Hey! I'm Bella! ✧ Search 'Masterlist' ✧ Last Masterlist update July 21, 2021 ✧ When I Respond To Stuff It Will Be From "isabelle-faith" ✧ I Write For Marvel, Supernatural, And Others ✧ REQUESTS ARE OPEN
“Baby,” Steve gently shakes your shoulder, smiling when you try to pull the covers tighter around you, “Baby wake up, it’s important.”
You groan and sit up, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Steve is standing on your side of the bed looking down on you with a soft smile and playful eyes. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand, you groan.
12:00 AM
You can’t help but glare at him for waking you up in the middle of the night but any frustration you have disappears in a second. He hands you a small box with a hand tied bow on it.
“Happy birthday sweetheart.”
You take the gift, breathing out a small, “Oh Stevie.”
Slowly, you untie the bow and unwrap the box. You reveal 2 rings, both beautiful aged gold. One is much larger than the other and you glance up at Steve as he stumbles through his explanation.
“I know that we both decided marriage wasn’t for us— at least not now— but I wanted something to give to you that means something. So it’s promise rings, they match obviously.” Steve takes a shuddering breath and continues, “Bucky helped me track down some of our old things, family heirlooms and stuff, and we found some rings. And I thought that they were beautiful and after some digging we found out that they were promise rings then too. I want you to know that even without marriage, I’m still here with you, and I’m here to keep you safe, and—”
He keeps rambling until you gently press your lips to his and you can feel him smile against you. Steve gently cradles your cheek and pulls away resting his forehead against yours. He reaches for the rings next to you, fishing for your hand before sliding it onto your finger. He does the same with his own and when his hands rest against your cheek again, you can feel the cool metal against your skin.
The Bad Boy Act (Teenage!Bucky Barnes x Teenage!Reader)
WARNINGS: TEENAGE RECKLESSNESS, KISSING, TALK OF KINDA STRICT PARENTING
“Open the fucking window.”
Bucky is hanging onto the sill by his fingertips and his hair is sticking to his forehead by the rain he had to climb through to even get to your window. But he still has that ridiculous grin on his face. The one that can only mean trouble for you. Flinging open the latch you barely have time to move out of the way of a soaking wet boy lands on your floor with a thud.
“Can you be any louder?” You hiss, glaring at Bucky, who’s still smiling. “My parents are still home.”
“Can’t help the fact your window’s small as fuck.”
You roll your eyes at his swearing, walking to your dresser and pulling out an old t-shirt of his that he left at your house one other late night. But you can’t help but flush when he strips off his denim jacket and soaked through t-shirt.
“C’mon baby, really?” He teases you, holding the dry shirt out to his side and leaving his chest distractingly bare. “Do I make you nervous?”
Rolling your eyes you fold your arms in front of you. “No. What makes me nervous is that if my parents walked in right now we’d both be dead. And you left your wet clothes on my carpet.”
Bucky tugs the shirt over his head, smoothing it down his front, “Dad still not a fan?”
“Of the cute, new, bad-boy who took a liking to his daughter and got caught sneaking in her window? Yeah, I’d have to say he’s not.”
“Well he’s missing out.” Bucky reaches an arm around your hips and pulls you flush to his chest. “I’m wonderful.”
Ducking his head down low, he pulls you into one of his mind-blowing kisses. The type that makes you forget your own name and address. One of his hands is holding your hip and the other is tangled in the hair at the back of your head. When you let out a small whine you can feel him smile against your lips, pulling back and nipping at them before falling onto your bed.
“You always make the cutest noises when I kiss you.”
You fall down next to him, loving the way Bucky’s arm immediately wraps around you and pulls you close to him. You hum and tuck yourself into the space under his arm, resting your head on his chest.
“And you’re always the cutest boy when you drop your bad boy act.”
“Only for you baby,” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only for you.”
WARNINGS: ANGST, IMPLIED DEATH OF BOTH CHARACTERS, NO INJURIES ARE DESCRIBED BUT ITS PRETTY EASY TO FIGURE OUT
She’s always loved holding Steve’s hands. They are always so warm and just the brush of his hand against hers can calm her racing heart. So as she lies with him now, side by side, she reaches for him. Locking her fingers with his and giving them a squeeze.
Steve smiles. Having you near him makes all of his bad days better and all of his good days great. God, even just seeing you smile at him from across the room fills his heart with so much love that he’s shocked it hasn’t burst yet.
