Burdened with Glorious Fangirling

G | 21 personal blog @gracerecs

[billionairebratenergy]

Masterlists: Tony Stark | Bucky Barnes | Loki Laufeyson | Logan Howlet

My Recs 📚

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[gracerecs]

peter parker fic recs

✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | ✪ g's star reads | 🔞 smut below the cut

@luveline

✧.* not known or seen ✪ Things between you and Peter change with the seasons.

@filmjules

SPIDER-BOY ✧.* where peter parker’s best friend starts calling him by a silly nickname, not knowing how true it is. aka peter has a hopeless crush on his best friend who has a small habit of drawing on his hands and arms. who also may have a crush on spiderman.

@thollandsgirl2013

✧.* Suit Up, Buttercup You blackmail Peter into letting you try on his Spider-Man suit. It fits too well, leading to making out—and Tony walking in.

@ptergwen

✧.* out of sight, on his mind warnings: making out, suggestiveness, drinking, like one swear

@loverangels

✧.* webbed in desire Peter really likes your Spiderman pajama pants

@anon-188

✧.*sweet stuff business is slow, you’re losing hope. so peter does what any reasonable guy would do—sends spider-man on a bakery rescue mission.

@shortnspidey

✧.* SLIM PICKINS Safe to say your love life was nonexistent. You’d tried everything, swiping through dating apps like it was your part-time job, smiling at strangers on the subway, even letting friends set you up with guys. Still, nothing. Just awkward dates, ghosted messages, and a lingering sense that love might just be a myth. But maybe, just maybe, the problem wasn’t you. Turns out, slim pickins didn’t apply when the best option was right under your nose.

@gossameres

˚꩜｡ spin the lie peter parker’s never kissed anyone, and pretending to do it in a closet was just to spare him the humiliation. teaching him the basics? innocent enough. until he starts learning how to touch, how to beg, and how to make you forget it was ever pretend (completed)

@wokeupinmars

⚠︎ Remedy Peter believes you stood him up for his work event, but his hurt feelings subside when he gets home and finds you sick.

@waitimcomingtoo

✧.* Built A Fire Just To Keep Me Warm you and Peter are in the same friend group but never got along. That doesn’t keep him from making sure you never get cold

@yasministration

✧.* want you to stay peter is absolutely appalled when he sees you beginning to leave the party when his frat brother yells "if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, get out!"

@thceseus

✧.* he does melt! seeing if he melts into a kiss' trend with your best friend, Peter Parker.

@mcrdvcks

✧.* a holly jolly christmas Peter has been on his own for a while now, but he notices you, his neighbor, hanging up lights by yourself. ✧.* it's brutal out here Peter's class is going on a field trip to Stark Industries. The catch? No one believes he's an intern at SI and no one knows he's dating Tony Stark's daughter—other than Ned and MJ. Surely nothing will go wrong, right?

@ironinc

🔞 Distracted You decided to take a break from your day and play a online game with your friends, but before you can even start, it's impossible to concentrate when your boyfriend, Peter Parker, is being so distracting. He offers to let you sit on his lap while you play, not realizing his intentions aren't nearly as innocent as he pretends they are.

@boxofbonesfic

🔞 Play Pretend You play dumb to get help from some nerd in your Stats class, but end up biting off more than you can chew. 

@thollandsgirl2013

🔞 Love Stained You surprise Peter with kisses to test your new lipstick, leaving him covered in maroon marks. 🔞 His Favorite Breakfast Peter wakes up horny and needy in the morning and he takes you on the kitchen counter. 🔞 No Nut November Challenge It's November, Peter and Ned decided to join no nut November, it's a disaster for Peter.

@yasministration

🔞 am i doing this right? could i request summer, smut with peter. and the prompt “am i doing this right”

@alsofoundinpeas

🔞 A Little Tied Up When Spider-Man offers a surprisingly unconventional alternative to an ice pack, you find yourself agreeing, only to discover there's more to his touch than just superhuman strength.

@uhhhj13iguess

🔞 what you asked for teasing peter parker while he's patrollingggggg 🔞 the stages of us peter parker starts an internship at oscorp, matched into a robotics team led by you — you, who has peter believing in love at first sight. and despite every instinct in his body, peter can't help but fall further and more helplessly in love with you... even if you happen to have a boyfriend. 🔞 isn't that crazy? reader storms into peter's apartment, upset over her last tinder date being a complete tool and refusing to eat her out. peter gets a little... distracted 🔞 a little too good "i don't know what kind of losers you've been with, but i'm not about to get off to some middle school level action, okay?" 🔞 under your spell peter 'friendly neighborhood spider-man' parker drooling at the sight of you when picking you up for the stark gala, and though he tries, peter is just unable to behave himself when you look that good 🔞 friends helping friends sex pollen with peter parker x fem!reader

@iridescentparkers

🔞 lessons in sexting warnings: very suggestive! (18+) 🔞 lessons in sexting warnings: very suggestive! (18+)

@mcrdvcks

🔞 swear it's just right for ya At first it just seems like a normal New York heatwave, but the longer it lasts the more you realize that it might be a different kind of heat.

[billionairebratenergy]

reblog in honor of brand new day ! 🕷️🕸️

[gracerecs]

john walker fic recs

✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | ✪ g's star reads | 18+ below the cut

@flowersforbucky

✧.* practice "Was that your first kiss since your divorce?" ⚠︎ under my skin what first begins as a series of bad luck shows you a different side of the man who normally drives you crazy.

@vividxpages

⚠︎ Not without you ✪ after a dangerous mission that threatened John’s life and ends with both of you in the hospital, your boyfriend and you have to learn how to heal together.

@dearwalker

⚠︎ Are we out of the woods yet? You and John Walker are nothing more than two idiots who can’t stand each other. But when a mission goes wrong and you fall through cracking ice, he does everything in his power to keep you alive.

@frankels

🔞 MRS. WALKER (FOR THE MISSION, RIGHT?) You and John drift from wary colleagues to quiet companions over a string of late night conversations, cooking lessons, and training sessions—just two insomniacs finding fragile peace in the loneliness of the night. Eventually, you’re assigned an undercover “married” surveillance job in a sleepy coastal town and you both slip into domestic rhythms: still half-asleep breakfasts, markets, porch dinners, stakeouts, until under the dim lights of a club while tracking down your target, you and John finally let down your walls.

@flowersforbucky

🔞 mine | @flowersforbucky the three times that john walker calls you his. 🔞 charades | @flowersforbucky john walker is the last person you expected to have a sex dream about - and it’s just your luck that his bedroom is right next to yours.

@dearwalker

🔞 Have you ever tried this one? John had been away on a long mission. A month of nothing but his fist and filthy thoughts of you, edging himself to save it all for you. Every last drop. So when he catches you singing some dirty song about needing it deep? You get exactly what you asked for. 🔞 Just a minute? John Walker loves to run that big mouth of his, always mocking your stamina in the field. But when you get him under you, turns out he doesn’t last that long either. 🔞 pumpkin lights “you look so pretty like this.”

@bratty-in-boots

🔞 Breeding You don’t think he meant to start anything.

@swordgrace

🔞 it's a bad idea, right? john walker with the prompt “we shouldn't... ah, we shouldn't be doing this” ? 🔞 just something about you, baby “cuffing john to the bed and doing whatever you want with him after nagging him for weeks about it.....”

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[gracerecs]

bucky barnes fic recs

✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | ✪ g's star reads | 18+ below the cut

@marvelstoriesepic

✧.* Creamy or Crunchy? Bucky joins you grocery shopping to everyone’s surprise. ✧. Weakenss ✪ You use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass. ✧. Change your mind ✪ Natasha drags you to an NYU baseball game. And despite yourself, one player catches your attention. ⚠︎ One Inch Deeper ✪ You can’t stand to watch him get hurt. He can’t stand to watch you risk your life for him. In the end, both of you are right - and both of you are bleeding for it. Like he means it ✪ You can’t take another night of hearing Bucky fuck a girl who isn’t you. ⚠︎ Powdered Sugar Your friend group is having a night out at the local carnival. Bucky is his charming self and you are tired of pretending it doesn’t affect you. ⚠︎ A Thousand Times Before Bucky travels to an alternate universe for the sake of a mission. But he doesn’t expect to come face to face with a version of you that loves him, completely and openly. Back in his own world, he is left with a truth he can’t keep to himself anymore. ⚠︎ Mad for You You are a simple maid who cleans the mansion of the Bucky Barnes, always staying in the background. But when one of his men sees you as a target for assault, and manipulates you into taking the blame for something you didn’t do, you are pushed directly into Bucky’s focus. ⚠︎ One Inch Deeper You can’t stand to watch him get hurt. He can’t stand to watch you risk your life for him. In the end, both of you are right - and both of you are bleeding for it. ⚠︎ Halfway to Saying it You agree to a date with another guy to forget about the boy you’ve loved forever, only to acknowledge that your heart keeps finding its way back to him. ⚠︎ Rulebook and the Rebel You are always careful. Always in control. But one slip is all that it takes for one of your girls to vanish into the woods. And someone won't let you forget it. ⚠︎ Downtime ✪ After a hilariously avoidable gym accident, you try to hide the fact that even Avengers get hurt off-duty. But unfortunately for you, Bucky isn’t easily fooled.

@aquaticmercy

✧. Jackass ✪ Everyone is horrified that Bucky is flirting with a married woman, but then they realize there's a reason why. ✧. Patron of Saint Nightmares ✪ Bucky needs to go on a mission, so he asks the rest of the team to take care of his girl. ✧. More to Love ✪ Bucky marries you, someone who shows love through food. When his body changes, you show him he’s cared for no matter what. ✧. Smitten Sam finally meets Bucky’s girlfriend, though you’re not who he thinks you are. ✧. Patron of Saint Nightmares ✪ Bucky needs to go on a mission, so he asks the rest of the team to take care of his girl. ✧. Breathe Bucky tries to quit smoking for your sake. ✧. Lipstick Stains You leave lipstick marks on Bucky’s face. ✧. Time after time Your son has a nightmare, and it reminds Bucky of his own bad dreams. ⚠︎ Small Circles Bucky Barnes is still getting used to modern dating… and hates that you have to work with your exes. ⚠︎ Walls You never ask for help, even when your boyfriend wants to help you. ✧. Trust Fund, Baby! ✪ Bucky Barnes’s secret girlfriend has a secret of her own. ✧. Loose Ends Your husband, Bucky Barnes, finally meets your multiversal best friend, Wade Wilson. ✧. Interstate Love Song Bucky tells the team he saw his Hydra days in The Void. You are the only one who knows him well enough to know he is lying.

@flowersforbucky

✧. let it happen ✪ "So that's all it takes, then? I kiss you one time and you get all possessive over me?" ✧. all we know of heaven, all we need of hell you fell in love with the man who trained you in the red room. he helped you escape - and made you promise to never look back. years later, when an old friend asks for your help, you find yourself working with a group of anti-heroes. including him. ✧. starry eyed reader gets a special gift from her secret santa

@marvelwitchergilmore

✧. Dog Tags | @marvelwitchergilmore ✪ Bucky is looking for his Dog Tags, and you just so happen to have them. ✧. State of Denial | @marvelwitchergilmore When Bucky gets sick, you take care of him.

