Masterlist (Bucky)
Post-Mission Adrenaline (part 1)
Hurt/comfort, fluff, sfw, Bucky x reader
Pre-Mission (part 2)
Fluff, humor, check-in, sfw, Bucky x reader
Avatar
The Sun & Its Shadow

Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies

Janaina Medeiros
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
No title available
Keni
Mike Driver

@theartofmadeline
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium
we're not kids anymore.
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes

#extradirty

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
ojovivo
No title available
Claire Keane
Game of Thrones Daily
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from Mexico

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Vietnam

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from Hungary

seen from Egypt

seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Russia
seen from United States

seen from Germany
@jbuckysbarn
Masterlist (Bucky)
Post-Mission Adrenaline (part 1)
Hurt/comfort, fluff, sfw, Bucky x reader
Pre-Mission (part 2)
Fluff, humor, check-in, sfw, Bucky x reader
Avatar
The Sun & Its Shadow
~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~
Shy Around Him
my version! (original by @astronautcalledastro!)
A/n: So we did that thing where we took the same plot and just saw how different our stories would turn out, and I’m actually so pleasantly surprised. GO CHECK OUT HER VERSION!
(Def not my best work but its been marinating in my drafts for too long)
synopsis: You’ve never been shy. not with your friends, not in training, not in anything that matters. But around Neteyam, something goes terribly, horribly wrong.
content warnings: fluff, nosebleeds, excessive neteyam appreciation
word count: 6.1k
Either age him up or age yourself down. idc which.
~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~✧~✿~
“You’re not seriously still asleep, are you?”
The voice, low and teasing, cut through the warm, syrupy haze of near-dreams. It was Lo’ak. You knew that tone. Trouble, barely disguised as concern.
Your eyes fluttered open, the world a blur of dappled gold and green. The Morning light filtered through the leaves of your shelter, painting shifting patterns across the sand. The air smelled faintly of salt and damp earth. Your body felt heavy, blissfully so, suspended in the rare stolen quiet of an early hour.
“I’m… awake,” you murmured, but the word tasted too small in your mouth, like a lie you were telling your own bones.
The Omatikayan Prince - Neteyam
[ Neteyam x human!reader ]
summary: The Omatikayan prince was attractive. His looks and status alone were enough to make even the most beautiful girls crave his attention, but Neteyam had always responded in reserved politeness. Who would've thought that the reason behind it was you, a little human who could bring the Olo'eyktan's son to his knees with just a bat of your eye.
tags/warnings: cursing, swearing, childhood friends to lovers, protective!neteyam, misunderstanding, miscommunication
word count: 3,429
yawntutsyìp (n.) darling; little loved one vitraya ramunong (n.) tree of souls
‧₊˚.ೃ ࿐
©nyctophicbtch 2026 — do not copy, repost, or translate
═════════════════════════
The Wind Traders’ routes were tricky. Their travels relied on directions of the wind, and their visits indeterminable. So it was only natural that you were curious. Even now, you never truly grew out of the habit to race headfirst towards the edge of the forest whenever you’d hear the sound of their distinct horn.
So need a part 2 of this!!
You and Jake doing Tsaheylu at night but sometimes instead of you both reliving happy memories or calming each other down like normal people Jake tries to show you human media based entirely off what he can recall, with extremely varied accuracy. It’s fully incorporated into date night. You even have favorites.
neteyam x fem na'vi reader
neteyam as your patient lover
tags: comfort
masterlist
a/n: honestly, this is just me coping srry, was supposed to be steamy but i got sad :( so i'll just do the steamy ver for ao'nung
Neteyam can feel your raging presence before he even sees you. The hanging beads at the entrance of your home swaying aggressively as you step inside, tugging at the woven edges of your hunting attire with so much pressure it might snap in half.
He watches you carefully, setting aside the basket full of fruits placed between his legs, opening his mouth slightly ready to ask you what troubles your clearly irritated mind.
Which might have not been such a good idea.
“Don't you dare say anything,” you spit out, bare eyebrows knit together and your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you recollect what was supposed to be an easy hunt, but turned out to be disaster due to the young Omaticaya warrior that couldn't keep his recklessness at bay.
And so Neteyam stays quiet, approaching your seething figure with cautious steps while you throw the remains of your gear on the floor, right next to your feet, finally reaching for the knife holder looped around your waist.
Neteyam stops you before you can assault the innocent piece of fabric, his hand sitting atop of yours, intertwining your fingers and leading your hand away from the belt to rest limply against your side. Removing the extra clothing himself, leaving you only in your simple top and loincloth.
You sigh in relief, turning to face him with your ears pressed against the sides of your head and eyes filled with regret. Wishing you could take your harsh words back.
He proves time and time again that he knows you better than you even know yourself, as all it takes for your anger to melt away is the feeling of his reassuring presence and a gentle touch, reminding you of the special bond you share.
With a crooked smile plastered across his face, he wipes away the stray tear running down your cheek.
“Would cuddling make my poor mate feel better?” Neteyam asks as his hands come to rest on your cheeks with his fingers slowly tracing the wet skin. You sniffle, nodding your head a few times as more tears escape your tired eyes.
