I’m Really Hoping There Is Another Part Cause This Made Me 🤭🤭😩

IMAGINE HIM PUTTING THAT RING AROUND A CHAIN AND GIVING IT TO YOU THO

HIS FUCKING INITIALS???!!!??!?????? THATS SO DAMN SEXY ITS A FUCKING FALLS DOWN THERE KITTY IS ROARING

I'm very new to posting here but please enjoy 4.1k words of soft Bucky smut!

Do It Properly

You’re not sure what wakes you in the end. Whether it’s a creaky floorboard, a rustling of your sheets or merely the change in the air that another person brings. Whatever the reason, you open bleary eyes and squint into the darkness, reaching for your phone to check the time. You only notice another presence in your bedroom when he clears this throat and steps forward to the end of your bed.

You let out a tiny ‘eep’ of surprise before your mind registers who the shadowy shape belongs to, but you recover quickly enough to ask, “Bucky?”

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes; centenarian, former Winter Soldier and current cat-dad stands looking defeated by your feet.

“Hey,” he responds hoarsely, and you scramble for the switch on your lamp, desperate to see him properly.

The light starts low, gradually brightening the room as it warms up, bringing Bucky into visibility. He looks… well. You’ve seen him worse, definitely. He has this issue (you think it’s an issue, he doesn’t see the problem) in which he throws his whole body into fights with reckless abandon, his own well being taking a backseat when you’re not on missions to remind him that he should look after himself. That he needs to look after himself so he can come back home to you.

His right hand is bandaged which means it must have been pretty bad – they generally don’t bother wrapping up the super soldiers as most of their injuries have faded by the following morning, but it’s his face that really makes you gasp.

“Buck!” you whisper, horrified, as he shuffles forward, bashful under your gaze. “What happened?”

He shrugs off his jacket and you’re hit with the scent of gunpowder and smoke as he chucks it unceremoniously on the floor by the desk chair where Alpine is curled up. Al activates with an inquisitive puurp? arching his back in an elongated stretch to greet his daddy. Bucky turns to scritch the feline’s ears, rolling his shoulders at the same time. You take that to mean, don’t ask but you can’t ignore the angry red welts around his neck, the dark purple blooming under both eyes and Bucky’s wince when he huffs a laugh at Alpine when he kicks his back legs against his fingers as he tickles his tummy.

“Bucky…” you try again, shucking back the covers and reaching for his shoulder. You kneel on the bed and run your hand down his back soothingly, pretending that you’re not looking for further injuries. “You get your nose broken honey?”

Bucky ducks his head and looks at you through his eyelashes pitifully.

“Sam set it back already. Took the shield to the face,” he admits slowly, enjoying your touch as you ease the muscles in his shoulder and at the base of his neck with your fingers, searching out the pressure points that make him groan.

“Why, what’d you say?” you tease, gently.

Bucky huffs again, then cringes as it causes him pain, slumping close to lean on you.

“Wasn’t my fault,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. His left hand comes up to play with the strap of your tank top and you shiver against the cool metal. “Steve doesn’t enunciate. He only warned me to duck after he threw the damned thing. Jerk didn’t stop laughing the whole way home.”

You press your lips together and stroke the back of his head, making sure he stays buried in your neck so he can’t see how you’re struggling to hide your amusement.

“And this? You get on Sam’s bad side too?” you stroke his neck lightly, brushing against the vicious bruising that decorates the delicate skin there. Bucky stiffens almost imperceptibly, and you realise that he can’t talk about it. Not yet anyway. You know he’ll come to you when he’s ready.

You heave a sigh and push at his shoulder until he straightens, tilting his chin up to look you in the eye. “You just let me know if I need to go kick bird-boy’s ass, yeah?” you grin, peppering kisses over his eyebrow, betting that it’s a pain-free area before pulling him close again.

“Thanks baby,” Bucky answers on a heavy sigh. You continue threading your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, knowing the comfort of your touch is what he needs right now, rather than a dissection of his latest mission. You need the contact too, the physical reminder that he’s safe in your arms for the time being, though you make a mental note to ask the Captain why it looks like someone tried to garrotte your boyfriend. Honestly, what good is Steve if he’s not watching Bucky’s six when you’re not there?

You remain kneeling on the bed, letting Bucky use you as a crutch for as long as you can bare the weight of the 240-pound super soldier but eventually you have to push at his shoulder to get him to draw back. He harrumphs disappointedly but you know he’s not serious when his eyes drop from your face to skim along the length of your body, his right eyebrow raising appreciatively at the thin camisole and itty-bitty lace panties you’re wearing to counter the heat.

“Damn babydoll…” he begins, his hands hooking around the backs of your thighs to tug you along the bedspread, slightly closer to the edge. “You look good enough to eat.” He gives you a wolfish smile that has you admittedly a little weak in the knees and goes to duck towards your tits but you push at his forehead with a scoff.

“Uh-uh Barnes, don’t even think about it. You need a shower.” With your hands on his hips, he allows you to keep him at arm’s length while you slide from the bed and steer him towards your bathroom, his expression shifting from predatory to a dopey pleased grin as he allows you to take care of him.

“You gonna join me, sugar?” he asks, leaning against the sink as you turn the knobs and crank up the heat to a frankly dangerous degree because Bucky really doesn’t like the cold. You turn to catch him stifling a yawn into his fist, still fully dressed and you gesture at him impatiently.

“I don’t know, you gonna be able to keep your hands to yourself Sergeant?” You start unbuckling and tugging at his clothing, fighting with the supple leather that moulds to his arms as Bucky endeavours to stay awake. It’s a testament to how tired he actually is when you drop to your knees to wrestle his trousers down his legs and he doesn’t make a lewd joke, though you do see his half-hard length give a valiant twitch in his boxers before you tug those down too.

You help him into the shower, thankful that you don’t see any other bruising on his body but knowing that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt before you go to gather his clothes up into your arms. You don’t get that far though, as the glass door slides back open behind you and you’re tugged into the near-scalding water still in your sleep clothes.

“Buck!” you squawk, pressing yourself away from the water ineffectually as the spray soaks the front of your vest anyway. He crowds you up against the tiles that are already slick with condensation, effectively ensuring that no part of you has stayed dry.

“Mmm, you said you’d join me…” he mutters into your shoulder, nuzzling against your damp skin as his hands play with the lace covering your backside.

“And you said you’d keep your hands to yourself,” you huff playfully, reaching for the bar of Imperial Leather soap because old habits die hard and for Bucky the saying is doubly true. You lather the soap between your fingers and start moving it along his shoulders and back where you’re able to reach.

“No…” he drawls, slipping his fingers beneath your panties to stroke over the skin of your hips and ass as he presses his now very interested cock against your lower stomach and rocks you against him. “I didn’t answer and you interpreted my silence as agreement,” he murmurs. “I was very careful about that.”

You draw back and are faced with his incredibly pleased smile, almost impish in his glee that he’s managed to wrangle you into the shower with him for him to do as he pleases. You don’t have the heart to shatter his illusion with the truth, that you’d follow him anywhere under any conditions.

He tickles the soft skin between your thigh and hip and you squeal. You love seeing this side of Bucky, almost child-like in his mischief, even if the activity that you’re doing is very adult.

