#avengers tower

[sibmakesart]

+ very much not morning people

[vyynn]

Tony "I have better things to do" Stark who immediately adopts a dog because he overheard Peter saying that he had always wanted to raise one.

Bucky "Get this kid out of here" Barnes who immediately drags Peter into the gym because he saw Peter get hurt and wants to teach him better self defense techniques.

Steve "I have no time for this" Rogers who goes to Peter's report card day whenever Aunt May or Tony are busy. (He secretly gets happy when Peter asks him to go)

Natasha "I don't need this relationship" Romanoff who spoils and treats Peter like he's her kid because she won't ever be able to have her own.

Bruce "I don't have the patience" Banner who drops everything and anything whenever he finds out that Peter is injured. (He patiently listens to Peter's rambling while he's treating him)

Thor "Who do you think you are" Odinson who treats Peter like a little brother because he reminds him of Loki's clumsy personality when they were kids.

Clint "I don't need another kid" Barton who plays catch with Peter at 5:30 pm when he has to stay in the tower for a long time because that's the time he plays with his kids.

finally a long one cause I was inactive for a few days, hope you guys enjoy♡

P.S - made a TikTok account to post edits! Please check it out, xoxo

[trainer-from-unova]

[cassiemaebarnes]

Shoulder to Lean On

Bucky x reader

Summary: When you fall asleep with your head resting on Bucky's metal arm, he starts to realize he's not just a weapon.

Word Count: 1,878

Steve insisted that the group do a team bonding activity, something about not spending enough time together outside of missions.

Which is how you ended up here, on the couch, squished between Bucky and Nat while everyone argued about which movie to watch.

It’s not that you didn’t like the idea of a movie night – you loved watching movies. You were just getting a little overwhelmed with everyone around you yelling, your shoulder awkwardly pressing against Bucky’s metal one, and it was clear Bucky wanted to be anywhere but here, leaning as far away from you as he could.

You and Bucky didn’t interact much, but he didn’t really talk to anyone much other than Steve. You just shared quick greetings and awkward small talk if you were alone in a room together.

So being this close to him for a few hours was going to be interesting.

But when the others finally settled down and decided on a movie, Nat leaned against the other side of the couch, allowing you to shift away from Bucky, just enough so you weren’t touching anymore.

They had picked a fairly new action movie, one you’d seen once before, so you were half-paying attention and half-zoned out.

You didn’t even realize when your eyes started to flutter shut as your body slowly shifted to the side.

Before you knew it, you were asleep – with your head slowly falling against Bucky’s metal shoulder.

--

Bucky stiffened the second he felt her head drift onto his shoulder, her weight light but unmistakable. His spine went straight, eyes wide as if someone had yanked him into a mission briefing without warning.

Of all the places she could’ve leaned – why the metal arm?

The chill of the vibranium pressed against her cheek, and yet…she didn’t flinch. She didn’t move away. She even sighed, soft and content, like this was the most natural thing in the world. His chest tightened.

He stared straight ahead, muscles locked, jaw clenched. His instinct screamed at him to shift, to move her gently off him before she noticed what she’d done. He hated this part – this reminder of what he was made of. What had been done to him. People didn’t lean on weapons. They avoided them.

But then…he glanced down.

She was completely at ease, her features relaxed, lips slightly parted in sleep. One hand curled loosely in her lap, the other resting near his thigh but not touching. There was no hesitation in her body, no discomfort in her expression. Just peace.

She trusted him.

His heart thudded heavily, each beat slowing with the realization. She knew what his arm was, and she’d still fallen asleep against it. Against him.

He swallowed, unsure of what to do. He let out a slow, silent breath, careful not to disturb her, and leaned back just a little more into the couch cushion, letting himself settle.

Maybe he’d let her stay there a while longer.

A few minutes passed before Sam noticed.

He leaned forward from where he sat on the floor and blinked. “Wait a second – am I seeing this right?” he whispered loudly, elbowing Clint.

Clint turned, squinting in the low light. His grin spread instantly. “Holy crap. Is she – yeah, she’s definitely asleep on Bucky.”

Steve looked over and raised an eyebrow. “And Bucky’s letting her?”

Nat craned her neck and smirked. “Not just letting – he’s not moving a muscle. He’s frozen.”

“That’s because he’s malfunctioning,” Tony deadpanned, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Someone call Wakanda, his arm’s about to short-circuit.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but didn’t move. “She’s asleep,” he muttered, voice low.

“On your shoulder,” Sam pointed out, grinning like a kid at Christmas. “You normally flinch if someone breathes in your direction.”

“She’s different,” Clint stage-whispered dramatically. “The Winter Soldier has a soft spot.”

Steve chuckled, clearly enjoying this a little too much. “You okay there, Buck?”

Bucky glanced down at you again, then shrugged one shoulder carefully – not the one you were leaning on. “She’s comfortable,” he said simply. “Didn’t wanna wake her.”

But deep down, under the teasing and the smirks and the popcorn being flicked at his head, he wasn’t actually all that bothered.

In fact, he kind of liked it.

--

The credits rolled slowly up the screen as the final soundtrack played out, and one by one, the team began shifting and standing.

Nat stretched and cracked her neck. “Well, that was two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”

“Better than Clint’s last pick,” Sam muttered, brushing popcorn off his pants.

“You said you liked Mamma Mia!” Clint shot back, scandalized.

Voices layered over each other, shoes scuffed the floor, and someone knocked over an empty cup. The volume in the room rose steadily – but Bucky didn’t move an inch.

Still sitting ramrod straight on the couch, still letting you lean against his metal arm. His jaw tightened slightly as Steve glanced at him again with a knowing smile.

“You gonna stay like that all night, Buck?”

“Yeah,” Clint chimed in. “We should take bets – think she drooled on the vibranium?”

“I’m offended,” Tony said, pointing dramatically. “That arm was designed for stealth, precision, and battlefield dominance – not as a sleep aid.”

“Maybe it’s multifunctional,” Nat deadpanned, crossing her arms.

Bucky just huffed quietly, refusing to take the bait. “She’s still sleeping.”

“Not for long,” Steve murmured, just as your lashes fluttered.

Your body shifted slightly, and your head lifted off his shoulder as you blinked, disoriented. Your hair was mussed, a crease on your cheek from the ridges of his arm, faint but obvious. You squinted around at the group, half-asleep, voice groggy.

“…What’s going on?”

Clint snorted. “Sleeping Beauty returns.”

“You fell asleep on Bucky’s shoulder,” Sam said, clearly enjoying this way too much.

You paused, and then your eyes widened slightly as you slowly sat up straighter, fingers brushing at your cheek as if trying to smooth away the sleep marks. You didn’t say anything at first, just turned to Bucky – who still hadn’t moved – and gave him a sheepish look.

“Sorry,” you said softly, voice laced with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said quickly, quietly. “Really.”

Something in his tone made you glance at him a little longer than necessary, but before either of you could say anything else, the teasing resumed.

“Look at him,” Sam grinned. “Protective mode activated.”

“This is my favorite team bonding night ever,” Clint said, not even trying to hide his laughter.

“Should we get matching blankets for them next time?” Tony added.

Bucky groaned and ran a hand down his face, but there was no bite behind it. You, now wide awake and thoroughly flustered, could only shake your head as Nat leaned in to whisper, “For what it’s worth, he didn’t move a single inch the whole movie.”

Your face burned, but a small, surprised smile tugged at your lips anyway.

The others slowly filed out of the room, still snickering and tossing back comments as they went.

“Get some rest, lovebirds,” Tony called, tossing a final wink over his shoulder.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Clint added before Steve finally ushered the stragglers out with a tired shake of his head.

