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#Better!Bucky
romaencepardner · 14 days
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Saint Applebees, champion of Cassandra, and Sir Applebees, Knight of Cassandra.
(please pick this future Bucky, it's the one with better friends and a sick mullet)
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5ummit · 5 months
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The Winter Soldier in What If...? Season 2
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buckymorelikefuckme · 11 days
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FD,AU
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 594
warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, explicit content, answering the phone while having sex, mild spanking. let me know if i missed anything.
a/n: listen, i'm trying to come up with new stuff but it's really hard for me rn, so pls enjoy this other orphaned work from ao3 that i'm bringing back here bc i'm an idiot. k thenks ilysm. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged and appreciated ♡
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Bucky has you face down, ass up, fucking into you roughly. He’s dragging moans and whimpers from deep within you, hitting all the right places. He brings his hand down to smack your ass. 
“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching around his cock.
You hear him chuckle behind you. He does it again, and again, sending your pleasure soaring higher and higher. You’re sure your orgasm is just on the cusp… when his phone rings. Obviously, you expect him to ignore it. You don’t expect him to slam into you, and then pause suddenly.
“No, no,” you whine, trying to wriggle your hips to get him moving again as your pleasure winds down to a low hum.
He shushes you, squeezing your hip. You see his arm reach to the side where his phone rests on the sheets. You watch, bewildered, as he presses a button and lifts it to his ear.
“This is James,” he says as he answers.
You throw a wild look his way, silently asking him what the fuck he’s doing. His lips tilt up in a half grin. 
“Oh, Mr. Hudson, so nice to hear from you,” he greets pleasantly, at the same time he drags his cock out slowly. He thrusts back in and continues. “I hadn’t expected a call until tomorrow.” A pause. “No, I’m not busy. What do you need?”
He lazily fucks you as he holds a conversation with the supposed Mr. Hudson, and all you’re able to do is lie there and take it. You do your best to be quiet, lest the man on the other end of the phone hear you and therefore what James is doing to you, but Bucky gives you a rough thrust, his cock hitting a spot that makes you cry out. He quickly bends, wrapping his hand around your mouth, but still never stopping his thrusting. 
Your breathing turns harsh, little moans coming out muffled against his hand. He shoves his phone between his cheek and shoulder, using his now free hand to pull you up until your back is pressed against his chest.
“Sure, we can set up a meeting. When is best for you?”
With one hand still covering your mouth, his other slides down your torso until it slips between your legs, his fingers setting a quick rhythm on your clit. You whimper as you throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder. 
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then, sir.”
He’s barely hung up the phone when he tosses it on the mattress. He fucks you hard and fast, pinching at your nipples and biting marks into your neck and shoulder. You’re a mess; noises being wrenched from you, sweat dripping down your back. Bucky’s panting against your skin as he gets closer and closer to climax. 
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says breathlessly. 
A few more thrusts and you gasp, back arching, mouth hanging open in a silent scream, and then your body shudders, thighs shaking and trying to close around his hand. He groans as you clench around him, his rhythm faltering before he, too, stills. His hands surely leave bruises where they’re gripping you, but you’ll wear them with pride. 
You both catch your breath for a moment, but then you reach behind you and pinch his thigh. 
“Ow! What was that for?” he asks, rubbing at the sore spot.
“If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll punch you in the dick,” you threaten halfheartedly.
He laughs and kisses you on the cheek, winking when you glare at him over your shoulder.
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bubbarnes · 9 months
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“󠀢... well, i know a crazy when i see one. because i am crazy”.
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Happy 10 years I guess
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ace-bucket · 1 month
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CATWS Anniversary Day 10 - Devotion
@catws-anniversary
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feelingtheaster99 · 3 months
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Heartbreaking to see Kristen witness her younger brother being bullied by their parents and just having to acknowledge that she was her brothers’ shield and and she LEFT them
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lungthief · 7 months
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hey is this thing on…i heard we’re stuckyposting again
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purfectstormzz · 7 months
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Think I need someone older | Sebastian Stan x reader (social media au)
Summary: in which guys her age don’t know how to treat her right but a certain Romanian actor knows exactly how to treat her.