“Hmm, very clever…” you muse, drawing the soap down his right arm before sliding it up the other, ridding his skin and left arm of two days of sweat and gunpowder before starting to work on his chest. Bucky lets you work for a few quiet moments, watching your movements with half lidded eyes. You glance up at him and snort at the expression on his face; he’s hard for you but obviously can’t decide if he’s more sleepy or horny.

“Relax Buck,” you implore, working soap over his hips and kneading the bone there before making your way down his lower back, eliciting a sinful moan when you hit a knot and the muscle releases.

Bucky mumbles something into the skin of your neck between sweet kisses and you use one hand to tilt his head to the side when you ask him to repeat himself.

“Magic hands,” he slurs, rocking himself in time with your ministrations. “Magic, angel hands. Y’so good to me darlin’.” He pulls back and busies himself with playing with the strap of your tank top. “Wanna be good to you too.” Bucky’s hands drift southward to the waistband of your underwear, dipping his fingers in and teasingly raking his nails over the sensitive skin of your pelvis.

You shudder and feel his cock jump in response. Abandoning your task, you let the soap slide from your grip, ignoring the dull clunk as it hits the porcelain of the tub and instead wrapping your hand around his length and giving him one firm stroke from root to tip.

Bucky grunts, his hips jerking forward towards you. His hand slips fully between your thighs and you let out a sigh when his clever fingers part your folds to trace over your clit gently. Your natural slick mixes with the hot water still beating down on you both creating a heavenly slide that Bucky uses to his advantage, his movements becoming slightly rougher as you pant in his ear.

“That’s it baby, that feel good?” his voice is gruff as your desire heightens and he dips his forefinger into your core up to the first knuckle just to feel you clench around him when he strokes over the top of your clit just right. “Mmm, certainly seems like it feels good.”

You just have the wherewithal to register the slightly mocking tone in your boyfriend’s voice and retaliate with another firm tug on his member, the soap suds lingering on your palm making the glide smooth and slick, cutting off the rest of his sentence when it devolves into a whine.

You continue to jerk him slowly, reveling in the stuttering mess that you’re able to reduce him to with such a simple touch.

“Mmm, so sensitive honey,” you coo into his ear, increasing your pace incrementally. Bucky is completely at your mercy, his hand slackening in your panties and the coil in his stomach tightening with your movements. He rocks upwards on a gasp before straightening and grabbing desperately at your wrist.

“Stop – stop,” he pants, squeezing the base of his dick to stave off the orgasm that had crept up unexpectedly. “Fuck, almost made me blow my load in your hand baby, shit.” Your giggle sets him off with a growl and Bucky hoists you up into his arms, shredding your underwear with a wolfish grin.

“Bastard,” you say playfully, nipping at his bottom lip as he steadies you on a convenient shelf that you’ve only needed to replace three times since Bucky moved in with you.

“You gotta learn doll, none of your underwear is safe around me.”

As if to prove his point Bucky grabs a fistful of your top at chest level and you can see the gears turn in his head as he gets ready to yank and separate the body from the straps –

“Wait!” you call, throwing out an arm to catch his. “Just gimme a minute, damn,” you mutter, peeling the offending piece of clothing from your body and letting it drop to the floor with a wet thwack. “Running out of pyjamas thank you very much, some hopped-up super soldier keeps shredding all my clothes.”

There’s no remorse on Bucky’s face as he eyes your tits hungrily and you wonder when you lost your soft, sleepy boyfriend to this sex-starved menace. Deciding to tease him just a little more, you cup your chest, stroking lightly over your nipples and watch as his pupils dilate fully.

Bucky feels barely restrained, watching as you enjoy the delicate grace of your own touch and damn near drooling, desperate to get his mouth on your tits. He’s captivated by your movements.

“You okay there, Sarge?” you question, punctuating your words with a soft gasp as you apply more pressure to the sensitive peaks of your breasts. You arch your back a touch, your chest lifting just an inch or two closer and Bucky is salivating.

“More,” he requests, the whimper in his voice dampening the order. He recognises the tone for what it is – a plea – and he’d give almost anything to have his hands on you but – god – the way you’re writhing and panting before him, the slick folds of your cunt on display when you let your thighs fall open – Bucky can’t help but think you’re a goddess. He watches you for a minute longer, his body so tense that even the slightest touch might shatter him but what’s a goddess for if not to be worshipped? And Bucky will supplicate at your feet for eternity for you to rid him of his wrongs and cleanse the days before you. He’s been the luckiest son of a bitch for over a year now and he knows he’ll find heaven within you, that you lay peace and forgiveness down before him with simple caresses and erase his guilt with your lips.

You gift him a coy smile and let your hands drop, twining your fingers with Bucky’s and drawing him close until he’s stood between the ‘v’ of your legs, sharing your breath and feeling the heat rolling off your skin.

You tilt your head up and slant your lips against his, dragging his hands up your body to replace where yours had been on the mounds of your chest, encouraging him to squeeze and play as he wishes as you hook your calves over his hips and urge him closer still.

You chance a quick glance up at his face to find that he’s completely enraptured with your chest, snorting a laugh even as he feathers his thumbs over your nipples, raising goosebumps up your arms.

A shudder runs through Bucky’s body when he feels the tip of his cock brush against the heat between your legs and he tilts his hips forward to glide his length along you, delighting in your gasp when he grinds down against your clit.

“You want this?” Bucky asks, his expression split between cocky and desperate as he rocks against you, spreading his hands over your lower back and digging his fingertips into the meat of your ass.

“Mmm,” you whine, your head lolling back to rest against the shower tile, waiting for him to start pushing forward, for that first divine stretch that feels like nothing else –

But it’s not forthcoming. You crack your eyes open and lift your head questioningly.

“Please baby,” Bucky whines, pressing his hips into yours again. You reach up to stroke his cheek and just stop yourself from frowning.

“You need me to say it, Buck?” you ask softly, still running the tips of your fingers along his stubbled jaw, enjoying the scruff that pulls at your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah –“ each breathless plea is punctuated by an eager grind against you and you bite your lip against a moan when you feel his cock throb from where it’s trapped between your bodies.

“Okay honey,” your voice is shaky with desire for your man but you fight to keep your tone clear so he knows exactly how much you want him. “Please fuck me Bucky – I want it so bad, needed it the whole time you were gone – ah!”

You’re barely through your sentence when he thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt before stopping just as quickly as he’d begun.

“Fuck,” Bucky hisses. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Mmm,” you whine in response. “Need you to move honey.”

He raises his head and shoots you a look. It’s one that you don’t get very often but you cherish the pinched eyebrows and lip trapped between his teeth as he fights to stop himself from coming prematurely.

“Needja to be patient baby,” he gasps out, his hands clutching at your thighs bruisingly as his Brooklyn accent slips into place. You can almost see his thought process as he runs through baseball statistics and multiplication tables in his head. You’re sweating by the time the tension finally drains from Bucky’s shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on him when he gives a couple of gentle test-thrusts.

“You’re not helping,” he grunts, as he gets a better grip on your slippery skin to hoist your legs higher, and you’re honestly not sure if he’s speaking to you or your pussy.

You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as Bucky lets you know he’s ready with a sharp snap of his hips and a grunt from deep in his chest when you dig your nails into his shoulders in surprise.

“Careful with the claws, kitten,” Bucky groans before really laying into you.

You cling to one another as his hips snap into yours orchestrating a rhythm of skin hitting skin that is only amplified by the water. The bathroom echoes with your lovemaking, even as you bite at your lip – it’s still the middle of the night and you share walls with two other apartments in this block, not to mention your poor downstairs neighbours.

