Hello, lovelies! Welcome to Navy's Marina, otherwise known as my blog. Below are some links and posts to help you get around. Thank you to @sgt-seabass for my beautiful headers and @rookthorne for my lovely divider! 💙
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You should totally do something for Bullseye in the future I think you’d do his character justice with his creepy possessive yet submissive yearning
I am undecided bc I need to rewatch and catch up tbh. I know when I initially watched his season of the original DD run, I was so annoyed I couldn't really feel anything more than that haha.
But please do check out @navybrat817! She writes for his character.
If anyone else has recs, send them and I'll reblog with a list for writers of this character.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: A hug and kiss from Bucky can do wonders.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, term of endearment (sweetheart), rough day, being tired, fluff, tenderness, protective vibes, Bucky's trauma referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I still don't have a lot of time to write, but I managed a little something. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your life had been busy lately, but manageable. You wouldn’t say you were thriving, but you were surviving and that was enough for now. But today? It was a rough one. Nothing seemed to go your way. Not to mention, the weariness in your bones reminded you that you had to stop running on fumes.
You barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, groaning as you buried your face in the cushion. You only lifted your head to breathe and check your phone when it went off. A smile touched your lips when you sat that Bucky texted you.
No matter how rough the days were, your boyfriend was a bright spot.
“Barely heard from you today, sweetheart. You okay?”
Your heart sank when you scrolled through the chat. You usually sent him memes or gifs that you knew would make him laugh, along with sweet messages to let him know you were thinking of him. Today you hardly sent a thing with everything going on.
It was touching that he noticed something was off.
“Rough day. Sorry I worried you.”
You curled up with a yawn, the phone resting beside you.
“Just resting my eyes,” you mumbled.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of your apartment, making you sit up slowly. Your heart fluttered, not needing to look out the window because you knew exactly who was there. One of your favorite people.
Bucky.
Your Bucky.
The sudden knock at the door sounded impatient as you stood up and stretched. You almost laughed when the knock continued, louder and more persistent. Maybe it was time to give him a key.
You barely got the door open before Bucky pushed his way inside, forcing you to step back as he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off you. Your breath rushed out of your lungs when you looked him over. The sight of him in a leather jacket always did something to you.
But the crease between his brows pushed the excitement away.
“Bucky?” you asked.
A small sound left your mouth when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his hold protective and tender. It felt like your feet weren’t on the ground.
“I’m here,” he answered, his voice rough and low. “I’ve got you.”
You felt his heart beat against you steadily, grounding you as your fingers curled in his jacket. The scent of leather and cologne filled your nostrils as you took a deep breath. Your eyes burned suddenly when he held you tighter, almost like he was giving you permission to fall apart if you wanted to. It wasn’t just a hug.
It was exactly what you needed without realizing it.
“I’ve got you,” he said again, his lips touching your temple.
You didn’t break down, but you did sniffle.
“Today sucked,” you said, proud of yourself for not pouting.
It sounded ridiculous. Bucky had lived through years of torture, brainwashing and more. You hadn’t experienced even a tenth of the pain he endured and you were whining about-
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, rubbing your back soothingly. He never invalidated your feelings. “I’ll listen if you wanna talk about it, or I can punch something or someone if it makes you feel better.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No punching,” you said, pulling back far enough to look at him. “Did you really speed all the way here because I said I had a rough day? I know you sped.”
“I may have.” The small smile on his face made you smile. “You tell me something like that and you think I won’t drop everything to get to you?”
Your heart skipped a beat. No other boyfriend dropped whatever they were doing to get to you in the past. But Bucky always managed to find ways to put you first. The male species could learn a thing or two from him.
“You were probably busy,” you guessed.
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s more important than you.”
Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You don’t have to thank me for showing up,” he said, grasping your chin carefully. “Can I do one more thing?”
His mouth found yours before you finished nodding.
It wasn’t a rushed or hungry kiss. It was something warm and impossibly gentle, like the grip on your chin, a kind of kiss that resonated in your core. He deepened it, like he needed a reminder that you were real and safe as he comforted you.
It felt like love.
His forehead rested against yours when he broke the kiss. “Did that help at all?” he asked, his breath ghosting your lips and thumb stroking your chin.
“More than you know,” you murmured, leaning into him.
“Good.” He pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Did you eat?”
Your silence answered that question.
He sighed, not waiting for permission as he walked you backward toward your couch. “I’m ordering your favorite,” he said, pulling you onto his lap once he took a seat. His jacket was still on. “And I’m gonna hold you until it gets here, feed you if you let me, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”
You settled into him, your body truly relaxing this time. “Even watch a bad romcom?” you asked, still in awe of how much he wanted to take care of you.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. “If that’s what helps.”
“Getting a hug and kiss from you did wonders,” you said honestly.
Knowing that someone saw you made a world of difference.
“Wonders, huh? Didn’t know I was that powerful,” he teased, taking out his phone to order.
You giggled and titled your head a bit. “You didn’t tell me about your day.”
“I got to see you,” he said, smiling gently. “So it’s a good day.”
And being in Bucky’s arms made your day much better.
I know a hug and kiss from Bucky would help me, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Summary: A hug and kiss from Bucky can do wonders.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, term of endearment (sweetheart), rough day, being tired, fluff, tenderness, protective vibes, Bucky's trauma referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I still don't have a lot of time to write, but I managed a little something. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your life had been busy lately, but manageable. You wouldn’t say you were thriving, but you were surviving and that was enough for now. But today? It was a rough one. Nothing seemed to go your way. Not to mention, the weariness in your bones reminded you that you had to stop running on fumes.
You barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, groaning as you buried your face in the cushion. You only lifted your head to breathe and check your phone when it went off. A smile touched your lips when you sat that Bucky texted you.
No matter how rough the days were, your boyfriend was a bright spot.
“Barely heard from you today, sweetheart. You okay?”
Your heart sank when you scrolled through the chat. You usually sent him memes or gifs that you knew would make him laugh, along with sweet messages to let him know you were thinking of him. Today you hardly sent a thing with everything going on.
It was touching that he noticed something was off.
“Rough day. Sorry I worried you.”
You curled up with a yawn, the phone resting beside you.
“Just resting my eyes,” you mumbled.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of your apartment, making you sit up slowly. Your heart fluttered, not needing to look out the window because you knew exactly who was there. One of your favorite people.
Bucky.
Your Bucky.
The sudden knock at the door sounded impatient as you stood up and stretched. You almost laughed when the knock continued, louder and more persistent. Maybe it was time to give him a key.
You barely got the door open before Bucky pushed his way inside, forcing you to step back as he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off you. Your breath rushed out of your lungs when you looked him over. The sight of him in a leather jacket always did something to you.
But the crease between his brows pushed the excitement away.
“Bucky?” you asked.
A small sound left your mouth when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his hold protective and tender. It felt like your feet weren’t on the ground.
“I’m here,” he answered, his voice rough and low. “I’ve got you.”
You felt his heart beat against you steadily, grounding you as your fingers curled in his jacket. The scent of leather and cologne filled your nostrils as you took a deep breath. Your eyes burned suddenly when he held you tighter, almost like he was giving you permission to fall apart if you wanted to. It wasn’t just a hug.
It was exactly what you needed without realizing it.
“I’ve got you,” he said again, his lips touching your temple.
You didn’t break down, but you did sniffle.
“Today sucked,” you said, proud of yourself for not pouting.
It sounded ridiculous. Bucky had lived through years of torture, brainwashing and more. You hadn’t experienced even a tenth of the pain he endured and you were whining about-
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, rubbing your back soothingly. He never invalidated your feelings. “I’ll listen if you wanna talk about it, or I can punch something or someone if it makes you feel better.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No punching,” you said, pulling back far enough to look at him. “Did you really speed all the way here because I said I had a rough day? I know you sped.”
“I may have.” The small smile on his face made you smile. “You tell me something like that and you think I won’t drop everything to get to you?”
Your heart skipped a beat. No other boyfriend dropped whatever they were doing to get to you in the past. But Bucky always managed to find ways to put you first. The male species could learn a thing or two from him.
“You were probably busy,” you guessed.
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s more important than you.”
Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You don’t have to thank me for showing up,” he said, grasping your chin carefully. “Can I do one more thing?”
His mouth found yours before you finished nodding.
It wasn’t a rushed or hungry kiss. It was something warm and impossibly gentle, like the grip on your chin, a kind of kiss that resonated in your core. He deepened it, like he needed a reminder that you were real and safe as he comforted you.
It felt like love.
His forehead rested against yours when he broke the kiss. “Did that help at all?” he asked, his breath ghosting your lips and thumb stroking your chin.
“More than you know,” you murmured, leaning into him.
“Good.” He pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Did you eat?”
Your silence answered that question.
He sighed, not waiting for permission as he walked you backward toward your couch. “I’m ordering your favorite,” he said, pulling you onto his lap once he took a seat. His jacket was still on. “And I’m gonna hold you until it gets here, feed you if you let me, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”
You settled into him, your body truly relaxing this time. “Even watch a bad romcom?” you asked, still in awe of how much he wanted to take care of you.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. “If that’s what helps.”
“Getting a hug and kiss from you did wonders,” you said honestly.
Knowing that someone saw you made a world of difference.
“Wonders, huh? Didn’t know I was that powerful,” he teased, taking out his phone to order.
You giggled and titled your head a bit. “You didn’t tell me about your day.”
“I got to see you,” he said, smiling gently. “So it’s a good day.”
And being in Bucky’s arms made your day much better.
I know a hug and kiss from Bucky would help me, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Summary: A hug and kiss from Bucky can do wonders.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, term of endearment (sweetheart), rough day, being tired, fluff, tenderness, protective vibes, Bucky's trauma referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I still don't have a lot of time to write, but I managed a little something. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your life had been busy lately, but manageable. You wouldn’t say you were thriving, but you were surviving and that was enough for now. But today? It was a rough one. Nothing seemed to go your way. Not to mention, the weariness in your bones reminded you that you had to stop running on fumes.
You barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, groaning as you buried your face in the cushion. You only lifted your head to breathe and check your phone when it went off. A smile touched your lips when you sat that Bucky texted you.