You stood up slowly, rubbing your eyes and letting out a quiet yawn. The creak of the couch cushions behind you told you Bucky had gotten up too. You turned back slightly, surprised he hadn’t made a beeline for the exit like he usually did after group events.

You hesitated for a second, then smiled as you looked up at him. “Thanks,” you said lightly, your voice a little shy but warm. “For, y’know…letting me fall asleep on you.” You let out a small laugh, a bit self-conscious. “Didn’t mean to use your shoulder as a pillow.”

Bucky shrugged, hands in his pockets, a flicker of something soft in his eyes. “No problem,” he said. “Just didn’t wanna wake you.”

His gaze flicked to your cheek, and his brow furrowed a little. “Did it hurt? The arm, I mean.”

You blinked, then instinctively reached up and touched your cheek, feeling the faint ridges the metal had left behind. You laughed again, this time more genuinely.

“No, not at all,” you said, still smiling. “It was actually…really comfortable.”

His eyes widened slightly, just for a second.

“I usually can’t fall asleep sitting up like that,” you continued, dropping your hand and meeting his gaze. “But I guess it was comfortable enough to stay asleep, huh?”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh – more like a breath of disbelief – and looked away for a second, trying (and failing) not to let the corner of his mouth pull up into a smile.

People didn’t say things like that. Not about that part of him.

“That’s good,” he said, voice low and sincere. “I’m glad.”

And he was. More than he could say out loud.

You stepped out into the hallway together, the soft hum of the tower’s lights overhead filling the quiet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Bucky walked just half a step behind you, hands tucked in the pockets of his sweats, eyes flicking to you every so often but never quite landing. You toyed with the sleeve of your hoodie, not really sure what to say either. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable exactly – just full of a weird mix of lingering embarrassment and…something else. Something new.

You were halfway down the hall when you glanced at him and said lightly, “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t shove me off the couch.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I thought about it.”

You laughed, nudging him gently with your elbow, this time intentionally bumping into his metal arm. “Wow. Honored.”

“That was before you started snoring,” he added deadpan, but there was a playful glint in his eyes.

Your jaw dropped. “I did not snore.”

“I didn’t say it was loud,” he said with a straight face, “just a little pathetic.”

You gasped, swatting his arm with a laugh, and he chuckled – actually chuckled – like the sound surprised even him.

By the time you reached your door, both of you were still smiling, the awkwardness from earlier fading into something easier.

You stopped and turned to face him, hand resting on the doorknob.

“Really, though,” you said, voice softer now. “Thanks again. I…I don’t usually let myself fall asleep around people.” You hesitated, then added with a slight shrug, “But I guess I felt safe.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. His expression flickered – surprise, warmth, something quietly vulnerable.

He cleared his throat and glanced away for a second. “It was nothing,” he said, brushing it off with the same calm tone he used earlier. “You were tired.”

You smiled again, this one gentler. “Still. Thanks.”

He looked back at you then, and the space between you shifted – not charged, not heavy. Just full of something simple. Honest.

“Goodnight,” you said softly.

“‘Night,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting.

And with that, you slipped into your room, the door closing quietly behind you.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the wood grain, before finally turning and walking back down the hall – still not quite sure why he was smiling.

--

Masterlist

Bucky Taglist: @winchestert101 @herejustforbuckybarnes @avengemepercy @buckyslove1917 @nelachu2423 @iyskgd @navs-bhat @starstruckfirecat @yes-ilovetowrite

[em1i2a3]

i don’t know if you take requests but some yearning or very obvious bob having a crush on reader… like full on fluff and everyone makes fun of him cause he’s just that obvious

Plainclothes Man

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone at the compound knows Bob has a massive crush on you–except you.

Warnings: Semi-Spoiler for Thunderbolts because of Bob’s involvement but other than that…None :)

Author's Note: Hey y’all! I do take requests! Just to make that clear! Nothing is really off limits! :) I love this idea! So I thought I would start with it. I kind of rushed it a bit because I have so many ideas going at once for Bob right now, but I wanted to please y’all so hopefully it’s good :)

Word Count: 1,775

Bob was a neon sign of romantic agony.

Everyone could see it.

He was about as subtle as a firework in a library when it came to you, and everyone–everyone but you–knew that he had very obvious feelings for you.

At first, it was just the little things. He would hold the door open for you, make your coffee in the morning, and sometimes he would walk you to your training sessions carrying all your weapons and gear. God forbid you mentioned needing help with something too, because it was like he teleported into the room instantly just to be your knight in shining armor.

It would’ve been sweet–it was sweet–except for the fact that he looked like he was going to pass out every time you smiled at him, or the fact that the first time you touched him he felt like he was having a heart attack.

Not only that, but at the Thunderbolts compound, privacy was a myth. Everyone noticed the way he put you first, and nobody had the emotional maturity to leave it alone, especially during down times when everyone was home with no missions or jobs to run off to.

Idle hands made for cruel commentary.

They started small. Little side-eyes, snorts, giggles, the occasional cough-covered ‘lover boy’ muttered under someone’s breath when Bob stood the moment you entered a room, like he was always on guard.

Then it escalated.

Yelena turned it into a sport, narrating his reactions like a nature documentary when you weren’t present.

”And here we see Bob Reynolds in his natural habitat–blushing violently, hands wringing in his lap, trying not to pass out because Y/N said his name. Observe how he avoids eye contact while trying to remember how to function.” This would make him even more flustered, and only add to his embarrassment of wearing his feelings on his sleeve.

“Please stop,” He would say, with his face on fire.

Ava took to mimicking Bob’s dreamy stares behind your back when the both of you would talk to one another, making sure there was grotesque exaggeration to every detail. How his eyes would widen, and his lips would part, oftentimes she would clutch her chest dramatically and sway from side to side, which only made his cheeks go a bright red as he was talking to you.

Even Alexei, who should’ve had better things to do, began to offer unsolicited advice.

”You must confess, Bob. Women like confidence. You must say, ‘I am man of strength and softness, let us be passionate together!’” Bob nearly choked on the air he breathed, blinking up at Alexei, who was nodding like he had just offered the secret to eternal happiness, and not a line from a Soviet soap opera.

”I…I’m not saying that,” Bob stammered, voice thin with embarrassment.

“Why not?” Alexei boomed, looking over at Walker and Yelena as if they were going to back him up, “You are soft man! Strong man! Women love this contradiction!” Walker sipped his protein shake without looking up from his phone.

”Honestly Bob…It’s not the worst idea he’s had.” Bob looked like someone had just pulled the emergency brake on his nervous system. He was stunned by the agreement the idea was receiving, then he rubbed his hands over his face, like he could scrub away the humiliation clinging to his skin.

”I can’t say that…I’ll die in the middle of it.” Bob muttered, his hands muffling his voice, before hearing a little chuckle coming from Yelena.

”You’re like watching a candle melt under a heat lamp…Take it easy on yourself Bob.” She said, leaning back in her chair.

”Seriously,” Ava added, leaning against the counter with a yogurt in her hand, “ Just say something. Anything at this point will be better than nothing. And please hurry up, because you’re starting to give us secondhand embarrassment with this mating dance you’re doing.” Bob was about to say something then the door creaked open, causing him to pause mid conversation.

Bucky walked in with a towel draped around his neck, drenched in sweat from the endurance run he had done on the treadmill just moments ago, with a look of vague concern on his face.

”What’s with all the noise? I heard Alexei yelling about passion through the vents.” He said, glancing over at everyone who was crowded in the kitchen.

”We’re trying to get Bob to confess his undying love for Y/N.” Yelena replied, watching as Bucky looked over at Bob who was hunched over the kitchen island and flushing a scarlet red.

”Oh,” He said, like it suddenly made perfect sense, “…Wait, he still hasn’t said anything?” He added, confused.