It only takes a few moments for Bucky’s rough strokes to build your pleasure high enough for you to stumble and a sharp moan of his name escapes you.

“Oh god honey,” Bucky pants, uncurling his left arm from around your waist to reach out and grab the top of the shower door for stability. “That good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you pant, “S’good Buck, it’s good.” Your words escape you in a staccato, hiccoughing rhythm that he punches out of you in time with the movement of his hips. You tip your head back and Bucky takes the opportunity to litter a series of sweet kisses against your neck, whispering words of devotion in between the brushes of his lips, drinking in the ecstatic sounds that you’re making.

“Fuck sweet girl, you’re so good, s’good, don’t wanna leave, never gonna leave ya again, love you so much baby,” Bucky’s inner monologue escapes without direction as your pleasure climbs, his words encouraging your end almost as much as his movement.

“Please – please Bucky,” you stutter out, dropping your hand between the two of you to stroke at your clit, your desperation for an orgasm acute after being without him for too long.

“Me, honey, let me,” Bucky insists, leaning his upper body away from you slightly to find the best angle. His practiced fingers find you easily and you feel yourself clench involuntarily around him when his thumb massages you in just the right pattern. The moan that you let out is quiet but so desperately needy that Bucky hisses when his cock throbs in response but by that time it’s too late for you anyway.

You dive off of the precipice, arching your back and feeling your pussy pulse uncontrollably as you’re ignited from the inside. Bucky pushes in to the hilt one final time before he too lets go, whimpering quietly as he joins your bliss.

You remain entwined beneath the water for a few long moments, relishing in the feel of one another before Bucky tilts his head back to look at you, his eyes still hazy with lingering pleasure. You know he’s not able to get drunk but if you saw him like this at any other time you’d assume he was intoxicated. You snort internally and go to make fun of his pussy-drunk expression when –

“Marry me.”

You slap your hand against the shower wall, groping desperately for the button that will halt the stream of water beating against the glass because you think that you just heard your super soldier boyfriend propose to you while he’s still very much inside you.

“What, Bucky-what?!” you finally locate the off switch and shower ceases, leaving the pitter-pattering of water droplets as the only sound in the room while you and Bucky stare at one another. “Did you just – ”

“No.” His response is short and sharp, cutting over the end of your question, as though he can’t bear to hear the words leave your lips. When you blink at him, he has the gall to look guilty and his shoulders drop in defeat. “I said – I – ” he takes a moment to clear his throat twice before speaking again.

“I said marry me. I’m sorry.”

Silence reigns again while you absorb the shock of his words.

“Bucky…” you begin slowly, wriggling back slightly to bring attention to his cock still buried to the hilt and his hips still fit snuggly between your thighs. “…are you proposing to me while you’re still balls deep?”

Bucky groans and lets his head drop to your shoulder as your laughter rings out but you wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze him as close to you as you possibly can, hooking your ankles one over the other at the small of his back so he can’t escape you.

“I – I had a plan, and a ring –” he starts to explain into your neck but you silence him with a tug to his hair so that you can meet his eyes. The concern etched on his face disappears almost as soon as he sees your joyful expression and he gifts you the softest, sweetest smile in return before taking a deep breath in and you just know what’s going to come next.

So you reach up quickly and place the tops of your fingers over his mouth.

This man – this man who has been through so much more than anyone should have to, who has survived horror and death and the loss of his autonomy only to come through the other side still able to love – deserves to have exactly what he wants. He deserves to have this moment, his proposal, exactly as picture perfect as he’s always imagined. And so although you know you’ll say yes, that you’ll marry him in a heartbeat, you halt Bucky’s next words.

“Wait,” you instruct gently. “Just wait. Do your plan – give me the ring.” You don’t explain further but brush your lips against his once, twice and whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you sweetheart.” Bucky responds just as quietly, and you feel the full force of his devotion and adoration hit you when he rests his forehead against yours briefly.

The moment is ruined when he steps away from you to turn the shower back on to wash away the evidence of your lovemaking with a mumbled; “It’s a good thing you didn’t say yes, Sam woulda never let me live it down if I’d proposed like that.”

You shuffle under the warm spray and wrap your arms around Bucky’s waist to gaze innocently up at him. “Oh – I’ll definitely be telling Sam about this,” you state. “My pussy game is so good that I got a marriage proposal? Bucky, I’m telling everyone.”

Your squeal echoes off the tiles as Bucky growls and digs his fingers into your waist in retaliation, grinning wickedly, and barely able to stop himself from sprinting to his underwear drawer to recover the ring nestled at the back.

He’ll do it properly tomorrow.

goodbye- b. barnes

pairings: past lover!enemy!bucky barnes x reader, mentions of steve rogers warnings: lovers to enemies to lovers, a lot of angst, mentions of blood, hydra, mentions of death and 40s bucky about: sleepover request “enemies to lovers with bucky” that got wayy out of hand because i apparently don’t know how to write something that doesn’t a/n: okayy so i have never written enemies to lovers before, so i hope i did this right, and i did change it a little to past lovers to enemies to lovers, i hope you don’t mind!! i’m not too sure how i feel about this, mainly because it’s so long for me that i’ll only be able to read and edit it like twice and i’ll start hating it by the first time. this is about 4k words, aka one of my longest fics ever edit: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO EDIT THIS WOW

bucky realizes exactly how bad his relationship with you has gotten when he overhears your argument with steve over the mission pairing next week. he doesn’t mean to; he knows how pissed at him you would get if you were to find out he was listening in to a conversation that didn’t include him— although, really, the last time he was included was decades ago, when you would smile at him with warm apple cheeks and let him tuck away stray strands of your hair.

your frustrated words sneak out through the cracks of the door, letting him know exactly how upset you are that you were paired with him for the mission.

“we’ve barely even talked—” bucky nearly scoffs at this, knowing well that it was your fault. although he can’t let you take full blame. “you know we won’t work well together. partners need to have each others’ back—” steve cuts you off at that, and it makes bucky glad because that had stung more than he thought it would. some part of him, even while you pointedly avoided his existence, thought that you still cared, even if it was monumentally less than the care you’d had for him before. he never wanted to confront the possibility that you didn’t care at all, that you would come running to steve in distaste at seeing your name and his next to each other.

“it’s done, y/n. deal with it. it’s only one mission,” steve tells you sternly, exasperated. bucky can see the tick of your jaw even through the door, the way you huff out of your nose and accept defeat. some things never changed, even after a near-century. there’s a silence bucky thinks indicates an end to the conversation, and he’s about to take his leave before he’s caught, but steve’s soft sigh stops him. “i thought this duel between you two would end by now,” he says, followed by a gentle scoff from you. steve ignores it, “you two were… so much bigger than this. are so much bigger than this.”

“he left me, steve,” you snap, words edged and sharp and pained, “he made me feel like another notch on his bedpost.” bucky nearly barges in right then and there, refusing to let you think like that. he knows he screwed up, but he never thought you’d think that. you were too good for him to think you meant so little to him; he had tried his best to make sure you didn’t think that way, he wasn’t sure when it went wrong. “he left me. didn’t even know he was gone ‘til i went over to his for the date he promised me and his ma told me he was gone.” bucky’s eyes close, forehead knocking soundlessly against the door frame. “at least you got a goodbye, stevie. all i got was assurance that i was never really anything to him,” your voice turns angrier, and bucky doesn’t think he can listen to you talk about this anymore. he turns towards the elevator after steve stays silent, probably knowing better than to argue with you.