You stumble when you hit the hammock with the back of your legs.
Neteyam settles on top of you, the heavy weight of his strong body comfortably grounding you into the soft blankets laid out underneath you.
And as time passes and the world around you quiets down, you let your favorite boy do what he does the best, completely surrounding you with his endless love.
This is so cute!!
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── super sonic.
⟡ 𑁍ࠬܓsomething about your mate looks different. when you figure out what it is— and steal it, he chases you through the forest.
✶ fem! na’vi reader, sfw, playful neteyam, established mates, fluff, humor, slice of life, neteyam catches you easily because it’s neteyam.
✶ m.list
It’s midday when you fear Eywa’s cursed you— leaving you wondering if you’re going blind when you mistake Neteyam for Lo’ak.
Your mate is crouched down, tending to the fire in the communal base of the kelutral, steady and silent, graceful. As you walk by on your way to the forest, you double take.
He doesn’t notice your presence at first. You stopping to stare at him with narrowed eyes, ears dipping low. He looks…different. You can’t pinpoint it.
Neteyam glances your way as the distance between you vanishes. You circle him, poking his arm, his head. Neteyam laughs, allowing you to continue without complaint.
He’s wearing the same necklace, the same armband—
His braids.
They’re pulled back, wrapped in a cloth tie.
“Something caught your eye, ma sevin?” Neteyam’s voice is full of amusement.
You shift to stand behind Neteyam, who adds more wood to the fire. “Your braids.” The cloth tie is soft when you touch it, hooking your finger underneath, tugging gently. “I thought you were Lo’ak.”
“That is the rudest combination of words to ever spill from your tongue.”
You laugh, a lightbulb going off in your brain. The tie comes apart easily as it’s stolen, and you dance a few steps away from him, dangling the cloth like a prize. “There. Now you are handsome again.”
Neteyam’s smile reveals itself in the way his cheek curves— he thinks he’s subtle. “Give it back.” His voice is dead calm, serious. When he lifts his gaze to meet yours, the playful glint gives him away.
You take a slow step back, grin widening, daring him to follow. “Come get it.”
Neteyam rises to his feet. He doesn’t move, and the air charges between you. He grins. “Run,” he says softly.
Like an ikran, you take flight— feet barely brushing the forest floor as you run. Wind tears through your hair, laughter spilling from your chest as you demand burning legs to move faster.
Neteyam’s footsteps close in, and heat blooms beneath your skin, leaves crunching as they are pulverized. You don’t dare look over your shoulder. It’s a matter of when he catches you, not if.
You live for the split second before he does.
Strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist, and the world tilts as you’re spun in a circle. You gasp, a loud peel of laughter escaping.
Neteyam plants you on your feet, lips warm against your ear as he murmurs—
“Caught you, ma sevin.”
He squeezes you in a tight hug, the thundering of his heart pounding against your spine. “I let you win,” you say, breathless and giddy.
“Yeah?” He traces the sweaty line of your throat with his nose, planting a soft, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder.
“Then run again.”
✶ sevin ; pretty, beautiful.
Tell 'em baby!
Pairing: Jake Sully x toddler!daughter x Neytiri te Tskaha
Warning: none, pure fluff, father daughter moment
Summary: Jake's daughter first hiss. The Sully’s transition from married couple to having their first daughter came with a lot of "firsts," but Jake wasn’t quite prepared for this one.
Jake was sitting in a rock, trying to repair a frayed strap on his harness. Beside him, his young daughter was preoccupied with a very important mission: investigating a gigant ant.
The insect was a vibrant, iridescent creature, scuttling across a fallen log with a sense of self-importance. The toddler reached out a chubby blue finger to poke it, her tail swishing with curiosity.
"Careful, baby girl," Jake murmured, not looking up from his work. "Those things have a little nip to them."
☽ ⋆ ⋅ ──── joy.
❤︎ fem! navi reader, sfw, humor, fluff, slice of life, dad! neteyam cuz i cannot get him out of my head.
⟡ m.list
“Siay,” Neteyam coos sweetly to your son. “Can you say mama?”
Your year and a half old, mini version of Neteyam sits in front of his dad, legs kicking as he squirms. Siay squeals, smacking his chubby little hands against your family hammock. “Mmmmm!” He tries, giggling up at Neteyam.
You’re hiding behind a corner, having yet to announce your return. Both their side profiles are visible, and you watch Neteyam smile with such tenderness your heart stutters.
“Very close son!” He encourages, resting a hand atop Siay’s head. Siay’s ears twitch as he reaches up to search for Neteyam’s hand, clutching his pinky. “Like this, Ma — Ma,” Neteyam sounds out slowly. His hand slides from Siay’s head but your son doesn’t let go.
“Dada!” Siay babbles.
Affection bubbles up in your chest and explodes like a sunburst. Your lips pull into a goofy grin when Siay makes grabby hands at Neteyam, who scoops him up with ease.