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x fem!reader
Warnings: Age gap (reader is 25, Sebastian is 41). Mean comments about reader.
A/n: The photos are all photos that I found on Pinterest so credits to whoever took those photos :). The dates under the post are random dates that I chose😊
Masterlist
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Instagram.com
Yourusername
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Liked by TomHolland, CharlesLeclerc and 567000 others
Yourusername: Young, wild & free!
21 October 2021
Comments:
FlorencePugh: You dropped this m’lady 👑
Zendaya: Mother!
Username23: When is she going to finally find someone to be with. She’s 23 it’s about time.
> Y/nswife: Let her live her life, she’s happy without someone!
> Y/nsfan: Exactly and every guy she has dated treated her like shit so let her be happy dude!
TimotheeChalamet: Check your dm’s😚
> Y/nswife: Not this guy making his move🫡
Yourusername
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Liked by TimotheeChalamet, Bobbyskeetz and 657000 others
Yourusername: Last weekend with the friends✨
4 March 2022
Comments:
Y/nswife: Is that who I think it is???
> y/nsfan: What in the soft launch is this😮
FlorencePugh: Best weekend ever😙
TimotheeChalamet: We should do this again!!
> y/nswife: y’all I think we lost her
> username224: it is about time, at her age most people are already married.
> y/nswife: Respectfully, shut the f*ck up 😊
Menshealth
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Liked by Yourusername, SebastianStan and 547000 others
Menshealth: Sebastian Stan in our latest photoshoot.
6 June 2022
Comments:
Yourusername: Respectfully Smash🫣
*comment liked by @Sebastianstan
> y/nswife: Girl😳
>Sebastianstanswife: She’s so real for that🤭
Yourusername
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Liked by TimotheeChalamet, Zendaya and 736000 others
Yourusername: Prada 2023🖤
27 June 2023
Comments:
Zendaya: Prettiest girl ever🥰
>yourusername: Stop it, you’re making me blush☺️
Y/nswife: Mother fr
TimotheeChalamet: I’m so lucky to have such a pretty best friend🫶🏼
> y/nfan2: Best friend is code for girlfriend🤭
SebastianStan
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Liked by Yourusername, ChrisEvans and 647000 others
SebastianStan: Prada ‘23
23 June 2023
Comments:
SebastianStanswife: I have something inappropriate to say🥵
> Yourusername: Same tbh😫
> SebastianStanswife: you’re so real for this girly🤭
Y/nswife: Ngl I kinda ship y/n and Sebastian😨
> username23: He’s literally 17 years older then her.
Yourusername added to their story
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25 July 2023
Celebritynews
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Liked by Y/nswife, SebastianStanswife and 6570000 others
Celebritynews: Actor Sebastian Stan (41) and actress Y/n Y/l/n (25) seen together in New York last night. Is there a new couple?
2 September 2023
Comments:
Y/nswife: Mother and father!!
SebastianStanswife: I’m not even mad, they look so good together.
Username23: The age gap is a bit weird🤔
> username234: exactly, he could be her dad!
>y/nsfan: Dude they’re both legal adults it’s not like she’s underage or something.
> Username23: Still. It’s a bit weird he’s 41😳
Username347: She’s probably only after his money
> y/nswife22: Did you miss the part where they said that she’s an actress too. She literally makes as much money as he does🤷‍♀️
> username236: Still, there are enough guys on the planet that she could date that are around her age😬
Y/nsfan45: I’m actually really happy for her. Finally a guy that knows how to treat her right.
Yourusername
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Liked by SebastianStan, Y/nswife and 765000 others
Yourusername: Older men just do it better. Happy 4 months my love🫶🏼
Tagged: @SebastianStan
27 October 2023
Comments:
SebastianStan: Happy 4 months love🫶🏼
Y/nswife: 4 months?🫢
TimotheeChalamet: I’m finally able to speak again without almost spoiling this secret🫣
> Y/nsfan: All the people that thought that Timothée and Y/n were a couple are clowning so hard rn🤡
Y/nswife33: I’m so happy for her!!