No matter how rough the days were, your boyfriend was a bright spot.
“Barely heard from you today, sweetheart. You okay?”
Your heart sank when you scrolled through the chat. You usually sent him memes or gifs that you knew would make him laugh, along with sweet messages to let him know you were thinking of him. Today you hardly sent a thing with everything going on.
It was touching that he noticed something was off.
“Rough day. Sorry I worried you.”
You curled up with a yawn, the phone resting beside you.
“Just resting my eyes,” you mumbled.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of your apartment, making you sit up slowly. Your heart fluttered, not needing to look out the window because you knew exactly who was there. One of your favorite people.
Bucky.
Your Bucky.
The sudden knock at the door sounded impatient as you stood up and stretched. You almost laughed when the knock continued, louder and more persistent. Maybe it was time to give him a key.
You barely got the door open before Bucky pushed his way inside, forcing you to step back as he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off you. Your breath rushed out of your lungs when you looked him over. The sight of him in a leather jacket always did something to you.
But the crease between his brows pushed the excitement away.
“Bucky?” you asked.
A small sound left your mouth when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his hold protective and tender. It felt like your feet weren’t on the ground.
“I’m here,” he answered, his voice rough and low. “I’ve got you.”
You felt his heart beat against you steadily, grounding you as your fingers curled in his jacket. The scent of leather and cologne filled your nostrils as you took a deep breath. Your eyes burned suddenly when he held you tighter, almost like he was giving you permission to fall apart if you wanted to. It wasn’t just a hug.
It was exactly what you needed without realizing it.
“I’ve got you,” he said again, his lips touching your temple.
You didn’t break down, but you did sniffle.
“Today sucked,” you said, proud of yourself for not pouting.
It sounded ridiculous. Bucky had lived through years of torture, brainwashing and more. You hadn’t experienced even a tenth of the pain he endured and you were whining about-
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, rubbing your back soothingly. He never invalidated your feelings. “I’ll listen if you wanna talk about it, or I can punch something or someone if it makes you feel better.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No punching,” you said, pulling back far enough to look at him. “Did you really speed all the way here because I said I had a rough day? I know you sped.”
“I may have.” The small smile on his face made you smile. “You tell me something like that and you think I won’t drop everything to get to you?”
Your heart skipped a beat. No other boyfriend dropped whatever they were doing to get to you in the past. But Bucky always managed to find ways to put you first. The male species could learn a thing or two from him.
“You were probably busy,” you guessed.
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s more important than you.”
Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You don’t have to thank me for showing up,” he said, grasping your chin carefully. “Can I do one more thing?”
His mouth found yours before you finished nodding.
It wasn’t a rushed or hungry kiss. It was something warm and impossibly gentle, like the grip on your chin, a kind of kiss that resonated in your core. He deepened it, like he needed a reminder that you were real and safe as he comforted you.
It felt like love.
His forehead rested against yours when he broke the kiss. “Did that help at all?” he asked, his breath ghosting your lips and thumb stroking your chin.
“More than you know,” you murmured, leaning into him.
“Good.” He pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Did you eat?”
Your silence answered that question.
He sighed, not waiting for permission as he walked you backward toward your couch. “I’m ordering your favorite,” he said, pulling you onto his lap once he took a seat. His jacket was still on. “And I’m gonna hold you until it gets here, feed you if you let me, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”
You settled into him, your body truly relaxing this time. “Even watch a bad romcom?” you asked, still in awe of how much he wanted to take care of you.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. “If that’s what helps.”
“Getting a hug and kiss from you did wonders,” you said honestly.
Knowing that someone saw you made a world of difference.
“Wonders, huh? Didn’t know I was that powerful,” he teased, taking out his phone to order.
You giggled and titled your head a bit. “You didn’t tell me about your day.”
“I got to see you,” he said, smiling gently. “So it’s a good day.”
And being in Bucky’s arms made your day much better.
I know a hug and kiss from Bucky would help me, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Summary: A hug and kiss from Bucky can do wonders.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, term of endearment (sweetheart), rough day, being tired, fluff, tenderness, protective vibes, Bucky's trauma referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I still don't have a lot of time to write, but I managed a little something. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your life had been busy lately, but manageable. You wouldn’t say you were thriving, but you were surviving and that was enough for now. But today? It was a rough one. Nothing seemed to go your way. Not to mention, the weariness in your bones reminded you that you had to stop running on fumes.
You barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, groaning as you buried your face in the cushion. You only lifted your head to breathe and check your phone when it went off. A smile touched your lips when you sat that Bucky texted you.
No matter how rough the days were, your boyfriend was a bright spot.
“Barely heard from you today, sweetheart. You okay?”
Your heart sank when you scrolled through the chat. You usually sent him memes or gifs that you knew would make him laugh, along with sweet messages to let him know you were thinking of him. Today you hardly sent a thing with everything going on.
It was touching that he noticed something was off.
“Rough day. Sorry I worried you.”
You curled up with a yawn, the phone resting beside you.
“Just resting my eyes,” you mumbled.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of your apartment, making you sit up slowly. Your heart fluttered, not needing to look out the window because you knew exactly who was there. One of your favorite people.
Bucky.
Your Bucky.
The sudden knock at the door sounded impatient as you stood up and stretched. You almost laughed when the knock continued, louder and more persistent. Maybe it was time to give him a key.
You barely got the door open before Bucky pushed his way inside, forcing you to step back as he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off you. Your breath rushed out of your lungs when you looked him over. The sight of him in a leather jacket always did something to you.
But the crease between his brows pushed the excitement away.
“Bucky?” you asked.
A small sound left your mouth when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his hold protective and tender. It felt like your feet weren’t on the ground.
“I’m here,” he answered, his voice rough and low. “I’ve got you.”
You felt his heart beat against you steadily, grounding you as your fingers curled in his jacket. The scent of leather and cologne filled your nostrils as you took a deep breath. Your eyes burned suddenly when he held you tighter, almost like he was giving you permission to fall apart if you wanted to. It wasn’t just a hug.
It was exactly what you needed without realizing it.
“I’ve got you,” he said again, his lips touching your temple.
You didn’t break down, but you did sniffle.
“Today sucked,” you said, proud of yourself for not pouting.
It sounded ridiculous. Bucky had lived through years of torture, brainwashing and more. You hadn’t experienced even a tenth of the pain he endured and you were whining about-
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, rubbing your back soothingly. He never invalidated your feelings. “I’ll listen if you wanna talk about it, or I can punch something or someone if it makes you feel better.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No punching,” you said, pulling back far enough to look at him. “Did you really speed all the way here because I said I had a rough day? I know you sped.”
“I may have.” The small smile on his face made you smile. “You tell me something like that and you think I won’t drop everything to get to you?”
Your heart skipped a beat. No other boyfriend dropped whatever they were doing to get to you in the past. But Bucky always managed to find ways to put you first. The male species could learn a thing or two from him.
“You were probably busy,” you guessed.
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s more important than you.”
Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You don’t have to thank me for showing up,” he said, grasping your chin carefully. “Can I do one more thing?”
His mouth found yours before you finished nodding.
It wasn’t a rushed or hungry kiss. It was something warm and impossibly gentle, like the grip on your chin, a kind of kiss that resonated in your core. He deepened it, like he needed a reminder that you were real and safe as he comforted you.
It felt like love.
His forehead rested against yours when he broke the kiss. “Did that help at all?” he asked, his breath ghosting your lips and thumb stroking your chin.
“More than you know,” you murmured, leaning into him.
“Good.” He pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Did you eat?”
Your silence answered that question.
He sighed, not waiting for permission as he walked you backward toward your couch. “I’m ordering your favorite,” he said, pulling you onto his lap once he took a seat. His jacket was still on. “And I’m gonna hold you until it gets here, feed you if you let me, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”
You settled into him, your body truly relaxing this time. “Even watch a bad romcom?” you asked, still in awe of how much he wanted to take care of you.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. “If that’s what helps.”
“Getting a hug and kiss from you did wonders,” you said honestly.
Knowing that someone saw you made a world of difference.
“Wonders, huh? Didn’t know I was that powerful,” he teased, taking out his phone to order.
You giggled and titled your head a bit. “You didn’t tell me about your day.”
“I got to see you,” he said, smiling gently. “So it’s a good day.”
And being in Bucky’s arms made your day much better.
I know a hug and kiss from Bucky would help me, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Summary: A hug and kiss from Bucky can do wonders.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, term of endearment (sweetheart), rough day, being tired, fluff, tenderness, protective vibes, Bucky's trauma referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I still don't have a lot of time to write, but I managed a little something. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your life had been busy lately, but manageable. You wouldn’t say you were thriving, but you were surviving and that was enough for now. But today? It was a rough one. Nothing seemed to go your way. Not to mention, the weariness in your bones reminded you that you had to stop running on fumes.
You barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, groaning as you buried your face in the cushion. You only lifted your head to breathe and check your phone when it went off. A smile touched your lips when you sat that Bucky texted you.
No matter how rough the days were, your boyfriend was a bright spot.
“Barely heard from you today, sweetheart. You okay?”
Your heart sank when you scrolled through the chat. You usually sent him memes or gifs that you knew would make him laugh, along with sweet messages to let him know you were thinking of him. Today you hardly sent a thing with everything going on.
It was touching that he noticed something was off.
“Rough day. Sorry I worried you.”
You curled up with a yawn, the phone resting beside you.
“Just resting my eyes,” you mumbled.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of your apartment, making you sit up slowly. Your heart fluttered, not needing to look out the window because you knew exactly who was there. One of your favorite people.
Bucky.
Your Bucky.
The sudden knock at the door sounded impatient as you stood up and stretched. You almost laughed when the knock continued, louder and more persistent. Maybe it was time to give him a key.
You barely got the door open before Bucky pushed his way inside, forcing you to step back as he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off you. Your breath rushed out of your lungs when you looked him over. The sight of him in a leather jacket always did something to you.
But the crease between his brows pushed the excitement away.
“Bucky?” you asked.
A small sound left your mouth when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his hold protective and tender. It felt like your feet weren’t on the ground.