Neteyam’s eyes are bright and happy even as he groans. “Not dada Siay, say mama. We want to surprise her when we see her, yes?” He taps Siay on the nose, forcing a giggle from him. Neteyam’s cheeks are promptly squished between tiny hands.
“What are two up to ma yawne?” You ask, slipping out from behind the corner and closing the distance. “It seems like you are having so much fun.”
Neteyam’s head turns, surprise flickering across his face. His ears lower out of reflex, then lift again as his features settle into something happy and soft. “Ma sevin, I did not realize you had returned,” he comments, the words close to being drowned out by Siay’s happy squeal.
“Our son is quite the handful,” you joke. Neteyam rises to meet you, bending to press your foreheads together. He nudges your nose with his, the familiar greeting warm and pleased.
He straightens with a sweet smile, handing off a babbling Siay into your waiting arms. “As much as I love him, I cannot disagree.”
You gasp in fake shock. “Ma stxeli,” you coo at your son, briefly pressing your foreheads together. “Your father said you are a handful! Is that true?”
Neteyam laughs. “You said it first!”
You press your lips together and playfully glare at Neteyam, pretending to be offended, the corners of your mouth curling anyways. “I would never—,”
“Mama!”
You both freeze, attention drawn solely to the baby in your arms. “Mama!” He cries again, chewing on his fist.
You share a look with Neteyam, your gaze warm and full of awe. He mirrors you down to the subtle flicker of your ears. You’re both stunned, both smiling, sharing the joy of a moment you’ve been longing for.
“It seems all your hard work and practice has paid off, ma Neteyam.”
Neteyam gives you a sheepish look, and in an effort to redirect the attention he has Siay say “mama” three more times.
❤︎ yawne : beloved
❤︎ sevin : pretty, beautiful
❤︎ stxeli : gift (used here as my little gift)
𝙃𝙄𝙔𝘼!! ❤
Soft!Bucky slowly warming up to singlemom!Reader's daughter. 😭
He's a little hesitant at first because he doesn't want to replace her father in any way- BUT then there's a daddy-daughter event at school and reader's daughter shyly asks Bucky if he'll go with her 💔💔
His heart does in fact NOT survive. 😭💔
ANYWAYS HAVE A GREAT DAY!
stop my heart!
---------
You never expected him to become part of your life like this.
Bucky was just supposed to be your neighbor—the quiet, broad-shouldered guy with soft smiles and sad eyes who brought your garbage bins up the driveway without ever saying anything, who fixed the squeak in your mailbox just because he “had the tools out anyway.” He wasn’t supposed to become someone you looked for out your kitchen window, or someone your daughter Lilah waved at with shy, excited hands whenever he stepped outside.
And he definitely wasn’t supposed to be someone whose presence made your house feel… safer. Lighter. Like the three of you were tiptoeing toward something no one dared name.
Or, the one where you get free therapy from me
He watches you from the doorway, shoulder pressed against the frame, arms crossed loosely over his chest. You haven’t noticed him yet, too focused on the array of bottles and tubes spread across the bathroom counter, your fingers moving with deliberate care as you pump something clear and viscous into your palm.
The bathroom light catches in your hair, still slightly damp from the shower you actually took this morning. That alone would’ve been enough to make hope bloom warm in his chest, but he stays quiet, doesn’t want to interrupt whatever’s happening here.
You smooth the product across your forehead, down your cheeks, gentle circular motions that he’s seen a hundred times before. Toner. Or maybe that’s the essence? He’s lost track of the order, but he knows the ritual. Knows what it means when you go through all the steps instead of just splashing water on your face and calling it done.
He exhales slowly through his nose, trying to keep the relief from showing too obviously on his face even though you’re not looking at him. The tightness in his shoulders that’s been living there for the past two weeks, starts to ease just slightly.
You reach for another bottle. Serum, probably. The one that cost more than it should have but that you’d put in the cart anyway, back when things were good. Back before your brain decided to pull the chemical rug out from under you and send you spiraling into that gray space where nothing felt right and everything felt like too much.
“You don’t have to watch me like I’m going to disappear,” you say without turning around, and there’s something in your voice that wasn’t there yesterday. Something lighter. Not quite humor, but adjacent to it.
He huffs a quiet laugh, caught. “Can’t help it.”
“Creep.” But you’re almost smiling, he can hear it.
“Guilty.” He doesn’t move from the doorway though. Doesn’t want to crowd you when you’re finally, finally doing this for yourself again.
You pat the serum into your skin with your fingertips, that gentle pressing motion you’d tried to explain to him once. Something about absorption and circulation. He’d been more focused on the way your eyes had lit up when you talked about it, the way your hands had moved with purpose and certainty.
The same way they’re moving now.
You catch his eye in the mirror as you reach for your moisturizer. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. “What am I thinking?”
“That I’m getting better.” You unscrew the lid, scoop out a small amount. “That the worst of it is over.”
He doesn’t deny it. Can’t.
You’re quiet for a moment, working the cream into your skin with those same careful circles. “It’s ridiculous, you know. You go out there and actually face things that could kill you, and I’m over here barely able to get out of bed because my brain forgot how to make the happy chemicals.”