Username23: The age gap is still a bit weird!
SebastianStan
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Liked by Yourusername, ChrisEvans and 765000 others
SebastianStan: What the kids call a hard launch these days. Happy 4 months love❤️
Tagged: @yourusername
27 October 2023
Comments:
Yourusername: Happy 4 months honey❤️
ChrisEvans: Congrats both of you😊
Y/nswife: Mother finally found a father for us!
Sebastianstanswife: I find them so cute together!!
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johnslittlespoon · 30 days
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– i think of you all of the time.
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yourbuckies · 1 year
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navybrat817 · 2 months
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my dearest navy, i’m sick for the first time in a long while and am in need of bucky to cheer me up and nurse me back to health 😭😭
please gift me with your favorite bucky picture/gif to help me feel better 🤲🏻🤲🏻 (only if you want to!!)
i love you and i hope you’re doing great🤍
Oh, Angel! I'm sorry you're not feeling well. I'll happily send an image. It's so hard to pick just one. I'm also positive that this is an edit (I think he was wearing a lighter sweatshirt that day), so if anyone knows who to credit as this was sent to me ages ago!
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It's an amazing photo. The beef, the hair, the hair tie, the sunglasses, the watch, the shirt tight enough to let you know he's sinful underneath and baggy enough that he's comfortable, candid and sexy as hell. It's perfection. The perfect photo to take of your boyfriend in the early stages of dating that you look at to put a smile on your face.
When he finds out, he starts wearing the shirt around you more often. He loves how your gaze lingers on for a few extra seconds whenever you see him. And when you get sick one day, he drapes it over your like a blanket. It's warm. Smells like him. It's comforting.
But you protest when he cuddles up beside you after you've eaten some soup. The last thing you need is for him to get sick. He only pulls you closer.
"Don't get if I get sick as long as you feel better. So unless you need me to get up and get you medicine, food, or a drink, I'm not going anywhere."
And watching you snuggle into his shirt as you drift off makes him fall in love with you a little bit more.
*****
I hope you feel better soon! Love and thanks. ❤️
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Bucky Barnes | Series | Loose
Part two of the Rebellion Series
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Plot: You and Bucky have no idea whether you can trust each other. There is an understanding, but you're not sure of what that understanding is and why it seems to run so deep.
Warning: Angst, violence and fluff (?)
Words: 4,1OO
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It is hard enough already for Bucky to fall asleep at night. Yes, it has gotten better in recent years, but there will always be that part of him – awake and aware – that registers every sound and movement, even when he should be knocked out. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that part of him sat more alert ever since you had joined the building. Perhaps because Bucky still wasn’t so confident in your allegiance.
He can’t stop overthinking it. He has seen what you’re capable of. Would you be capable of even more if people cornered you? If you felt like you had no other choice but to manipulate and kill your way out? After all, wasn’t it possible that you felt like you had moved from one prison to the next?
You’d been a delight at dinner two nights ago, but Bucky can’t turn off his brain. This is the part that made you win people over. The way you’d gotten along with Natasha like a house on fire, the way you’d shared stories like you and his team had been friends all along… Yet you had no trouble letting a side of yours slip through the cracks that tantalised Bucky beyond belief. The way you had looked at him, teased him–
The faintest rustle has Bucky shooting back to his current place in time. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He holds his breath in an effort to hear better.
Nothing.
However, something doesn’t sit right. Something is off. He’d learned that hypervigilance was a side effect of his trauma, but he had a hard time believing his intuition would betray him like that. Not when he had relied on it so successfully for years.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he whispers to the dark ceiling.
“Yes, sergeant Barnes?”
“Is everyone in their respectable rooms?” he tries.
“I cannot divulge that information,” the voice sounds and Bucky sighs. He musters up some strength and swings off his duvet before climbing out of bed.
Yeah, he doesn’t trust you for a second.