“I’m here,” he answered, his voice rough and low. “I’ve got you.”
You felt his heart beat against you steadily, grounding you as your fingers curled in his jacket. The scent of leather and cologne filled your nostrils as you took a deep breath. Your eyes burned suddenly when he held you tighter, almost like he was giving you permission to fall apart if you wanted to. It wasn’t just a hug.
It was exactly what you needed without realizing it.
“I’ve got you,” he said again, his lips touching your temple.
You didn’t break down, but you did sniffle.
“Today sucked,” you said, proud of yourself for not pouting.
It sounded ridiculous. Bucky had lived through years of torture, brainwashing and more. You hadn’t experienced even a tenth of the pain he endured and you were whining about-
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, rubbing your back soothingly. He never invalidated your feelings. “I’ll listen if you wanna talk about it, or I can punch something or someone if it makes you feel better.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No punching,” you said, pulling back far enough to look at him. “Did you really speed all the way here because I said I had a rough day? I know you sped.”
“I may have.” The small smile on his face made you smile. “You tell me something like that and you think I won’t drop everything to get to you?”
Your heart skipped a beat. No other boyfriend dropped whatever they were doing to get to you in the past. But Bucky always managed to find ways to put you first. The male species could learn a thing or two from him.
“You were probably busy,” you guessed.
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s more important than you.”
Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You don’t have to thank me for showing up,” he said, grasping your chin carefully. “Can I do one more thing?”
His mouth found yours before you finished nodding.
It wasn’t a rushed or hungry kiss. It was something warm and impossibly gentle, like the grip on your chin, a kind of kiss that resonated in your core. He deepened it, like he needed a reminder that you were real and safe as he comforted you.
It felt like love.
His forehead rested against yours when he broke the kiss. “Did that help at all?” he asked, his breath ghosting your lips and thumb stroking your chin.
“More than you know,” you murmured, leaning into him.
“Good.” He pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Did you eat?”
Your silence answered that question.
He sighed, not waiting for permission as he walked you backward toward your couch. “I’m ordering your favorite,” he said, pulling you onto his lap once he took a seat. His jacket was still on. “And I’m gonna hold you until it gets here, feed you if you let me, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”
You settled into him, your body truly relaxing this time. “Even watch a bad romcom?” you asked, still in awe of how much he wanted to take care of you.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. “If that’s what helps.”
“Getting a hug and kiss from you did wonders,” you said honestly.
Knowing that someone saw you made a world of difference.
“Wonders, huh? Didn’t know I was that powerful,” he teased, taking out his phone to order.
You giggled and titled your head a bit. “You didn’t tell me about your day.”
“I got to see you,” he said, smiling gently. “So it’s a good day.”
And being in Bucky’s arms made your day much better.
I know a hug and kiss from Bucky would help me, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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Summary: A hug and kiss from Bucky can do wonders.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: Established relationship, term of endearment (sweetheart), rough day, being tired, fluff, tenderness, protective vibes, Bucky's trauma referenced, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I still don't have a lot of time to write, but I managed a little something. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Your life had been busy lately, but manageable. You wouldn’t say you were thriving, but you were surviving and that was enough for now. But today? It was a rough one. Nothing seemed to go your way. Not to mention, the weariness in your bones reminded you that you had to stop running on fumes.
You barely made it to the couch before you collapsed, groaning as you buried your face in the cushion. You only lifted your head to breathe and check your phone when it went off. A smile touched your lips when you sat that Bucky texted you.
No matter how rough the days were, your boyfriend was a bright spot.
“Barely heard from you today, sweetheart. You okay?”
Your heart sank when you scrolled through the chat. You usually sent him memes or gifs that you knew would make him laugh, along with sweet messages to let him know you were thinking of him. Today you hardly sent a thing with everything going on.
It was touching that he noticed something was off.
“Rough day. Sorry I worried you.”
You curled up with a yawn, the phone resting beside you.
“Just resting my eyes,” you mumbled.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed when the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of your apartment, making you sit up slowly. Your heart fluttered, not needing to look out the window because you knew exactly who was there. One of your favorite people.
Bucky.
Your Bucky.
The sudden knock at the door sounded impatient as you stood up and stretched. You almost laughed when the knock continued, louder and more persistent. Maybe it was time to give him a key.
You barely got the door open before Bucky pushed his way inside, forcing you to step back as he kicked the door shut without taking his eyes off you. Your breath rushed out of your lungs when you looked him over. The sight of him in a leather jacket always did something to you.
But the crease between his brows pushed the excitement away.
“Bucky?” you asked.
A small sound left your mouth when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. His other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his hold protective and tender. It felt like your feet weren’t on the ground.
“I’m here,” he answered, his voice rough and low. “I’ve got you.”
You felt his heart beat against you steadily, grounding you as your fingers curled in his jacket. The scent of leather and cologne filled your nostrils as you took a deep breath. Your eyes burned suddenly when he held you tighter, almost like he was giving you permission to fall apart if you wanted to. It wasn’t just a hug.
It was exactly what you needed without realizing it.
“I’ve got you,” he said again, his lips touching your temple.
You didn’t break down, but you did sniffle.
“Today sucked,” you said, proud of yourself for not pouting.
It sounded ridiculous. Bucky had lived through years of torture, brainwashing and more. You hadn’t experienced even a tenth of the pain he endured and you were whining about-
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, rubbing your back soothingly. He never invalidated your feelings. “I’ll listen if you wanna talk about it, or I can punch something or someone if it makes you feel better.”
You let out a watery laugh. “No punching,” you said, pulling back far enough to look at him. “Did you really speed all the way here because I said I had a rough day? I know you sped.”
“I may have.” The small smile on his face made you smile. “You tell me something like that and you think I won’t drop everything to get to you?”
Your heart skipped a beat. No other boyfriend dropped whatever they were doing to get to you in the past. But Bucky always managed to find ways to put you first. The male species could learn a thing or two from him.
“You were probably busy,” you guessed.
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s more important than you.”
Your eyes burned again, but you blinked the tears away. “Thank you.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You don’t have to thank me for showing up,” he said, grasping your chin carefully. “Can I do one more thing?”
His mouth found yours before you finished nodding.
It wasn’t a rushed or hungry kiss. It was something warm and impossibly gentle, like the grip on your chin, a kind of kiss that resonated in your core. He deepened it, like he needed a reminder that you were real and safe as he comforted you.
It felt like love.
His forehead rested against yours when he broke the kiss. “Did that help at all?” he asked, his breath ghosting your lips and thumb stroking your chin.
“More than you know,” you murmured, leaning into him.
“Good.” He pressed another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Did you eat?”
Your silence answered that question.
He sighed, not waiting for permission as he walked you backward toward your couch. “I’m ordering your favorite,” he said, pulling you onto his lap once he took a seat. His jacket was still on. “And I’m gonna hold you until it gets here, feed you if you let me, and do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”
You settled into him, your body truly relaxing this time. “Even watch a bad romcom?” you asked, still in awe of how much he wanted to take care of you.
He rested his chin on your shoulder. “If that’s what helps.”
“Getting a hug and kiss from you did wonders,” you said honestly.
Knowing that someone saw you made a world of difference.
“Wonders, huh? Didn’t know I was that powerful,” he teased, taking out his phone to order.
You giggled and titled your head a bit. “You didn’t tell me about your day.”
“I got to see you,” he said, smiling gently. “So it’s a good day.”
And being in Bucky’s arms made your day much better.
I know a hug and kiss from Bucky would help me, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Pairing: Soft!Dark Benjamin Poindexter x Female Reader
Summary: Dex loves coming home and seeing you in his bed.
Word Count: Over 1.4k
Warnings: Established relationship (or is it?), pet name (sweetheart), implied sex, dubcon/noncon bondage, dubcon kissing, gaslighting, manipulation, stalking, surveillance, possessive and obsessive behavior, power imbalance, unreliable narrator Dex (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: First thing I managed to write in ages! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Dex came home late tonight. It was technically morning since it was well after midnight, but it was too dark and early for you to be awake. Knowing you were asleep in his bedroom was why he was so careful when he shut the door and set his keys in the bowl. You needed your rest.
Lord knows he wore you out earlier.
He stripped his jacket off, followed by his shoes to pad quietly across the floor. He rolled his shoulders to ease the ache. Tried to ignore the pounding in his head and block out how loud everything was in his mind. It wasn’t easy to shake some days.
Corruption and pressure threatened to make his walls crumble. His strict moral code and stabilizers were stripped away to almost nothing. Fisk exploited him.
But the moment he saw you in his bed, he exhaled some of the tension and smiled.
His North Star.
It was hard to believe some days that he had someone like you. He considered himself lucky to have someone so good. So perfect.
Light spilled into the room as he opened the door completely. He didn’t approach right away, content just to hear your soft and steady breathing. You were curled up slightly, tucked under the comforter right where he left you. Where you belonged.
He let out a breath, his fingers flexing. You were there. You were real.
The mattress dipped under his weight after he lifted the comforter, still careful so he didn’t disturb you yet. He should’ve showered and changed, but he had to hold you. Listening and watching you could only satisfy him so much.
He slid in easily beside you, something loosening in his chest when he wrapped an arm around your waist. His nose brushed your neck, his lips following. You were so soft. So warm.
Everything that he dealt with outside of his place, the visions of blood and a dark abyss, it all faded away thanks to you.
He nearly groaned when you sighed, his eyes briefly shutting. It was the same sound you let out every time he slowly entered you. Every sound you made was music to his ears, but that one in particular got beneath his skin and swam in his veins.
Maybe it was because it was gentle and he didn’t have many gentle things in his life.
“Missed you, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Thought of you all night. It kept me going.”
He suddenly pictured the first time you smiled at him. It was on a rainy day, and your smile made the day brighter. It was one of the most genuine things he had ever seen. In a city full of liars, you were something that remained true.
It was something he had to keep for himself.
Your breathing changed when his mouth moved back to your neck and his fingers dug into your waist, making him smile gently. You weren’t quite awake yet. But you were getting there.
“You’re so good, you know that?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “So good to stay right here. Waiting for me.”