There it is. That thing you always say, like your pain is somehow less valid than his. Like suffering can be ranked and measured and yours comes up short because it doesn’t involve flesh wounds or blood.
“Don’t do that,” he says, and his voice comes out rougher than he intends.
You meet his eyes in the mirror again. “Do what?”
“Compare. Like there’s a hierarchy of hurt.” He shifts his weight, arms tightening slightly across his chest. “You think I’d rather see you bleeding or broken because at least then there’d be something I could physically fix?”
Your hands still on the counter. “That’s not- ”
“It is.” He pushes off the doorframe, takes a single step closer. Still giving you space, but closing the distance just enough. “You do it every time. Apologize for something you can’t control, like your brain chemistry is somehow less real than a combat wound.”
You’re quiet, fingers resting on the edge of the sink. He can see the war happening behind your eyes, the part of you that wants to argue, wants to minimize, wants to make yourself smaller so you take up less space in his worry.
He won’t let you.
“I see you fighting,” he says, softer now. “Every day you get up even when everything in you says to stay down. Every time you force yourself to eat something, take your meds, respond to a text. You think that’s not brave?”
Your throat works as you swallow. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels pathetic.”
“Well, it’s not.” His jaw tightens. “And watching you stand here doing your skincare routine, taking care of yourself again… you have no idea what that does to me.”
You turn to look at him properly now, forgetting the makeup brushes waiting on the counter. Your eyes are clearer than they’ve been in days, but there’s still that fragility there. That rawness.
“I hate that you have to watch me go through this,” you whisper.
“I hate that you have to go through it at all,” he counters. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not when it’s bad, not when it’s good, not when you’re somewhere in between.”
You breathe in slowly, and he mirrors it without thinking. One of those unconscious synchronizations that happens when you’ve spent enough time learning someone’s rhythms.
“I’m not all the way back yet,” you say, and it sounds like a warning. Like you’re afraid he’s going to be disappointed when he realizes you’re not magically fixed.
“I know.” He nods toward the counter, at the neat rows of products you’re actually using again. “But you’re here. You showered. You’re doing the whole…” He gestures vaguely at your face. “The thing with all the steps.”
“The twelve step Korean skincare routine,” you supply, and there’s definitely a hint of amusement there now.
“That.” The corner of his mouth ticks up. “So yeah, I’m watching. Because I know what it means. And I’m letting myself breathe a little easier.”
You study him for a long moment, and he lets you see it: the relief, the lingering worry, the love that doesn’t know how to exist in moderation. All of it.
Finally, you reach for your primer. “Will you stay? While I finish?”
He’s already settling onto the closed toilet lid before you finish asking. “Where else would I be?”
Call of Duty: John Price, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Alex Keller
DCU: Jason Todd/Red Hood, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Roy Harper/Arsenal, Bruce Wayne/Batman, Clark Kent/Superman
Marvel: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson/Falcon, Matt Murdock/Daredevil, Steve Rogers/Captain America, Clint Barton/Hawkeye
Supernatural: Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer, Benny Lafitte
MHA: Shoto Aizawa/Eraserhead, Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima, Toshinori Yagi/All Might, Present Mic,
Jujutsu Kaisen: Kento Nanami, Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori, Choso, Yuta Okkotsu
Naruto: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Itachi Uchiha
squeak-squeak !
bucky barnes x clumsy!bounty hunter!reader
summary. your squeaky boots gets the attention of your broody neighbour at the worst possible time. 1.2k words
cw. injured reader but it's not that bad
a/n. part of @artficlly's spin the trope event! thank you for letting me participate <3 bounty hunter + neighbour trope
dt. art herself, @jamesb444 <3
the walls in your apartment building are paper thin. you know this because you can hear your neighbour's alarm go off at 5 am sharp every morning. you can hear the classic rock playlist on tuesdays and thursdays. and you're pretty sure you can hear his breathing sometimes through the plaster too.
he's quiet, keeps to himself. he has blue eyes and a metal arm that he doesn't bother to hide. you've seen him carrying groceries, a sick pack beer, and once, a tiny kitten he'd rescued from the dumpster. his name is bucky, according to the mail slot.
your lives are parallel lines, never met to intersect. until they do.
The Last Match - Part I
Summary: Your Friend made a Hinge Profile for you. You’ve only matched w/ duds so far. You just matched with a Super Cute Guy named Bucky. One Way or Another This 1st Date Will Be Your Last
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+, Language, Canon Divergence, BIPOC Reader, Reader has Curly Hair (Type 3a-4c), Dating Apps
Word Count: 2.84k
A/N: Set Pre-TFATWS & is inspired by TFATWS Ep. 1 where Bucky admits to trying online dating. (Please feel free to comment and reblog)
x Reader Abbreviations: YN = Your name YHC = Your hair color YEC = Your eye color YBFN = Your best friend's name
You’d deleted and redownloaded dating apps so many times your phone probably thought it was a game. After getting snapped and returning five years later, you figured online dating would be easier. Everyone was still weird about meeting in person (you included), but honestly, you refused to meet your soulmate in some cliché place like a bookstore or coffee shop.