“‘can’t do anything about this now, y/n. it’s only one mission,” is the last thing he hears steve say before bucky walks away, your words rattling around in his broken mind.

-

the jet is dead silent when he climbs inside, ten minutes early as usual, but you’re there already, wordlessly walking past him to replace one of the weapons you keep in your holster. bucky wants to tell you hello, even though he knows you will only respond with a dry stare his way before you give him a view of your turned shoulder as you do anything but acknowledge his presence. your overheard conversation with steve is still heavy on his brain, having scrutinized each letter of the words you’d said to try and make sense of them. even through the shattered, blurry mess of memories he had, the ones with you were bright and clear, as if taken on the best camera in the twenty-first century. he can remember the feel of your lips on his when you both got the guts to admit your feelings for each other, the way your lips had smiled through the kiss, your giddiness clear in the curve of your mouth, and the tender pull his jaw by your careful fingers. the sound of your flustered laugh still rings clear in his ears, the warmth of your forehead as you leant it against his own, shining eyes caught on his.

he can recall the storm of feelings he felt with the fanciest pen he owned in his hand, trembling over the clean paper while he tried to write the goodbye he would never be able to tell you in person. the words of the letter he can recite in his sleep: i love you, dollface. i love you so much that i can’t bear to tell you goodbye. i know that i’ll never leave if i have to stand in front of you and tell you that i have to, not when i know you’ll be there waiting for me. but i gotta do this, you know i do. i swear to you, doll, i’ll come back and take you out on the best damn date of your life. don’t be surprised if it ends with me on a knee and that ring i know you’ll like on your finger.

he knows you deserved a real goodbye, but he was selfish, and one look from you, and he would never go. still, how dare you say he left you without a goodbye when he poured everything he had into it?

he’s tempted to ask you right now, interrupt the cleaning of the gun in your hands, but the very real possibility of you shooting him cuts his thoughts short. nevertheless, he aches to hear your voice directed at him again, see your eyes on him, even if it’s in an argument.

even though the quinjet flies itself, you seat yourself in the pilot’s seat while bucky stays in the back, quiet. his eyes can’t help but drift to you every once in a while, just watching as you stare out the window, shoulders still tense like every time he’s in the same place as you. it makes him sadder than he had thought before, because he can still recall the times that they would relax every time he smiled at you, his touch calling for you to melt into him instead of stepping away from him.

after a second, he stands to recheck his weapons, even though he’s completely sure every one of them is in perfect shape. you stand, too, heading towards one of the doors when stark’s high-tech, no-turbulence quinjets experience a harsh bump. it knocks you—and nearly bucky— off your feet, sending you tumbling forward and straight into bucky’s chest. instinctively, his hands settle around your waist, holding you in place. it’s in the second that you allow him to touch you that he’s suddenly hit with exactly how much he’s missed being able to touch you— be near you. the scent of your perfume wafts pleasantly into his nose, and he memorizes it immediately, along with the warmth of your skin— which he notices remains the same— and the smell of the shampoo you use. you only allow him near you for a second before you push him off of you roughly, shooting him a dirty look.

“you’re welcome,” bucky grumbles bitterly, moving to sit back down. your head snaps back towards him.

“i didn’t say thank you,” you snap, “i didn’t even ask you to do that.”

“you don’t have to. it’s kind of the decent thing to do so you don’t crack your head open when you fall. it’s also the decent thing to thank me for not letting that happen.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, eyes thinning at him. he can practically see his words blowing up in his face. “don’t talk to me about decency.” you retort, “what the hell would you know?”

bucky steps towards you, “what is that supposed to mean?”

you scoff, “oh, please, as if you don’t know. don’t act stupid, bucky. as much as i don’t want to, i know you better than that.”

“i’m not— what the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“nothing,” you sneer, “just thought that being decent included saying goodbye before leaving to go to a fuckin’ war you didn’t even know you were gonna come out of.”

there’s an angry, confused silence that hangs in the air after you confess why you have been so dead-set on hating him after all this time. your chest is rising with heavy breaths, and bucky is confused, eyes searching for any semblance of a lie in your eyes, but he looks away when he finds none.

“are you serious?” he asks.

you send him a deadpan stare, “i don’t really feel up to joking around with you.”

bucky steps towards you, “i said— i said goodbye. maybe i didn’t do it in the best way, but i made sure i told you goodbye. i would never leave you like that, especially after…”

“you didn’t tell me anything. i only found out you left after your ma told me. do you know how ridiculous i looked? going to that house ready for our date, only for me to find out you left me before i thought you even could.”

“i sent you a letter. i explained everything, i swear,” bucky tells you, his hands on your arms gentle enough for you to slip away, and tight enough for you to know how serious his words were. “y/n, you gotta believe me. i would never— dammit, doll, how could you think i could leave you like that?”

“you did! that’s how i could think that! there was no letter, no warning—”

“you have arrived.”

you stop yourself, eyes glued to the floor as bucky drops his hands from your arms. “please, sweetheart, i swear i sent you that letter. i could recite it for you right now if you wanted it.” friday’s mechanical voice echoes through the speaker again, repeating the earlier statement. you shake your head gently as if trying to rid yourself of the distraction in front of you, but you allow yourself for a brief glance at bucky’s eyes, scanning his features for any indication of dishonesty. you pull away when you don’t find any, feeling more upset rather than relieved.

“let’s just do what we need to,” you say finally, exiting the jet. bucky follows you after a few seconds.

—

“we’ll split up. you take the right side of the base and i’ll take the left. we’ll find the drive a lot faster,” you instruct quietly, glued to the wall next to bucky as you check there aren’t any agents in the base.

“are you sure?” bucky questions, “the intel on this base wasn’t too clear. there could be agents in there.”

“i can handle myself. i’m sure you know.”

“y/n—” he begins fruitlessly, trailing off when you take his answer as confirmation and head into the base once you clear the entrance. sighing, he jogs up next to you, overly alert of his surroundings. there’s an air in the base that he recognizes too well; all hydra buildings have a certain disturbing feel to them that indicates all the pain that was forced upon hostages, the screams that echoed through the bloodied walls almost loud enough to travel through time and reach your ears. with this one, though, bucky can feel the device that was clamped to his head, ripping away every piece of bucky he had left. he shivers.

your eyes drift to him when you notice, eyebrows joining, “what’s wrong?” you ask him, tone all-business.

“i think i know this base. where are we again?”

you’re about to respond offhandedly when you pause, your movements freezing altogether. you gulp, an unwanted flash of recognition in your eyes as you turn to bucky. “um, siberia, russia. hydra siberian facility. this is the one you were…” you blink, forcing yourself to say it so he doesn’t have to. “this is the one you were held in, buck, i’m so sorry.”

it’s the first time he’s heard you say his name in a while. when he turns to you, he notices how tense you are, and he knows it’s not because of him, it’s because you can feel it too, now.

there’s a brief pause that follows. “i think you’re right. we should stay together,” you continue, “you never know.” your voice wavers, stepping a little closer to him as you continue walking through the facility.

-

there has been no sign of any other life besides than the two of you. you’ve cleared most of the rooms together since you refuse to leave his side. as much as you seem to hate him, there’s at least a small part of you that still cares more than he ever thought you would.