Coming home to you made him feel normal because it was something that normal people craved. Stability. Love. He deserved that. He deserved good things.
He deserved you.
He lifted his head in time to see your eyes flutter open. The innocence in your gaze was a stark contrast to the predatory gleam in his. Even as he smiled, he looked like a wolf about to sink his teeth in.
And you were such a delicious meal.
“...Dex?” you asked groggily.
He craved the way you said his name.
“Yeah,” he said, his fingers brushing your cheek as you blinked the sleepiness away. “I’m home.”
He saw the confusion flicker across your face when you shifted your body. Well, you tried to at least. The bindings wrapped securely around your wrists and headboard didn’t exactly give you much room to move around. That was the whole point.
“Dex… What…”
He frowned when the confusion bled into panic, his hand pressing firmly but not harshly on your chest to keep you as still as possible. Your heart raced faster beneath his palm and your eyes widened, your fear evident as he tilted his head. He understood why you were scared and yet he didn’t get it at all. He wasn’t going to hurt you.
He’d never hurt you.
But he should’ve anticipated this.
“Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said with practiced ease, kissing your forehead and letting his mouth rest there to ease your frightened expression. “I’ve got you.”
“You… Did you…” Your breath hitched. “You tied me up?!”
He did after he ruined you, cleaned you up, and made sure you were fast asleep. His hand had drifted to your hip, your body pliant and willing, before he stopped himself. He’d save that for another night. The two of you had a lifetime to make every fantasy come true.
Every dream, too.
“Yeah I did, but you’re safe,” he assured you.
A frightened sound escaped you, your body trembling lightly.
His jaw clenched. It wasn’t one of your sweet or happy sounds, and it worked its way into his bones before he could stop it. He didn’t want you to be afraid of him. He couldn’t have you afraid of him. At the end of the day, he was a good guy.
You needed to trust him to take care of you.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I should’ve done it while you were still awake so I could explain.”
“E-Explain?” you repeated, your voice small.
You hadn’t screamed once since you woke up, so that had to be a good sign.
“I just needed to know you’d be here when I got back. That’s all. Needed to know you weren’t going to…” He trailed off and took a breath. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here. You’re here. That’s what matters, so you don’t need to be scared, okay? Not of me.”
You didn’t know about the cameras he set up, but he checked them throughout the night to make sure you were safe. Seeing you vulnerable, it was a reminder that he had to come home to you. And it was a reminder that you couldn’t leave.
Not that you would leave him. His North Star wouldn’t abandon him. Binding you was just an extra precaution.
Plus, you looked good bound to his bed.
He could even watch the footage of the two of you from earlier.
“I’m not-”
“Leaving,” he finished for you. “I know.”
You weren’t going to leave him.
“Think of this like a kink,” he said, a subtle smirk forming.
Kinks were normal.
This was normal.
“Your wrists don’t hurt, do they?” he asked, concern laced in his tone, moving a hand to take yours and lace your fingers together.
You shook your head slowly. Of course, they didn’t hurt. He was careful.
He took care of you.
“Good,” he said, his breath ghosting your lips. “Then I’ll keep you tied up just a little bit longer, okay?”
He swallowed down whatever you had to say when lips covered yours, his hand sliding to your neck and resting there while his tongue explored your mouth. You tasted so sweet. He wanted you. Wanted to be inside you.
His hips shifted against yours before he caught himself and broke the kiss. He pressed his forehead to yours and exhaled slowly, his grip loosening. You needed just a little more rest before he wore you out again.
“Shh. Go back to sleep,” he urged, smiling softly before he settled over you like a blanket, his lips caressing your skin. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and we can talk more about it.”
Your pulse still pounded under his touch and his own heartbeat picked up. But he kept his breathing steady, silently urging you to match his. He relaxed, too, like he was someone warm and comforting and not someone smothering you.
It took a minute, but your eyes shut. Maybe you thought it was a dream. He’d remind you that it was very real, and that he wasn’t going anywhere when you woke up again.
He would always be there.
Just like you would always be there.
Even if he had to tie you to his bed every single night to keep you.
Things could be worst, right? He's trying so hard to be normal. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
summary: you meet a silent man in the streets of bucharest, it becomes your personal mission to break through his shell
warnings: discussion of pstd
author's note: I have always wondered what happened between the post-tws cutscene and cacw, so this is an attempt at filling the gap. i may add more if people would like that. thanks for reading!
tws!bucky who has just moved from the US to Romania, and struggles to speak his name, as if it were not his own, when you introduce yourself
tws!bucky who is constantly on edge, eyes flitting around, body tense yet his face betrays no emotion
tws!bucky who takes weeks for you to get more than a single word out of, and even then he speaks little of himself. he just listens, drinking every word
tws!bucky who slowly pieces himself back together, recognising one of his favourite foods when you shyly offer him baked goods you made him. hearing a song that makes him tap his leg, seeing a seventy year old movie that he can quote line by line
tws!bucky who begins to write down every flash, every memory; you'd bring him books and newpapers to cut up and copy to piece himself back together
cacw!bucky who holds your hands tight during visions, each assasination attempt, each mission returning to him with his past
cacw!bucky who argues with you about whether to simply hand himself over, you convince him that being in a cell is no way to make amends - only by living can he come to gain forgiveness, including from himself
cacw!bucky who undertakes strength training, as it is the only thing he can control about his body, the only way he can see to protect himself - to protect you, when they do finally come for him
cacw!bucky who never gets to say goodbye, one day he is there and the next you stand watching TV silently, tears streaming, as you see him confined in Berlin
All my stories are R18. I write smut, and I may touch sensitive topics or topics that are not intended to be read by minors.
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN CONTENT CONSUMPTIONS.
Masterlist | DMDR Event Masterlist
Prompt: "Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?!"
Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!F!Reader
Warning/Tags: Misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader and bucky are just silly and dumb, fluff and just a tiny tiny bit of angst.
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: From the first time Bucky sees you he realize you're something different, but maybe eavesdropping is not his best ally at the moment. Now he has to remind himself not everyone is an enemy.
Author's Note: This is my fic on the event "Dear My Darling Reader" which was hosted by @salty-tang. A beautiful experience and a really beautiful way to meet new people!
If this is the first time you've read me, I'd love for you to read this post.
Another Fic For Ellie!
Working in The Stark Tower was something exciting, to say the least. One day you would see Captain America walking around, and the very next minute you could see a S.H.I.E.L.D team walking with something as dangerous as The Tesseract—so you were used to not having a normal day.
Nonetheless, Bucky Barnes, HYDRA’s former assassin appearing on the compound was something new—something unexpected. You knew the stories behind him and Howard’s death, you knew from firsthand how that had ended, and how much Tony struggled to trust people after going through the whole ordeal.
“How did that happen?” You asked Hill, who was walking with a tablet in her hand.
“Well—at the end Tony understood none of that was Barnes’ decision.”
“Is he going to live here?”
“I think Tony wants to have an eye on him—It’s better for everyone.”
Seeing him there felt different. A kind of redemption for him, something you never thought of seeing with your own eyes.
Weeks passed and you started to see how he interacted with his surroundings—he was careful, trying to not attract attention to himself, always alone in the kitchen, training at late hours, walking around when he thought no one was watching over him.
However, you were paying attention. You were always looking in his direction—not in a predatory way, but curiosity got hold of you.
And finally, you got the courage enough to sit in front of him, you didn’t make a fuss out of it, he was in the kitchen bar eating cereal very early in the morning—Tony was not in town so you had plenty of free time ‘till he got back.
Bucky sat still for a second, he wanted to leave, except with all the activities the doctor had been putting him through this was the only free time he had for himself. He sighed and didn’t even look up at you.
He really expected this was a one–time situation. He was not used to sharing his time, nor his space with anyone else—maybe Steve, sometimes Sam or Nat, and that was it. He didn’t want more people involved in whatever was going on with him.
But by the third time you sat in front of him, he decided he would have to deal with it, he just accepted your presence there, and you didn’t push further. You just sat there, ate, waited if you finished before him, and then left when he stood up. Not more, not less. You knew he was dealing with a lot of things, and you didn’t want to make him feel pressured.
Until one day, you arrived earlier than him, but you had a very busy day waiting for you, so you just went and left a chocolate bar you had bought earlier for him. You left it on his usual spot with a note. ‘Bucky Barnes.’
He was not expecting to not see you there, something inside of him felt half relieved, half confused—and he felt even more confused when he saw a chocolate bar with his name on it. He stared at it as if it were a puzzle.
He left it on his side while he ate, he didn’t circle around it too much, maybe you were being nice because you were asked to do it. Maybe you were a kind of handler or guard Tony had set for him. Not his worst idea, to be fair.
While he was eating, Steve arrived and sat in front of him. At first he didn’t notice the chocolate sitting there—but when he saw it an eyebrow raised.
“Didn’t know you ate chocolate.” Bucky sighed, “Oh! It was Tony’s assistant?”
“How—how do you know about her?”
“Buck, the whole Tower has seen how you two eat breakfast together daily.”
“I don’t eat breakfast with her, she sits here and I’m here too.”
“Fine, but you could have a nice gesture back and give her something.”
“I’m not doing that.”
You continued your routine with him—or by his side. You never said anything at the beginning, but with the weeks you started to give him a casual ‘Good Morning’, and you would even start to say goodbye when you both were heading out.
The first time you greeted him he just mumbled something through his teeth, you accepted it as a greeting back. And the following days his mumbling became a murmur, to a low “morning”.
You weren’t even expecting more than that—you were accepting what was given.
But, one morning, he was not there. You could see his bowl cleaned and drying on the sink. You didn’t want to admit it fully, but his company made your mornings somehow better. When you sat on the stool, a chocolate bar sat in front of you. Your name written on a sticky note.
You smiled wide, as wide as your cheeks let you do it.
He didn’t even realize when he did it. He was on the corner bodega when he bought a family pack chocolate bag, he saw you eating one of those just a day or two earlier. And then, he asked one of the doctors for a bunch of sticky notes and a pen.
And as if the planets had aligned to act on it, the very next day Steve called him on a mission, something fast, nothing that would last more than a day, but something that would make him not have breakfast with you.