But then last month, YBFN begged you to try again because she’d met her boo online, and you caved. Promised her one last shot. Big mistake.
Some matches saw being with you as a bucket list item; others just talked about what they disliked about girls from your background. One got angry when you politely refused to put out on the first date, and another accused you of catfishing, even though they’d clearly edited their pics to look more toned.
You just didn’t have it in you to go on anymore. Maybe you’d meet someone down the road, maybe not. You didn’t even care anymore.
When your YBFN showed up at your place on a Saturday night, she nearly had a meltdown at the sight of you clad in a stained shirt and old sweatpants, lying on your sofa, enjoying your favorite snack, watching reality TV.
She made one last plea. You’d let her pick out a guy for you. Just one, and if you actually went on a date with him, she’d leave you alone about it once and for all. You felt like a pushover, eventually relenting, handing over your phone.
It took her three hours before she finally swiped right on someone’s profile. And now it was a waiting game. Surprisingly, the guy she chose matched with you in less than a minute. She held your phone so you could see his profile. He was pretty good-looking. Sharp jawline, thick brown hair, and the prettiest ocean blue eyes.
“He’s kinda cute,” you said, trying to hide your blush.
“ Oh, hon, he’s not just cute, he’s a full course meal, with puppy dog eyes, and on top of that, he’s 6 0 ft tall.”
You rolled your eyes, “ Height doesn’t matter.”
“ Yeah, but it doesn’t hurt. Oh, and he’s funny too.”
“ What do you mean?”
“ Under age, he put 106,” she said with a giggle.
“ You're not serious,” you said, snatching your phone back.
But you were met with Bucky’s age, which was 106.
“ That’s a weird joke to make. Maybe he’s one of the big three,” you started pacing, trying to remember if you’d seen him on a news outlet or social media.
Your pacing ceased when your friend practically screeched, “ Aha, I found him.
“ Jeez, that fast.”
“ Yup. He isn’t on any socials, so I google image searched him. And got a match. James Buchanan Barnes. I guess Bucky from his middle name. And it looks like he was Captain America’s best friend, and ooh, apparently was an assassin for the organization, Hydra.”
“ Okay, slow down, let me see that,” you said, taking her phone from her, swiping down to see all the info she’d found on the web.
And what she said was true, and there was even more information. He was snapped just like you were; he fought in WWII, he was pardoned for his past crimes, was brainwashed, became a hero, and fought against Thanos. This man was a full-on legend.
“ Okay. Why the hell would an honorary Avenger swipe right on me? I’m a nobody.”
“ First of all, you aren’t a nobody. You're pretty, smart, sometimes funny, you have a cool ass job, and any guy would be lucky to have you. Even a super sexy 6 ‘0 tall honorary Avenger
“ Now he just asked if you wanted to grab lunch sometime. And you’re going to say yes, you’ll be flirty with your messages to him, and I’ll help you get ready for your date which I’d suggest it’s being next week, that’ll give you some time to prepare yourself, and for me to get everything I need to get you first date ready?”
“ Yeah, um, why exactly do I need your help getting ready for this date?”
“ Because this is your last online dating match and I’m going to do everything in my damn power to make it go as well as possible.”
*************************************************
That week, you and Bucky talked here and there. It was pretty clear that he was avoiding talking about his life. Your conversations tended to drift to the weather, your favorite foods and movies, the news, and your job. Honestly if you didn’t know who he was you probably would’ve ghosted him.
The chattiest conversation you two had was on Wednesday. He went into detail about some of the events that happened while he was out having his weekly lunch with an older guy(probably still younger than him) named Yuri. That was also the day you asked if he wanted to exchange numbers so you wouldn’t be dependent on the app’s messages.
Bucky said he was down, but he preferred to text you first. So you sent him your number, and much to your slight embarrassment, you were practically biting your nails waiting for him to text you. And when he did, you nearly dropped your damn phone.
Hey,
It’s Bucky. Hopefully, this is the right number.
Reply when you get the chance.
You were smiling at the almost letter-like way he texted you.
Hiii
It’s YN, so u got my # right.
Imma lock your # in
You were trying to be a little flirty like your bestie advised, but you weren’t sure you were doing it right. Regardless, you guys chatted for a bit before he let you know that he had some work stuff to handle and he wouldn’t be able to talk for the next couple of days. But he swore he’d be available for your date on Saturday, and he was excited.
You guys agreed on pizza and maybe a walk. It would be pretty chill and relaxing. And you were starting to get excited, too, but you did your best to keep yourself busy. For all you knew, he was planning on standing you up and was just soft ghosting you.
You called your friend and voiced your worries, but she pretty much told you it’d be better for your emotional well-being to give him the benefit of the doubt, before you heard her boyfriend start kissing her, and you nearly gagged after ending the call.
*************************************************
When you woke up Saturday morning you still hadn’t heard anything from Bucky. So you immediately buried your face in your pillows, planning on sleeping in. Unfortunately, your rem cycle was interrupted by YBFN banging on your front door like the FBI.
“ Okay!! Okay!! I’m coming!!”