“What do you wanna do this weekend?” Her voice is light and breathy, and Steve thinks it’s beautiful.
Steve pauses a moment to think, “How about the museum? We haven’t been in ages. We can even go to that cafe across the street too.”
That was where they had their first date. Slowly wandering around the museum, not caring too much about the exhibits but absolutely adoring each other. Later, they curled up in a booth together sipping warm drinks and talking about their dreams until the sun set. The colors slowly lulled the both of you into a happy, comfortable silence.
“Yeah,” She hums her agreement, “That sounds great. I heard there’s a new exhibit. Some art stuff. Right up your alley.”
She takes a deep, heaving breath and when she lets it out she tries to cough but ends up making some sort of sick gurgling sound. Steve squeezes her hand, trying to let her know that he is still right there. Still with her. When her body finally settles, her grip on Steve’s hand is just a little weaker.
“Steve,” She begins, voice weak, “I’m so scared.”
He smiles at the ceiling. Neither of you have looked at each other this whole time. And you’re not planning on it.
“Remember when we were apartment hunting? And we found that beautiful old place?” He sighs, “It was so perfect. I dreamed that night that it was going to be our home.”
She nods and gives a sad smile, “It was perfect. Even had that extra bedroom. And the view Stevie,” Her chest heaves for a second, “The view was perfect. The sun setting. I could watch that every day and never get sick of it.”
Even now, laying together in the dingy room, the sunset is there. It washes the walls with deep oranges and soft pinks. And it’s just so cinematic that she knows that if this was a movie, Steve would just go on and on about color theory and symbolism. How the sun setting always shows the main characters that something is ending. And she’d love it, hang on every word as he rambles. But this isn’t a movie.
Steve’s grip is slowly loosening from her hand. He’s trying so hard to stay connected to her, but he’s just so tired now. She’s trying to cough again but this time, her breaths are shallow. Far too shallow. Steve is trying not to panic. There’s no reason to. There’s nothing either of you can do about this anyways.
“I hope you know how much I love you.” His voice is so quiet you almost miss it. “God, we should’ve had the wedding as soon as you said yes. There’s nothing I wanted more than to see you in a wedding dress.”
She can’t catch her breath very well anymore but she tries so hard to say “I love you too Steve.”
His vision is swimming now, bright shapes and colors blur the ceiling before that black edge he was so afraid of begins to close in. He’s holding your hand as tight as he can, praying that she knows that he’s with her until the end.
Steve squeezes his eyes closed tight, not wanting to watch the world fade around him. “I think we’re going to be okay.”
It’s not going to be okay. They’re dying. But they’re dying together. That’s a privilege that so many would kill for. To have some company. Whether a friend, a fiancé, hell even a stranger. Both of them are so, so scared, but the weight of each other’s hand is grounding. Dying isn’t comfortable. But my god, they’re trying their best to make it that way.
“Yeah,” Her voice is barely a mumble as her eyes finally close, “Yeah we are.”
Bucky has the most capable hands you’ve ever seen. Rough and dexterous, you’re pretty sure he can do anything. He works on cars and motorcycles, does the handiwork around your small apartment, he even fixed the neighbors broken wall after a moving mishap. And he loves working with his hands. Anything tactile, anything that requires power and thought and effort, he’s there for—no matter how tedious.
And you love it. Watching him work is beautiful in an odd way. Most often, it’s on your shared clunker of a car. Obviously, living in an apartment means there’s no garage. So usually you can find the both of you parked on the side of the street, the old cars hood popped open with Bucky leaning over the engine. You’re usually with him too, unless he sends you inside because he thinks it’s just far too hot or cold for you to be with him. You’ll sit on the curb or on the headlights and just watch him work. His hands always just look so sure of what they’re doing. There’s almost never any hesitation or timidity in his movements. It’s amazing.
He knows about your preoccupation with his hands. He’ll glance up at you and find you captivated, grinning that crooked smile of his. He teases you, but of course it’s all with love.
“Whatcha staring at baby?”
“See something you like?”
Each of his quips make you grin like a teen with their first crush, blushing because you got caught.
But there’s one thing Bucky’s hands can’t do.
Peel an orange.
It’s ridiculous, you both know it. But every time Bucky reaches for an orange, it’s mayhem. Juice gets everywhere, the slices get crushed, the peel ends up in pieces. It’s chaos. And honestly? You love the thing he can’t do almost more than the things he can.
