutes, he nearly killed sam, cracked nat’s ribcage, and left steve unconscious in a crater the size of a van. the winter soldier had returned. perfect, brutal, remorseless.

he’d disappeared afterward. the avengers had looked, of course. you hadn’t.

you knew he’d come here.

“i thought i’d locked it away,” he whispered. “i thought it was done.”

“no one ever locks anything away,” you said, handing him his tea. “not really. we just learn to live beside it.”

bucky took the mug with his left hand. the vibranium fingers trembled just slightly.

you knelt in front of him, grabbing the first aid kit from beneath the table, white with a red cross that had faded to a tired pink. like most things in this house, it carried the wear of use and memory. your hands were steady as you pulled gauze and antiseptic. his eyes followed your movements, but he didn’t flinch. not at the alcohol, not at the sting. that was its own kind of progress.

“tony would’ve been pissed,” bucky said, voice flat.

you smiled softly, not looking up from where you were dabbing at the gash above his eye. “he would’ve had you in a magnetic net before you blinked. then he’d get drunk and make you apologize to his suit.”

bucky chuckled, barely, but it was a laugh, however hollow. “you miss him?”

“every day,” you said simply.

there was a silence then, not empty but full. the kind of silence that grows between people who don’t need to fill it to know it matters.

the fire crackled in the hearth. outside, snow began to fall in soft, unhurried spirals. in here, there was warmth. in here, he was just bucky. scared, wounded, healing. and you were here too, mending more than wounds.

he looked down at you, hair falling into his face, lips slightly parted as if to speak but afraid of the shape of the words.

“thank you,” he said, finally. two syllables, but they carried centuries.

you finished with the bandage and sat back, legs folded beneath you on the rug. “don’t thank me yet,” you said. “we’re not done. i’ve got soup and a lecture on post traumatic mythologies lined up. you don’t get to brood until we finish both.”

he looked at you like you were light seen through fog. dim, far, but steady.

a/n: literally wrote this at 3:00 AM so cut me slack 🙏 hope u enjoy regardless tho