After eating breakfast, and when Steve was not in the kitchen, he left the chocolate with the sticky note on the table. He felt like a child—like a teenager. God’s sake. He was a hundred year old man leaving chocolates to a woman he hadn’t even spoken more than fifty words to.
By that moment, that became a routine, something yours, every time one of you wasn’t able to be at breakfast, you would leave a chocolate bar, sometimes with your names written on there, sometimes just the bar, but even with that interaction, words were not spoken—he didn’t dare to say anything, and you were too afraid to ruin the moment.
One late night you were working with Hill with a protocol, nothing scandalous. She was yapping about a date she was having next week.
“So, you don’t have anything going on?” You shook your head, your eyes still focused on the tablet in front of you.
“I’m pretty busy with this shit here.” You mumbled while pointing to the artefact.
“Oh, c’mon!”
“What? It’s a pretty tough thing—I have to spend all my morning sat there working with it, I need all my focus on it…”
For your misfortune—Bucky was just about to come into the lab when he heard you saying that. He really thought you were talking about him. And deep down he knew. You couldn’t be such a nice person to him just because—you were just an assigned handler.
He stepped back and went directly to the compound’s gym. Steve was there training. Buckys’ chest heaved with anger, he could not believe he really thought you could just be nice to him.
“Did you know?” He asked stumping inside.
“‘Bout what?” Steve stopped the punching bag.
“You know about what! She’s not only Tony’s assistant, right? She’s my fucking handler!”
Steve’s eyes were wide open, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of the water.
“Look—Tony did try to set a guard for you, but I stopped him, and you can bet a tiny small girl is not your handler! What are you on?”
“So, why is she saying she has to deal with a tough task all morning?” Bucky chuckled almost in a cynical way.
“Well—because she’s a genius, she’s working with a protocol for S.H.I.E.L.D.” Steve sighed, “I know you have trust issues, and I know it is a long road, but can you accept she’s just being nice to you?”
“Fuck off.” Bucky said, leaving the gym, Steve’s brows furrowed.
He was really trying to help his friends, but he also understood how deep the cut was and how difficult it was going to be to make him trust again.
After that day he became colder—he never again answered your greetings, even when you tried harder, something felt as if you had done something wrong, even when you left chocolates there if you weren’t going to eat—the chocolate remained untouched by evening.
“I know we are not exactly even acquaintances, but—did I do something wrong?” You finally asked one day.
He didn’t even look at your way. You sighed and stood up, even you knew better than to push someone who clearly didn’t want you there. Since that stunt, you stopped eating with him, you just went, took anything you needed from the kitchen and walked away. Every time Bucky just saw you from behind his bowl and said nothing.
Right there, he realized how full of shit he was. He felt guilty, for the first time someone who owed him nothing was kind to him, and he decided to push her away for no reason.
But it was late, and it was better that way, he had nothing to offer her.
One late evening, Bucky and Steve were walking into the tower, you were walking in their direction, really trying to not make eye contact with Bucky.
“Evening,” you said, smiling at Steve.
“Ma’am.” He smiled back and you walked away, he looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised, “why did she not acknowledge you?”
Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“Bucky…”
The blonde stopped his tracks, Bucky sighed knowing he had no other choice but to say the truth.
“I might have ignored her after that stunt at the gym, and she got fed up and stopped talking to me.”
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose exasperated.
“You can’t be this idiot.” He mumbled.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“You have to make up for it, you know it, right?”
“I… How am I supposed to do that?”
“Figure it out.” Steve said before walking away. Bucky palmed his face.
So, there he was—in front of a shelf with a ton of things, cups, little drawings on small canvas, stuffed bears. Nothing seemed like something Bucky would carry around.
Steve had convinced him to buy you something for Valentine’s Day. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had celebrated it—let alone bought something like that in this century.
He slid his fingers through his long hair—the green jacket hugged his biceps, at that moment he felt it was even tighter. He roamed through the whole store ‘till a teen girl approached him.
“Mister, do you need some help?” He sighed, “Don’t worry! We are going to find something lovely for your wife.”
“She’s—not… She’s a coworker.” The teenager knitted her eyebrows.
“Well, we don’t judge here. What does she like?”
And he remembered, he saw you wearing a necklace with a heart more than once in the middle—one day you stopped using it. You had the habit of playing with it and you seemed to miss it from time to time when your hand slid to your chest and didn't find it.
The girl who seemed to have a life mission helped Bucky find the perfect necklace—her words. She put it on a velvety bag and gave it to him.
He spent the days dwelling on the idea of giving you the necklace—you hadn’t even talked to each other in a week or so, he couldn’t do the same as you did with the chocolate bar, he didn’t feel confident enough to do it. What was he going to do? Were you going to see it as what it was? Just a gift or something else? Every question made him backtrack.
He just left it on his nightstand, he was not even sure if you were going to be there on St. Valentine’s. You probably had a whole date—or you were probably spending your night with someone. Now he felt like an idiot, he didn’t even know if you were taken, and he was not a man to take something that was not his. Not that he wanted to try something with you, but he was sure you were someone that was worth keeping close.
You were nice without expecting anything, you felt warm in every room you were in, everyone in the compound had only good things to say about you. And he was the only idiot who didn’t have a good relationship with you, just because he couldn’t accept that you were just a good person just because. And he saw it, he could see how you treated everyone with kindness and respect, but every time your paths crossed—he could see it, he saw how you restrained yourself from saying something, to even look at his way, and he hated himself for that.
How did he manage to make such sunshine angry at him?
February arrived, and with it, Bucky’s guts to start making amends with you. It started slowly. First, he started to acknowledge you were in the kitchen, looking your way, not talking—he knew you deserved time. Now he was the one making the moves, slowly, at your pace, respecting how much you wanted to do or to approach him.
Fucking deep blue eyes. They pierced you enough to try to look at him. But you were hurt, you were nothing but nice to him and suddenly he gives you the cold shoulder? Not something you were going to let it slide.
But you caved in, and by Valentine’s week you were on speaking terms again—you both sat together to have breakfast. Not much talk, just keeping each other’s company. Something he started to be fond of.
Valentine’s Day arrived, and in the morning, he didn’t see you there—but for the first time, a chocolate bar waited for him. No sticky notes, no name. Just a bar.
He thought it was weird to not have your characteristic sticky notes there, but he was thankful you started your old routine together.
He didn’t see you the rest of the day. Not in the hallways, not in the labs, not eating with Hill as you usually did. And there, his suspicions grew bigger. You may be on a romantic daytrip with a man—-a normal man. Not a bionic centenarian with the worst PTSD seen by man.
Now the necklace on his pocket weighed more, he felt idiotic thinking he could have something normal.
At nine he walked to the kitchen, the hallways were silent, he could hear his footsteps echoing through them, but a dim light on the lab caught his attention. He peeped through the door, and you were there. Sitting in front of a tablet and thousands of papers.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. What were you doing there? He cleared his throat before speaking.
“Hi, there.” He said almost in a whisper.
You jumped on your spot with the sudden voice. “Oh god. Don’t ever do that again!” You chuckled.
“Sorry, thought you heard me.”
“No, I was too focused on this.” You raised the tablet in your hand, “I need to finish it before the end of February.”
He raised an eyebrow, “I get that—but what are you doing here? I thought you were going to be on a date or something.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, “why would I—be on a date?”
“St. Valentine’s Day?” Your mouth fell open.
"Wait, it's Valentine's Day today?! Oh! That’s why Hill told me to get a date. Such an idiot.” You palmed your face, “I’ve been here all day without taking even a break.”
“Did you forget it was Valentine’s Day?”
“Yeah. Not my year—or life… romantically speaking.”
“The prize of being Tony’s assistant?”
“More like the prize of not being attractive?” His jaw clenched. How could you think that way?
“It’s fine, I’m used to not having dates on Valentine’s, Bucky. That’s why I forgot about it.
He wanted to tell you a lot of things, how precious you were, how kind and warm you were— but he just nodded and stepped back, disappearing from your sight. He walked directly to Steve’s room.
“Everything’s fine?” He asked when he saw the distraught look Bucky had.
“She didn’t even know today was Valentine’s…”
Steve chuckled. If there was something of the old Bucky remaining on this new man standing in front of him, this was a hint. Bucky was ever a gentleman back in time, and something was showing up right now in the anger his eyes reflected.
Next morning you arrived and no sight of Bucky—nor a chocolate bar in the kitchen.
Maybe the self–deprecating joke was too soon?
You couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid you must’ve sounded. You really felt second–hand embarrassment. All day was the same, if you weren’t thinking about Bucky, you were thinking about how pathetic you sounded.
When the dark of night covered the sky, you decided to leave to your room—something inside you wanted to make you dig a hole below your bed and never leave.
When you were walking to your room, you saw how Bucky was standing up in the middle of the living room—a white buttoned shirt hugging his god–given body. He seemed nervous, something strange to see on him.
“Uh—I…Can…”
Was he stuttering? He? The Winter Soldier?
“Can you come with me?” He finally had the guts to finish the sentence, you tilted your head to the side but nodded.
You both went up in the elevator in silence, and something felt heavier in the air. When the door opened on the roof, there was a table decorated with a white tablecloth and a couple of red roses in the middle.
“You—are attractive. And if any man has told you otherwise in the past—they are imbeciles and blind.”
A tear started to well up on your eye. No one had ever done something like this for you, and a man who was this haunted did it just because of a self–deprecating joke you made? You were speechless, but he walked with you to the table, he helped you take a seat and in front of you there was a chocolate bar with a velvety bag.
“I bought it for you—hope it’s enough to say sorry for the way I treated you. Not—not that I want to buy your forgiveness, but—God’s sake, can you just open it?”
You chuckled, seeing him this flustered was—glorious. When you opened the bag, a necklace with a heart in the middle was there. You couldn’t believe he noticed everything.
Your favorite chocolates, your lost necklace. He was really paying attention to you.
“I don’t know what to say, Bucky—I don’t have anything for you.”
“I didn’t ask for anything—you’ve been so kind to me. You are the first person outside of the people who knew me through Steve, who didn’t think the worst of me. You have shown me that I can be kind, and that I should trust maybe a bit more.”