“Nope,” Walker responded, still scrolling through his phone, not bothering to look up, “Somehow he’s been able to keep the verbal diarrhea to a minimum with her.”

“Barely. Last week she complimented him on how strong he was for carrying six bags of groceries for her in one go and he stammered over a thank you for two whole minutes.” Bucky let out a little laugh.

”Pretty sure you’re describing a stroke, not a crush/“ He started, wiping his face off with his towel, “What exactly are you waiting for, Bob? A written invitation from the president or something?” Before Bob even had a chance to answer, the door creaked open again, and you appeared.

You were still damp from the shower you had taken a few minutes ago, with your hair pinned back, and your skin still flushed from the heat of the water. You had on a soft, oversized t-shirt and…Bob’s sweatpants. He had given them to you last week without prompt, saying that you would be warmer in them, and since then, you managed to forget to give them back–whether it was on purpose or by accident, nobody really knew for sure.

Yelena had caught it immediately though.

”Wow…Y/N, those are some nice sweatpants, where’d you get them from?” She drawled, grinning like a cat that had just spotted a mouse. You glanced down at them and pointed.

”These? They’re Bob’s actually, so I have no clue where they’re from, but they’re super comfy.” Bob made a noise that could only be described as a choked squeak, as everyone glanced over at him in their own small ways. Yelena grinned.

”Oh, Bob’s, huh?” You nodded cheerfully, completely missing the way Bob’s soul was visibly leaving his body.

“Yeah, I was freezing after that mission last week and he just gave them to me. I forgot to return them, but they’re just too good to give up.” You replied, looking down at them fondly, like they were a luxury item of sorts, before adjusting the waistband a little bit, “Hope you’re okay if I keep them a little longer before giving them back to you.” You added, with a little smirk.

Bob–already pink from neck to ears–opened his mouth but only managed a soft, and cracked, “Yeah…Yeah totally fine.”

You smiled at him–kind, and warm, and totally unaware of how he was going to spontaneously combust in a few moments if you didn’t stop looking at him the way you always did, with this admiration and care.

Yelena nudged Ava as you turned to the pantry to grab your tote bag.

”I was about to actually go on a grocery run, I figured it’s a good time to stock up for movie night tomorrow…Bob, do you wanna come?”

He lifted his head almost immediately, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly–or like he was still rebooting from the sight of you wearing his sweatpants again and saying you might want to keep them longer.

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, and everyone else looked at him like a firing squad waiting to shoot.

”I-uh…Grocery run?” Yelena pressed her lips together to hold back a grin, before glancing over at Bucky who was shaking his head, then Walker glanced up from his phone, staring at him with a look that basically screamed ‘don’t you dare blow this.’

“Yeah, “ You said with a casual smile, “I was actually going to go because they finally restocked those kettle chips you like, and that weird sparkling iced tea…The lemon honey one. But I thought I’d just kill two birds with one stone and just take the whole movie night snack order now and get it over with…Y’know what I mean?” Bob felt like his entire chest was going to cave in under your words. The fact you remembered such little details about him killed him, because it gave him those butterflies in his stomach–the ones that gave him hope. Dangerous, reckless hope.

”He’ll go.” Yelena replied, “He’s not doing anything anyways, he’s super available right now, aren’t you Bob?” All eyes turned to him.

“I–uh…”

“He lives for those late night grocery runs,” Ava chimed in, “You’ve made his week.” Bucky crossed his arms, clearly entertained.

”Oh yeah, didn’t you say twenty minutes ago that your dream night would be picking out snacks with a girl you–respect deeply as a teammate?” He piled on, causing Bob to swallow loudly.

“Well that’s perfect then! I’ll meet you in the garage in five minutes!” You said brightly, giving him one last smile that probably shaved three years off his life expectancy before you turned and strolled out of the kitchen, with your tote bag bouncing against your hip. Everyone waited until the front door clicked to interrupt the silence.

”Oh Jesus.” Bob said, sinking his face into his hands, hearing Yelena clap like a coach at halftime.

”Alright, let’s lock in–because if you mess this up, Bob, you’re probably never getting another invite like that again.” Ava pointed her spoon at him like a judge handing down a sentence, before saying.

”And it’s the first time she’s asked you to come with her somewhere instead of you tripping over your shoelaces to offer a hand, so that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah,” Bucky added dryly, “So don’t think yourself into a grave for the love of god, because you’ve done it all backwards. She’s supposed to be wearing your clothes when you’re dating, not before.” Bob groaned louder.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

[firelilyfox]

slow hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: You are insecure because Bucky seems to be avoiding getting intimate with you. But after a heart to heart talk he shows you how wrong you are with that...

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: hurt/comfort. mention of trauma. kissing. anxiety. established relationship. slight nsfw +18 (because of fingering and stuff).

_____________

His lips were gently touching yours. Your fingers ran through his thick hair and wandered to his broad shoulders in search of support. Bucky sighed and leaned even deeper into the kiss. His weight above you pushed you further into the pillow. His bionic hand was on your hip while he held himself up with the other next to your head.

You just recently got together and since then there was hardly a moment when you could keep your hands off each other.

You wanted to be as close to him as possible, so you wrap a leg around his hip to pull him down to you until your hips could touch.

Bucky froze.

„What is it?” You ask uncertainly.

Bucky swallowed hard. “I - I think I’d should go now.”

Without waiting for your answer, he left your room. The feeling of shame gripped your chest. Did you go too far? You had never talked about the next step, but somehow got to this point anyway.

What if he don’t want that? What if he doesn’t want you in that way?

The next morning your head ached like hell from the restless night with fearful thoughts.

Coffee. Coffee is the solution for everything. At least it made you responsive when Steve entered the kitchen.

„As I can see, I can save myself the ‘good morning’,” he joked and grabbed a cup from the shelf.

You give him an annoyed look. “Spare yourself, Cap.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Damn you’re in a bad mood. What did Bucky do now?”

You put down your coffee cup and rest your chin on your hands. “Nothing at all. That’s the weird thing.”

„Come again?”

You hesitate for a moment. “How comfortable are you talking to me about my sex life?”

Steve spit the sip of coffee back into the cup and started coughing hard. Smiling, you pat him on the back, even if it didn’t seem to help.

„That wasn’t on my to-do list,” Steve said when he caught his breath again. “But I’m all ears.”

You lift yourself onto the kitchen counter and let your legs dangle. “We had a really nice evening together yesterday. It was getting late and then ... well then we had...”

„Sex?“ 

„No! Well I mean that’s what it came down to ... I think.”

Steve leaned with his hip go the counter. “You have to be a little more specific if you want my help.”

A frustrated sigh escaped you. “We had ... a moment.”

„A moment?”

„Yes. It became ... well more intimate. And then Bucky suddenly behaved very strangely, as if he was afraid of something. Then he left.”

Steve nodded silently. He seemed to think about your problem and was looking for the right words.

„Did you two ever had ...?”

„No. But this is not the first time he withdraws from me. Usually he just interrupts the kiss or something. But this time... this time it was different.”

You wipe a tear out of the corner of your eye before it could run down your face.

“I think I know what’s going on,” Steve said, squeezing your hand for comfort.

You snort. “He doesn’t want me that way... right?”

„Fuck no that’s certainly not it,” laughed Steve and you stud at the curse that came over his lips.

“Listen. Bucky is my best friend and I know exactly how he behaves when he is attracted to someone. And believe me, he’s acting even more like a love-sick idiot with you than ever before.”

Your cheeks got warm at the thought of him being in … love with you.

Steve looked away. “We both come from a different time. A lot has changed and a lot of time has passed. It was hard for me to build a wide variety of relationships with others, so I don’t want to imagine how hard it is for Bucky.

„So you mean Bucky withdraws because he doesn’t know what to do?”