You stomped your way to your front door, yanking it open, ready to cuss out your friend. You were shocked by the sight of her holding a full duffel bag in her arms.
“ I’m sorry for knocking like a cop. But this shit was starting to get heavy. You look like shit. Shouldn’t you be glowing with excitement?”
“ Maybe I would be if I’d heard anything from Bucky for the last two days, but I haven’t, so now you're interrupting my ‘ I just got ghosted’ nap, so you can leave now.”
“ Absolutely not. I’m here to doll you up whether for the date you had planned this afternoon or if I need to be your wingwoman at a bar tonight. ‘Kay? Now go get into the shower. Oh, and here,” she looked almost disappointed as she handed you a packet of razors.
You were about to protest when she said, “ Don’t even. I already know. Tighten that up.”
You ended up shaved, wearing the least offensive outfit she’d offered you, and letting her style your hair using Pomegranate & Honey Leave-In Conditioner, some Coil Sculpting Custard, and her favorite diffuser.
She was in the middle of doing your eye makeup in order to highlight your YEC eyes when your phone rang. You picked it up, surprised that Bucky was calling you.
“ It’s him,” you whispered breathlessly.
“ Answer it, dufus.”
“ Hey, Buck,” you said as evenly as possible.
You could’ve sworn you could actually hear his smile at your use of that nickname.
“ Look I’m so sorry for going radio silent on you. But I’m hoping you’re still interested in our date.”
“ Are you still interested?”
“ Oh yeah. I’m absolutely still interested.”
“ Well then, I am too. I’ll see you later today.”
Your heart was beating like a hummingbird once you ended the call.
And then you looked up, already hated the ‘I told you so’ look on your friend’s face.
“ I set my bestie up with an Avenger,” she said in a sing-songy voice.
*************************************************
You two walked from your place to the pizza joint. Your friend promised to stay around the area for at least 10 minutes to make sure you didn’t get kidnapped and murdered.
“ Look, I know he was brainwashed, but an ex-assassin is still an ex-assassin,” she said, grabbing your shoulders.
“ You’re not being fair. Not only was he pardoned, but he also saved the world. He’s a hero and heroes don’t kidnap and murder people… at least people that don’t deserve it.”
“ Mmmhmm. You love him.”
“ I do not, I haven’t even officially met him yet.”
“ Regardless, you're already defending him from my judgment. And not a second too soon, cause we’re here.”
“ Well, help me find him. He said he’d be wearing a black— ”
“ I’m gonna go out on a limb and say he’s the dude next standing next to the door, dressed in all black, holding a bouquet of flowers, with extremely conspicuous leather gloves.”
Shit. He was way finer than you’d thought. His profile pictures did not do him justice. Yeah, no, you couldn’t do this. There was no way that a god of a man was interested in you. You had literally turned around when your bestie stopped you, hooking your arm in hers.
“ Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“ I’m going home. Clearly, this is some kind of joke, and I’m not going over there to be embarrassed.”
“ Now wait a minute. You’re—”
“ — I know you think I’m a catch, which is utter bullshit. Let’s go home.”
“ Absolutely not. Even if you don’t believe in yourself, like I do. That man is by himself, standing awkwardly next to a pizza shop, waiting for you with flowers. You’d be the most cowardly bitch if you left him hanging like this.”
“ Welp. I am a cowardly bitch let’s g—”
You were cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. You were trying to dig your phone out of your purse, hoping to hit ignore. Unfortunately, whatever super soldier serum Bucky had came with hearing like a bat. It took about 10 seconds for his head to turn to you, and when he saw you, he beamed.
Your anxiety dissipated because the only thought filling your mind, body, and soul was, “I’m gonna marry this man.”
You’d barely finished that thought when Bucky was standing in front of you.
“ I thought I only had to buy flowers from one girl. Is this one of those, uh, throuple situations?”
Your friend chuckled nervously, “No, this is absolutely not that kind of situation. I’m YBFN , YN’s best friend. I’m here to make sure you’re not a serial killer. You’re not. You’re Bucky Barnes, former Winter Soldier, current Avenger, so she’s good. YN, hon, don’t you dare let this date end without a goodnight kiss. Enjoy your afternoon,” she said, curtsying before jogging away.
You finally realized that she’d had no intention of staying to watch out for you like she'd said she would.
You gave Bucky a small smile, “ Um, so are those for me, or do you have a very close relationship with the owner?”
He laughed awkwardly, “ They’re for you. Now that you’re here, I wish I’d asked what your favorite flowers are.”
“ I’m grateful for flowers of any kind. But my favorite are tulips.”
“ I’ll remember that for next time.”
“ Now wait a minute, let’s get through this first date before we start talkin’ our next one, Sarge.”
“ Sarge, huh? So your friend really did look me up then?” He looked a little nervous, rubbing his right hand behind his neck.
“ So you clearly haven’t been using dating apps for very long. I can guarantee about 99% of women basically turn into FBI agents to do research on their dates before the date.”
You grabbed his hand. “ Now let’s see if we can get the owner of this place to give you an early bird discount.”
You were beyond relieved when he laughed, seemingly thinking you were funny, or at the very least, that your dorkiness was charming.