You chuckled.
“So then why did you treat me that way?”
He sighed, “I thought you were sent by Tony, that you were a kind of guard or handler.”
Your eyes were open in surprise.
“Bucky—have you seen me? There’s no way I could handle anything,” he chuckled, “and beside, Tony? Tony has been bullying me since the first day I sat with you.”
“I know, I’m an idiot.”
“I forgive you—I forgave you. That’s what people do.”
The word ‘people’ came out of your lips as if it wanted to be something different.
He looked at you, and for the first time he was sure he could have something beautiful on his arm, something strong enough to not be broken but soft enough to make him feel different.
The night was beautiful. With Nat’s help he cooked a lasagna and Tony gave him an expensive whine.
The conversation between you flowed as if you hadn’t been in dead silence for the past months, and it felt well, like the whole thing you had was supposed to be like that. Like you both didn’t need many words before.
“And where did your last necklace go?” He asked, as he saw how from time to time you caressed where the old necklace hung before.
“It got lost—I don’t even know where. I was so sad, it was a cheap thing, but I bought it years ago and it was always with me.”
“Well, you don’t have to wear the one I bought you just because I did it. I just thought…”
“Are you crazy? I’m not going to stop wearing it like ever.”
Mornings were easier now, he now prepared two bowls of whatever he did, one for you and one for him. Late nights in the lab? He was there waiting for you, he even started to walk you to your car every time you left the compound. If you had to stay there, you both spent most of the night in the gardens just talking.
You learned a lot about him, and he always left the graphic details; not because he didn’t trust you at this point—but because he didn’t want you to pity him.
Even when you never did, it didn't matter what he told you, or what he slipped. You never pitied him. Every time he told you a censored story of his past, you just nodded, let him finish, and made a remark—sometimes something about him being amazing at story telling, sometimes about a specific part of the story.
But never about him. Somehow, you knew he didn’t want nor needed that, and you always paid attention to it.
It was not like you were dancing around him, or walking on eggshells, more like—you wanted him to feel comfortable with you, even if it took time.
One night, you were sitting in the garden, he was sitting on his butt looking at the sky, while you were crossing your legs next to him. Nights like that became a part of your routine, talking nonsense, walking around the place, silence that helped you both to decompress.
“Why were you so nice to me?” He finally asked, you look at him, almost weirded out.
“Well, why wouldn’t I? You did nothing wrong—not to me, like ever.”
“So, you’re just nice around everyone?”
“Is that not like we are supposed to be?”
Bucky shrugged.
“You know you’re too good for your own sake?”
“I’ve been told before.”
There was a pause before you looked back at him.
“Bucky, I like you…”
He swallowed.
“This is not a proposal at all. I just want to be honest—I think someone like you appreciates honesty.”
“I do. I appreciate it.” He looked at you, he moved his body to be just slightly closer to you, “And I like you too, but…”
Bucky paused before finishing the sentence.
“I’m not sure I can start something healthy.”
“I’m not asking for anything—if you want to take the things slowly, we can take them like that.”
“And if it takes a lot?”
“Then a lot will be.” You answered, he sighed, “Bucky, can you stop over thinking this? Just… let yourself feel.”
“And what if I hurt you?”
“You wouldn’t be the first nor the last.”
Your smile made him weak, and the way you were handing your heart to him made him realize he liked you more than what he thought. He sat on his knees, facing you, his hand cupping your cheek slowly, chest heaving.
“Tell me if you are not comfortable.” You shook your head.
“Don’t stop, please.”
Your hands found their way to his neck, pulling him just inches closer before your lips touched.
“And it just took three months after Valentine’s.” Tony chuckled, walking in your direction.
“Tony…” You said before trying to stand up.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just taking a walk, but it’s nice to see two lovebirds enjoying their night.”
Bucky sighed.
“C’mon, Barnes. You can take her to real dates now.”
Tony joked before leaving the garden.
“I’m sorry.” Bucky looked at you.
“I know Tony, that’s fine.”
“No… I mean, yes. But, he’s right—I should have asked you on a proper date sooner.”
“Slow pace, Bucky. Slow pace.”
You took his hand and tangled your fingers with his, before you could do anything, he leaned on you and kissed you.
It was slow, but fiercely, something that hadn’t been said was confessed there, and everything felt complete at that moment.
AN: roughly written & not beta’d. Also for @storiesofsvu bingo with the line: “C’mere, let me hold you.”
AN2: updated 7/22/26 removing use of Y/N.
Summary: You & Bucky spend the day at Coney Island. Super fluff + spice.
Coney Island had undergone many iterations since it started in 1829. It was still just as much a weekend escape for the working class now as it was back in the day. Three subway lines converged at the ocean, and you were on one of them, accompanied by a man who knew of Coney Island long before you did.
That’s what happened when your boyfriend was a centenarian.
The train roared and squealed as it made its way towards the south of Brooklyn. It was packed, with the majority excitedly heading to the beach, as it was the first day open to swimmers. You leaned your head on Bucky’s shoulder, and he wrapped his vibranium arm around you. No one batted an eye at the metal arm. Androids, aliens and wizards - the big three - were widely accepted so long as the universe didn’t implode.
The subway screeched to a stop, the conductor making a very muffled announcement of its arrival at Coney Island. The throngs of people made their way out and you and Bucky waited until the majorly had cleared before departing yourselves. You were two steps ahead of Bucky, making way towards the stairs when you realized he wasn’t behind you. You turned and watched as Bucky took a deep inhalation of the air, thick with the smell of sugary sweet, fried confections mixed with saltwater.
Bucky opened his eyes and met yours. “Just thinking about the last time I was here,” he shouted over the roar of an incoming train.
“Come on,” you shouted as you walked back and reached for him. “We’re going to have a great time,” you continued as you playfully pulled him forward.
Your day date with Bucky also became a history lesson as he pointed out dramatic changes over the years from fires, rebuilds, and new parks that opened and closed over the years.
The day flew by as the two of you played various arcade games (no surprise Bucky won you the biggest teddy bear there was), ate obscene amounts of funnel cake and cotton candy, and rode the Cyclone too many times to count. You doubled over in laughter as Bucky recounted how Steve puked after riding the Cyclone.
“He still never lets me forget it,” Bucky chuckled.
After, it was time to hit the beach. Coney Island offered three miles of sand, sun, and rolling waves.
You slipped off your shorts first, revealing your suit bottoms. Bucky’s mouth actually dropped ever so slightly as you pulled your t-shirt over your head. You wore a red checked halter one piece that made you look as if you strutted out of the 1940s itself and not the 21st century.
“Do you like it?” you asked, almost shyly, giving him a small twirl.
Bucky nodded, rubbing his bearded jaw. “You look phenomenal.”
You lean up and forward, kissing him, your nose bumping against his slightly. Bucky holds you close with his non-vibranium arm. His lips are plush and soft against yours. He kisses you back, sliding his tongue into your mouth.
The sound of a sharp whistle interrupts the kiss and you duck your head into Bucky’s neck, feeling your cheeks heat assuming you both caught the attention of some onlookers. Bucky whipped his head towards the sound - it was a lifeguard telling some swimmers to come in.
Eventually the sun began to settle into the horizon, making way for a cooler evening. Still, the atmosphere was lively and just as crowded as it was earlier.
The final ride was the Wonder Wheel, a behemoth of a Ferris wheel. Bucky’s hand landed on your thigh and he traced small concentric circles on your bare skin. The action caused you to shiver, a jolt of heat shooting to your core. The ride jolted slightly and Bucky explained how it was just the ride pausing to let others on. The wind blew slightly and you shivered.
“C’mere, let me hold you,”Bucky replied.
You snuggled close up to Bucky, taking the expansive view of the entire park and ocean.
The park eventually closed for the night and the last of the visitors left. You and Bucky were such a pair and you held his hand as you both made your way out.
“Thanks for the best day,” you remarked. You turned back towards the park, an almost wistful look on your face. Bucky turned to face you and he captured your lips in a small kiss.
“You know, it doesn’t need to end.”
You looked at Bucky curiously. “What do you mean?”
Bucky jutted his head towards the direction of the beach. “Want to go on a late night stroll?”
You squint at him. “What are you up to?”
Bucky glances down at you. “Can't I just wanna spend some time with my favorite girl before the night is over?”
"Usually you have ulterior motives, James."
Bucky glowered at you before signing in defeat. "I - Fair."
**
The moon was bright in the night sky and the waves crashed along the shore. Bucky made a mad dash to the water, the sand squishing beneath his feet. He ran in until he was waist deep.
“Get in, the water is amazing!”
“I’m not getting in!” you called out in return.
Approaching you, Bucky grabbed you and spun you into the water, which resulted in you letting out a shriek. He let out a laugh before he set you down. You playfully shoved him away. You then jumped into his arms, him grabbing and holding you by your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.
Eventually you both made it back to the sand. You sat in between Bucky’s legs, your back to his chest.
“This is nice,” you murmur. When you move your head to glance back at him, Bucky adjusted your position so that you were on his lap.
Bucky’s gaze fell to your lips and within a second his lips were pressed against yours. His fingers curled around your waist, the tips of his fingers rubbing tiny concentric circles against your skin as he pulled you closer.
Your fingers gripped a fistful of his dark, wet, hair – tugging sharply on it as you kissed him back. Bucky kissed you hard enough to leave your lips bruised tomorrow. As he licked hotly into your mouth, you tasted the salt from the ocean water.
Bucky gently pushed you downwards so you were laying down on the sand. He used his knee to nudge your legs apart as he covered your body with his.
He got his shirt off first, followed by your top off. You grasped his head between your hands, steered his mouth towards your tits. He latched his mouth on your nipple, already hard from the wet swimsuit. Bucky grazed his teeth along your sensitive buds before laving them with his tongue.
You clung to Bucky, desperate. He noted how your legs wrapped around his hips, how your hands felt on him, running over his shoulders and back.
Bucky kissed down between your breasts and down the length of your body. You spread your legs a bit when he got to the apex of your thighs. Your skin was cool and clammy under the ocean breeze. But it wasn’t that at all that was causing you to tremble.