Steve nodded cautiously. “Maybe. He’s been through a lot. Has seen and experienced things that I would not wish on my worst enemy. If I were in his place, it would be difficult for me too.”

That made you think. And a little part of you knew Steve could be right. 

„Thank you, Cap.”

Steve tapped his forehead with two fingers. “At your service, ma’am.”

That same evening you found yourself in front of the door to Bucky’s room.

Quietly you knock on the door before you let yourself in. Bucky sat with a bent posture over his side table and scribbled something on paper.

“Hey, Buck,” you say softly to draw attention to yourself.

Bucky turned to you and stood up immediately. “Hey, Doll”

His hands found their place on your hips and he pulled you into a deep kiss.

Every fiber of your body threatened to fall apart in his hands. It took you a lot of strength not to sink against his hard chest.

A little out of breath, you stopped the kiss.

Think. You came to talk. No pressure.

„What are you doing?”, you ask instead, nodding to the desk.

Bucky grinned. “I’ll show you.”

His blue eyes flashed excitedly and he brushed a few lost strands of hair from his face. Your gaze glided over his muscular arm, which didn’t exactly help to keep a clear head.

Oh great heavens. God help me.

„Do you like it?”

He pointed to a drawing made with a charcoal pencil. It was a face. It was your face.

„Bucky ... you drew me?” Your voice trembled with emotion.

He stood close behind you so that your back was leaning directly against his chest and stomach. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

„We haven’t seen each other today, so I had to distract myself. I can’t last long not being with you.”

Tears gathered in your eyes. Damn you hormones.

„It’s beautiful, Bucky. You have an incredible talent.”

He turned you around to him and put the index finger of his bionic hand under your chin. “It’s not half as beautiful as the original.” 

His lips rested on yours and a desperate sigh escaped you. Your hands moved into his neck and sought a hold. Bucky groans as you softly bury your fingers in his hair. In response, your body pressed even tighter against his, as if by itself. The kiss became more intense and...

„Wait.” Your breathing stumbled but you manage to bring distance between you two. “Wait, please.”

Bucky looked at you alarmed. “What is it, doll? Did I do something wrong?”

And there it was.

Clear as day. Bucky looked downright remorse. As if all his worst fears had come true.

Steve was right.

„No, you did everything right. I’m the one who did something wrong.”

Shaking your head, you step away from him and let yourself sink on the bed. “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

Confused, he sank to his knees and rested his hands on the mattress next to your thighs. “What are you apologizing for?”

Because of his size, you were still at eye level, even if he knelt on the floor in front of you.

“For what happened yesterday.”

Understanding flashed in his eyes before he lowered his gaze. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You put a hand on his rough cheek. “I pushed you.”

Bucky laughed unluckily, then kissed your palm and looked up at you again. “No, you haven’t. The fact that I had to end this so quickly yesterday and ran away was certainly not because you pushed me to do something I don’t want to do. Believe me, I want that. Fuck, I want you so bad.”

His words alone made your body tremble. The desire to be close to him grew immeasurably and brought the almost physical pain.

„But why ... I mean what can I do to ...?”

Bucky grabbed your hips with a firm grip, but did not move further. The intensity of his touch was not painful but much more desperate.

„Every time you kiss me, everything in me just explodes. It’s like you’re dropping gasoline into me and then lighting it all up. I can’t control the feeling and ... that worries me.”

You kiss him on the forehead and elicit a smile from him.

„But that’s not all. I ... the last time I slept with someone was - well over a hundred years ago. And I can’t remember a lot of that time. Especially the good things - the good memories were damaged. So if you touch me - if you kiss me, then I want to do so much more with you ... but I don’t know how anymore.”

Embarrassed, he closed his eyes and made a face as if he was punched in the gut.

Carefully you slide closer to him, so that you had to spread your legs further. “Then it has nothing to do with the fact that you don’t want me the way I want you?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped open and the lust that was reflected in them was so intense that you wanted to kneel down. His lips parted and you could feel his breathing quicken with a heartbeat.

„You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you? The thought that you want me? That alone is enough to drive me crazy, doll.”

A devilish smile settled on your lips. “If that’s the case...”

With trembling fingers you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it gently but firmly. Bucky leaned back a bit so you could take it off.

Then your own top also wandered to the floor next to his.

Bucky swallowed hard. His beautiful face was like that of a thirsty man and he literally devoured you with his gaze.

„How about we create new memories together?”

Bucky hesitated. “Love ... what if I lose control?” His gaze flew to his bionic arm. “What if I hurt you?”

You kiss him gently. “I trust you. You’re a good man, Bucky. You’re strong and I know you’d never hurt me, no matter what.”

That seemed to break his resistance.

In a matter of seconds, Bucky had grabbed you and pulled you to him. His lips pressed hungrily on yours, conquering you and driving you crazy.

With a smooth movement he stood up, put your legs around his hips and laid you on the bed. Your hands explored his bare chest and wandered over his broad shoulders to his back.

Everything about him was warm and inviting. Strong but not threatening. Demanding but not intimidating. His body was clearly acting on autopilot, because nothing of his insecurities could be noticed.

He gently bit your throat which made you moan in surprise.

He faltered.

„Sorry I ...”

„Don’t you dare to you apologize for that!”

Your voice was so full of lust that it made Bucky grin. He slowly understood that you liked what he did to you.

„Give me your hand.”

He hesitated. Obviously he didn’t know which one you meant. Bionic or flesh.

You point to the bionic. “Do you feel everything with it?”

„Not always. The sensors imitate what I should feel, but it’s not the same.”

Before he could dive too much into the thought, you took his other hand and showed him the way between your legs.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he understood. He don’t have to be asked twice.

Slowly his hand moved under the waistband of your pants and panties and found your most sensitive spot. You gasp for air, claw at him and bend towards him.

His fingers moved in circles and agonizingly slow. And Bucky enjoyed every little sound he caused with it.

He covered you with little kisses. Shoulder. Clavicle. Neck. Jaw. Chin. Cheek. Lips.

You got dizzy from his affection.

“I could do this forever. Watching you fall apart under me. Because of me. God, you’re so beautiful.”

His hand movements became faster. Your hip twitched uncontrollably.

„Bucky …“ 

“Cum for me, love.”

And you did.

Bucky held you in his arms as the wave of climax collapsed over you. He pressed gentle kisses on your heated skin, whispered sweet words in your ear and smiled more than just satisfied.

“You definitely know how to do that,” you say breathlessly and giggle.

„I thought you might have liked it.”

With a cheeky grin you straighten up and get rid of your pants and panties, then your hands find the waistband of his pants and pulled it until the two of you were completely naked.

You put a hand on his chest, feel the wildly pounding heart underneath and made him lean back. Then you settle down on his lap and thus also on him.

Bucky groaned, wrapped his arms around you and looked up at you as if you were a goddess.

„Fuck, doll.“

“Yes, please.”