“another room.” bucky lets you know, leading you inside once he’s made sure it was clear. you begin to start rifling through the files at one end of the room, the sheer size of it making it seem like you were in two different ones. it’ll take a while to meet in the middle, he notes.

you pay little attention to him as you flick through names and papers, only really looking out for any indications that bucky isn’t okay. you’re on the third cabinet when you see the drive you’re looking for, clear and so badly hidden, it must hve been intentional. it’s shoved between thick folders and stray papers, making it easy for you to pull it out with a relieved sigh. you’re about to turn to bucky and let him know you can finally leave when a file with the name of the man in the room with you catches your eye.

even with the drive in your palm, clearly the one you need evident by the label on it, you can’t help the fingers that take the file out. the papers inside are worn and crumpled, the lack of care put into putting them away blatant with the folded corners and smudged words. handwriting on a ripped paper catches your eyes, the creases in the paper showing how much time it spent folded inside a pocket. air escapes you when you catch the date scribbled on the top right, the numbers slightly smudged, but there: december 14, 1941, the day bucky left for the army.

the events on the plane flood back to you as you read the letter. you can feel the lump in your throat growing more difficult to swallow with each read word telling you goodbye. as you stand straighter, opening the file more, something inside clatters to the floor, catching bucky’s attention. you distractedly pick it up, not really looking at it until you feel what it is in your hand— the compass you had gotten bucky years before he enlisted. your eyes finally fall from the letter to stare at it, running your fingers over the design on the edges and then on the little button to open it. your lips part when you discover the picture inside of you.

the weight of bucky’s stare on you is nonexistent as you run your fingers over your picture. you can remember the day it was taken—just a few months before bucky left— and the warmth that settled over your cheeks when bucky complimented you. you drag your vision away from it to read the rest of the letter, a glimmer of gold at the middle of the folder stopping you yet again.

you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips when you realize it’s a ring that is no doubt bucky’s. you’d seen his mother wearing it every day you knew her; except for the day you visited her— the day bucky left.

you mutter a curse when you realize what the letter means; what the compass with your picture in it and winnie’s wedding ring indicates. the promises bucky included in his letter were real, his love for you was real, and had hydra not held him hostage, his goodbye would’ve made its way to you, and so would bucky, with his wedding ring and lovesick eyes.

“what’s wrong?” bucky questions from the other side of the room, having observed your stunned silence for long enough. the gleaming tears that form in your eyes give him the push to walk over to you and the folder that you can’t stop staring at, the harsh grip your fingers have on it leaving indents on the paper. you don’t seem to care. “y/n?”

you can’t stop rereading the letter, taking in the words you had been repeating to yourself before you let the anger take you over. it’s like your forties self is screaming i told you so at your present self, furious at you for letting yourself think what she knew was wrong.

you let bucky take the papers from you without a word, the grip you have on the old ring that had resided on winnie’s finger for as long as you’d known her the only tie you have to the present. “fuck,” you say, roughly wiping away the tears that begin to streak down your face. bucky recognizes the letter immediately, brows furrowing when he realizes the goodbye he had written you never got to you, meaning that you were technically right— he had practically abandoned you after his dreams had come true because he was scared of exactly this. he hears you repeat the curse, eyes finally reaching up to meet his. “i’m so sorry, bucky,” you tell him, voice dripping in disappointed sincerity. “you were right. i knew you would never—” your face scrunches, fist tightening, “i know you would never leave me like that.”

the glint of bucky’s vibranium fingers catch on the shitty lights while he reads the same sentences he painstakingly clung together decades ago, desperate to make it perfect for you. he spots the compass dangling off its chain in between your clenched fingers, and from its absence in the file, bucky can assume you found the ring.

you catch his eye, looking down at your hand before quickly holding it out to him, carefully setting down the compass in his palm. your hand opens to show him the ring, “oh,” he croaks, shaking his head disorientedly when you extend it closer to him, urging him to take it back. “no, no, keep it. it’s for you anyways.”

pained eyes look back up at him before your fingers close over the jewelry, storing it safely in the chest pocket of your suit. he holds your stare for as long as he can, desperate in his search of the ocean in your eyes for something you weren’t even sure of.

“um,” you sniffle, blinking away your tears and effectively cutting off the eye contact as you look to the ground. “i got the drive. we can leave now.” bucky mumbles an affirmation, blinking at you when you regain your composure, straightening up with a wipe of your cheeks and a clear of your throat, “you set up the bombs, right?”

bucky nods, clearly muddled, “yeah… all ready to be activated.”

“let’s go then,” you say, avoiding his eye while you start to walk out of the room. he doesn’t think you think he noticed that the papers in the folder are gone, the only thing left is the compass in his hold.

-

you ignore him the whole flight, but the items from the base weigh heavy in your pockets, screeching at you to take them out and analyze them again for reassurance that the man you’d sworn heartlessly abandoned you like one of the flings you’d seen him leave had actually done the opposite. the ring that meant so much to his mother and the words he’d recited in his letter were proof of that, evidence that you were wrong and had hated him for no reason.

it was difficult to process how awful you had been to him, disregarding his presence and his concerned words. you could recall the day you arrived, when he had greeted you with a bone-breaking hug that you had returned until the memory of what he had done to you settled in. the grief you’d suffered for him had torn deeper at your heart, and torn you away from him.

he had been angry with you, too, after realizing why you were standing in the same room as him, the exact same as the last day he’d seen you, just like him. you couldn’t blame him now; you were reckless to a point of danger due to the anguish that had ripped you apart so desperately, you felt there was no more of you to keep safe. the loss of not only the man you’d loved wholly for your whole life but of both of the best friends you’d protected and been protected by, shattering you to the point of giving yourself to howard stark as a guinea pig for his time travel ideas.

you allow yourself one look at him after not being able to help yourself, startled to find his attention already on you, the compass open and cradled in his hand like a precious stone.

you turn away and don’t look back at him again.

-

silence is all you can give when you arrive at the compound, heading straight into your room and putting off a shower, instead tugging out the yellowed letter with a delicate desperacy you weren’t sure you still had. the itch of your suit goes unnoticed by you as you slide against the wall, letting yourself sink to the floor, distracted by the letter clenched in your hand, eyes scanning the words you had been reciting to yourself the entire way back.

i love you he repeats at least three times, and you aren’t sure if the dry splatters of water are yours or his. i’ll marry you when i come back, he promises twice, and you can nearly hear the words in his own voice from the forties, so hopeful and so sure, so unaware that he would never come back to that time. goodbye, he writes at the end, for now like a prayer.

you can’t feel the tears as they drench your face. you can only feel the lack of air as you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut and hugging the paper to your chest as gently as you can, careful to not damage it any further. the ring is digging so hard into your palm, you’re sure when you open your hand again, you’ll be met with small dots of blood.

it’s why you don’t notice when bucky opens your door to the image of you, the very same one he would’ve seen the day the man knocked at your door, full of empty apologies as he delivered two condolence letters to you instead of your boys. it’s instinct to him when he rushes over to you, gathering you up into his arms as he repeats it’s okay, even if he doesn’t know what it even is.

your arms drape over his neck without hesitation, face nudging its way into the familiar crook of his neck, trying to control your shuddering breaths. “i’m sorry,” you keep saying, fisting the shirt that smells like your detergent. he assures you it’s okay, the letter in your hands, stained with tears and guilt, letting him know what’s wrong.

you whimper about how much of an ass you’ve been, how you should’ve known better after knowing him so much better, how you should’ve let him explain before pushing him to assume any love you had for him was gone when the complete opposite was the truth. you confess how much you missed him even though you felt betrayed, the overwhelming amount of love you still hold for him.

he responds by brushing away wet strands of hair from your damp eyelashes and comforting pressed kisses against the salty skin of your cheeks— just because you’re letting him and he’s wanted to do that ever since you met him, ever since you kissed him the day before he left for the war, when fireworks exploded in his brain and he was sure you had to be soulmates even if they didn’t exist in your world.

he understands, you realize, and he doesn’t blame you at all.

it settles in once you’ve both calmed down, when your head is on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, the letter he wrote you neatly folded on your dresser. “i missed you,” you tell him, smiling softly when you feel his lips against your forehead.