He pulled your bottoms off, sodden with salt water. His hand found your pussy and he cupped it, feeling the heat and slickness of your desire. His cock was achingly hard, pressed against the damp material of his swim trunks. He spread your legs apart and settled between.
Bucky’s breath was hot on your pussy and he inhaled your sweet, musky scent before diving into your folds. His tongue was warm and wet; you threw your head back as he licked a broad stripe along your folds from top to bottom before returning to settle on your clit. His tongue was firm, using the tip to flick against it. The roar of the ocean drowned out the sounds of your gasps and moans. The coarse sand on your ass was irritating to your skin but you paid no mind to it as pleasure coursed your body.
Bucky took to task on your pussy, working you with a combination of his fingers and tongue. He pushed the warm, wet muscle inside and you arched your back in response.
“Someone is going to catch us,” you choked out, feeling your orgasm begin to crest.
“No one is going to sweetheart. It’s dark and we’re under the pier,” Bucky murmured before delving back to your pussy. The feel of his beard on your sensitive skin only ramped up the pleasure you were feeling. Your hand found its way to the top of his head and you gripped his hair tightly. “Just like that - oh fuck, yes Buck, just like that!”
And then you’re coming - white hot and electric, your body tightening and then snapping in release. Sound went fuzzy and you squeezed your eyes tightly. Bucky continued to languidly eat you out as your orgasm rode out.
You watched with half lidded eyes as Bucky stood above you, pushing down his own swim trunks, revealing his aching, weeping cock. You bit your lip and beckoned him with a crook of your finger.
Bucky dropped to his knees and gave his cock a pump before covering your body. You felt his cock at your entrance, the fat blunt head ready. He rubbed his cock along your slit, gathering your wetness. You were hot, wet, and ready.
“Bucky, please.”
Bucky smirked and then acquiesced to your request.
Bucky pushed the head of his cock inside you and then pushed into you agonizingly slowly. You whimpered as he finally sank his length into you, bottoming out. Your eyes fluttered close as you adjusted to his size, a mix of pleasure and slight burn as he stretched you. You grasped at his back, your nails pressing half-moon marks into his skin. Bucky pulled out again and then thrust back in, harder than before. You let out an obscene moan in response.
Bucky picked up the pace, pushing into you over and over. He hooked your leg and pushed it up to your chest, changing the angle as his cock stroked your walls. “You feel so tight around my cock, sweetheart.” He grunted.
“Give it to me, give it to me, I need it.” You whined. Bucky reached for your arm with his vibranium one and pulled it over your head, gripping it tightly.
Bucky lowered his head down, pressing his forehead against yours. Your bodies are slick with sweat and beads of sweat roll off Bucky onto yours.
Bucky continued fucking you deeply, sliding into you over and over in deep, long strokes. As he felt his own release approach, Bucky moved his lips to your neck and sucked a mark onto your skin. You chant his name - his real name - over and over again, feeling your own orgasm approach. You snake your hand down and begin to rub your clit.
“I’m going to come, oh shit, oh shit, James!” You come completely undone, wailing his name.
“Come for me doll, fuck, ‘m gonna come too,” Bucky groaned. Feeling your walls flutter around his cock, seeing your wrecked face - it was all too much for Bucky and with a strangled cry of your name, he stiffened and painted your walls with his release.
The two of you come to a still, your breaths both uneven. Neither one of you spoke for a bit —the only sound was rough-breathing and the roars of the ocean crashing.
Water began to lap at you and Bucky and you both realized the tide was coming in. You both redress quickly and the walk back to the subway is punctuated with playful kisses and touches.
As the subway approached, you looked over at Bucky. “Couldn’t have been a better day.”
Bucky pulled you into his chest and hummed. “Anything for my girl.”
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You fell through time by accident — and now you're stuck in 1943, watching Bucky Barnes charm every woman in the room but you. So you start to wonder: did the man you left behind ever really want you, or just keep what was convenient? He's about to answer that. He just doesn't know it yet.
◌⃘ Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x nurse!Reader and present!Bucky Barnes x scientist!reader
◌⃘ Word count: 2.5K
◌⃘ Warnings: angst, because I don't feel well and this is how my brain works when I'm sick.
The small dance hall in Brooklyn smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, and you had been standing against the back wall for the better part of an hour, watching the man you loved fall in love with everyone but you.
Not that he knew you. That was the cruel logic of it all. To Sergeant James Barnes, you were nobody. Nothing but a nurse he'd been introduced to twice, and forgotten both times. A face in a crowd of pretty faces, but by no means the prettiest.
You had stopped being able to feel your own face somewhere around the third song, no longer pretending to smile.
"You gonna dance, or you gonna be a wallflower all night?"
You turned. One of the girls— Doris, or maybe it it was Lilian, you weren't paying attention— was smiling at you with the social grace that women in this time seemed to possess effortlessly. They belonged in a way you never would. You gave her something that was probably a smile.
"I'm alright watching."
"Watching him, you mean." She followed your gaze to where Bucky stood in his dress uniform, left arm braced against a pillar as he leaned down to murmur something into the ear of a redhead who laughed like he'd hung the moon. "Half the room's watching him. Don't feel bad, sweets. He's real generous with the old charm."
Generous! You laughed to yourself, that was certainly one word for it.
You'd been in 1943 for eleven days. Eleven days since the machine in your lab had done whatever it was that it did. There had been a surge of power, a blinding flash of light and the smell of ozone that still hadn't left your nostrils. You had woken up staring at a strange sky, in an alley between two buildings you didn't recognize.
Eleven days later, you had talked your way into a nursing post with the competence that only came with training from a program that wouldn't exist for another sixty years.
The first time you had seen him, you hadn't been able to move. You almost walked past without a backward glance. The thing that had gotten your attention wasn't how he looked, it was his voice. It hadn't changed. What had changed was how freely he laughed
It was all you could think of as you lay on a narrow rented bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking: He's here. He's alive and whole and here, and he has no idea who I am.
You'd thought seeing this version of him would be a comfort.
You'd been so stupid.
So there you were, contemplating your existence, a woman out of your own time. And you realized that the thing nobody told you about time travel was that it was mostly waiting.
You had managed to track down a physicist— a nervous, but brilliant scientist who was well ahead of his time and happened to work for Stark Industries and liked to carry out experiments in his basement.
When you'd described the machine, he had gone very pale and very quiet and then become very interested. He offered to help you. He thought it would take weeks. He speculated a great many things, and every one of them required you to stay close to the war effort, close to the base, close— by fate or by accident— to Bucky-freaking-Barnes.
You should have quit, but you needed the money and a place to stay. So you saw him. Constantly. At the mess, in the corridors, at these godforsaken dances the other nurses dragged you to. And every time, the same knife went in.
Because Bucky Barnes flirted with everyone.
You watched him do it like a case study you had a vested interest in. In a way, you did.
He flirted with Lilian and Doris and Elizabeth, with Marian and Margaret and even Sandy. He flirted with the girl who sold cigarettes and the middle-aged woman who ran your boarding house who flushed like a school girl every time he tipped his cap.
He flirted with the same energy that other men breathed— unconsciously, effortlessly and with enthusiasm. With the whole world except you.
With you he was polite. God, the politeness was utterly devastating. Every 'ma'am.' Every 'miss.' Every nod.
Once— and only once— he caught you looking at him for too long across the mess hall and you had noticed a flicker on his face. It wasn't interest, no you knew his expressions well enough, it was something closer to confusion. Almost as though he couldn't quite figure out why this particular nurse kept staring at him like she was drowning.
You'd looked away so fast you'd spilled your coffee.
So here's the thing you could quite wrap your head around. It was the splinter which kept digging it's way deeper. He was still Bucky. Before the fall. Before seventy years of ice and torture. Before his free will had been ripped away. It was still him. The same kind man you loved.
And this man had looked at you and felt nothing.
"You look like you're thinking too hard," Lillian said. "Never a good idea at a dance."
"Sorry." You forced a smile and made yourself relax. "Long shift," you lied with a shrug.
She patted your arm sympathetically and drifted off in the direction of a corporal who had been eyeing her from across the hall. And then you were alone. Again. Listening to Bucky laughing at something across the room, his eyes crinkled and nose scrunched. You had to close your eyes.
In the present, you told yourself, he loves you.
But did he?
This thought was the poison of the past, the reason the past eleven days had hollowed you out and given you reason to doubt. Because you'd met your Bucky broken. You'd met him after— after the Soldier, after the torture, after the long slow work he had done to put himself back together, with therapy and effort and the kind of hard-won stillness that made his rare smiles feel earned. Your Bucky was quiet. He was careful. He loved you the way a man loves the shore after a shipwreck— grateful, fierce, like something he'd been afraid to hope for.
When you thought back, this stillness had always felt like the depth in your relationship. That his quiet devotion was the shape of a man who had survived far too much to be careless with his heart. That when he reached for you in the dark, when he said your name with reverence, when he told you that he loved you, it was the truest thing in him.
Only now you'd seen the before.
Now you'd seen who he was when the world hadn't broken him yet.
And that man— that carefree, radiant, flirtatious man— he wouldn't have looked at you twice. That man had a type, and you were watching him charm her across the dance floor right now, and it most decidedly wasn't you. It was never you.
So what did that make what you had back home?
It was the ugly thought. The one that had been circling your brain in different iterations for the last eleven days.
He's with you because you were there.
Because you'd been kind to him at the worst point of his life.
Because you were willing, and steady, and you'd stayed when staying was hard.
Because a drowning man doesn't check whether the hand pulling him up is the one he'd have chosen.
He grabs what's offered.
You were what was offered. Convenient. Present. Undemanding.
Not chosen. Settled.
You believed it completely, while standing in that dance hall. It sank deep into your bones, like the weight of something you'd always half-known and finally let yourself see.
"You're that nurse."
You startled so badly at his voice that you knocked your purse off the table. Bucky was standing in front of you— right in front of you, close enough that you could smell the pomade and the wool of his uniform. And he was looking at you with that faint, puzzled crease between his brows. He bent down and retrieved your purse without a second thought.
"I— yeah. Sorry. Yes. I'm a nurse."