You love watching him root around the kitchen for breakfast or a late night snack, giving up and landing in the fruit bowl you two committed to keeping stocked. He pokes around the apples, bananas, fingers gliding over them gently before he lands on an orange. Every single time he’ll toss it up as high as the ceilings will allow and catch it, grinning to himself every time he succeeds. And every time he’ll wander to you, whether you’re lounging on the couch or working at your desk, hell, he’s even gently woken you up.
He always looks so shy when he does, giving you the same smile that he did when he met you for the first time. Bucky will awkwardly extend his hand and offer you the orange with a small, “Please?”. And each and every time you’ll take it, carefully peeling it, tearing away the bitter strings. Bucky will stand there and smile at you, nothing but adoration in his eyes. And when you’re done you’ll offer it back to him, perfect slices.
And the look he gives you when he takes it from you? Priceless. He’ll lean down and press a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you, baby.” Before going off to finish his day.
It’s selfish, you should be teaching him. Showing him how to be careful, how to tear the bitter parts away and only leave the juicy, sweet fruit behind. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. The small intimacy of the interaction it’s too precious. From the hunger, to the offering, to the thanks, it’s just too valuable for you to lose.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
notes: this was a request from @iminlovewithmycarrrr from a while ago! just a reminder there’s both an open request list and an open tag list! it’s going to take me a while to get them out, but eventually i will write them! thank you for patience! This is based off of my own experiences of adhd and what i personally deal with, so if it’s not a universal thing i apologize.
You groan into your hands while an almost blank document stares at you from the computer screen in front of you. You barely notice the door opening until heavy hands land on your shoulders and Bucky’s soothing voice rings through your ears.
“I know baby.” Bucky rubs your shoulders, thumbs digging into the knots in your shoulders. “Why don’t you take a break, hm?”
He speaks gently, like he’s trying to placate a child. And as much as you want to hate it, to tell him not to patronize you, it’s comforting. You’ve been sitting at a desk for hours trying to write a mission briefing. And despite all of your effort, you just can’t get it done. Everything proving to be too much for you, too distracting.
You’ve done everything to try and be able to settle down enough to write. Turning on the fan for the noise, turning off the fan because of the noise. Opened and closed the windows dozens of times trying to get the perfect temperature. Hell, you’ve even changed outfits because the feeling of the fabric touching your skin was just too much. None of it’s worked.
When Bucky finally came back into your office after he worked out he found you, slumped over at your desk, head in your hands. He immediately knew what was wrong. It killed him that he couldn’t understand what you were going through. He tries so hard to empathize but he knows that there’s only so much he can do.
“Bucky I swear Fury is going to kill me if I don’t get this done tonight.” You sound miserable and it pulls at his heart strings. You try so hard and Bucky recognizes that, but he knows that others like Fury often overlook your effort.
Bucky sighs. If he could, he would make it all better. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head and revels in the way you lean back into him.
“Working yourself like this isn’t gonna help you baby. You know that.”
You bristle and shrug Bucky’s hands off of your shoulders. “Stopping’s not an option, Buck. I need to get it done.” Your voice quiets, “What kind of superhero can’t even write a briefing Bucky?”
Bucky sighs again, before pulling your chair out from your desk despite your protests. “You’re a great superhero, baby.” He pulls you from the chair and into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I guarantee most of us wouldn’t be able to sit still and write all of that if we hadn’t been trained for it. You think that I’d be able to without the serum? Think Steve would?”
You look up at him miserably. You know he’s right but that doesn’t make it any better. “Bucky I’m so sick of this.”
He presses you even tighter into him and softly kisses the top of your head. “I know babydoll. How bout this,” He pulls away from you and holds you at arms length. “Take a break, go for a run with me or Steve, and then we can go ahead and talk to Fury about getting you set up with some help, hm? Sound good?”
You rub your hands over your face and shake your head. “He’s gonna put me on leave, Buck. He’s not gonna want someone like me on the team if I can’t write a stupid report.”
“You’re gonna have all of us backing you up baby. You’re vital to the team. And even if you have to take a leave, maybe it’ll give us time to figure out how to help you, yeah? God, we know that the team has plenty of doctors on deck. We can work with them and get everything figured out.” Bucky pauses and says quietly, “You deserve it baby. You don’t have to struggle.”