“i missed you, too,” he murmurs, “more than you know.” his fingers are intertwined with yours, and you let yourself appreciate how much he seems to like touching you. “‘think i owe you a date, though.”

did i maybe cry a little bit… yes. everyone deserves a bucky.

As I Lay Awake | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This is yet another fic inspired by my sister and her husband and their stupidly perfect, adorable relationship. 🙄

If you like what you read, throw me a reblog so that others can find my stuff 🥰

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

Bucky’s arms snaked around you, lifting you from the couch despite your spirited protests, and he laughed at your feeble struggle against his super soldier strength. Why you fought him about going to bed every night was beyond his comprehension. Your job was draining- early mornings, late nights, mountains of work, and endless meetings sunk you into what seemed like a permanent state of exhaustion- both mental and physical.

And yet, you never wanted to go to sleep. All he wanted was for his best girl to get the rest she needed. His heart ached as he watch you resist sleep each night, knowing deep down that the exhaustion was crushing you.

“Baby, come on, you know you’re tired…” Bucky set you down on your side of the bed, watching you fight the exhaustion that weighed your eyelids down. With a labored groan, you sat up, quirking an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

“It’s only like, eleven. I’m not tired, Buck. Come on, let’s go watch a few more episodes of Supernatural”. You tried to escape from the bed, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

He rolled his eyes at your resistance to rest as his hands rested on your shoulders, gently laying you back down. “Why do you do this, sweets? You fight me about going to bed every night”, his cold hand found your cheek, resting gently against your warm skin. “You get up so early and work such long hours- you need your sleep. Why won’t you just let yourself rest?” He was right, and you hated it. In all honesty, you were tired- exhausted, actually.

You didn’t want to admit the truth, but when he stared you down with those icy blue eyes, your resolve crumbled. “It’s just that…I- I work a lot, Buck. And so when I’m home, I wanna stay up as late as I can so that I can spend time with you- as much time as possible”. Your words warmed Bucky’s heart and broke it at the same time. He loved spending time with you; If he could, he’d spend every second with you for the rest of his life- but he didn’t want you sacrificing the rest you so desperately needed.

“Sweetheart…God, you’re adorable. But you can’t do that to yourself- you need your rest. If I were refusing to sleep just so that I could spend time with you, would you be okay with that?” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, staring down at you with a faux frown. He couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatic huff that accompanied your quiet “no”.

With a victorious chuckle, Bucky got you settled in bed and took his spot next to you, wrapping his body protectively around yours like he did every night. The two of you laid together in the dark stillness of your bedroom, relishing in the warmth of one another. With your head resting on Bucky’s chest, resisting sleep became impossible. The steady sound of his heartbeat and the cozy embrace of his arms sent you drifting off into dreamland in no time at all. Bucky listened to your steady breathing, happy to know that his best girl was finally getting some sleep.

But he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about you. He knew he’d be leaving for a mission in just two days, meaning that you’d be left to your own devices. He could see you staying up till all hours of the night without him there to make you go to sleep. He resolved to have a talk with you about it the following evening when you returned from work and surrendered to sleep himself, wrapping his arms around you just a bit tighter as he drifted off.

But his plans to talk to you were dashed by an emergency call from Rhodey at 10 am. Things had grown dicey at the Hydra base they’d been planning to infiltrate and they needed to get there as soon as possible. Bucky shoved clothes into his duffel bag and hopped on his motorcycle, stopping by your office on his way to the compound.

The screeching tires of Bucky’s bike drew the attention of everyone in your building. His frantic form rushed through the doors in search of you, scanning the offices and coming up empty. He was in a massive hurry, and knew he had to get to the compound ASAP, but he had to say goodbye. He only allotted himself five minutes to see you, and if he couldn’t find you in time, he’d have to leave without saying goodbye- and that was not acceptable. Anxiety pushed him onward, desperately searching the building for you as quickly as he could.

The sweet sound of your voice set his mind at ease. He flew to you, pulling you into his arms without paying any mind to your staring coworkers. You tried to ask what he was doing running around your office like a madman, but he cut you off.

“I don’t have a lot of time- I have to leave. Rhodes just called” he took your face in his hands, memorizing each feature just in case he never made it home. “Things went sideways- we’re leaving right now”.

The information sent your mind spinning, leaving you feeling like the rug had been ripped out from under you. The 48 hours that you thought you had left with Bucky were stolen from you just like that, leaving you heartbroken.

“I just needed to come say goodbye” he crushed your lips with his, pouring every ounce of his love into the embrace. “I love you. I love you so much, doll. Take care of yourself while I’m gone- I’m gonna try my best to keep you updated, okay?”

You nodded. Tears welled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, leaving mascara-tinged tracks on your skin. Your coworkers looked on, but you couldn’t have cared less- Bucky was leaving, and that’s all that mattered.

“I- okay. I love you, Buck. Be careful. Please”. You leaned into him, deeply inhaling his warm scent, “I need you to come home- I need you here with me”.

He squeezed you as tight as he could without snapping your spine, promising not to take any unnecessary risks. “Promise me that you’ll actually sleep while I’m gone, okay?” He breathed a sigh of relief when you nodded against his chest, and felt a tiny fraction of his anxiety recede.

With one last deep kiss, Bucky was gone. He left you standing in the hallway, teary-eyed and brokenhearted. He was off on yet another dangerous mission, and you had to somehow focus on the rest of your workday.

All Bucky asked of you was that you take care of yourself and get some rest while he was away, but it proved easier said than done. Without Bucky at home waiting for you to return from work, it grew easier to stay at the office later and later. The building fell quiet around you as your coworkers trickled out one by one, going home for an evening of rest and relaxation- but you remained.

It spawned into an unhealthy habit that kept you at work until past nine every night. There was nothing to look forward to upon your return home, only your dark, empty apartment- void of your favorite person. Only when you thought you were going to die of starvation did you head home to make a quick dinner and shower.

You found yourself on the couch each night, wrapped in Bucky’s favorite blanket and sitting alone in front of the tv. If you could focus on a show or a movie, you could avoid falling asleep just a little bit longer. Only when it became physically impossible to stay awake did you let the exhaustion win, falling asleep on the couch instead of the bed you shared with Bucky. Your phone always rested on your chest as you slept, just in case Bucky got a spare moment to send you a text- but your phone remained silent.

It was disheartening to wake each morning without a message from Bucky, but part of you was glad. If you woke up to a text from him, it would mean that you’d missed the opportunity to talk to him, and that was worse than sleep deprivation. Getting in touch with him while he was on a mission was damn near impossible, and if you weren’t able to respond to him in a timely manner, it might be days before he was able to contact you again.