@ilovolderman

✧. Friday Night ✪ You end up sitting next to Bucky in a casual team dinner. ✧. The Match While secretly dating You, Bucky gets roped into a dating app by Sam. ✧. You Said What? ✪ You accidentally call Bucky babe during a mission briefing in front of the whole team.

@mcrdvcks

✧. he was chaos, he was revelry ✪ Bucky tells you to go out and have a day at the mall and get whatever you want. When you only buy a $20 Squishmallow, he has to intervene. ✧. my angel of life ✪ Bucky tries to get your daughter to say 'mama' for the first time. ✧. electric touch You technically aren't a member of the New Avengers, but you live at the Watchtower and help the team out during missions. The most interesting part? Bucky seems to have a crush on you, the quiet, brooding, mysterious woman. ✧. sweet nothin' You're a simple Brooklyn florist when Bucky Barnes enters your shop and changes your life forever.

@orellazalonia

✧. Soft Shopping Spree | @orellazalonia ✪ Bucky notices you never spend his money or let yourself want anything, so he plans a full day of spoiling you determined to show you what you deserve. ⚠︎ Darling of the Devil | @orellazalonia You accompany Bucky Barnes to a high-stakes party, where your presence turns heads, raises questions, and quietly shifts power dynamics just by existing at his side ⚠︎ His to Guard | @orellazalonia After hiding your pregnancy from your husband for a while, Bucky, fiercely territorial and quietly devoted, turns every moment into proof that you and the baby are his entire world.

@imtaashu

✧. your name, my dog tags  ✪ It starts with a missing hoodie. Then a vanishing water bottle. Then your name shows up on Bucky’s dog tags. Everyone else sees what’s happening except you two. Until Bucky finally decides... maybe it’s time to make it official. ✧. Not Without Me During a mission briefing, you’re paired with someone else on the team. Bucky doesn’t take it well. Protective, stubborn, and just a little insecure, he insists it should be him at your side because if anything goes wrong, he won’t trust anyone else to keep you safe.

@ama3003

✧. Everything's Just Perfect You're Bucky's ex-wife and you always seem to be there whenever he needs you.

@starktonyx

✧. Alone in this shitty world After Yelena’s sudden outburst, the group scatters around the streets of New York. And, as if this wasn’t already the weirdest day of your life, you find yourself reaching to comfort the last person you ever thought you'd feel sorry for, John Walker. And Bucky is as confused as you are.

@munsonify

✧. drunk call when you’re in need of a safe way home from the bar, the first person you think of in your drunken haze is bucky, who comes to get you in an instant

@brnesblogposts

✧.* His sweet girl bucky taking care of his best girl! (drabble)

@cosmicbucky

✧.* wallpaper bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

@pellucid-constellations

✧.* Hold My Girl Bucky comes home from a mission and needs time to hold his girl. ⚠︎ If We Talked After overhearing some choice words between Bucky and his best friend, you make the difficult decision to avoid him. For a week. Bucky loses his mind in the process.

@eclipsedechoesofmywords

✧. Of All Things ✪ When Bucky gets a new haircut, you find yourself struggling to keep your composure—and your thoughts—under control.

@magical-reid

✧.* Yours, Whether You Know it or Not You’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right?

@byhuenii

⚠︎ From the Start ✪ They were best friends. She loved him quietly — from the start. But timing was never on her side. Now, between unspoken words, missed chances, and a love that lingers too long, she learns what it means to let go without ever truly doing so. ⚠︎ All American-Bitch She’s the Avengers’ perfect little Barbie: glowing, charming, untouchable. The media loves her. The tabloids fetishize her. And she smiles, nods, and answers dumb questions like a pro… She takes it all. And then she punches lockers, screams into towels, and rants in the quiet—safe only because Bucky is there to watch, listen, and maybe even join in.

@buckybabble

⚠︎ The Void Bucky Barnes rescues you from the Void after you are sucked into your worst traumas.

@daxisyzz

⚠︎ Only safe with you Bucky Barnes finds himself the sole anchor for a traumatized Y/n after being kidnapped and psychologically tortured by Hydra.

@fru1t4fr0gs

⚠︎ You Drive Me Crazy The Thunderbolts are used to you and Bucky’s harmless teasing and bickering, but in all of the time the two of you have been together they’ve never seen you fight. However, when an argument breaks out after a mission, they realize that your relationship is a lot more passionate (and entertaining) than they previously thought.

@solaceinruin

⚠︎ THE RING A fight leaves you and Bucky cold, silent, and avoiding each other. But nightmares don't care about pride.

@daddyjackfrost

⚠︎ Oh, my love, side to side After a successful yet traumatizing mission, you dream of losing Bucky for the first time in years. In a fit of panic, you call him. He answers. Not the phone, but the call your heart makes to his.

@salem-s

⚠︎ NO ROSTER, JUST YOU you've been friends-with-benefits with bucky barnes for what feels like forever. it's fine. great, even. but when you slowly notice he's open to being with other people, you pull away before he has the chance to let you down easy. besides, you're too busy to waste your time thinking about him, ego too high to let him beat you to breaking it off. yet suddenly, when you take your foot off the gas, he notices. astronomically so.

@mrs-elsie-barnes

✧.* 5 Times You Are Not Dating Bucky Barnes (and the one time you are) You're sick of saying it, Bucky is not your boyfriend, you are not dating you're just friends. Until...

@buckytakethewheel

✧.* move your feet with mine An attempt to maintain a professional façade at the History department Christmas party collapses when your (lover) professor, James Barnes asks you to dance.

@daystarpoet

✧.* after hours Your husband works incredibly hard, often times staying way past reasonable hours. Instead of returning home after your shift, you decide to join him in his office and remind him he is not alone. ✧.* a soldiers solace Bucky has kept his marriage secret for three years now. He always intended to keep it that way. That was until a mission went sideways, and he found himself having to resort to the one person he swore to protect.

@cheriecoke

✧.* GIRLS NIGHT OUT you go out for a girls night with yelena and ava, drink more than you can handle, and remember how much love you have in your life.

@metal-armed-muse

✧.* drunk on you ✪ You are drunk from alcohol and he’s drunk on you (you drink for the first time, and your boyfriend is there for you at every turn)

@cheekybarnes

⚠︎ blood upon the snow You’re bleeding out alone in the snow and your brain does the only mercy it has left: runs every version of Bucky Barnes you’ve ever known in hopes that the real one makes it in time.

@superbassbuck

⚠︎ table for two one. One arranged marriage, one homemade dinner, two cold plates... and a husband who showed up three hours late, drunk, and heartless.

@brnssldr

✧.* SNICKERDOODLES you bake bucky his favorite cookies even though you're allergic to the cinnamon in them. when he finds out, he's not letting it slide.

@navybrat817

✧.* Don't Look or Touch Bucky isn't having a good day and John suffers the consequences.

@fireinmoonshot

⚠︎ drawing the line Bucky Barnes has messed up big time ... he just doesn't know it until he sees you and realises he really should've checked his texts.

@alisonwritesimagines

⚠︎ Don't Blame Me Bucky accidentally reverts back to the Winter Soldier when you get hurt in a mission.

@wildflowersandvibranium

✧.* Plums and Pancakes A quiet life wasn’t something Bucky Barnes ever imagined for himself , not after everything he’d endured. But then a blur of flying fruit and a love he never saw coming changed everything.

@buckysleftbicep

⚠︎ who did this to you? bucky notices the bruises before you ever say a word. as the truth unravels, he steps in—not just to protect you, he makes sure you're never hurt again.

@fawniswriting

🔞 the quiet side of thunder When a visit to his office leaves you shaken, Bucky is determined to take care of you.

@barnes-babydoll

🔞 You're the Glue After a mission goes horribly wrong, the team ends up stewing in their own anger on the car ride home. You try to lighten the mood, but instead it makes everyone angrier. When you're down, Bucky’s there to comfort you.

@aquaticmercy

🔞 Don't Touch the Tech Girl Sam told Bucky that you, his new tech engineer, was off-limits. But that just makes Bucky want you more.

@daddyjackfrost

🔞 Wanna Be Yours Bucky’s been in love with you for longer than he’ll admit. But when a moment of clarity after a misunderstanding on his part cracks the tension between you wide open, he finally gets to show you just how much.

@shortnspidey

🔞 Juno Everyone’s drawn to you, it’s part of what makes you so special, and one of the first things Bucky fell in love with. He admires the way you light up every room, the way people naturally gravitate toward you. But it also means he's constantly sharing you with the world. So one weekend, he decides to take you away from it all, just you, him, and the time he's been craving.

@buckysleftbicep

🔞 in too deep you told bucky it was your ovulation week and he took that as a challenge. you really, really, should’ve kept your mouth shut.

@marvelwitchergilmore

🔞 Knowing you Bucky knows you better than you know yourself. So, what happened when he starts to notice something is wrong?

@flowersforbucky

🔞 acquainted  (undercover stripper!reader x undercover bodyguard!bucky) 🔞 down bad couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born. 🔞 love language snapshots of your relationship with bucky told through the five love languages. 🔞 cowboys and angels {kinktober prompt: thigh riding}

@cheekybarnes

🔞 half-light You and Bucky have been together long enough to know each other inside out, but one night in the shower you end up using your safeword for the first time.

@crybabycabin

🔞 touch and go he's the Winter Soldier, and you're just you. but when your skin touches his, he becomes bucky barnes again.

@phoenix-in-writing

🔞 Respect the Cold Bucky Barnes always taught you to respect the cold. But now, stranded together after a mission gone wrong, you learn exactly what happens when you don't heed his warnings.

@brunchable

🔞 Rough day, baby? You get pampered by Bucky after a long stressful day, He takes care of your every need, just so you can unwind.

@blowingbarnes

🔞 Substance F52.8 How many times has Steve told you not to touch weird shit in old labs?

@superbassbuck

🔞 two tickets to iron maiden You're the picture-perfect popular pretty girl—all style, smiles, and social status. Bucky is the typical campus dirtbag—loud music, attitude, and bad decisions. You can't stand him, and he fucking hates your guts. That is, until one house party changes everything.

@rosesaints

🔞 most wanted man you’re living at the watchtower, allegedly saving the world, definitely dodging yelena's increasingly nosy questions about your whereabouts, your skincare glow, and why bucky keeps “accidentally” leaving behind shirts in your shared apartment. she hasn’t cracked it yet, but she’s circling—muttering in russian, offering suspiciously specific threats, and watching you like you’re the main character in a rom-com that she didn’t agree to binge.

@murdock-slvt

🔞 NO BRAINER! you hate being patronized. you hate feeling dumb, and you especially hate it when a man does it… but when bucky does it balls deep inside you? you can’t help but love it… and bucky loves to suit your needs.

@thewintermuse

🔞 try it on for me Feral!Bucky Barnes x Reader

@planetbucky

🔞 VIBE CHECK your best friend has been in love with you since you were kids. he makes sure you don't skip meals, shows up at your dorm during late-night study sessions, scowls at campus idiots trying to get your attention... and apparently now he even offers to fuck you to give your brain a break.