*************************************************
Bella Luna Slice Shack’s pizza had officially made it onto your top ten list. You couldn’t even pretend the guy sitting across from you wasn’t part of the reason.
You both ended up opening up way more than you expected. It only took him spilling water all over your lap and you getting enough pizza sauce on your face that he had to wipe it off for you. Not your most graceful moment, but he didn’t seem to mind.
You loved hearing about his time in Wakanda and what he liked about current pop culture. And he seemed to enjoy talking to you about how and when you grew up. You shared a laugh when comparing your ages during high-stakes events like The Battle of New York.
You even talked about tougher subjects, like being one of the many victims of the Westview Anomaly and what his life was like while on the run in Bucharest. You were surprised at how both of you were able to find some good moments in those darker times.
A few hours had passed, and neither of you wanted the afternoon to end. You both were trying to find an excuse to prolong your date for a few minutes when you blurted out, “ Do you like arcades?”
“ Uh, yeah. I haven’t been to one in a while, but they're pretty cool.”
“ Okay, great. I know one that’s pretty close by. We could go over there. I mean, if you’re not too busy.”
“ I think I can squeeze in some time kicking your ass at skeeball.”
“ Oh, really,” you said, raising your eyebrow. “Well, come on then, tough guy. Let’s see what you got.”
He did, in fact, beat you at skeeball, not once, not twice, but four times. The good news is that you bruised his ego a bit when you scored nearly two times the baskets he did when you went head-to-head at the arcade’s basketball game. He made your ovaries hurt when he lifted some kids up his metal arm.
You guys were checking out the photos you took together in the arcade’s Photo Booth when you yawned.
“Hmmm, seems like someone’s tired,” Bucky said playfully.
“Yeah, I guess I am. Are you ready to go?”
“ Yeah, I won’t lie, some of these animatronic characters are creepy,” he whispered that last part into your ear, making you shiver.
“ Would you mind walking me home, Buck?”
“ I never planned on not walking you home.”
“ Your chivalry is refreshing.”
“ Hey, you can take the man out of the 40s, but not the 40s out of the man.”
You giggled, causing him to give you a crooked smile in response before leading you outside.
You enjoyed walking with Bucky’s now gloveless right hand in yours. Bucky made sure that you were inside the sidewalk at all times. You blushed when he grabbed you by the hips at one point.
When you got to your place, you seriously considered inviting him in, but that felt like too much for a first date. But then you flashed back to what YBFN said earlier: Don’t you dare let this date end without a goodnight kiss.
“Buck?”
“ Yeah.”
“ Can I… would you be alright if I kissed you?”
Instead of an answer, Bucky delicately took your face in his flesh hand, lifting your face up, so he could put his lips on your.
It was amazing. His lips were a lot softer than you would’ve thought. And his breath tasted like the ice cream sundae you shared at the arcade. You wouldn’t have ever let the kiss end, but then you had to step away to breathe.
“Whoa,” you said, panting.
“ Yeah. Whoa.”
“ Good night, sweetheart.”
“ Goodnight, Bucky.”
He stood next to you as you unlocked your door, and once the door was open, you quickly kissed him on the cheek before making your way inside.
It was less than ten minutes when Bucky sent you a text.
FYI
When you ask to kiss me
My answer will always be
Yes!!
And that right there was the perfect end to what was the best date of your life. So when you finally allowed yourself to delete your dating app accounts, you did it with a Cheshire cat smile rather than the tears you were expecting before tonight.
BROKEN BALLERINA
summary ۶ৎ in which, a tragic incident dictates an end to your career in dancing, falling off the pedestal you were placed upon. luckily, with arms that cradle you soothingly, bucky’s there to catch you.
warnings ۶ৎ 18+ content/mdni, hurt/comfort, ex!bucky, broken limb, tiny mention of strict diet, tiny mention of physical exertion, mention of mutual relationship neglect, reader having a sense of hopelessness, pet name ( sweetheart ), no use of y/n.
a/n ۶ৎ an anniversary of something for me is coming soon and i needed to channel my emotions into something, hence this. anyhoo, i hope everyone’s doing well <3
word count ۶ৎ 2k | divider creds ۶ৎ @/enchanthings
The weight of your foot slumped against the polished flooring is cumbersome, as though slabs of concrete have collapsed upon it, fracturing your bones into minuscule pieces and creating a mountain of sharp failure. You were once graceful. A feather would scoff in jealousy from the lightness you exceeded spectacularly. Floating high and landing with a soft firmness that evoked no sound amongst the in-sync orchestra, but impacted your movements.
A delicacy you can no longer master with the orthopaedic boot latched on.
Hi! Saw your post about matchups and wanted to request one with a man from the MCU fandom. I'm generally on the quiet side until I'm comfortable, but I've been told I come across more as intimidating rather than shy (even though I'm very petite). I work in the literary field, and I'm a sucker for the "civilian reader with a really soft desk job being with a badass partner" and the "grumpy but not with her" tropes. I am yet to be in a relationship (oops) because I've been really focused on my studies/career & the guys I've met never felt right for me, but I'm very loving with friends and tend to give friendships my all!