Fatigue plagued your body, leaving you feeling empty and half-dead. Never in your life had you experienced such aggressive exhaustion. A dull ache lived in your head constantly and a thick fog wrapped around your brain, making everything fuzzy. A few coworkers pulled you aside in the breakroom on the fifth day of Bucky’s absence, asking if you were okay. They told you how concerned they were about you, noting the dark circles under your eyes, long hours at the office, and your alarming lack of energy.

The desperate need to stay awake in case Bucky called, paired with the intense worry about his safety swirled into a perfect storm of sleepless nights. Your coworkers could never understand what you were going through, and explaining it was emotional labor that you didn’t have the strength for.

On your thirteenth late night without Bucky, you sat awake in the living room while endless episodes of iZombie played without your attention. Worries about Bucky’s safety plagued you, sending sharp pangs of anxiety through your chest. Your fingers itched to text him, but contacting him while he was on a mission always made you nervous- what if your text was the sound that gave away his location and got him killed? But the pact you’d made with yourself to refrain from contacting him crumbled at your feet as you shot Bucky a quick text.

“Please come home safe. I love you. I miss you so much.”

On the fourteenth day since Bucky’s departure, your phone rang. A quick apology to your coworkers excused you from your meeting, giving you the opportunity to answer Bucky’s call.

“Bucky?” you breathed into the phone, praying that everything was okay. He recognized the worry in your voice and set your anxiety at ease, telling you that he was on his way home.

“Baby, why did I get a text from you at 3:26am?” his expectant tone signaled trouble for you. A sharp cringe twisted your features- shit, you hadn’t thought about the timestamp.

“Relax, Buck. I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and missed you. That’s all”. His silence unnerved you. He knew you were lying and wasn’t happy about it, but told himself to save that conversation for later.

As soon as you possibly could, you ditched your office. Bucky said he’d be home by 8, and you weren’t going to miss out on even a second with him. When you arrived home at 7:49, you sped around the apartment, cleaning and tidying the space for Bucky’s homecoming. The sound of his keys in the door sent your heart leaping into your throat.

“Bucky!” was all you could say as you sped toward the door and launched your body into his waiting arms.

“Sweetheart…” he whispered against your hair, nuzzling his face into your neck with desperation. A comforting warmth bloomed in Bucky’s chest, spreading through his body as he held you close.

“I missed you…”

“I missed you more, Buck”.

He pulled away from your embrace, taking your face in his hands and drinking you in. A frown tugged his features downward as he looked you over, your tired eyes breaking his heart. “Did you get any sleep while I was gone?”

Technically, the answer was yes. You did, in fact, sleep every night that Bucky was gone, just not enough. “Yes, I slept. I promise”, but he wasn’t buying it.

He scooped you up and carried you to the couch, flopping down against the cushions with a sigh. “Alright, this is serious. I need you to talk to me, baby”, he swept a thumb over your cheek, waiting for you to open up- but you didn’t.

“I wasn’t even here, doll,” he let out an exasperated sigh, “You said you don’t like to go to sleep because you want to spend time with me, but I was gone- you could’ve gone to sleep the second you got home from work. I just- I need you to tell me what’s going on”.

Your lips found his neck, sucking at his pulse and sending goosebumps over his skin. His head fell back in ecstasy as you worked slowly over the length of his neck, driving him crazy- until he stopped you.

“Hey, no- come on. You can’t distract me, sweets,” he gently removed your lips from his neck, “talk to me”. With a dramatic sigh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. The truth was embarrassing, and maybe even pathetic.

“When you’re here, I don’t want to waste a second of my time with you, so I don’t want to sleep,” he nodded, “but when you’re gone, I miss you. I um, I stay at work late so that I don’t have to be here in our home without you, and then I stay awake on the couch as late as physically possible. I don’t like being in our bed without you. So I just- I sit out here, waiting to hear from you. I- I don’t want to risk missing a text or a call- even though I know they’re rare...”

Bucky sighed. His hands stroked up and down the length of your spine, bringing you some much needed comfort. “Baby, that’s- that’s very sweet. I mean, it’s good to know that you miss me so much…” he joked, “but you can’t do that to yourself”.

An apathetic shrug raised your shoulders. As far as you were concerned, you’d stay awake until the end of time- no matter how miserable you were- if it meant you got to spend time with Bucky.

“Hey, come on, I need you to listen to me”, he lifted your head from his shoulder and stared into your eyes with a fierce intensity. “When I didn’t want to go to sleep because of my nightmares, you begged me to. All you kept saying was how important sleep is- how if you don’t get enough you could actually die. It’s just not healthy, doll.”

“But I wanna spend time with you…” your voice cracked ever so slightly, betraying just how desperate you were for him, “I miss you. I miss you all the time. And if I have to give up some sleep in order to be with you, I’m fine with that”.

Bucky’s expression grew stern. His brow furrowed and his jaw tensed as he let your words wash over him. “But I’m not”, he argued, “If you don’t sleep, you can have memory issues; it fucks up your judgement and coordination- baby, it’s dangerous. And if you wreck your car or something because you refuse to sleep and I lose you, I’ll- I can’t lose you. You wanna spend time with me, but you can’t do that if you aren’t here…”

Very real anxiety colored Bucky’s voice. His arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer, forcing your body against his with an unmatched desperation.

“I just need you to take care of yourself, sweetheart. Can you please do that? For me?”

You promised without hesitation. You’d never thought about how your bad habit would affect him, and mentally chastised yourself for making him worry. “I’m sorry, Buck. I love you…”

“I love you, too, baby. That’s why I need you to take care of yourself- so I can keep you around for as long as possible”. You snuggled into him, taking in his warm scent and listening to his heartbeat. The weight of his absence fell from your shoulders as the two of you sat there, fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Okay, it’s 8:39 right now. I need a shower and something to eat, but then it's time for bed- for both of us. Deal?” Bucky stared down at you with a stern gaze, only breaking his domineering façade when you agreed to go to sleep.

He got cleaned up from his mission while you changed into pajamas and made a quick dinner for the two of you to share. When the food was decimated and the dishes clean, Bucky carried your fatigued body to bed.

For the first time, you didn’t fight him- you didn’t protest or argue. You allowed him to wrap you snug under the blankets with the utmost care in the way he’d always wanted to. The two of you settled into bed, tangling your limbs together and relishing in the feeling of being reunited.

With your head on Bucky’s chest and his arms wrapped tight around your back, you allowed the strong grasp of sleep to drag you under. Just as you were about to surrender completely, your head lifted from Bucky’s chest. He tried to protest your sudden jolt of energy, but stopped when he heard what you had to say.

“Thank you for taking care of me…I love you, Buck. I’m so glad you’re home”. He leaned upward and met your lips with his in the darkness of your room, whispering an “I love you” right back.

You settled your head back in its rightful place atop Bucky’s chest, placing a light kiss to the scar that fused flesh to metal. With the love of your life home safe, you finally let yourself get the rest you so desperately needed, dreaming of him all night long.

——————————————-

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STRANGER THINGS PORN LINKS

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warning: these are twitter links that contain porn !!

navigation | masterlist

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Ships with height differences. Reblog if you agree

just steve doing a little strip tease for his guy ❤️

stop this is like the cutest thing i’ve ever read

first name basis

in which only you can call bucky by his first name

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope ur all well <33 thank u to this request for this v fluffy fic <333 hope u guys enjoy ! sorry for any typos :P

It was quiet, the soft pattering of raindrops on the window and the city ambiance filled the Brooklyn apartment. It was somewhat empty, but Bucky had said it was just because he had just moved in. You knew he was lying.