@mcrdvcks

🔞 never made a sound As Congressman Barnes' personal assistant, it's not entirely professional that he likes playing with you, especially in front of donors and fellow colleagues. prompt: remote controlled vibrator

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[gracerecs]

joaquin torres fic recs

✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | ✪ g's star reads | 18+ below the cut

@marvelwitchergilmore

✧.* Where it Hurts You won't let anyone else in your hospital room, with the exception of Joaquin.

@flowersforbucky

✧.* means I care ✪ "You were dead, Joaquín. Your heart wasn't beating when I pulled you from that water.

@codenamefalcon

⚠︎ PICTURE THIS The 4 times Joaquin knew he could treat you better and the 1 time you were ready to let him.

@fireinmoonshot

✧.* touchy Joaquin has a thing where he always likes to have a hand on you whenever you're together – holding your waist, holding your hand, a hand resting on your thigh. You finally decide to confront him about why. ✧.* plus one You help Joaquín get ready for a gala that he and Sam are attending – though because of the 'no plus ones' rule, Joaquín would rather stay with you instead... and he intends to convince you to let him. ✧.* soft hearted You're not the type of person to go clubbing – but Joaquin is pretty good at convincing you to come along with him when he goes. Yet, when an interaction with another man at the club goes badly, Joaquin is there to pick up the pieces and make sure you're okay.

@myladybelle

✧.* everywhere, everything being long-distance best friends with joaquín isn’t easy now that you’re on different teams. the more you talk, tease, and lean on each other, the clearer it becomes that friendship might not be enough for you anymore.

@peterparkive

✧.* hover you just want to enjoy one good night out with your friends, your boyfriend, and some dangerously good cocktails—but some guys never learned to take a hint. luckily for you, joaquin’s never been shy when it comes to reminding everyone that you’re completely and utterly spoken for

@websterss

⚠︎ AT THE END OF THE DAY The reader is his girlfriend. He is always overprotective of you. One day, you're in great danger, and he has to save you with his falcon title rn. After saving you, he holds you the entire time.

@petertingle-yipyip

✧.* MISS POSSESSIVE So what if you were a little possessive? No one got hurt.

@of-apollo

✧.* ORBIT You loved solitude, so, naturally, you end up with one of the clingiest boyfriends to ever walk the Earth. You wouldn’t change him for the world.

@geminiwritten

🔞 friends don't it was only ever supposed to be casual. convenient. roommates with benefits—two rules: no kissing, no falling in love. but when joaquín returns from a week-long mission and his mother comes to stay, tensions rise, jealousy snaps, boundaries blur, and breaking those rules becomes inevitable. 🔞 en español after joaquín returns from a two-week-long mission things feel different, then he convinces you to go undercover with him where tensions rise—only for him to leaving you wanting more... until he stops by your office for a very intimate spanish lesson 🔞 happy birthday joaquín forgets your birthday while he's away on a mission, so he flies home to beg for your forgiveness (friends to lovers)

@sortagaysortahigh

🔞 Jealousy, Jealousy It was as if every single thing you did irritated Joaquin Torres, you didn't even have to say anything to him, your presence alone was enough to tick him off. Don't get him started on your relationship with Peter Parker either.

@luvemmdubb

🔞 never late is better Joaquín is late for your anniversary dinner.

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[gracerecs]

peter parker fic recs

✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | ✪ g's star reads | 🔞 smut below the cut

@luveline

✧.* not known or seen ✪ Things between you and Peter change with the seasons.

@filmjules

SPIDER-BOY ✧.* where peter parker’s best friend starts calling him by a silly nickname, not knowing how true it is. aka peter has a hopeless crush on his best friend who has a small habit of drawing on his hands and arms. who also may have a crush on spiderman.

@thollandsgirl2013

✧.* Suit Up, Buttercup You blackmail Peter into letting you try on his Spider-Man suit. It fits too well, leading to making out—and Tony walking in.

@ptergwen

✧.* out of sight, on his mind warnings: making out, suggestiveness, drinking, like one swear

@loverangels

✧.* webbed in desire Peter really likes your Spiderman pajama pants

@anon-188

✧.*sweet stuff business is slow, you’re losing hope. so peter does what any reasonable guy would do—sends spider-man on a bakery rescue mission.

@shortnspidey

✧.* SLIM PICKINS Safe to say your love life was nonexistent. You’d tried everything, swiping through dating apps like it was your part-time job, smiling at strangers on the subway, even letting friends set you up with guys. Still, nothing. Just awkward dates, ghosted messages, and a lingering sense that love might just be a myth. But maybe, just maybe, the problem wasn’t you. Turns out, slim pickins didn’t apply when the best option was right under your nose.

@gossameres

˚꩜｡ spin the lie peter parker’s never kissed anyone, and pretending to do it in a closet was just to spare him the humiliation. teaching him the basics? innocent enough. until he starts learning how to touch, how to beg, and how to make you forget it was ever pretend (completed)

@wokeupinmars

⚠︎ Remedy Peter believes you stood him up for his work event, but his hurt feelings subside when he gets home and finds you sick.

@waitimcomingtoo

✧.* Built A Fire Just To Keep Me Warm you and Peter are in the same friend group but never got along. That doesn’t keep him from making sure you never get cold

@yasministration

✧.* want you to stay peter is absolutely appalled when he sees you beginning to leave the party when his frat brother yells "if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, get out!"

@thceseus

✧.* he does melt! seeing if he melts into a kiss' trend with your best friend, Peter Parker.

@mcrdvcks

✧.* a holly jolly christmas Peter has been on his own for a while now, but he notices you, his neighbor, hanging up lights by yourself. ✧.* it's brutal out here Peter's class is going on a field trip to Stark Industries. The catch? No one believes he's an intern at SI and no one knows he's dating Tony Stark's daughter—other than Ned and MJ. Surely nothing will go wrong, right?

@ironinc

🔞 Distracted You decided to take a break from your day and play a online game with your friends, but before you can even start, it's impossible to concentrate when your boyfriend, Peter Parker, is being so distracting. He offers to let you sit on his lap while you play, not realizing his intentions aren't nearly as innocent as he pretends they are.

@boxofbonesfic

🔞 Play Pretend You play dumb to get help from some nerd in your Stats class, but end up biting off more than you can chew. 

@thollandsgirl2013

🔞 Love Stained You surprise Peter with kisses to test your new lipstick, leaving him covered in maroon marks. 🔞 His Favorite Breakfast Peter wakes up horny and needy in the morning and he takes you on the kitchen counter. 🔞 No Nut November Challenge It's November, Peter and Ned decided to join no nut November, it's a disaster for Peter.

@yasministration

🔞 am i doing this right? could i request summer, smut with peter. and the prompt “am i doing this right”

@alsofoundinpeas

🔞 A Little Tied Up When Spider-Man offers a surprisingly unconventional alternative to an ice pack, you find yourself agreeing, only to discover there's more to his touch than just superhuman strength.

@uhhhj13iguess

🔞 what you asked for teasing peter parker while he's patrollingggggg 🔞 the stages of us peter parker starts an internship at oscorp, matched into a robotics team led by you — you, who has peter believing in love at first sight. and despite every instinct in his body, peter can't help but fall further and more helplessly in love with you... even if you happen to have a boyfriend. 🔞 isn't that crazy? reader storms into peter's apartment, upset over her last tinder date being a complete tool and refusing to eat her out. peter gets a little... distracted 🔞 a little too good "i don't know what kind of losers you've been with, but i'm not about to get off to some middle school level action, okay?" 🔞 under your spell peter 'friendly neighborhood spider-man' parker drooling at the sight of you when picking you up for the stark gala, and though he tries, peter is just unable to behave himself when you look that good 🔞 friends helping friends sex pollen with peter parker x fem!reader

@iridescentparkers

🔞 lessons in sexting warnings: very suggestive! (18+) 🔞 lessons in sexting warnings: very suggestive! (18+)

@mcrdvcks

🔞 swear it's just right for ya At first it just seems like a normal New York heatwave, but the longer it lasts the more you realize that it might be a different kind of heat.

[gracerecs]

loki laufeyson fic recs

✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | ✪ g's star reads | 🔞 smut below the cut

@castielscaplan

✧.* More of You, I Love Loki transforms into you while you have your back turned away. And he falls in love all over again.

@westviewsoldest

✧.* Falling Asleep at Your Desk Loki's getting used to you falling asleep at a conference table, lucky he's always there to carry you to bed. ✧.* His Greatest Achievement A little heart-to-heart after you get injured on a mission and are stuck in medbay for a couple of hours.

@monstersandgenderqueers

✧.* Little Gifts Loki, a new resident in the compound, sparks your interest. You decide to give him a gift in secret, hoping he might cheer up just a little bit. Well, it didn't work out that way.

@nocturnewidow

✧.* Quiet Havoc learning how to live a quieter life

@loki-cees-all

✧.* The Interruption It's your birthday, and Loki has one goal - to make sure you feel like the Queen that you are. So when Steve sends out a mysterious email about some kind of emergency, Loki decides to take care of it before you ever find out about it.

@oswildin

✧.* Mischief's Daughter It’s Loki’s first time looking after your daughter alone.

@raven-dor

✧.* when I look at you in which loki laufeyson takes his brother’s advice: be brave

@lokileaf

✧.* comfort Reader is on her period and Loki wants to help!

@vbecker10

✧.* The Pebble and the Frost Giant Loki is trying to deny his feelings for you so he doesn't ruin your friendship but when he passes an area filled with pebbles and small rocks, he's unable to resist the urge to bring one back for you and tell you he loves you.

@andsheloved

⚠︎ all I wanted when loki finds himself finally being accepted by the rest of the team, you begin to wonder what your relationship really meant to him.

@muddyorbsblr

⚠︎ mission first, right? You're plagued with doubts when Loki goes radio silent in the middle of a mission after being tasked to acquire intelligence in the possession of a drop dead gorgeous woman.

@mochie85

⚠︎ Have Mercy You're a powered being with healing abilities and you try to bring Loki back from the brink of death.

@starlight-loki

✧.* Heatwave Or, That Time You Saw A Different Side of Loki

@anundyingfidelity

⚠︎ FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.

@woncheolisms

✧.* See Him Again The reader goes back in time to 2012 and sees Loki for the first time since his death. Alternative ending.

@evendeadlmthehero

✧.* Looking at the Past Loki gets captured by the TVA and gets to see his past were he finds out that he had a lover; you.

@lokisgoodgirl

🔞 Like a Queen Just a dirty, praise-filled railing. 🔞 Almost Dawn Loki tries to sneak into bed. Short, sweet, smutty.

@lokileaf

🔞 I'll Take Care of It reader is slightly jealous and insecure because Loki already had many people in bed and they don't

@late-to-the-party-81

🔞 double, no trouble ✪ Loki always knows what you need, even when you don’t.

@writingfics-passingtime

🔞 Empty Threats stranded in a one-room safe house overnight with Loki, you learn the consequences of teasing him.