You look up at him again, taking in the kindness in his eyes and your lip trembles. You’ve spent years waiting for someone who treats you this gently, especially when it comes to your struggles and Bucky exceeds every single dream you’ve had. You throw yourself into Bucky and bury your face into his chest.
“I love you so much Bucky.” Your words are muffled but Bucky doesn’t care. He holds you even tighter than before and buried his face in your hair, breathing deeply.
Bucky has the most capable hands you’ve ever seen. Rough and dexterous, you’re pretty sure he can do anything. He works on cars and motorcycles, does the handiwork around your small apartment, he even fixed the neighbors broken wall after a moving mishap. And he loves working with his hands. Anything tactile, anything that requires power and thought and effort, he’s there for—no matter how tedious.
And you love it. Watching him work is beautiful in an odd way. Most often, it’s on your shared clunker of a car. Obviously, living in an apartment means there’s no garage. So usually you can find the both of you parked on the side of the street, the old cars hood popped open with Bucky leaning over the engine. You’re usually with him too, unless he sends you inside because he thinks it’s just far too hot or cold for you to be with him. You’ll sit on the curb or on the headlights and just watch him work. His hands always just look so sure of what they’re doing. There’s almost never any hesitation or timidity in his movements. It’s amazing.
He knows about your preoccupation with his hands. He’ll glance up at you and find you captivated, grinning that crooked smile of his. He teases you, but of course it’s all with love.
“Whatcha staring at baby?”
“See something you like?”
Each of his quips make you grin like a teen with their first crush, blushing because you got caught.
But there’s one thing Bucky’s hands can’t do.
Peel an orange.
It’s ridiculous, you both know it. But every time Bucky reaches for an orange, it’s mayhem. Juice gets everywhere, the slices get crushed, the peel ends up in pieces. It’s chaos. And honestly? You love the thing he can’t do almost more than the things he can.
You love watching him root around the kitchen for breakfast or a late night snack, giving up and landing in the fruit bowl you two committed to keeping stocked. He pokes around the apples, bananas, fingers gliding over them gently before he lands on an orange. Every single time he’ll toss it up as high as the ceilings will allow and catch it, grinning to himself every time he succeeds. And every time he’ll wander to you, whether you’re lounging on the couch or working at your desk, hell, he’s even gently woken you up.
He always looks so shy when he does, giving you the same smile that he did when he met you for the first time. Bucky will awkwardly extend his hand and offer you the orange with a small, “Please?”. And each and every time you’ll take it, carefully peeling it, tearing away the bitter strings. Bucky will stand there and smile at you, nothing but adoration in his eyes. And when you’re done you’ll offer it back to him, perfect slices.
And the look he gives you when he takes it from you? Priceless. He’ll lean down and press a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you, baby.” Before going off to finish his day.
It’s selfish, you should be teaching him. Showing him how to be careful, how to tear the bitter parts away and only leave the juicy, sweet fruit behind. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. The small intimacy of the interaction it’s too precious. From the hunger, to the offering, to the thanks, it’s just too valuable for you to lose.
WARNINGS: ANGST, IMPLIED DEATH OF BOTH CHARACTERS, NO INJURIES ARE DESCRIBED BUT ITS PRETTY EASY TO FIGURE OUT
She’s always loved holding Steve’s hands. They are always so warm and just the brush of his hand against hers can calm her racing heart. So as she lies with him now, side by side, she reaches for him. Locking her fingers with his and giving them a squeeze.
Steve smiles. Having you near him makes all of his bad days better and all of his good days great. God, even just seeing you smile at him from across the room fills his heart with so much love that he’s shocked it hasn’t burst yet.
“What do you wanna do this weekend?” Her voice is light and breathy, and Steve thinks it’s beautiful.
Steve pauses a moment to think, “How about the museum? We haven’t been in ages. We can even go to that cafe across the street too.”
That was where they had their first date. Slowly wandering around the museum, not caring too much about the exhibits but absolutely adoring each other. Later, they curled up in a booth together sipping warm drinks and talking about their dreams until the sun set. The colors slowly lulled the both of you into a happy, comfortable silence.
“Yeah,” She hums her agreement, “That sounds great. I heard there’s a new exhibit. Some art stuff. Right up your alley.”
She takes a deep, heaving breath and when she lets it out she tries to cough but ends up making some sort of sick gurgling sound. Steve squeezes her hand, trying to let her know that he is still right there. Still with her. When her body finally settles, her grip on Steve’s hand is just a little weaker.