————————-

Thank you so much for reading! 💙 All interactions are highly appreciated (but please don’t copy my work)

BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

[elizawritestoo]

santa, baby⋆.𐙚 ̊

alt version | part of my winter holiday celebration | main masterlist

pairing: avengers!bucky barnes x f!reader summary: you'd been living dangerously all night. prancing around in that short dress, drinking a few too many christmas cocktails, and taking your role as mrs. claus a bit too seriously... or, you drunkenly sit in bucky's lap. wc: 3.0k warnings (18+): smut [making out, lap sitting, dry humping, cumming in pants], alcohol consumption, descriptions of drunkeness, not proofread, pics are not representative of reader's physical traits!!

note: this is an alternative version of my dec. 7 fic, secret santa. this is the same au, same reader & same bucky but in this fic there's no secret santa game being played. some sections are taken directly from the previous fic, this is just my alternative idea for how it plays out.

you had always annoyed bucky. gotten under his skin for some reason that he couldn't quite figure out. there was just something about you that bugged the hell out of him. not that he'd ever admit it to your face; you were the avengers' darling after all. their favorite lab assistant, cute as a button and always ready to help. you were such a good employee that tony had you move into one of the spare rooms in avengers tower, so you'd literally always be there to help.

great for you and everyone else, fucking hell for bucky. every corner he turned, there you were with that stupid fucking smile on your face, chatting with someone, probably brightening their day.

you'd tried to do that with bucky only to be shut down every time. the truth was, you'd admired bucky, knowing he'd been through so much. so you'd tried to talk to him and become friends but every time you spoke he'd say maybe one word then just walk away. it got to the point where you just stopped trying. and you were fine with not talking, thinking that maybe he was just awkward and not social (which was true), but then you noticed other things. like how he'd stare at you sometimes, but not just staring, he was glaring. or sometimes he'd roll his eyes at something you said. it was hard not to be offended, even with steve telling you not to take it personally.

for the most part, you kept it cordial with bucky. you didn't try to start conversations with him anymore (which bothered him more than he would like to admit), but you also weren't out right rude to him. he was just around. that is until one fateful weekend: the weekend of the avengers' christmas party.

you had been excited about the party for weeks, even ordering a mrs. claus costume to wear. though it was a little more scandalous than you usually went for (as you told natasha during your thirty minute debate about whether or not it was appropriate), you had thrown caution into the wind and decided to wear the dress anyways.

the party was all christmas cocktails, sugar cookies, and santa hats galore. everyone had loved your costume, some maybe a little too much; you had seen pepper smack tony's arm after he ogled a little too long.

you had also come up with a spectacularly terrible drinking game for yourself where every time you felt self conscious about your outfit, you took a sip. this is how you ended up loudly singing christmas carols with sam, much to everyone else's annoyance.

this annoyance led many to having even more drinks. at some point, thor produced a bottle of liquor he said was from another of the nine realms or something, though you weren't really listening. you were far too busy nearly dying as one sip of the liquor seemed to have burned the skin off your throat. so even though you stuck to the earthly cocktails, the extra terrestrial liquor did turn it into a proper party. maybe a little bit too much.

tony had--for some reason--felt encouraged to challenge thor to a drink off, which he lost nearly immediately, having to be comforted by pepper (thor laughing and bruce shaking his head as they watched). sam had taken two shots of the E.T. and was now laid out on the couch. steve was by his side making sure he was okay while nat laughed and documented the situation on her camera phone.

this left bucky somewhat unattended in a corner of the party. while everyone else's attention was elsewhere, yours had focused in on said lonely man as you finished your fourth drink.

the alcohol had done its job (and a damn good one) lowering your inhibitions, so you fearlessly walked (stumbled) up to bucky with a smile on your face.

"buckyyy," you sing as you approach. he had been watching you approach and was now looking up at you expectantly. before he can process what was happening you sat yourself down. right in his lap. it's a bold move, and though you definitely feel looser with the alcohol in your system, you're fully aware of what you were doing.

he hadn't been ready for it, and apparently neither had you, because you immediately begin to tip over. his hands shoot out and grab your hips instinctively, steadying you on his leg. your hands reach out for his shoulders, which you now happily hold onto as you smile at him even bigger.

"ohh, bucky!" you say excitedly, "merry christmas!" you give a little bounce to emphasize your happiness.

he just watches you with a rapt curiousity as you swing your legs over his so he's practically holding you bridal style. he keeps one arm around your back to keep you from falling over again.

"yeah, merry christmas," he mumbles before looking around the room to see if anyone else was aware of what was happening right now. they weren't.

"oh." he turns back to see you pouting as you look at him. "you're not having a good time?" any other time, you would have expected him to roll his eyes and tell you to leave him alone. but the way you were looking at him right now, lips drawn in a pout, eyes wide with sadness-- he just wants you to look happy again.

"no, it's okay," he tries, "it's a nice party." he watches your mouth change into a lopsided smile, like you were halfway between happy and sad.

"yeah, i guess." you shift in his lap as you turn to look out at the party, which was starting to empty out as thor carried tony to his and pepper's room. as you move, you unknowingly scoot closer to him, your ass getting dangerously close to the bulge in his pants that he's currently hyperfocused on keeping down.

the little dress you're wearing doesn't help one bit. the fur trim around your low-cut collar doesn't do much to hide your breasts. the skirt of the dress was so short that it had lifted up, meaning your bare thighs and underwear are resting on his jeans. damn it, bucky, why would you think about her underwear at a time like this?

you sigh loudly, pulling his attention back to your face. "bucky, you're always so sad. it makes me sad. i just-- steve's told me a bit about what happened and i know you don't like me, but i just want to help. i like you a lot, bucky, and you--"

you stop suddenly, leaving bucky hanging as he waits for you to continue. he unconsciously leans in closer to your face, like maybe he just can't hear you.

you, on the other hand, feel your face flush at your admission of liking him. the alcohol must be wearing off because you can feel some embarrassment start to slip in. what were you doing telling him all this?

"i'm sorry, i should--" you start to get off his lap, but his hands quickly wrap around your waist, pulling you back onto him. you gasp as he pulls you close, your leg accidentally brushing against the growing tent in his pants.

"wait," he says lowly. "don't." you look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. "i don't hate you." he says it so quietly you aren't sure if you even really hear it. your eyes dart around his face until his gaze becomes too much and you look down at your lap.

"bucky..." you breathe out. the air between you two had gotten thick. you can feel yourself getting more and more sober by the second, just as you feel his cock getting harder and harder against your thigh.

you look up at him and swear you're even closer than you were before. his face is just inches from yours as he watches you.

"i don't hate you," he repeats. though they're simple words, ones that shouldn't excite you the way they do, they feel like more than just a statement of indifference. maybe it's because you know that him saying anything to you is a huge step forward. or maybe it's because he's like three inches from your face and his eyes keep stealing down to your lips.

you act on basic feeling, closing the distance between your lips and his. it's soft, almost too soft. he's so gentle, it's like he thinks he's going to break you. he pulls away after only a few seconds, his face hovering a few inches from yours. he begins to whisper your name before someone interrupts.

"hey buck!"

bucky quickly helps you slide off his lap onto the seat next to him. you both look to steve walking towards y'all. as he gets closer, he starts looking between the two of you, like he knows he's interrupted something.

"sorry, uh, we're gonna take sam to his room. make sure he gets back okay," steve says, gesturing to where natasha is standing in front of a very intoxicated sam. "are you..?"

"i'm fine," bucky says gruffly.

steve looks between the two of you again, like he's not sure he believes it. bucky huffs a sigh. "steve, really, i'm fine."

"okay. uh, let me know if you need anything. i'll just be with sam for a minute," steve says. he looks between the two of you again before giving you a nod and walking back towards sam. he gives the two of you another look before he helps natasha carry sam towards his room.

this is when you look around to realize the party has ended. however, you don't think whatever is happening between you and bucky has ended just yet.

"bucky--"

"i'm sorry. i shouldn't have--"

"no, i'm sorry. i kissed you--"

"no, no," bucky says, putting his hands up. "you're drunk. i shouldn't have kissed you."

you shake your head. "i'm not that drunk."

"you stumbled up here and sat in my lap," he says matter-of-factly.

"okay? i'm-- i knew what i was doing. i still do." you didn't mean for the words to come out so breathless. they almost sounded like a proposition, though neither of you know quite how to respond. you decide to start again. "bucky," you say carefully, "i kissed you. and i'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable. i shouldn't have--"

"it didn't."

you're at a loss for words. you teeth pull your bottom lip in, biting like maybe it'll give you an answer for what to do next. your brain can't seem to come up with the right thing to do, so you, for the second time tonight, decide to act based on feeling.