@violetflowerswrites

🔞 It's Always Been You Loki has been in love with his childhood best friend for years. She, on the hand, has never seen him as more than a brotherly type. How will he react when the love of his life shows up in the middle of the night, in his bedroom, professing her desire for him at long last?

@flowersforbucky

🔞 everglow ✪ I thought gods don't plead?"

@cleo-fox

🔞 Overtime ✪ Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

[billionairebratenergy]

If It’s Casual

 Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You told yourself it was casual. That it didn’t mean anything when his hand found yours in the dark, when his eyes softened only for you. But in the quiet between missions, where grief and ghosts live, pretending not to love him hurts worse than losing him ever could.

(inspired by “Casual” by Chappell Roan)

Avengers Compound, 2:13 a.m.

The halls were too quiet. They always were, after missions, after the adrenaline drained and only silence was left to measure what you’d lost.

Bucky was already there when you came back from the gym, sitting on the edge of the couch in the dimly lit common room. The flicker of the TV painted his face in ghost-light, a news channel replaying footage of a battle you’d both survived hours ago. His hair was damp, curling at the ends, and he hadn’t bothered to change out of his tactical pants.

He looked up when you entered, and that was all it took.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” His voice was a rasp, low, careful.

You shook your head. “Didn’t try.”

He smiled faintly, something crooked and private. “Same.”

That smile was your downfall. Always had been.

You sat beside him. Close enough to feel the heat from his arm but not close enough to be obvious. It had started like this, months ago, proximity as a kind of gravity. A shoulder brushing another in the gym. A shared drink after a mission. A night where neither of you wanted to be alone.

Casual, you’d said. Simple, he’d agreed.

You’d both lied.

“My friends call me a loser, ’cause I’m still hanging around…”

It wasn’t supposed to be anything. That was the rule, his rule, mostly.

He’d told you he wasn’t ready. That he couldn’t offer what people deserved, not with everything still fractured in him. And you, who prided yourself on control, had nodded like you understood.

You told yourself it was enough, the late nights, the quiet laughter, the way his gaze found yours across the briefing room.

But it wasn’t.

Because sometimes, when his fingers brushed your wrist or his voice dipped just a little lower when he said your name, you thought maybe, maybe, he felt it too.

Then morning would come, and he’d walk past you in the hallway like you were just another agent on his team.

It got worse after Long Island.

Tony’s beach house had been turned into an off-duty safe house, somewhere the remaining Avengers could disappear for a weekend. Sam had organized it, too much whiskey, too many ghosts.

Bucky had invited you. That should’ve meant something.

It didn’t. Not to him, at least.

You remembered the sound of waves through the open window, the low hum of a song you couldn’t name, and the feel of his hand tracing lazy circles against your thigh. The moment had been so soft it felt dangerous.

Then, hours later, you’d overheard him laughing with Sam, a joke, careless words:

“It’s not serious, man. We’re just… you know. Casual.”

Casual.

Like it was nothing. Like you were nothing.

You’d smiled through it, later. Pretended not to notice the hollow ache spreading beneath your ribs.

“You said, ‘Baby, no attachment,’ but we’re knee-deep in everything that hurts.”

Weeks passed, filled with missions and silence.

You tried to keep your distance. Tried to remember what this was supposed to be, unimportant, undefined.

But Bucky had a way of finding you. In the gym, after training, standing too close while correcting your stance. In the kitchen at midnight, handing you coffee with that half-smile.

And then there were the small betrayals: the way he looked at you when you laughed with Sam; the tension in his jaw when another agent offered to spar with you.

If it was casual, it didn’t feel like it.

You started keeping things at his place without meaning to, a hair tie, your favorite mug, your bra in the wrong drawer. Little claims of space in his life that he never commented on.

Once, you caught him staring at the mug. His thumb brushed over the chipped handle like it meant something.

He didn’t say a word. Neither did you.

The compound was different at night.

Empty corridors. Distant hums from the labs. The quiet grief that lived in every wall, Nat’s laughter that never came back, Steve’s absence like a wound that never healed.

Bucky carried those ghosts with him. You saw it in the way he moved, careful not to disturb the quiet. You’d wanted to ease that weight for him. Maybe that’s what hurt the most, that you wanted to love him out of it, but he’d never let you try.

“It’s hard being casual when my favorite shirt’s in your dresser…”

You found him again one night, weeks later. Outside on the balcony, moonlight painting the scars on his metal arm in silver.

He didn’t turn when you approached. Didn’t have to. “You should be asleep,” he murmured.

“So should you.”

Silence stretched between you, fragile, stretched thin as wire.

Finally, you said, “Why do you keep doing this?”

His shoulders tensed. “Doing what?”

“Pretending it doesn’t mean anything.”

He exhaled slowly. “Because it’s easier that way.”

You laughed, sharp and hollow. “Easier for who?”

He turned then, eyes dark and unreadable. “For both of us.”

“No,” you said, voice breaking despite yourself. “Just for you.”

Something flickered across his face, regret, maybe. But it vanished too fast to be sure.

He stepped closer, and you felt the air change. His hand came up, hovering near your cheek but not touching. “Y/n—”

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Not if it doesn’t mean anything.”

The space between you burned with everything unsaid.

He dropped his hand. “You knew what this was.”

You nodded, even as your throat tightened. “Yeah. I just thought maybe… it could be more.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He turned away, gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles went white.

And maybe that was your answer.

“I hate that I let this drag on so long…”

The next morning, he was gone.

You found a note, short, neat handwriting.

Had to clear my head. Back soon.

No apology. No explanation. Just absence.

You trained until your hands blistered, sparred until Sam made you stop. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you were fine.

But every quiet moment, every mission, every room he wasn’t in, ached like a bruise that wouldn’t fade.

When he finally came back, weeks later, something had shifted.

He smiled at you like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t bled for him in silence.

You played along. You always did.

“If it’s casual, then get me off this feeling — if it’s casual now…”

Months later, you stood together after a mission. Dust in your hair, cuts stinging with sweat. The quinjet hummed quietly in the background.

You’d saved his life, again. Pulled him out from under fire, your shoulder torn open in the process.

He was quiet on the flight home. Too quiet.

Finally, you said, “You could say thank you.”

His head snapped up, eyes flashing. “You think I didn’t notice? You think I wanted you to take that hit?”

“Then act like it meant something.”

“It always means something,” he said, low.

Your heart stuttered. “Then why do you keep pretending it doesn’t?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. The silence was enough.

When the jet landed, you walked away first. You didn’t look back.

Weeks later

Sam found you in the training room, knuckles raw. “You know he misses you, right?”

You didn’t stop punching the bag. “He doesn’t.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe he’s just scared.”

You hit harder. “Then he should’ve said that.”

The bag swayed under the impact. You stood there, breathing hard, the world blurring around you.

That night, your door buzzed.

When you opened it, Bucky was there — damp from the rain, hair clinging to his forehead. His eyes found yours, unsteady.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he said quietly.

“Then why did you?”

He hesitated. “Because I miss you.”

The words hit harder than you expected. “You don’t get to say that.”

He stepped closer. “Y/n—”

“No.” Your voice cracked. “You don’t get to walk away, come back, and say you miss me like it means something.”

His jaw tightened. “It does mean something.”

“Then what are we?”

He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t.

You laughed bitterly, tears stinging. “That’s what I thought.”

He reached out, fingertips brushing your arm — just once, enough to make your heart fracture.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said.

“You did anyway.”

You closed the door before he could reply.

You stood there for a long time after, forehead against the cool metal, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall.

“It’s casual now,” the song echoed faintly from someone’s speaker in another room, a ghost of sound that made your chest ache.

You told yourself you were done. That this was the end.

But some nights, when the compound was too quiet, you swore you could still feel him beside you — his warmth, his voice, the weight of all the words you never said.

And you realized, with a kind of cruel clarity, that you’d rather ache for him forever than forget him completely.

Because maybe it had always been more than casual. Just never enough to be love.

Taglist: @avengersfan25,@doilooklikeagiveafrack, @hits-different-cause-its-you, @fallen-w1ngs, @angelsoftbea, @a-century-of-sass, @winchestert101

Want to join my taglist? Fill out the form at this link or drop a comment below!

[gracerecs]

hey, welcome. this is my little overflow corner of tumblr — the stuff that doesn’t fit neatly into my other spaces. think: stray thoughts, personal content, off-beat fic recs, and anything else i feel like tossing into the void.

i already run 3 other blogs if that’s more your vibe:

@batboysanonymous - acotar

@malfoysanctuary - wizarding world

@billionairebratenergy - marvel

this one’s called the miscellany for a reason. expect variety, randomness, and a mix of things i love. follow along if you’re into the uncurated, in-between bits.

-

my fic recs

clark kent | jason todd | dick grayson | poly (why choose?)

marvel recs | hp recs | acotar recs

[billionairebratenergy]

my personal blog!!

[billionairebratenergy]

More Than I’ll Ever Tell You

 Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When Y/n’s walls finally crack, she fears Bucky will see too much, too soon, but instead of anger, he offers the one thing she never expected: patience. In a world full of violence, she learns that love can be both the gentlest surrender and the fiercest fight.

The compound was never truly silent. Even in the dead of night, when the glass windows framed only the silver of the moon, there was always a hum, a faint vibration of Stark’s endless technology, the soft murmur of the air system, the sigh of the world beyond.

But Bucky Barnes was used to noise. He carried it inside him. His nightmares had their own soundscape, screams and gunfire, metal tearing through flesh, orders barked in Russian, the echo of his own voice pleading for silence. Silence never came.

Until her.

He hadn’t meant to end up in the kitchen. His feet had taken him there before his mind caught up, restless, unwilling to lie in bed and watch the ceiling spin. His body was coiled tight, wired to move, yet exhausted from battles fought only in memory.

And then he saw her.

Y/n was standing at the counter, wrapped in one of those soft oversized sweatshirts she favored, hair loose around her shoulders. She was barefoot, toes curling against the cool tiles, and she held a steaming mug in both hands as if it alone tethered her to the earth.

Her head turned at the sound of his boots. Not startled, never startled, at least not by him. Just aware.

“You’re awake,” she said softly, voice carrying the warmth of someone who had been waiting for him without realizing it.

“Couldn’t sleep.” His throat was rough, as if sleep had been a foreign country for too long.

She only hummed, reaching for another mug. She poured water, dipped a teabag, and without comment slid it toward him. Chamomile. She’d figured out months ago that he didn’t like the bitterness of black tea.

It was such a small thing, and yet it unraveled him more than any battlefield ever had.

Bucky picked up the cup, fingers brushing hers for a fraction of a second, before retreating into silence. The weight of words always sat heavy on his tongue.

But silence with her never demanded filling.

Y/n leaned against the counter again, blowing gently on her tea. Her gaze flicked toward him, steady, unflinching. “You ever think,” she murmured, “that the hardest part isn’t the nightmares? It’s waking up after them, having to carry the echoes through the whole day like they’re stitched into your skin.”

The words speared through him. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

She wasn’t guessing. She wasn’t offering empty comfort. She knew.

Something hot and sharp pushed behind his ribs, a cocktail of grief and gratitude, because hearing his own pain in her voice was both unbearable and the only thing that made him feel less alone.