Hi lovely ♡
I adore a ‘civilian with a soft job falls for the badass’ dynamic; there’s just something so romantically balanced about it! Your energy is refined but quietly fierce, and that contrast deserves a partner who appreciates strength in stillness.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You give first impressions that are all control and composure, a literary mind wrapped in quiet observation. People read you as intimidating because you don’t rush to fill silences; you listen, you weigh your words, and you move with purpose. Beneath that, though, is warmth, loyalty that burns low and steady, affection that shows up through consistency.
You’d need someone grounded enough to match your calm but blunt enough to slice through it when you hide behind it. Someone who doesn’t mistake your quiet for fragility. A partner who protects without condescending, who finds it endearing that the person they come home to smells like ink and paper instead of gunpowder.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
You pair with – ♡ Bucky Barnes ♡
– You meet because of work. You’re proofreading memoir pieces for a veteran-run nonprofit when one of the submissions lands on your desk. The writing is clean but hesitant, under an alias that turns out to be his. When he shows up at the office to discuss revisions, you expect someone older, rougher. Instead, he’s quiet, broad-shouldered, and he seems like he’s subconsciously apologising for even being here.
– At first, he answers every question like it’s a test. You’re gentle but insistent: “Tell me what you meant here.” It startles him, being asked, not ordered. The next meeting, he brings coffee. He says he had to guess your order (he got it right).
– It takes time, but he starts coming by even when there’s no draft to go over. Sometimes he reads while you edit; sometimes he just sits with his feet propped up on the edge of your desk, boots leaving scuffs you pretend to scold him for.
– The first time he rests his metal hand near yours, he waits for recoil that never comes, half-expecting the usual flicker of discomfort, the tiny recoil he’s learned to anticipate. You just keep talking, calm and steady, fingers brushing close enough that the metal catches the warmth from your skin.
– The intimidation thing? He loves it. He finds your composure grounding. You reach across the chaos of his world and hand him peace without asking him to earn it. In turn, he treats your gentleness like something sacred.
– He’s all muscle and a hard face to everyone else, but with you, it’s coffee runs and shared earbuds and a hand at the small of your back when the subway crowd gets too thick. The look he gives anyone who jostles you could level a building.
– At home you just exist together, you editing quietly while he cleans his weapons or scrolls through articles you’ve recommended. You don’t talk much; you just exist near each other, and it’s enough.
– He never laughs loudly, but he smiles easily around you. When you tease him about his stoicism, he grins. You tell him he’s still terrifying to everyone else; he laughs, looking pleased.
– You worry about being too career-focused, but he admires it. Bucky’s spent years trying to rebuild himself; watching you chase what you love reminds him what living looks like.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
I loved writing this one!
You and Bucky are what happens when chaos finally finds its anchor, the soldier and the storyteller, meeting halfway between noise and quiet, learning that peace can be just as brave as survival ✧°
Omg ok I'm the person who requested this, and I'm like giggling and kicking my feet rn??☺️🤭 thank you for putting so much effort into this! And like hello?? Did you just find out my dream type? Protective but not condescending AND supports my career? Perfection.
bucky x ocd reader? (like during an episode)
ocd is my biggest opp. i need it to leave me along
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The kettle’s been on for too long.
You know that. You know that—can see the numbers on the clock, can hear the little click it made when it boiled, but you can’t turn away from the sink. Not yet. The rhythm of your hands under the water is the only thing keeping your heart from tearing itself apart in your chest.
Aquarium Day
Bucky Barnes x Reader
(it's technically Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Congresswoman!Reader, but congress kinda doesn't matter here. Also, reader can be gender neutral as there is no use of gendered pronouns)
Summary: it's a fluffy aquarium date! married but still dating relationship dynamics
Warnings/ tags: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, aquarium nerdiness, some ocs, no use of y/n
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: happy first tuesday in november ;)
off the record masterpost || AO3 || congressman bucky masterpost
Technically, it’s district travel. Emotionally, it’s a date.
You’re both post-chaos – post-crisis, post-subcommittee, post-marriage – and somewhere between how was your security briefing and did we remember to buy bread, one of you mutters, “We should go do something. Just us.”
Not a gala. Not a covert op. Definitely not a press thing.
So you go to the aquarium. Because it’s quiet, controlled, beautiful.
And because Bucky says, low and unguarded: “…Fish are kinda cute.”
Hi! I would love bucky finding a 3 year old
Baby girl at hydra. The second he sees her he falls in love and vice versa. He the only person she trust to get her out of hydra. Just dad bucky struggling through raising her. Maybe the first night he trys to put her to bed and she only wants to be where he is so she won't stay. Bonus if he some how falls in love with same through it all. 😚😚😚 love your writing!!!
so cutee
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He almost didn’t see her.
Hydra’s base burned around him—flames and smoke curling through the corridors like serpents—as he tore through the last of the guards. His blood was hot with adrenaline, the roar of gunfire still echoing in his ears. Then he heard it: a sound so small it cut through everything.
A hiccup. A muffled cry.