"bucky, i want you."

bucky almost can't believe it, but you said it so softly, so earnestly. his hands twitch at his sides, wanting to reach out and hold you again so badly but his mind is stopping him. his eyes are analyzing your face, trying to see if you're telling the truth. do you really mean this? you couldn't possibly...

"bucky," you say his name to break him out of his thoughts. "please say something."

he doesn't say anything. he can't. because you're impatient, tired of this limbo you've been in for what feels like hours. so you pushed your body forward onto his, gingerly pressing your lips against his.

bucky stills for a second, before his resolve snaps and his hands fly to your waist. he pulls you in closer until you're on his lap again, thighs around his hips. you deepen the kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers dancing in the ends of his hair.

you feel his erection against your core as you mindlessly grind against him. his arms wrap around your torso, his flesh hand snaking up to grip the back of your neck which allows him to pull you impossibly closer to him.

the kiss only breaks after you moan into his mouth from the feeling of his jeans against your clit. you're practically panting above him as you grind against his hardened cock, but he's not doing much better. it's understandable why you're so enthusiastic about getting off on his lap (you haven't been with another person since before moving in to the tower). it makes you wonder how long it's been since he was with someone. the wonderment is cut off when his mouth greedily seeks yours again.

he groans after you grind against him particularly roughly, almost bouncing as you move your clothed cunt against him. the feeling of your warmth against his dick, even through the several layers of fabric, has his mind melting.

"fuck," you breathe as you feel your pussy clench around nothing.

he can practically feel your wetness soaking onto his jeans and he nearly cums at the thought. honestly, he doesn't know how long he's going to last. with your soft mouth on his lips, your chest bouncing against his, and your warm, wet cunt desperately rutting against his cock... it's hard to believe he's lasted this long.

"oh, sweetheart," he groans, "slow down. i'm-- i'm not gonna last."

the sound of his voice pushes you to the edge of orgasm. "oh fuck, bucky," you nearly whimper. "it's okay, i'm close."

you bury your head in his neck as you keep grinding against his shaft, desperate for your orgasm. you feel his hands run up and down your thighs before they come to squeeze your hips so hard they may bruise, like he's trying to keep control.

"it's okay, bucky," you breathe as your orgasm approaches. "oh fuck," you whine as his cock twitches from inside his jeans. you can feel him pulsing through the fabric as he cums, the knowledge sending you over the edge. he squeezes your hips even tighter as he presses you against him. your pussy clenches over and over, wetness leaking out of your hole.

your breathing is uneven at best as you ride out your orgasm against him. you feel the remnants of whatever alcohol you drank wash over you in your haze, suddenly feeling very tired as you slouch against his body.

you listen to his breathing calm down, feeling his heartbeat against you as you lay on his chest. eventually, he loosens his grip on your hips. after a minute of regaining some of your composure, you lean back from him.

"are you okay?" he asks quietly.

"yeah," you sigh, content even as exhaustion takes over. "you?"

he nods, but he seems off. his eyes are looking anywhere but directly into yours and he just feels... far away. you place your hand lightly on his cheek, forcing him to look into your eye.

"you're sure?" you ask again.

he draws in a sharp breath, but nods a few seconds later. you bite your lip, unsure of if you believe him. but you're not able to say anything before he speaks.

"you should go to bed." and with that, he's already lifting you off his lap. he practically holds you mid air while your legs untangle from his body and drop to the ground. you're still a little wobbly, so he keeps a firm arm supporting you as you make your way towards the hallway.

passing through the empty common room, you remember how the party was raging earlier. some of the lights have automatically dimmed, leaving just the twinkle lights to keep the room aglow. you can see lights of the skyline through the glass, but you prefer the warmth of the lights in here.

bucky leads you to your room. he opens the door for you and starts to walk you to your bed before you stop him.

"wait just a second, i've gotta go to the bathroom," you get to the bathroom door before turning back and adding, "don't leave yet," before disappearing into the bathroom.

you're quicker than usual going to the bathroom and honestly a little surprised when he's still there after you're done. you crack a little smile at how out of place he looks in your bedroom. his large frame against the rather cozy feel of your room... it's cute.

"hey," you say softly as you walk up next to where he stands against the wall of your room. you can feel sleep begging to take over, but you need to talk to him first. "i don't regret what we just did, you know? and i do like you." he doesn't reply with more than a nod, so you ask the question that has been stirring for the past few minutes. "do you regret it?"

you hold your breath as you wait for an answer, staring into his eyes like maybe they'll give you a hint on how he's feeling. he shakes his head.

"no. but we can talk about it tomorrow. you need to sleep." you huff. you don't know if you're fully happy with his answer but you also know he's right.

you turn towards your dresser and start unzipping your dress, not caring if he's looking (partially because you're too tired to care and partially because you literally just dry humped him until you both came in your pants). you pull on clean underwear and pajamas, stealing a glance in his direction to find he's turned his back to give you privacy. you smile despite yourself at his gentlemanly ways before walking up to him and tapping him on the shoulders.

"promise me that we'll talk tomorrow. first thing," you say, your vulnerability evident in your voice. bucky nods.

"i promise," he says before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. it happens so quickly, the next morning you're not even sure it really did happen.

but the next morning you also wake to find him waiting outside your door, ready to discuss what happened last night. you had to insist to him several times that you were within your right mind when you hooked up with him for him to believe you, but eventually the conversation turns sweet.

note: ok up to the wire on this dec. 25 deadline for this story but it's a holiday. i hope y'all enjoyed this. it may be a bit of a mess because honestly i wrote it over like two days and was tired both times. also second fic in a row featuring dry humping... whoops. that's what i get for trying to branch out and not have piv in every fic.

taglist: @bonjourjiminie @yesav111 @paubotty27 @alastorssimp @cynbx @reidmiss-3

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[buckybsdoll]

lavender letters

summary: you receive a letter under your door — no name, no clue as to who it's from — just a sweet message and pressed lavender. the next day, there's another and then another — but they couldn't possibly be from the brooding man you'd been crushing on, right?

pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x avengers fem!reader | word count: 3.8k warnings: slight angst and feelings of loneliness; bucky is a man who yearns; reader is a hopeless romantic prompt: sending/receiving love letters - day one of @wildflowersandvibranium and @pinksplace galentine's event! a/n: first Bucky fic ahhhh kinda nervous 🙈 i'm sorryyy this is like 3 days late but I wanted to still post it! (i had given up on this fic but then had motivation for it this morning)

“Oooh, what’s that? Looks fancy.” Nat snatches the letter out of your hand. You had walked into the kitchen beaming, scanning the room until you found Nat sitting at the table eating an apple, practically skipping over to her—letter in hand. It’s a simple enough envelope, paper worn thin like someone had held it too long before putting it under your door while you slept. 

“Oh my god, give it backkk,” you whine, reaching for it as Nat holds it out of reach. It was half-hearted really. You had wanted to show her, in that silly girly way — squealing and jumping up and down, giggling about your secret admirer. 

You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, opening the letter to show her. 

“So it could literally be anyone. There were hundreds of people at the party last night,” you sigh, folding the letter back into the envelope, carefully placing the lavender back in. 

“Well I mean not anyone if it was left under your door this morning.” Nat looks around the room, eyeing out the potential prospects. 

“What’re you looking at Barnes?” She spits out, chin jutting in his direction.

Bucky had been glancing over at the two of you, trying and failing to be discreet — barely listening to Steve sitting across from him. He squints at Nat, staring her down with the kind of intensity that would make anyone else wish the ground would swallow them. You give him a small smile and his face softens.