He set his mug down and stepped closer. Close enough that the edge of her sleeve brushed his arm, close enough that he could see the reflection of his scars in her wide, tender eyes.

Her lips trembled, but her smile held steady. “You don’t have to carry it alone, Bucky. Not with me.”

The sentence cracked him open.

He didn’t deserve her. God, he didn’t deserve even the idea of her. But when she extended her hand across the counter, palm up in silent offering, his metal fingers slid into hers. Careful. Fragile. Like he was holding the only piece of softness left in a world built of glass and knives.

And she didn’t flinch. Her thumb traced the ridges of cold vibranium like they were just another part of him, not a weapon, not a scar. Just him.

And for the first time in decades, Bucky Barnes wondered if maybe he wasn’t beyond saving after all.

It happened again.

Another night. Another scream torn from his throat as he jerked awake, the darkness pressing in too close, too loud. His skin was slick with sweat, breaths ragged, metal hand clenching against the sheets like he could strangle the past back into silence.

And then, her.

A gentle palm on his back. A steadying weight. A whisper soft as silk.

“Bucky.”

His chest heaved. He shook his head, unable to meet her eyes. “Don’t—don’t look at me like that.”

Her voice was tender, puzzled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m… worth saving.” His voice cracked around the words. “Like I’m not one wrong move away from hurting you too.”

He expected her to pull back, to retreat from the danger he’d just named out loud. But instead she pressed her forehead to his shoulder, arms wrapping around him as if she could anchor him in place.

Her voice trembled, but the truth in it was steady. “Bucky. How I feel when someone is patient and reassures me instead of getting mad at me for having feelings… That’s what you do for me. Every time you don’t shut me out. Every time you choose to stay. You think you’re broken, but you give me the very thing you think you can’t.”

The words cut straight through his armor. His lungs stuttered. He turned, just enough to catch the wet shimmer in her eyes.

Not pity. Never pity. Just fierce, unyielding love.

And it undid him.

They weren’t perfect. Love didn’t erase the fractures.

It happened in the middle of an argument—one that began soft and cautious, but quickly sharpened until every word felt like glass between them.

Bucky had pulled away again. Retreating behind those walls he thought kept her safe from him. And Y/n, tired of watching him disappear piece by piece, couldn’t stay silent anymore.

She shook her head, tears spilling hot down her cheeks. “You keep acting like I’m the fragile one. Like you’re the only one carrying scars.” Her voice wavered, but her gaze stayed fixed on him. “But do you even know what it’s like inside my head?”

Bucky’s throat worked, but no words came.

Y/n’s arms tightened around herself, her voice breaking open with the weight of it. “To whom do I owe the biggest apology? No one’s been crueler than I’ve been to me. I tear myself apart every single day. With doubt. With guilt. With words I wouldn’t dare say to another soul, but I whisper them to myself like a prayer.”

Her breath hitched, but she forced herself forward. “And yet, you look at me like I’m something pure. Like I’m not cracked down the middle.” Her hand pressed against her chest, fingers curling. “But I am, Bucky. I am. I’ve hurt myself in ways you’ll never see. And it terrifies me—because I don’t know if you’ll still want me once you realize I’m not the unbreakable person you think I am.”

Bucky’s world tilted.

Because those weren’t just her words—they were his. Every line, every wound she admitted, he had lived in his own skin. Self-loathing, shame, the kind of damage no one else could see. And hearing it from her, hearing it in the voice of the person who had been his lifeline, stripped him bare.

He felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. His hands curled uselessly at his sides, heart hammering against his ribs like it wanted out. He wanted to run to her, to take the hurt back into himself, but fear kept him still for a fraction of a second—fear that he was the reason her voice shook at all.

And then her eyes lifted, meeting his, shimmering with both pain and defiance. “I need you to see all of me, Bucky. Not just the parts you think deserve love.”

That broke him.

The distance between them was unbearable.

He moved. Three strides, maybe less, and then his trembling hands were cupping her face. He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath uneven, shaking with the force of everything he couldn’t hold inside anymore.

“You don’t get it either,” he rasped, his voice rough, desperate. “If you think I’ll ever see you as anything less than the best damn thing in my life—you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

Her sob cut through him, sharp and raw, and then she was in his arms, collapsing into him not out of weakness but out of trust. She clutched his shirt, holding him like she’d drown if she let go.

He wrapped himself around her—metal and flesh, ruin and redemption—holding her as if she were the only thing tethering him to this world.

And for the first time, he understood.

They weren’t saving each other. They weren’t fixing what couldn’t be fixed.

They were simply refusing to let the other fall.

Weeks later, she woke in the middle of the night to find him watching her.

The moonlight carved silver across his features, softening the sharp lines into something unearthly. His hair was mussed, falling into his face, his chest rising slow and steady. But his eyes—his eyes were lit like dawn breaking, tender and almost disbelieving, as though he was afraid she might vanish if he blinked.

Her voice was hushed, drowsy but warm. “Can’t sleep again?”

Bucky didn’t look away. He reached out, fingertips grazing the curve of her cheek like he was memorizing her. “Didn’t want to,” he murmured, reverent. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, emotion tangled in his voice. “Didn’t want to miss this. Didn’t want to miss you.”

Her heart twisted, tightening until it almost hurt. She reached up, brushing her fingers across the rough line of his jaw, the faint stubble catching against her skin. “You don’t have to watch me like I’m going to disappear,” she whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to believe it. When he opened them again, the weight in them made her chest ache. “You say that, but… I still wake up expecting it. That one day I’ll look over and you’ll be gone. Because why wouldn’t you be?” His voice cracked, low and broken. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, deserve you.”

Tears pricked her eyes, her hand tightening against his cheek. “Bucky.” She swallowed, voice trembling but sure. “Buck, my love runs deeper than words, more than you’ll ever know, more than I’ll ever tell you.”

He stilled, breath catching. Something in him shattered—like a wall he’d held up even with her—then rebuilt and bloomed all in the same heartbeat. His hand closed gently around hers, pulling it to his chest, pressing it over the steady thrum of his heart. The same heart that had once been silenced, commandeered, broken.

His voice was rough, thick with everything he didn’t know how to say. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn it. Every damn day, I’ll try.”

Her tears slipped free, not from sorrow but from the weight of loving him, of being loved by him in return. She leaned forward, closing the last breath of space between them, and kissed him.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t hungry. It was slow, tender, infinite. The kind of kiss that tasted like a vow, like forever. Not about passion, but about home.

And for the first time in years, in the fragile quiet between heartbeats, Bucky Barnes believed he had found peace.

Taglist: @avengersfan25,@doilooklikeagiveafrack, @hits-different-cause-its-you, @fallen-w1ngs, @angelsoftbea, @a-century-of-sass, @fallen-w1ngs, @winchestert101

Want to join my taglist? Fill out the form at this link or drop a comment below!

[billionairebratenergy]

Behind Closed Doors

 Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Everyone sees the Winter Soldier. But only you know what it means when he tugs your wrist and disappears with you behind a door, leaving the noise of the world behind.

The clink of champagne flutes, the low thrum of violins, and the hum of Manhattan elite conversation—none of it mattered. Not when Bucky Barnes was staring at you like he could set you on fire with a glance.

He was halfway across the ballroom, stiff in a black suit, nodding along as Tony Stark introduced him to some senator with too many opinions and not enough tact. But then his eyes met yours.

And then he was gone.

Your heart skipped. That look. That look always meant one thing.

You barely had time to excuse yourself from the agents chatting beside you before a silver hand found your wrist in the corridor—cool, familiar, and intentional. He didn’t say a word as he pulled you with him, down a side hallway where the music thinned into silence.

“Bucky—” you started, but the door to a closet swung open, and he backed in, tugging you along like gravity. The door clicked shut behind you.

And then his mouth was on yours.

He kissed you like a man unhinged—fingers gripping your waist, your neck, like he needed to hold you still or he’d lose the thread of reality entirely. You clutched at his shirt as his tongue slid against yours, desperate and aching, like this was the first time or the last.

Every time he did this—dragged you into quiet corners, tucked-away rooms, hidden places—it was like the world slipped away and left just the two of you. Bucky and you. Breathless. Real.

“Couldn’t wait,” he rasped against your lips. “You look too good in that damn dress.”

“And it took you how long to tell me?”

“Seventeen minutes,” he said, kissing down your jaw. “Don’t make me do that again.”

You laughed, high and breathless. “You’re completely obsessed.”

He grazed his teeth along your throat. “With you? Yeah. Unapologetically.”

His hands were everywhere—at your hips, your back, your thigh. One metal, one warm. He touched you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

In the dim light of that tiny closet, you felt more known than you ever had in your life.

The thing about Bucky Barnes was that when he loved you, it was quiet in public but relentless in private.

In the common room, he’d rest his knee against yours with studied nonchalance. At meetings, his hand would trail across your lower back like he needed to be tethered to something. But behind closed doors?

He fell apart for you.

He told you things he hadn’t spoken aloud in decades. Let you trace the scars on his shoulder blades and kiss the ones across his knuckles. He memorized your laugh and counted the ways you curled into him in your sleep.

That night, after the gala ended, and the stars claimed the sky outside the compound windows, Bucky walked you down the hallway to your shared apartment, hand never leaving yours. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to.

Inside, he stripped off his suit jacket, collapsed on the couch, and groaned. “How do you have the energy for these things?”

“I’m fueled entirely by spite and the knowledge that Stark hates being ignored.”

He smirked and opened his arms. You climbed into his lap without hesitation, knees bracketing his thighs. He leaned his head against your shoulder like he was coming home.

“Better?” you asked, fingers threading through his hair.

“Much.”

You ran your nails lightly over his scalp. He sighed into you, melting like butter on warm bread.

“Tell me something soft,” he murmured.

This was your favorite game.

“Okay,” you said, brushing his hair back. “When I was little, I used to pretend that stars were just holes poked in the sky so the light from other worlds could sneak through.”

He hummed, low and content. “That’s a good one.”

“Your turn.”

He paused. “When I dream of you, you’re always wearing light. Like… not a dress. Just light. Like you glow.”

You blinked. “Bucky…”

“I think my brain’s trying to tell me you’re too good to be real.”

You kissed him then, slow and deep. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Later, you curled up together under a worn blanket on the couch. His fingers traced aimless circles into your thigh, and your legs tangled like ivy.

“Can I tell you something ridiculous?” he asked.

“Always.”

“I get jealous,” he said quietly. “At parties. Of people who get to talk to you. Watch you laugh. I want to stand behind you with a sign that says ‘She’s Mine.’”

You grinned. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“I think I’d look great in possessiveness.”

“You already do.”

He kissed the tip of your nose. “I just… I don’t want anyone thinking they can even try.”

“I’ve been yours since the day you offered me your hoodie in that freezing briefing room.”

He smirked. “I remember that. You were shivering.”

“I was shivering because you were wearing it before me.”

His eyes darkened. “Wish I could go back and kiss you right then.”

“Who says you can’t kiss me now?”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

It was almost 2 AM by the time you climbed into bed. The city glowed outside your window, soft light casting a silver sheen over his bare shoulder as he pulled you into his arms.