Your heart is pounding in your throat. This isn’t part of your skillset – the escape and combat. Though perhaps if you do the former correctly, you won’t have to resort to the latter. Escaping the compound had been surprisingly easy, which strangely made your chest hurt. It was way too easy to escape. But it made sense. Steve had told you that you weren’t being held captive and you being here was all in good faith.
Faith you just broke by making your escape.
You probably should have been more patient. Winning their trust a bit more and then making an escape, make sure they really don’t see it coming. But the dinner had made you antsy and impatient. You had to get out.
If you’re entirely honest with yourself, you know that getting attached to a new group of people and deciding to escape then – or worse, leading them into their demise later – would be worse than getting away now that no one has attached themselves to you. Or you to them…
Breaching the edge of the surrounding forest, you finally let go of the breath you’ve been holding. You did it. Out of sight, out of mind. You’re free. No more captivity, no more expectations. All you need to do now is leave the country, change your name and possibly dye your hair. Sounds easy enough. A bit dramatic, but not impossible.
That is, until you get dragged backwards by a hand over your mouth and you lose your footing. The hard body behind you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the muddy forest grounds. Your breathing is ragged as your hands both fly to grab the forearm attached to the hand covering your yelp.
The metal forearm.
“Rule number one of making your escape: never assume you’re in the clear,” Bucky’s voice rumbles through the night air, his mouth so very close to your ear. “Shouldn’t have dropped your guard when you reached the edge of the forest.”
His gloved hand removes itself from your mouth, but you know better than to make a run for it, or to scream. He twists you by your shoulders and you muster some playful guilt to your face, masking your disappointment. Disappointment… but you feel strangely relieved. Maybe the largeness of finally being free felt somewhat overwhelming. Move to another country and change your name? It’s ridiculous. And that, when the people here have been so patient and kind to you…
You let out a soft laugh, “Worth a shot, no?”
Bucky studies you intently and something in your gut stirs at it. Not even Natasha seems to have as good of a read on you as Bucky does. It makes you feel naked. Makes you feel like all of your carefully crafted plans are flimsy and no good. Makes you feel like you have to stay far, far away from Bucky. Like you need to run. Now.
And how the hell did he manage to figure out you were making your escape?
You wait for him to tell you off, preach against your indolence and call in backup to shove you into something more similar to a prison cell. But Bucky sighs, disappointed and tired.
He seems so, so tired.
“Let’s go back inside,” he says and you furrow your brows at him.
His defeat has your chest clenching tightly. You want him to punish you, scold you. At least show that he cares. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe you need to know that the relief you felt from being caught is somewhat mutual in a sense. That the people here don’t just see you as a weapon, despite the burden, but that you’re someone worth saving. Worth keeping around.
Worth healing.
“That’s it?” you ask. “No scolding or punishment?”
Bucky scoffs humourlessly. “You get a kick out of punishment, darling?”
You roll your eyes. “Seriously.”
“I’m not your fucking baby sitter,” he mutters and starts walking back to the building, rightfully assuming you’ll follow. “If you want, I can ask Steve to tell you off in the morning. He’s better at that sort of thing anyway.”
Some pathetic part of you wants to sulk at his response like an ill-tempered child. “Then why come after me?”
It stays quiet for a second as you cross the field towards the compound. “I couldn’t let a poor escape plan be successful.”
You can’t help but snort at that answer and decide that fine, you’d play along for now. But you wonder if the curious Bucky you’d seen a few days ago had completely vanished since that dinner.
The next morning, Bucky gets cornered by you after breakfast. He looks down his nose at your defiant face.
“You didn’t tell anyone about last night?” you ask him and he raises his brows, unimpressed.
It had surprised you that no one at breakfast mentioned anything or gave you even so much as a dirty look. Clearly, none of them are aware that you tried to make your escape last night. And you cannot for the life of you figure out why Bucky is taking it easy on you. Is he smart enough to assume that your own guilt will do more damage than he ever could? Is this part of some bigger scheme of his? Perhaps he is actually as tired and unbothered as he looked when you saw him in those woods.