“Steve,” She begins, voice weak, “I’m so scared.”
He smiles at the ceiling. Neither of you have looked at each other this whole time. And you’re not planning on it.
“Remember when we were apartment hunting? And we found that beautiful old place?” He sighs, “It was so perfect. I dreamed that night that it was going to be our home.”
She nods and gives a sad smile, “It was perfect. Even had that extra bedroom. And the view Stevie,” Her chest heaves for a second, “The view was perfect. The sun setting. I could watch that every day and never get sick of it.”
Even now, laying together in the dingy room, the sunset is there. It washes the walls with deep oranges and soft pinks. And it’s just so cinematic that she knows that if this was a movie, Steve would just go on and on about color theory and symbolism. How the sun setting always shows the main characters that something is ending. And she’d love it, hang on every word as he rambles. But this isn’t a movie.
Steve’s grip is slowly loosening from her hand. He’s trying so hard to stay connected to her, but he’s just so tired now. She’s trying to cough again but this time, her breaths are shallow. Far too shallow. Steve is trying not to panic. There’s no reason to. There’s nothing either of you can do about this anyways.
“I hope you know how much I love you.” His voice is so quiet you almost miss it. “God, we should’ve had the wedding as soon as you said yes. There’s nothing I wanted more than to see you in a wedding dress.”
She can’t catch her breath very well anymore but she tries so hard to say “I love you too Steve.”
His vision is swimming now, bright shapes and colors blur the ceiling before that black edge he was so afraid of begins to close in. He’s holding your hand as tight as he can, praying that she knows that he’s with her until the end.
Steve squeezes his eyes closed tight, not wanting to watch the world fade around him. “I think we’re going to be okay.”
It’s not going to be okay. They’re dying. But they’re dying together. That’s a privilege that so many would kill for. To have some company. Whether a friend, a fiancé, hell even a stranger. Both of them are so, so scared, but the weight of each other’s hand is grounding. Dying isn’t comfortable. But my god, they’re trying their best to make it that way.
“Yeah,” Her voice is barely a mumble as her eyes finally close, “Yeah we are.”
The Bad Boy Act (Teenage!Bucky Barnes x Teenage!Reader)
WARNINGS: TEENAGE RECKLESSNESS, KISSING, TALK OF KINDA STRICT PARENTING
“Open the fucking window.”
Bucky is hanging onto the sill by his fingertips and his hair is sticking to his forehead by the rain he had to climb through to even get to your window. But he still has that ridiculous grin on his face. The one that can only mean trouble for you. Flinging open the latch you barely have time to move out of the way of a soaking wet boy lands on your floor with a thud.
“Can you be any louder?” You hiss, glaring at Bucky, who’s still smiling. “My parents are still home.”
“Can’t help the fact your window’s small as fuck.”
You roll your eyes at his swearing, walking to your dresser and pulling out an old t-shirt of his that he left at your house one other late night. But you can’t help but flush when he strips off his denim jacket and soaked through t-shirt.
“C’mon baby, really?” He teases you, holding the dry shirt out to his side and leaving his chest distractingly bare. “Do I make you nervous?”
Rolling your eyes you fold your arms in front of you. “No. What makes me nervous is that if my parents walked in right now we’d both be dead. And you left your wet clothes on my carpet.”
Bucky tugs the shirt over his head, smoothing it down his front, “Dad still not a fan?”
“Of the cute, new, bad-boy who took a liking to his daughter and got caught sneaking in her window? Yeah, I’d have to say he’s not.”
“Well he’s missing out.” Bucky reaches an arm around your hips and pulls you flush to his chest. “I’m wonderful.”
Ducking his head down low, he pulls you into one of his mind-blowing kisses. The type that makes you forget your own name and address. One of his hands is holding your hip and the other is tangled in the hair at the back of your head. When you let out a small whine you can feel him smile against your lips, pulling back and nipping at them before falling onto your bed.
“You always make the cutest noises when I kiss you.”
You fall down next to him, loving the way Bucky’s arm immediately wraps around you and pulls you close to him. You hum and tuck yourself into the space under his arm, resting your head on his chest.
“And you’re always the cutest boy when you drop your bad boy act.”
“Only for you baby,” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Only for you.”
gummygunk
areudirty
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
jbbartram-illu
andulkaphoto
izzy806