He’d always been softer with you than anyone else. When Steve had first brought him to the tower, you’d been first to greet him with a smile on your face — gentle, inviting. Where others had been wary, you’d been curious. Where they had been avoidant, you’d been caring — buying him his favorite tea, checking in on him, dropping off books you had read that you thought he might like. You had slowly become his confidant, his safe space and he yours. 

“Nothing,” he grumbles, walking out of the room without another word, his heart pounding out of his chest, face hot and throat tight like he hadn’t drank water for days. 

Fuck fuck fuck why did I leave the letter? 

Bucky paces back and forth in his room, chewing his lip and raking his hands through his already messy hair. 

But she looked so happy. 

Bucky smiles to himself as he remembers your little jump, your bare feet hitting the floor, hair messy like you had just woken up. He remembers the way you hadn’t stopped smiling all morning, your voice high and excited as you showed Natasha the letter.

She doesn’t even know it’s from you, idiot.

He lets out a loud groan as he falls back onto his bed, landing with a soft thump, hands running down his face in frustration. He contemplates his desk — the envelopes laid out next to the scrunched pieces of paper (the letters he’d started and thrown to the side, exasperated), the sprigs of lavender that had fallen on the floor, his pens sprawled out, and sits down to write out another letter. 

He ponders what to write, determined to sign his name this time. He decides to keep it simple, adding a poem he had read that reminded him of you. 

Just write it. Just write your name. Just sign it. Bucky Barnes. Or just Bucky. Write it. 

He doesn’t. 

He folds the letter up, puts it into an envelope, adds another piece of lavender (you had seemed to like that — he had noticed you taking it back out of the envelope, pressing it to your nose with a smile). He waits until he knows you’ve gone to sleep, and slides it under your door. 

“What’s that smile you’ve got on?” Nat eyes you out as you walk into the kitchen — the way you’re rocking back and forth on your heels, cheesy grin on your face, hands clasped behind your back. 

“I got another letter,” you giggle, pulling it out from behind you. 

You’d always wanted a secret admirer. A valentine. Always were a hopeless romantic in a way you hardly let show. Previous partners had never really indulged that side of you — always treating it like a burden that you wanted flowers and spontaneous gestures and planned out dates — so you had slowly let it go, convincing yourself it was too much. 

“Ooh show me.” Nat reaches for the envelope. 

“It’s just soooo,” you let out a squeal, before quickly covering your mouth, regaining your composure.

“It’s so sweet, the little poem he added. I love it. I wonder who it could be from.” 

“Who even writes letters anymore?” Nat lets out a small scoff, before muttering a ‘sorry’ and handing the letter back when she notices your face fall.

Bucky’s sitting at the counter, eating breakfast when he chokes on his cereal and the two of you look over at him, questioning. Sam gets up and slaps him on the back — much harder than necessary, laughing as Bucky glares at him.

He’d been quietly eavesdropping, smiling into his bowl at your little squeal, his heart picking up when you’d said you love it. 

You go about the next week as usual — attending meetings, training in the gym, working on your latest project and coming back from a successful mission — trying hard to not think about your secret admirer. You had received a new letter each day. 

They were all simple messages. Sometimes they included a small gift — a small chocolate, a bookmark, more flowers. You had been giddy all week, however the excitement had started to die down once you realized they may never sign their name. 

It’s Friday and you’re exhausted from the long week, showering the day off and settling into a soft pink t-shirt and matching shorts, tying your hair loosely behind you before making your way into the living room. Bucky and Steve are sitting on the couch next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching a movie, a bowl of popcorn settled between them. Bucky’s sprawled out in his black sweatpants and grey henley, smiling up at you when you enter the room. He shifts without realizing, making space for you — the way he always does. 

Bucky can’t help the way his heart stutters when you curl up next to him, legs tucked under you, fuzzy socks resting against your bare thighs. Your knee presses against his — your body naturally gravitating towards his. The smell of your shampoo wraps around Bucky like a warm blanket — coconut and mango and something so you — he wants to drown in it. Wrap his arms around you and pull you into him. But he doesn’t. His fingers twitch at his sides instead.

He reaches for the popcorn, hand brushing yours when you reach at the same time. He’s focusing harder on trying to not look over at you than what’s playing on the screen. You lean your head on his shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world — because it is. Bucky feels something melt inside him when your hair brushes his neck and it takes everything in him to not reach over and brush aside the piece that had fallen into your eyes. 

You sigh softly, eyes drooping as the tiredness of your day washes over you. You settle into Bucky’s side further, trying to not make it too obvious that you’re melting into him like that’s where you belong. The smell of his soap mixed with that warm smell that was so Bucky makes your head spin and your eyes flutter shut. 

You don’t remember going to your bed before falling asleep. Don’t remember the way Bucky had carried you while you grumbled nonsense against his neck. The way he had placed you down gently, hovering over you like he wanted to kiss your forehead, but had decided against it in case you woke. Bucky looked at the letters placed out on your desk — open like you had been reading them over and over — and makes his mind up to tell you they’re from him. 

Tomorrow. When you wake up. 

Bucky gets dressed the next morning — a pair of sweatpants and a worn t-shirt he uses for the gym — brushing his teeth and fussing with his hair like it might change. He trims his beard slightly, never shaving it after he’d overheard you one day saying you like a man with a beard. Gives himself a pep talk in the mirror, taking a deep breath before shaking his head at himself. He paces back and forth a few times before mustering up the courage to walk down the hallway to your room. 

Before he reaches your door, he notices it slightly open, your voice travelling under the door. He’s about to take another step when he hears Nat.

“So who do we think the secret admirer is?” 

“I don’t knowww.” You pause, thinking to yourself before continuing, “maybe it’s Nate from research? He’s kinda cute and he seems like the romantic type, he asked me on a date last week.”

Bucky feels jealousy rise hot and fast in his chest, hands clenching at his sides. Fucking Nate. 

“Did you say yes?” 

“I said I’d let him know.” 

“He didn’t mention the letters?” 

“No… but maybe he wanted to wait until I said yes?” 

You hear a crash from outside your door — Bucky having stumbled when Steve had turned the corner and bumped into him full force. 

You hear a muttering of ‘Sorry man, didn’t see you there’ and ‘S’fine’. 

“You lost, Barnes?” Nat questions with a smirk on her face, arms crossed over her chest as she pushes the door open to look at them. 

“No I was just—” Bucky trails off, walking away before he embarrases himself further. 

“Imagine it was Bucky.” Nat gasps, laughing. 

Bucky stops in his tracks, heart speeding up as he tunes in to your conversation. 

“What? No way.” You scoff, laughing louder at the suggestion. 

Bucky’s heart drops. He feels the hope die in his chest, his dreams crushed in a split second. He drags himself away from your door, trying to swallow the raw feeling in his throat, heartbeat ringing in his ears. 

He had mistaken your tone for indifference — your nervous laugh for humor.

Little did he know how hopeful you were — how your heart had skipped a beat at his name, flaring with hope at the thought of him sitting there carefully writing out letters, writing out your name. There was something so intimate about the thought of his hands carving your name out in ink, marking it like it was something important to him. 

You had silently hoped it was him, your heart fluttering at the possibility that he liked you back. It was stupid. If he did — he would’ve said something. Would’ve hinted at it, shown some sort of sign. But he hadn’t. At least, in your mind. 

So stupid Bucky, why would she want the letters to be from you? She probably thinks they’re from some great guy who’s right for her, someone who’s good. Not him. 

His head drops to his hands, heart aching with a loss he didn’t quite understand. You weren’t his. Never had been. He thinks back to all the times you’d made him breakfast, all the times you’d offered him books like they were small pieces of yourself. The way your body rested into his like he was safe. Like he was yours. You were probably just being nice to him. Probably took pity on the guy no-one else bothered much with. 

Yeah it had to be that. 