He curled behind you like a shield, metal arm tight around your waist, real one tucked beneath your head.

“Can I tell you something ridiculous?” you whispered into the quiet.

“Mhm.”

“I knew you were gonna kiss me tonight the second I saw your jaw clench across the ballroom.”

He laughed into your neck. “You read me too well.”

“You don’t even try to hide it anymore.”

“Why would I? You walk into a room and I forget how to breathe.”

You turned in his arms and pressed your palm over his heart. “You’re dramatic.”

He kissed your forehead. “Only for you.”

A beat of silence passed, thick with the kind of emotion that didn’t need naming.

“You’re the only part of my life that doesn’t feel borrowed,” he murmured. “You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” you whispered back. “Every hallway. Every kiss. Every night.”

He pulled you in closer, like he could memorize your warmth.

“You’re my peace,” he said, voice raw with truth. “Behind every door. In every quiet.”

And you believed him.

Because with Bucky, love didn’t need an audience.

It just needed a place where no one else was looking.

Taglist: @avengersfan25,@doilooklikeagiveafrack, @hits-different-cause-its-you, @fallen-w1ngs, @angelsoftbea, @a-century-of-sass

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[billionairebratenergy]

Every Little Thing

 Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes tracks every detail of your life like a soldier guarding something precious, battling the ghosts that whisper you're too good to be true.

Bucky notices everything.

It’s not intentional. It’s survival. It’s instinct, muscle-deep and bone-etched, as much a part of him as the metal welded to his body.

He knows how you tap your fingers three times against your mug before taking the first sip. How you always, without fail, leave your keys on the third hook by the door. How you eat your fries last, your dessert first, your smiles brightest when the sky’s just turning pink before sunset.

He knows you. Every little thing.

Which is why, on a rain-washed Saturday night when you casually mention you’re running to the store—the store, when you hate crowds, when you hate driving in low light—Bucky's mind snaps awake like a man hearing a gun cock.

He smiles. He kisses your forehead. But inside, the storm brews.

It brews when you take a work call during lunch the next day, ignoring the sandwich he made, untouched and cooling on your plate. It churns harder when you visit the dentist twice in one week. (Once for a cleaning, you said. The second time?) Your voice had been muffled against your scarf. You hadn't really answered.

Bucky feels sick with it.

Not because he thinks you’re cruel. Not because he thinks you’re disloyal. But because some part of him—the broken, battered part—knows that things he loves get ripped away. Torn from his hands. And he never sees it coming.

The third night, he doesn’t sleep. He watches you breathe beside him, your face relaxed, peaceful. And the guilt nearly suffocates him. You deserve someone better. Someone who doesn’t catalog your routines like intelligence reports. Someone who trusts without question, who doesn’t have war drums pounding in their chest every time you smile just a little too tightly.

And yet—he can’t stop. He’s slipping again, hands bloody with doubt.

You notice. Of course you do.

You find him in the kitchen, hunched over a mug of cold coffee at 2:14 a.m., the overhead light buzz-buzz-buzzing like a broken thought.

"Hey," you say, voice sleep-rough but tender. "You okay, baby?"

Bucky looks up. The weight of his shame is a bullet in his chest. And the dam cracks.

"I—I notice everything," he rasps. "I track everything you do. I can’t shut it off. And when something’s different, I—I think something’s wrong. With us. With you. I don’t want to, I don’t mean to, but I..." He drags a hand through his hair, the strands trembling between his fingers. "It makes me feel crazy. And you’d have every right to leave. I wouldn’t even blame you."

You cross the kitchen, bare feet silent on the tile. You take the mug from his hands. Set it aside. Then you cup his face, warm palms grounding him back into his body.

"Look at me, Bucky." He does. Barely.

"You are not crazy. You’re not wrong. You’re not broken for loving me so much you notice things." Your thumb brushes his cheek, slow, steady. "You’re careful because you were hurt. You’re watchful because you’ve survived things no one should survive."

He tries to pull back. You don’t let him. You hold him like he’s something precious. Like he’s not a weapon but a wounded man.

"And the things that worried you?" you murmur. "You can ask. Anytime."

He blinks, confused, wary.

"The work call? Emergency. Client’s server crashed, they needed help fast." "The store trip? You were out of the only brand of hot cocoa you’ll drink and didn’t want to make a big deal out of it." "The dentist? Toothache. Temporary crown."

Bucky’s mouth opens, shuts.

"You don’t have to spiral alone," you say, your voice breaking just a little. "Not when you have me. Let me be the place where you’re safe, too."

It’s not an order. It’s not a plea. It’s a gift, wrapped in love.

And slowly—achingly—he takes it.

That night, he falls asleep with you tucked against his chest, your heartbeat lulling him into dreams where nothing—nothing—could go wrong.

It’s not immediate. Healing never is.

But you start telling him about every change before he can even notice.

“Hey, babe, I’m going to grab groceries—should be back in an hour. I’ll avoid the crowd.” “Gotta take a call during lunch today—promise it’s just one.” “Dentist again, unfortunately. Wish me luck."

Each casual announcement chips away at the old paranoia, like sunlight slowly melting winter ice.

And when, one night, you roll away from him in your sleep, Bucky only smiles into the darkness, knowing you’ll drift back sooner or later. Knowing you love him. Knowing he can trust you.

He’s free, for the first time, from the war inside his own head. Because you chose him. Because you stayed.

Because sometimes, love isn’t about not noticing the little things. It’s about trusting that they’ll always lead you back home.

To each other.

Always.

BONUS SCENE

You’re curled on the couch, scrolling through your phone mindlessly, when Bucky sits beside you with a suspicious gleam in his eye.

“What?” you laugh, leaning into his side.

He just grins, pulling something from behind his back—a neatly wrapped box, tied with an absurdly perfect bow.

“For you.”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Bucky says, suspiciously casual. "Just... saw something and thought of you."

You carefully untie the bow and lift the lid. Inside, nestled in delicate tissue paper, are products you recognize immediately: the brand-new moisturizer you’d been thinking about buying but hadn’t mentioned out loud, the serum you lingered over in Sephora but never picked up, the cleanser you bookmarked three nights ago in your browser and then forgot.

You blink. And blink again.

"Bucky... how did you...?"

He shrugs, sheepish, scratching the back of his neck like he’s been caught.

"I just... notice things." You stare at him, stunned.

"You always spend three extra seconds on your moisturizer when you don't love it," he says, cheeks pinkening. "You get this little crease between your eyebrows when your skin feels dry. And you kept hovering over your phone lately when you were online shopping but never actually bought anything, so I... figured I'd help."

The words come out like a confession. Like he's worried you’ll think it's too much.

Instead, you feel your heart absolutely shatter with love.

You set the box down and launch yourself into his lap, cupping his face in your hands. "You’re unreal," you whisper against his mouth. Bucky smiles—really smiles, all teeth and crinkling eyes—and kisses you like he’s breathing you in.

"You deserve the best," he murmurs between kisses. "Always."

You pull back just enough to whisper, "You already give me that. Every single day."

Later, you sit between his legs, your back against his chest, while he watches in awe as you try the new products—like it's some kind of sacred ritual. He kisses your shoulder every time you smile.

And you think: If noticing the little things is how he loves... then you’ll never let him forget how much you adore being seen.

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Taglist: @avengersfan25,@doilooklikeagiveafrack, @hits-different-cause-its-you, @fallen-w1ngs, @angelsoftbear

[billionairebratenergy]

Only You, Doll

 Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: There’s something beautiful about the way Bucky loves you—fierce, unrelenting, like you’re the only thing anchoring him to a world he never belonged to. But when harmless smiles from other men threaten to shatter his fragile control, you learn that even a super soldier’s heart isn’t indestructible after all.

Bucky Barnes is not a jealous man. Or at least, that’s the lie he tells himself.

He’s been a lot of things in his unnaturally long life—a soldier, a weapon, a ghost—but jealousy? That’s a weakness for men who have something to lose.

And for most of his life, Bucky’s had nothing.

Until you.

The first time it happens, he doesn’t even notice at first. You’re at Sam’s backyard barbecue, the sun painting your skin gold, and Bucky’s only half-listening to Steve. His eyes keep drifting to you—how you move through the crowd with that easy grace, how you smile like the world’s still worth it, how every time you laugh, his chest aches like a bruise pressed too hard.

Then he sees it. Some guy—one of Sam’s buddies from god-knows-where—gravitating toward you, beer in hand, smile a little too bright.

Bucky watches the whole thing unfold, jaw clenched so tight his teeth hurt. The guy leans in, closer than necessary, and you tilt your head back to laugh at something he says. Bucky doesn’t even realize he’s crossed the yard until Steve calls after him, confused.

You’re mid-sentence when Bucky’s arm slides around your waist, pulling you effortlessly into his side, his touch possessive in a way that makes your pulse skip. His smile is polite when he says, "Hey, doll. Miss me?" but his grip on your hip is anything but.

The guy’s smile falters. You catch it immediately—and so does Bucky. Bucky doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t have to. The man makes a quick excuse and disappears into the crowd.

Only then does Bucky relax, just a fraction, his hand smoothing over the fabric of your dress like it’s some kind of grounding ritual.

"James," you say softly, eyes glittering. "Was that really necessary?"

He kisses your temple instead of answering, but the warmth of his body against yours says everything his words won’t.

You think it’s a one-time thing. It’s not.

At first, it’s almost subtle—his hand finding yours whenever you’re out, his body positioning itself between you and strangers. But soon it becomes a pattern, a choreography of quiet possessiveness.

A waiter calls you "sweetheart"? Bucky tips him 5% less. A man offers to help you carry something? Bucky’s already got it in his vibranium hand. Even at the grocery store, when some poor guy accidentally brushes against you in the aisle, Bucky’s gaze sharpens to a knife’s edge.

The kicker is, he denies it every single time.

Every.

Single.

Time.

The breaking point comes at Tony’s party—glamorous and over-the-top as always.

You’re on the balcony, enjoying the breeze, when a tall blonde drifts over. He’s harmless, you can tell—probably someone’s brother or date. The conversation is light, harmless, until Bucky steps outside.

The moment Bucky spots you—laughing at something the guy said—something dark flickers behind his eyes. His smile vanishes, shoulders squaring like he’s preparing for battle.

You feel him before you see him, the heat of his presence curling over your skin. His hand settles on your lower back, gentle but unmistakable: mine.

The guy catches the signal loud and clear, mumbling something before practically running inside. You watch him go, then glance up at Bucky. "Really?"

Bucky shrugs, but his jaw is tight, tension coiled through his muscles.

"James," you sigh, turning to face him fully. "Are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

He doesn’t answer immediately. Just stares past you, at the glittering city lights, like they hold a truth he can’t bring himself to say aloud.

"I didn’t like the way he was looking at you." His voice is low, almost embarrassed.

"Buck," you step closer, fingers brushing his, "he was harmless."

"So was the last one," Bucky mutters. "And the one before that. And the one before—"

You press a hand to his chest, right over his heart, feeling the rapid beat beneath your palm. "Do you really think I’d ever—"

"No." His answer comes quick, fierce. "It’s not you I don’t trust, doll. It’s men. Men like me."