The two of you were sat up with your backs against his headboard, scrolling through channels to find something to watch. He had an arm around you, holding you close to him. You were leaning into him, your head lightly resting on his chest.

“there’s never anything good on anymore” bucky grumbled and you smiled.

“you sound like an old man” you chuckled, taking the controller from his hand and flipping through channels, finally settling on some nature documentary about lions.

“i am 106, you know that right?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes, elbowing him lightly and causing him to groan dramatically. His antics made you elbow him even harder, laughing as he pouted at you.

“oh boohoo” you teased him, sticking your tongue out. Bucky gasped, eyes widening at your actions.

“i cant believe you” he frowned, smiling as he tackled you and caused you to fall over, he pinned your hands above your head, looking at you with soft eyes. “you’re gonna pay y/n” he smiled, peppering kisses all over your face before finally gently placing his lips onto yours.

It was a soft and tender kiss, nothing but pure love and sweetness. The kind that you smile into and blush while your lips are still connected, the kind bucky always wanted.

As the two of you pulled away he wasted no time in pulling you to his side, leaning against his headboard and letting your head rest comfortably on his chest. It was quiet, neither of you speaking and just focusing on the lions on tv, occasionally making comments about how cute the cubs were.

“your middle name is actually Buchanan?” You blurted out, causing bucky to jump a bit. He looked at you confused before nodding his head.

“yeah it is, why?” He smiled at your question as you thought silently.

“dunno, it’s just, Buchanan” you giggled and bucky blushed.

“are you making fun of my middle name?” He asked, trying his best to hold back the smile on his face and you shook your head quickly.

“no! i mean, a little bit i guess” you laughed and bucky smiled brightly at you, loving the sound of your laughter.

“i can’t believe you” bucky frowned and you pouted, moving up to kiss his jawline.

“oh angel, you know your middle name doesn’t change a thing between us” he smiled at your words, loving the way you so easily caved. “tell me your full name” you smiled at him, “wanna hear you say it” you giggled and he rolled his eyes before sighing.

“James Buchanan Barnes” he spoke, his voice smooth as he stared at you, a smile on his face when you hummed.

“James” you spoke, the name rolling off your tongue like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. Buckys heart raced, his face flushed and his stomach was in knots. “you know that’s a lot better than buchanan” you teased, craning your neck a bit to look at bucky.

“say it again” he whispered, his heartbeat in his ears as you looked at him confused.

“that your middle name is ridiculous?” you smiled and he shook his head.

“no doll, my name” his voice was soft, just above a whisper.

“James” you repeated the name, smiling at the bashful smile on his face and the way his face flushed as you spoke his name.

“‘t sounds nice when you say it” he mumbled, his face was hot and you scrambled to sit up, cupping his face with one hand and kissing his lips before speaking up.

“well, how about we toss bucky out the window and i call you james, yeah?” You suggested and he nodded, smiling at you before crashing his lips onto yours.

Bucky didn’t know what it was about it. Maybe it’s because you were the only person since steve to make him feel like himself and not like an ex assassin. Maybe it’s because you helped remind of who he was, not the winter soldier but James Barnes. Maybe it was the way you said his name and it sounded as sweet and smooth as honey. Bucky didn’t know and he didn’t really care much, he just knew he only wanted you to call him that.

“hey guys!” You smiled as you and bucky walked into the compound hand in hand, giving the team a small wave before you and bucky headed into the kitchen.

There was some big game on tonight and the team was having a watch party, everyone gathered into the living room excited as they watched some pregame stuff. You and bucky were working in the kitchen, you had offered to make dinner so you wouldn’t have to pay an absurd amount for some takeout.

The sound of the tv was quieter and you and bucky were quick to take out all the ingredients needed from the kitchen, placing them on the counter. Bucky loved helping you cook so the two of you moved easily together in the kitchen.

Sam and steve walked into the kitchen, smiling as they saw you cooking, the smell of the food in the air.

“you guys need any help?” Sam asked, looking at how easily you and bucky handed things off to each other.

“could you help set the table up? the forks and spoons are over there” you smiled and Sam nodded, grabbing the stack and handing the forks to steve. “James can you pass me some of the salt please?” You asked, not thinking twice, bucky handed it to you with no hesitation.

Steve and Sam were grounded in their spots, shock on their faces as they processed your words.

“did- did you just call him James?” Steve asked, brows furrowed at you. You smiled at him and chuckled, completely confused as to why it was such a big deal.

“yeah, why? I do it all the time” you shrugged your shoulders, bucky had a bashful grin on his face, grabbing some cups and shoving his friends away and towards the table. Steve and Sam looked at bucky as he set some cups down on the table with them.

“so they can call you James but when i do it i get a knife two inches from my face?” Sam spoke crossing his arms across his chest and frowning at his friend. Bucky rolled his eyes, ignoring him and going to get more cups.

“can you tell everyone the foods ready?” You asked bucky, grabbing the plates and placing three filled with food into his arms. He smiled, kissing your temple before heading to the dining room.

“foods ready!” He called out, you could hear the team cheering as they all sat down around the table, excited to eat.

“james can you come get these please!” You called out, everyone whipping their head around to you.

“wh- James? You call him James?” Rhodey scoffed and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“well yeah that’s his name isn’t it” you laughed and he nodded quickly.

“i called you that one time and you threatened me” Rhodey spoke and bucky blushed, taking the plates from you quickly and rushing to give everyone food so they would stop talking.

“glad to know I’m not alone” Sam laughed, looked at Rhodey, natasha nodded.

“he told me to not call him that” steve frowned and you felt your face heating up.

You were the only one that called him James. You could feel your heart fluttering as you locked eyes with bucky, smile on your face when he walked over to you to get the plates for you and him.

“didn’t know you were so protective over your name buchanan” you teased and he rolled his eyes, the rest of the team already eating and talking amongst themselves after you told them to hurry and eat before the game started.

Bucky smiled and snaked his arms around your waist, leaning down and kissing you softly, the two of you smiling into the kiss before pulling away.

“only like it when you say it doll” he whispered and you blushed, heart skipping a beat as he kissed your forehead and let go of you, carrying the two plates in his hands and leaving you in the kitchen. You but your lip and smiled, following him quickly and eating with the rest of the team.

While steve and Sam cleaned the table up and tony and peppered filled the dishwasher you cuddled up with bucky on the couch, eyes closing when he ran his fingers through your hair.

“i love you” bucky mumbled and you smiled, “love you so much y/n y/l/n” he spoke, kissing the top of your head.

“and i love you so much james bucky barnes” you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before cuddling back into his chest, eyes fluttering shut.

His stomach fluttered and his heart skipped a beat. Sure it had been thousands of time that you had spoken his name, calling him james in any and every tone. But everytime he found himself blushing and smiley, he found himself wanting to hear you say it again, and again and again.

Maybe it was because you helped ground him. Or maybe it was because you helped him become himself again.

As bucky looked at your breathing peacefully on his chest, drifting to sleep despite the the cheers from the rest of the team he realized why he loved hearing you say his name.

It brought him back home. And home was here, with you.

It was with you and his family as they watched a game together, huddled together and squished into three sofas.

language!