So Bucky stops. He stops sending letters. He stops trying to impress you, hoping you’d turn around and notice him. He stops following you around like a lost puppy. He stops leaning on you when he’s tired. Stops coming to you when he needs to vent. The loneliness of it hits him harder than he expected. It hits you too, but you’d never been one to push Bucky — always letting him come to you, never wanting to scare him off or make him uncomfortable. 

So you sit back quietly and watch as the man you care for so deeply pulls himself away. 

With no explanation. 

You had become accustomed to receiving the letters, disappointed when there isn’t one at your door. You treasure them — have a small stack of them carefully placed on your desk, your heart giving a giddy jump every time you see them. You admire the handwriting — something familiar about it in that way where you remember the tune to a song but not the lyrics — driving you crazy trying to figure it out. 

The scent of lavender and something warm and comforting you can’t quite place your finger on. The soft smudges of ink, like he had been worrying over what to write next. The careful way the seal was pressed down, the way there was always a little pressed flower with each. 

It had been weeks since the last letter. Weeks since your last movie night with Bucky. And the loneliness hits you hard. You scroll on your phone until there’s nothing left to look at, text friends that take hours to respond. Swipe through dating apps, answering messages like ‘wyd?’ and ‘u up?’ 

You miss the letters. 

But you miss Bucky more. 

“What’s going on with you Buck?” Steve sits across from Bucky in his room, watching as his best friend shrugs with a blank look on his face. 

Steve probes further; asks about you, why Bucky hasn’t been talking to you much, why he’s been avoiding you like no tomorrow. 

Bucky sighs, dragging his hand down his face. He’s tired. He feels it deep in his bones, the questions dragging through him like sandpaper. He winces at the sound of your name. 

He misses you.

More than he cares to admit. 

So he tells Steve about the letters, about how he’d overhead you with Nat, laughing at the thought of it being Bucky that had sent them. 

Steve shakes his head in disbelief. 

“God, you can be stupid sometimes Buck.” 

Bucky looks up so fast, frowning at Steve in a way that could only mean he had no idea what Steve was talking about. 

“She likes you. Anyone can see it. You know you’re the first person she asks about when we get back from a mission. The first person she runs to when she’s been hurt. She curls up to you like you’re the only thing that keeps her safe. I’ve seen it, Buck.” Steve places his hand on Bucky’s knee, punctuating his words.

Bucky feels like he could cry as he takes it all in. He’s looking at the floor, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Keeps her safe. 

He couldn’t imagine anyone thinking of him as their safe space. Not after everything he’s done. Everything he is. Was. 

He remembers the way you’ve come to him late at night when you’d had a nightmare, trusting him to be the one to bring you back to reality. The way you’d call him when you felt unsafe on a night out. The way you’d tuck your face into his chest when watching a scary movie. 

Bucky furrows his brow, head dipping to rest in his hands as he lets out a loud groan. 

“Buck, listen, her laughing and saying ‘no way’ was probably at herself because she wants it to have been you, but she doesn’t want to get her hopes up.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah I do.” And who couldn’t believe Steve when he nods at you all solemn and smiles like he’s got all the answers. 

They talk for hours; Bucky finally starting to believe that maybe — just maybe — you feel the way he does. That you’d wanted the letters to be from him. That you wanted him to be yours. That the only reason you hadn’t said anything is because you wanted him to be ready. 

You’re dragging your feet down the hallway to your room. You were supposed to be on a mission — a quick in and out — when Tony had insisted you take the day off. You had protested loudly but he wasn’t having it, sending you to your room to rest after your eyes had slipped shut for the fourth time during the briefing. 

“Bucky?” 

He’s standing at your door, back turned when he whips around at the sound of your voice. 

“Doll— you’re— I um—” He scratches the back of his neck, eyes avoiding you like he might catch on fire if he looks at you. 

Your eyes land on his metal hand. 

Your heart stops. 

A letter. 

You feel as though you could fall over — a million emotions running through you at once. 

Bucky’s frozen. Feet stuck in place like they’ve been cemented to the floor. 

Say something. Anything. 

“I was just—” 

“Bucky, I swear to god if this is some kind of joke—” Your eyes tear up, blood rushing to your face fast. 

Bucky’s head whips up at that, moving over to you so quickly, it knocks the wind out of you. You inhale sharply as his eyes meet yours. So blue and beautiful. He’s so close.  

“It’s not a joke doll, I swear.” 

“So…so they were from you? And you weren’t joking?” Your breathing picks up, eyes boring into his, heart slamming against your ribs as his scent washes over you, his warmth. 

“I’m sorry. It was so stupid. I only meant to leave you one. But then I saw you grinning and showing off to Nat and you looked so happy…I just—” He trails off, flesh hand coming to meet yours, letting his finger hook into the bracelet on your wrist, as if to ground himself.

“I just— I just wanted to see you smile like that again. I wanted to be the reason you laughed. The reason you were so happy. I— I always…” his voice trails off, his head hanging like he’s ashamed. 

“Bucky…” Your voice is warm, torn around the edges, limbs heavy and chest burning bright. Your right hand comes to rest on the side of his face and Bucky melts into it, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Do you— do you want to read it?” He’s holding out the letter. You pull your hand away from him, stepping back slightly and Bucky involuntarily leans towards you. He wants to pull you back in by your waist — wants you to crowd his personal space like his and yours are one and the same. 

You bite your lip, holding back a smile as you nod slowly, already reaching for the letter. 

“Bucky I— I—” You let out a soft sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, hands shaking slightly as you grip the letter, creasing the edges. 

Bucky’s eyes search your face frantically. 

“Fuck sweetheart you’re crying. I knew I shouldn’t have—” 

He’s cut off by your hands on either side of his face, the letter scratching his skin slightly. 

“Bucky. I love it. I’ve loved every single letter.” 

You fold the letter into your pocket, hands coming to rest on his face again, thumb stroking his jaw lovingly as you gaze into his eyes. His flesh hand comes to rest over yours, breath catching in his throat at how close you are. You’re so beautiful like this. All soft and teary and looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, hugging him close to you, hands tangling in the hair on the base of his neck as your lips come to rest at his ear. Bucky pulls you in closer, metal hand resting on the small of your back as his face molds to the shape of your neck. 

“I forgive you Bucky. Thank you, I mean it. For the letters, for the flowers, the poem, the bookmark; for apologizing, for telling me how you feel. All of it. It was…perfect.” 

You pull back to look at him, fingers still gently tracing the skin on the nape of his neck. 

“And— and I’m kind of crazy about you too. You’re my safe space. The only person I want. I was…” Your head drops shyly. 

“I was secretly hoping they were from you.” 

Steve was right. 

Bucky lets out a soft laugh, letting his forehead rest gently against yours. His fingers trace your waist softly, palms pressing into your sides.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You can’t help the stupid smile on your face, grinning through tears as Bucky’s nose nudges yours in the softest, gentlest moment. 

“Can I— can I kiss you?” He says it so softly, he’s worried you don’t hear him. 

You nod.  

Bucky’s lips meet yours — soft and sweet and full of every single feeling he’s been holding back — pouring everything he has into the way his lips move with yours. You taste like strawberry gum and cherry chapstick. 

It’s intoxicating. 

Bucky wants more, more, more. He kisses you harder, hand gripping your jaw, guiding your mouth along his. Your knees almost give out when his tongue softly traces yours, pressing yourself into him until there’s not a single part of you that isn’t consumed by him. 

You pull back, lips swollen and breathless, forehead resting against his. You let out a soft laugh as Bucky’s lips chase yours, leaving soft pecks before he pulls back, grinning. 

Your eyes meet his — soft like he can't quite believe this is happening.

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you Bucky.”

a/n: i might post a version where the letters are just text because they're a bit hard to read as pics.

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