Your brow furrows. "What does that mean?"

He exhales sharply, like the confession physically hurts. "I know what they’re thinking when they look at you. Because once upon a time, that was me. Before you, before I knew better."

It hits you all at once.

This isn’t about jealousy. Not really. It’s about fear—the kind born from a lifetime of loss and war, from learning the hard way that good things slip through your fingers like smoke.

"Bucky," you whisper, fingers curling into his shirt. "I’m not going anywhere."

His throat bobs with a hard swallow. "I know." But he says it like he doesn’t believe it. Like the universe has never let him keep anything this good before.

Later, curled up on his couch, you poke at him again—because you love him, and because teasing him feels like stitching soft threads through his battle-scarred edges.

"So," you murmur, tracing patterns on his chest, "jealous?"

Bucky groans into the pillow behind his head. "I’m not jealous."

You grin, propping yourself up on one elbow. "Really? Because if I remember correctly, someone nearly growled at a waiter last week."

His arm slides around your waist, tugging you back down until you’re sprawled across him. "I just know men, doll. That’s all."

"Because you are one?"

"Damn right."

"And you don’t trust yourself?"

Bucky’s smile is small, a little crooked. "Not even a little."

You laugh, burying your face in his neck. "James Buchanan Barnes, you are a menace."

He presses a kiss to your temple, voice a soft rumble. "I’m your menace."

And there it is—the truth he can’t always say aloud. That he’s yours. That you’re his.

And maybe, just maybe, if he holds you tight enough, the universe won’t take you away too.

The next morning, you catch him sneaking one of his shirts into your bag before you leave for work.

"Because," he says when you raise a brow, "if men are gonna look at you, they can at least know you belong to someone."

"Possessive much?"

"Absolutely."

You laugh, looping your arms around his neck. "Good. Because you’re mine too, Barnes."

And for the first time, Bucky doesn’t argue.

─────────────

It starts with his shirt.

The one he snuck into your bag this morning. The one you wore to bed tonight, just to tease him.

You’re curled up under the sheets, the worn Henley draping over your thighs, and Bucky’s standing at the edge of the bed—blue eyes darker than the sky outside, jaw tight, hands flexing at his sides like he’s fighting himself.

You know that look. It’s the one he gets when he’s teetering between lover and soldier, between tender and ruthless.

"Something wrong, Sergeant?" you ask, voice soft and playful, but the way his gaze drags over your body—the outline of your bare legs under his shirt, the curve of your hips shifting under the sheets—makes your pulse trip.

Bucky exhales hard, dragging his vibranium hand over his face. "Doll."

Just your name. Just that voice—low and gravel-rough, thick with something hungry.

You sit up slowly, the sheets pooling around your hips, and his Henley slips off one shoulder. Bucky’s eyes track the movement like a predator stalking prey.

"You’ve been pushing me all day," he mutters, stepping toward the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress like a warning. "Talking back. Calling me jealous."

"Because you are," you smile, all innocent and wicked.

Bucky’s weight is over you in a heartbeat, caging you beneath him. The cool press of metal fingers against your jaw makes you shiver.

"You think it’s funny," he says, voice dark silk, "how crazy you make me."

"Maybe a little," you whisper, eyes sparkling with defiance.

He leans in, his nose brushing yours, lips barely an inch away. "Do you know how hard it is," he murmurs, "to watch men look at you like they could ever deserve you?"

Your breath hitches.

"I don’t trust them," he continues, mouth ghosting down your throat, voice fraying at the edges. "But you? I trust you with every fucked-up, broken piece of me."

Your hands slide into his hair, tugging him down until your lips meet his, and the moment they do, the tether snaps.

Bucky kisses you like a man starved—deep and hungry, all teeth and tongue and desperation. His flesh hand fists in the fabric of his own shirt on your body, tugging it up until your bare skin meets the rough drag of his calloused fingers.

"Mine," he growls against your mouth, and you don’t argue.

Because you are. You always have been.

He strips you of his shirt like it’s offended him, tossing it aside carelessly. His lips map a path down your neck, your chest, his metal hand pinning your hips as his mouth closes around your nipple, sucking just hard enough to make you arch.

"Bucky—"

The sound of his name from your lips makes him groan, the sound vibrating against your skin. He kisses lower, trailing down your stomach, his stubble leaving pink paths in his wake, until his shoulders are wedged between your thighs.

"You want me to stop being jealous, doll?" he asks, voice rough silk against your inner thigh. "Fine."

His tongue slides through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world to ruin you.

"I’ll just remind you," he murmurs between kisses, "why you don’t need anyone else."

Your hands tangle in his hair, thighs trembling against his cheeks, and Bucky loves it—loves the way you come undone for him, no barriers, no pretense. Just you, open and wrecked and his.

He works you like a man who knows your body better than his own—tongue circling, fingers curling inside you, teasing and relentless until you’re begging his name like a prayer.

"You’re so fucking perfect," he rasps, eyes flicking up to watch you fall apart. "Every inch of you—mine."

The moment you break, his name on your lips like a confession, Bucky’s already crawling back up your body, mouth crashing into yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Need you," you whisper, nails digging into his back. "Need you inside me."

"Fuck," he groans, forehead pressing against yours. "You’ll kill me one day, doll."

He’s already bare—somehow you didn’t even notice him stripping—and when he slides inside you, it’s slow and deep, a claiming and a promise all at once.

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist, and Bucky moves like a man who has nowhere else to be. Just here, in this bed, with the only thing he’s ever truly wanted.

Every thrust pushes your bodies closer—skin to skin, heart to heart. His hands never stop touching you, like he’s memorizing you all over again, metal and flesh branding every inch of you his.

"You feel so good," he breathes, voice unraveling. "Like you were made for me."

You pull him down into a kiss, soft this time, your hands cradling his face. "I was."

That undoes him completely.

Bucky fucks you harder after that, like he’s trying to pour every unspoken word into your skin—you’re mine, you’re safe, I love you, I love you, I love you.

When you come again, it’s with his name on your tongue, and Bucky follows you over the edge, spilling inside you with a guttural moan.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. Just tangled limbs and breathless silence, hearts beating in sync.

Bucky finally collapses beside you, pulling you into his chest, and you trace lazy circles over his sternum.

"So," you murmur sleepily, "jealous?"

He groans, burying his face in your hair. "I’m not jealous."

"You just spent twenty minutes reminding me why no one else could ever have me," you point out, grinning against his skin.

Bucky sighs, but there’s no bite to it. "Okay, fine. Maybe a little."

You press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah." You nuzzle closer, fingers tracing the edges of his dog tags where they rest against his skin. "Means you’re mine too."

Bucky’s arm tightens around you, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.

"Doll," he whispers, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, "I’ve been yours since the first smile."

You fall asleep like that, safe in the arms of a man who would burn the world down to keep you.

[billionairebratenergy]

Wherever You Are, I’ll Be

 Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: He needs your touch like air, anchoring himself to you in every room, every moment, his hand always finding your skin as if you’d vanish otherwise.

Bucky Barnes had never known softness until you.

Not in the silk of a Sunday morning when the world hadn’t woken up yet. Not in the brush of a hand against the small of his back while he cooked eggs. Not in the way someone would instinctively lean into him instead of away. But now? He needed it like breath. Like blood in his veins.

He needed you.

And more specifically, he needed to feel you.

Your thigh draped over his on the couch. Your pinky finger curled into his when you walked through the city. His hand on the curve of your waist while you brushed your teeth, and the comforting press of your calf against his in bed. Even now—his arm lay lazily around your shoulders as you laughed at something Sam was saying across the room.

But Bucky wasn’t listening.

He was watching your profile. The way your lips tilted up at the corners. The crinkle beside your eyes. And, maybe more urgently, the way a man had just walked up to you from behind and tapped your shoulder like he’d known you for years.

And Bucky—without thinking—tightened his grip.

His vibranium fingers flexed slightly on your arm. A grounding pressure. Subtle, but unmistakable. You didn’t even glance at him, just reached over your shoulder and rubbed your thumb across his knuckles as if you knew exactly what that little squeeze meant.

You did know.

-

He never liked when people approached out of nowhere. Not when it was you. Not when he was already two seconds from spiraling.

“Sorry,” the guy was saying. “Are you Y/N? From the Stark internship program?”

You blinked, tilting your head. “Yeah… That was years ago.”

“I thought so,” the stranger smiled. “I recognized you. You did a seminar on AI ethics, right? I was in the audience.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, ever polite, while Bucky’s jaw tensed beside you. “That’s a blast from the past.”

He had the gall to laugh, too charming for someone standing way too close.

Bucky’s hand slid from your shoulder to your waist.

Not just touching now. Holding.

He kept his eyes locked on the guy, his chin barely tilted up. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

And sure enough, after another thirty seconds of awkward small talk, the guy politely excused himself and walked off—leaving behind the heat of Bucky’s jealousy simmering in his chest.

You turned to look at him.

“I wasn’t going to walk away from you,” you whispered gently, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“I know,” he muttered, eyes dark. “But it feels like you might.”

Your brows softened. “Buck…”

“Every time someone walks up to you, I think they’ll take you. I know it’s stupid. I know you love me. But the part of me that lived through losing everything…” He swallowed hard. “That part doesn’t trust anything.”

You traced your fingers along his jawline. “Then let me show you. Every day. In every way.”

He looked at you like you’d just promised to rebuild him.

Because you had.

Later that night, he didn’t let you go once.

You brushed your teeth with his arm slung low around your hips. He undressed you with both hands on your waist like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. And when you crawled into bed, he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing you in like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Don’t leave the bed before me,” he murmured, his voice sleep-heavy.

“Even for coffee?” you teased.

He opened one eye. “I’ll get it for you. Just stay.”

You did.

And the next morning, when sunlight peeked through the curtains, Bucky was already awake.

He hadn’t moved. His hand was resting against your bare thigh. The metal one cradled your ribs under the blanket. Protective. Possessive. Gentle.

“Morning,” you whispered.

His lips curved softly. “Still here?”

“Always.”

Throughout the day, it was more of the same.

Bucky on your hip at the grocery store. His thumb stroking circles over your back while you chose tomatoes. He kissed your temple in the aisle, not because he needed to—but because he had to. Because the warmth of your skin beneath his lips told him this was real.

He didn’t speak much in public. Never had. But the world quieted around him when you were near. And he knew—knew—if he just kept one hand on you, he’d never lose you.

At the Tower, Sam clocked the way Bucky’s hand kept drifting. To your lower back. The nape of your neck. Your shoulder.

“You two glued together now?” Sam teased as he passed by.

Bucky didn’t respond. He just shifted slightly closer to you.

You smiled, not even trying to move away.

“Jealous?” you called after Sam.

Sam huffed a laugh but didn’t reply.

Bucky’s hand slid lower, resting on your hip bone as if claiming you in silence.

And for all his posturing—for all the brooding and quiet sulking—when the door finally closed and you were alone, the first thing Bucky did was pull you into his chest and whisper, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying.”

You looked up at him, brushing a hand across his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere, James,” you said, voice steady. “Even if someone offered me the world.”