Brilliant. Very cool. Totally nailed that response. You mentally face palmed yourself.
"You keep looking at me." He said it plainly, without judgement. "All week. At the mess, and now here." He paused, studying your face. "Do I know you? From somewhere? I feel like I oughta, and it's drivin' me half crazy tryna figure it out."
You don't know me yet, was the thought didn't say. You won't know me for another eighty years.
"No," you managed in a flat tone. "You don't know me."
He studied you. And for one horrible, hopeful second you let yourself imagine that something would spark between you. That he would recognize something buried deep inside himself, the one who would one day become the man you loved. That he'd feel it, the way you felt it. The impossible gravity that existed between you.
He didn't. You watched him not feel it. He just gave you a small, courteous, sorry-can't-place-you smile and the last shred of hope shattered in it chest.
"Well," he said. "You alright? You look a little—" he gestured vaguely at all of you, "—pale. Rough night on the ward?"
You laughed dismally. "Something like that."
"You want some air? You look like you want some air."
And there it was. Not attraction. Kindness. The reflexive decency of a good man toward a woman who looked unwell. He'd have offered the same to Doris or Evelyn, to the redhead or the blonde, to anyone really. You knew it, and you took it anyway, because you were weak and you loved him and this was the closest he'd stood to you in eleven days.
Outside, the night was cold and wet and smelled of the harbor. Bucky lit a cigarette, offered you one, seemed unsurprised when you shook your head. For a while neither of you said anything.
"You got somebody?" he asked finally, and your heart lurched dangerously. "Back home, I mean. You got that look. Like half of you is somewhere else."
You laughed and it came out wrecked.
"Yeah," you said. "I've got somebody."
"He treat you right?"
He loves me like a man loves the thing that saved him, you thought. And I don't know anymore if that's the same as loving me for me.
"I don't know," you said honestly. "I used to think so. Now I'm not sure he'd have picked me. If things had been different. If he'd had… options. I think maybe I was just… the one who was there."
Bucky was quiet a moment. When you looked at him he was frowning— not the usual puzzled frown, it was something more thoughtful.
"That's a helluva thing to carry," he said. "You wanna know what I think?"
He looked at you, barely waiting for you to answer before he continued.
"I flirt with every dame in that room. You've seen me, don't pretend you haven't." He gave you a rueful half-smile. "It's easy. Don't cost me a thing. You smile, they smile, everybody has a nice night, nobody gets hurt. It's—" he searched for the right word, "—it's cheap. You understand? It's the cheapest thing I got."
You stared at him.
"You know what's not cheap?" he went on, looking out into the night. "The stuff that costs you something— and that's not the girl you charm across a dance hall. That's the one you'd still want around when there's nothing charming left in you. When you're scared, or sick, or done things you can't take back."
He exhaled smoke. "A fella who's had it easy, he'll flirt with anybody. Don't mean anything. But a fella who's been through the wringer, and he still reaches for one particular person—" he shrugged, "—seems to me that's the only kind that counts. The rest's just… noise."
You couldn't breathe.
He didn't know how deeply what he'd said had resonated with you. He couldn't have. He was just a kind man being kind to a sad woman outside a dance hall, offering the accidental wisdom of someone who'd one day live every word of it. But he'd reached across eighty years and removed the splinter from your heart.
A fella who's been through the wringer, and he still reaches for one particular person.
That was your Bucky. Not a drowning man grabbing for the nearest hand. A man who had been through the absolute worst the world could do. A man who had every reason to be closed and cold and careful with the little warmth he had left. And instead who spent it, deliberately, expensively, on you.
Not because you were convenient. Because when everything cheap had been burned out of him, you were what remained. You were the thing that counted.
The flirtation you'd been grieving wasn't the love you knew. It never had been. It was the noise. And your Bucky had gone silent with everyone else in the world and still turned, in the dark, toward you.
"Thank you," you whispered.
Bucky looked faintly bewildered. "For what? I didn't do anything."
"You'd be surprised," you said, tears slipping down your cheeks before laughing at the way he was hastily patting his pockets for a handkerchief with the flustered gallantry of a man way out of his depth
And for the first time in eleven days the ache in your chest had somewhere to go.
The scientist sent for you nine days later. You had pulled yourself away from the pub, one last glance at the Sergeant before you scurried away under the cover of darkness.
The machine hummed and the basement reeked of ozone. Suddenly your heart was pounding and you were looking back at the strange world you were leaving. At the war that hadn't broken him fully yet. At the still charming boy who would become, through unspeakable years, the quiet man who loved you.
I'm coming home baby, you told him, across the space-time continuum. I finally understand what I'm coming home to.
With that vow, you stepped into the light.
When you opened your eyes it was day and you were back in your lab, surrounded by your things and there— there was already someone crossing the room toward you at a dead run. Someone with a metal arm and a face raw with grief and terror that lasted twenty days. Someone who caught you and held you like the shore holds the shipwreck.
"You're back," Bucky said into your hair, over and over, wrecked and reaching only for you. "You're back, you're back, you're back."
"I'm back," you said. "I know exactly where I am."
Summary - Bucky has learned some fun facts about cats and decides to tell you at the most random times.
Warnings - None. Just pure fluff.
Word Count - 996
You can remember exactly when the info dumping began. You were sat on the couch enjoying your book when Bucky walked in from the kitchen and flopped down next to you.
"Did you know cats have 230 bones, while humans only have 206?" He said as he brushed his hand through his hair.
"Oh really." You asked, placing your book on your lap.
"Yeah, interesting huh?" Bucky smiled as he placed an arm around you and pressed a kiss to your head.
"Yeah pretty cool." You smiled back before settling against him.
And so it began. Bucky's random facts would be shared at every opportunity no matter how bizarre the situation.
You were in the shower, lathering shampoo into your scalp when you heard the bathroom door creak open and footsteps on the tiles.
"Hey babe?" Bucky called out to you.
"Yeah Buck?" You replied, pulling the shower curtain to the side so you could peer round to see what he wanted.
"Did you know cats have up to 100 different vocalizations but dogs only have 10." He smiled as he leant against the counter.
"Really buck I'm trying to shower." You laughed.
"Sorry baby I get excited." He said shyly, rubbing his palm across his stubbled chin.
"I know you do, you adorable man." You grinned at him before slipping back under the water.
You were laying in bed one night on your side. Bucky's body was snug behind you, his arm slung over your waist as he held you nuzzling his nose into you hair.
"Did you know cats find it threatening when you make direct eye contact with them?" He suddenly mumbled in a sleepy voice.
"Sounds like someone else I know." You teased.
"Hey." He grumbled against your skull.
"Am I lying?" You smiled.
"No but it's not the point." He grunted and tightened his arm around your stomach.
"Go to sleep Buck." You smiled before closing your eyes.
"Behind you." You grunted as you punched another assailant to the ground.
Bucky swung at the man in front of him before spinning and taking down the man behind him with ease.
"Fuck." You panted as you tried to catch your breath, bodies littering the ground around you both.
"Hey babe, did you know cats developed meowing exclusively to communicate with people?" Bucky smiled, as he wiped the blood from his knuckles with a cloth he'd pulled from his pocket.
"Not the time Buck." You laughed slapping his shoulder.
"Baby, there's always time." He grinned back.
You rolled your eyes and smiled widely before continuing the mission.
You were cooking dinner at the stove, wooden spoon in hand when Bucky walked in.
"Baby." Bucky spoke and you jumped in your spot.
"Jesus Buck. You scared me." You squeaked, placing a hand over your heart.
"Did you know cats have contributed to the extinction of 33 different species?" He said with an eyebrow raised as he sidled up next to you and placed a palm on your ass cheek.
"That's actually pretty terrifying." You panted as you returned to your cooking.
"It's incredible." Bucky scoffed, swatting your ass playfully.
"Incredible and terrifying." You argued, glaring at him over your shoulder.
"They could rule the world." He muttered placing his head on your shoulder.
"If only they had thumbs." You teased.
You were sat in a debrief meeting with the team, flicking a pen between your fingers and pressing your lips together as the boredom took over.
Bucky leant over to you from where he sat at your right, leveling his lips with your ear.
"Did you know cats can't climb down trees head first because of the shape of their claws? They have to go down backwards." He whispered.
You rose your eyebrow at him and stilled your fidgeting hands.
"Where are you storing all these?" You asked playfully, trying to keep your voice low.
"Right here baby." He smirked, tapping his finger against his forehead.
"Can you guys concentrate?" Steve suddenly scolded pulling your attention back to him.
"Sorry cap." You said sheepishly, sinking back into your seat.
"Sorry Steve." Bucky said with a small smile on his lips.
You were sitting on the sofa, gently stroking the little white fur ball in your lap when Bucky walked through the front door.
"Babe did you know..." He began before his eyes met the scene in front of him, widening as they did.
"What is that?" He asked in surprise, pointing at the sweet little baby in your lap.
"This little girl, is Alpine." You said with a smirk as Bucky began to slowly cross the space.
"Is she? Where did? Who's kitten is this?" He stuttered out.
"She's yours." You smiled.
"She's mine?" He breathed excitedly.
"Yeah baby." You grinned, patting the space next to you.
"You got me a cat." Bucky muttered in disbelief as he took his place next to you.
"I did." You smiled once more.
"Oh my god. She's so small." He coo'd as he watched her.
"Here." You said, gently cradling the kitten and passing her over to your hulk of a boyfriend.
He took her from you carefully, treating her gently like the precious little gem she was.
"Hey Alpine." He whispered as he cradled her against the top of his chest.
"Do you like her?" You sighed happily as you lent back to watch him.
"Baby I love her, I love you, thank you." He smiled widely.
Alpine stretched her little legs and placed a small white paw on Bucky's chin, making his eyes widen as he looked down at her in aww.
"Did you know," You said softly, "Cats show affection by putting their paw on your face. That means she likes you."
"Really?" Bucky asked, glancing at you with a twinkle in his eye.
"Yeah she knows who her daddy is." You smiled.
"You hear that Alpine." Bucky whispered with a soft affection, "I'm your daddy. I'm gonna take such good care of you."