He kissed you like it broke him to believe that.

That night, after making love slow and reverent and full of whispered promises, Bucky tucked his head into your neck.

You ran your fingers through his hair, gentle and rhythmic.

His voice was barely audible when he spoke.

“Sometimes I think you’ll wake up and remember you could have anyone. And that you’ll leave.”

You pulled back, cupping his face so he had to look at you.

“I already have everyone I want,” you said. “He has blue eyes, a vibranium arm, and the softest damn heart I’ve ever seen.”

He blinked fast.

“Touch me,” he rasped.

You leaned forward, brushing your nose to his. “I already am.”

“No,” he said. “Always.”

And he meant it.

Because to Bucky Barnes, touch wasn’t just a way to connect.

It was a promise.

A silent vow that he wasn’t alone.

That this time, the people he loved—you—weren’t going to be ripped away.

And you, with your arms around him, legs tangled with his, fingertips dancing over his ribs, you were keeping that promise.

One touch at a time.

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Taglist: @avengersfan25,@doilooklikeagiveafrack, @hits-different-cause-its-you

[billionairebratenergy]

as much as I love writing...sometimes I get an itch for a good read myself. here are the stories I ALWAYS reach for, please check them out and give the authors some love ❤️‍🔥 posted on my personal account 🫶🏻

✧.* fluff ⋆ | ˚꩜｡ series | ⚠︎ angst | 🔞 smut | ✪ g's star reads

Bucky Barnes | John Walker | Tony Stark | Loki Laufeyson | Joaquin Torres

Why choose? (Multiple Partners)

[billionairebratenergy]

Every Detail, Always

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Summary: For the girl who’s spent her life overlooked, he’s the one who sees everything.

Loki is not used to the quiet.

He had grown up with chaos—Asgardian politics, whispers of betrayal behind golden doors, the constant struggle to be seen. On Earth, chaos came in another form: traffic, coffee orders shouted over baristas, the strange human obsession with small talk.

But with Y/n, everything slowed down.

Until it didn’t.

Until he noticed—like he always did—that something had shifted.

“You stopped listening to your late-night playlists,” Loki said one evening, his voice barely breaking the silence between them.

Y/n looked up from her laptop, blinking at him from the couch. She’d been curled in her favorite blanket, the one with little embroidered constellations, typing half-heartedly at her thesis. “What?”

“Your music,” he clarified. “You haven’t played it in over a week.”

Her brows drew together, and he could see the moment it clicked.

“I guess I haven’t been in the mood,” she admitted, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. “You really notice that kind of thing?”

Loki tilted his head. “Darling, you create a world with your music. I notice when that world goes quiet.”

She stared at him, stunned by the poetry in his words, and that familiar heat pooled in his chest again—the kind that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with being known.

The first time she caught him noticing, really noticing, had been over something impossibly small.

Her nail polish.

“Is that obsidian?” Loki asked, eyes narrowing as she flipped through a book at the kitchen counter. “Your polish. It’s not just black—there’s shimmer in it.”

Y/n looked down at her nails and let out a breathy laugh. “Wow. You’re right. It’s called ‘midnight magic.’ How did you know?”

He leaned in, pretending to inspect her fingers with casual interest—but his voice gave him away. “I know how your hands look when you’re wearing ‘espresso dusk.’ I liked that one. But this… this feels like armor.”

Her breath caught.

She didn’t say what it meant to her—that someone had actually paid attention without expecting something in return. That someone wasn’t trying to break her apart and analyze her, but simply… admire the way she came together.

He didn’t mean to make her cry.

It happened two weeks later, when she came home from class, the air heavy with exhaustion. She dropped her bag by the door and headed straight for the bookshelf, but stopped mid-step when she noticed what was sitting in front of it.

Her sketchbook.

Open. To the page she hadn’t touched in months.

A soft, steady voice drifted from the kitchen. “You used to draw here. Every night. I thought maybe… you forgot how beautiful your work was.”

She turned around, eyes glassy.

“Loki…”

He stepped out of the shadows with two mugs of tea, pausing when he saw her trembling.

“I wasn’t trying to push,” he said gently. “I just thought—if the reason you stopped was because you felt alone in it… you don’t have to be.”

She crossed the room in three steps and threw her arms around his neck.

He let her cry into his shoulder, hands holding her like he’d crumble if he ever let go.

Y/n had never dated someone like this before.

There were no grand declarations. No constant need to be the center of attention. Loki didn’t fight for spotlight—he thrived in corners, in observation, in presence. She’d once joked he was a ghost haunting her favorite places, but she hadn’t expected him to respond with:

“I only linger where I’m allowed.”

She hadn’t laughed. She had kissed him.

Now, months later, she realized that attention—real attention—was a kind of love language she hadn’t known she craved.

He noticed when she started journaling again and quietly replaced her empty pens with her favorite kind—.38mm gel, black ink. He noticed when her boots were hurting her and left a pair of worn-in slippers by the door. He noticed when she was fighting tears in the shower and sat outside the door, reading softly until her breathing evened out.

Not once did he ask for praise.

But gods, did he melt when she gave it.

“You’re impossible,” she whispered one night, fingers brushing his jaw as they lay in bed.

He looked at her from under heavy lids. “Why?”

“Because you know things no one else does. About me. And you never make me feel weird for it.”

Loki smiled, tired and real. “That’s because you don’t make me feel like a monster for being curious.”

Her heart cracked open in the most beautiful way.

He found her crying one morning over an old birthday card.

She looked up, embarrassed, wiping at her eyes. “It’s stupid. My dad wrote this before he passed. I forgot I had it.”

Loki knelt before her, reaching out slowly—always giving her time to pull away.

She didn’t.

He took the card from her hand and read the message, lips moving silently.

Then he looked up at her and said, “He called you ‘little light.’ Did you know that’s what I call you in Old Norse?”

Her breath hitched.

“I noticed,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers, “that you always carry the people you love in everything you do. I think that’s why I fell for you.”

She kissed him like he was the only real thing in her life.

And for the first time in a long, long time, he felt like maybe he was.

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[billionairebratenergy]

Only the Best for You

Tony Stark x Reader

Summary:  You told him you didn’t want his money, only his heart, but he gives you both anyway.

The first time he gave you roses, you laughed. Not because it wasn’t sweet—God, it was—it was just so Tony. So extra. Fifty long-stemmed red roses, each one hand-trimmed, imported from Ecuador, and delivered not by a courier, but by Happy himself. You had mascara smeared under your eyes, a hoodie that still smelled like his cologne, and a pint of rocky road balanced on your lap. And yet, there he was, standing in the doorway of your apartment, in a Brioni suit and heartbreak in his eyes.

“I was only crying because of the movie, Tony,” you had said, laughing around your sniffles. “You didn’t need to buy out a florist.”

“I didn’t buy out the florist,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I bought the distributor.”

Of course he had.

You never wanted his money. Not when he drove you in vintage Aston Martins or flew you to Paris for croissants “because the ones in New York taste like regret.” Not when he gifted you patent shares for your birthday. Not even when he handed you a little velvet box with the key to a lake house in Vermont, complete with your favorite books already stocked on the shelves.

“Tony,” you’d said, more than once, eyes wide with disbelief. “I don’t care about any of this.”

“I know,” he always said. “That’s why I want to give you everything.”

It was hard to believe, sometimes, that this was the same man the world saw as a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. With you, he was softer. Slower. Gentler. He touched you like you were a song he didn’t want to end.

Like now, for instance. The penthouse was dim, lit only by a constellation of flickering candles and the skyline glowing through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You stood at the edge of the living room barefoot, still in the oversized t-shirt he loved to see you in, your hair loose and eyes a little glassy from a rough day. Tony reached for you with open arms.

“There she is,” he murmured. “Come here, sweetheart.”

You melted into him, your cheek against the silk of his shirt, his palm cradling the back of your head. The scent of his cologne grounded you—clean, masculine, laced with something only you ever noticed.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you whispered.

“I don’t need you to,” he said, pressing a kiss into your hair. “You had that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that says, ‘I’m about three seconds from climbing into bed and never coming out.’”

You let out a soft laugh, muffled against his chest. “Today sucked.”

“I know,” he said, and he didn’t ask for details. He didn’t need to. He just kissed the tip of your nose and took your hand. “Bath’s already drawn. Come on.”

The tub was filled with warm water, lavender foam, and sprinkled rose petals—yes, actual petals. Because of course.

“Tony,” you said, fighting a smile as he unwrapped a piece of Belgian chocolate and popped it into your mouth. “I told you, you don’t have to do all of this.”

“I know,” he said again, brushing a thumb over your jaw. “But you deserve it anyway.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the porcelain edge. “You always do too much.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Says the woman who just yesterday packed me a lunchbox with a handwritten note inside that said, ‘Don’t forget to eat, you stubborn man.’”

“That’s different,” you mumbled.

“How?”

“Because I did it out of love.”

“So do I.”

The way he said it—low, reverent, like it was a promise stitched into his very bones—made your heart squeeze. You reached up to cup his face, your fingers sliding into the stubble at his jaw.

“You don’t have to buy me things to show me that, Tony. I already know.”

His expression cracked, just slightly. There was always a moment like this with him—when the charm peeled back and the softness bled through, raw and real.

“I know you know,” he said quietly. “But sometimes… sometimes I want to spoil you. Because the world took too long to give me you, and I want to make up for it.”

Your throat tightened.

“Tony…”

“You patch up holes I didn’t know I had, dolcezza. You make me believe I’m more than the suit, more than the genius, more than the mess I made of my past.”

You sat up in the tub, ignoring the water sloshing around you, and pulled him down to kiss you. It wasn’t slow—it was immediate, desperate. Your fingers tangled in his shirt, dragging him closer. He sighed into your mouth like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“I love you,” you whispered, lips still brushing his. “Even if we were broke, living in a shoebox apartment, eating ramen every night. I’d still choose you.”

Tony’s eyes flared, wide and stunned, like he’d just found something he thought was extinct.

“God,” he breathed. “You wreck me.”

He kissed you again—deep, consuming. When he finally pulled back, he smirked, but it was gentler now, like melted gold.

“You’re not getting out of the gifts though.”

“Tony—”

“You’ll take the damn lake house and the chocolates and the roses and you’ll like them.”

You laughed, pressing your forehead to his. “Fine. But only if you let me love you the way you let me.”

He blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means candlelit dinners are great. But so is watching old Star Wars reruns in our pajamas with takeout and your head in my lap.”

Tony grinned, eyes crinkling. “Deal.”

Later that night, you curled into his side on the couch, a blanket draped over both of you. Your fingers idly played with the arc reactor’s edge through his shirt.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmured.

“Anything.”

“Why the chocolates, the roses, the baths? Why all of that?”

He was quiet for a moment, then, “Because I don’t want you to forget, not for a second, how deeply you are loved. Not just by the Tony Stark, but by the man beneath all of it. The one who wakes up every day wondering how the hell he got this lucky.”

Tears burned your eyes.

“I’m the lucky one.”

He turned his head, kissed your forehead, and held you tighter.

“No, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you heard it in every inch of him. “I am.”