“What happened last night?” he asks with a telling smirk. The current look on your face is worth the lack of sleep he had tonight. It’s too easy to rattle you. You roll your eyes and Bucky smirks even wider at that. Is he… flirting?
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you try again.
Bucky remains quiet and fights to keep a straight face. He did expect your question, but why didn’t he tell anyone? Because he thought you and him would get along after those tiny moments during that first dinner. Because the team would have let you walk away. Because Bucky doesn’t want you to go. Because he thinks he can help. Help the world. Help you. He thinks he can help you. And you can help him. And–
“Want me to tell them now?” he says instead.
He barely notices the flash of panic in your eyes before you cover it with an annoyed scoff and turn on your heel to walk away. He watches you. Every step until you are out of sight.
“You said she trusts you,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind him and Bucky schools his face back to bland interest before he turns to Steve. “That doesn’t look like she trusts you.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
Steve frowns pensively. “Well, speed up the process. We have an important mission and we need her for it.”
“What?” Bucky almost loses his restraint, his body flaring in alarm. “Steve, she hasn’t had any training. She was locked up for months. It’s too big of a risk–”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, Buck,” Steve tells him regretfully, but instantly notices that Bucky isn’t buying it. “This is the thing we needed her for.”
“She isn’t some kind of weapon!” Bucky exclaims and he notices Natasha turning away from her conversation in the nearest common room to see what the commotion is about. He gives her a warning look, then lowers his voice. “Steve. This could’ve been me,” Bucky breathes. And there it is. Recognition flickers in Steve’s eyes. “We can’t use her like this. She’s all alone.”
Steve looks past Bucky’s shoulder as if you’re still walking away from him. Angry frown, uptilted chin and swaying hips– Bucky almost looks. Then Steve sighs and looks back at his friend. “Take all the time you need. If she’s ready, I’ll explain the mission to her. I think she might want to help.”
Bucky reads over the file until his eyes turn bleary. Steve was right, you will want to help.
He thinks you can handle it, but… what if you encounter a trigger on the way? What if it all becomes too much? Bucky realises he isn’t nearly close enough to care this much, and he doesn’t, but who else but him is going to care whether you live or die? Sometimes Bucky wonders if even you care whether you live or die. What would have happened to Bucky if everyone had given up on him? He knows damn well that he’d be long dead if not so many people found him useful.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bucky never had a choice. So he finds himself knocking at your door at 10pm with the file in hand.
After opening the door, you barely manage to get a word out before Bucky extends the folder towards you. “Steve needs your help on this. It should be fine, but the choice is up to you.”
Quick. Brief. He’s just the messenger and the decision is all yours. Bucky turns and makes to walk away – before you can spot all of the thoughts crossing his mind – but your voice stops him.
“Will you be there?”
The question takes him by surprise. Turning back towards you and slowly walking to the doorframe you’re standing under, he creases his brows together. “You need me to come along?”
You shrug abashedly. “Will you?”
Bucky studies your face intently. “Yes,” he lies. He’ll figure something out with Steve.
“What if I can’t do what you need me to do?” There it is again. He doesn’t get why this vulnerable side of you keeps surprising him so much.
“You’ll be useful,” are his terrible words of comfort. He wants to palm himself in the face.
The suppressed smile you give him heats his face and he’s sure you’ll call him out on his horrible people skills, but you stay quiet. The silence grows and grows and Bucky starts to shift nonchalantly, wondering if he should walk off and let you read the file in private.
“Okay,” you say softly.
“You’re coming?”
“Yes,” you affirm and look up at him, handing the file back. “Do you not want me to go?”
“It’s your choice,” he tells you and gently takes the folder.
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
Some wall snaps up inside of him at that tone – at that hopeful look in your eyes. “You could use the mission to make your escape,” he says with a shrug and makes to turn away from you again. “I won’t stop you this time.”
He walks away, leaving you to gape at his retreating form.
The mission was simple enough.
Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you would be attending a gala. Supposedly, there is a certain divide between the guests in attendance. Your job is mainly to feel out just who will be willing to join your cause. What goes unsaid is that you’re also required to butter them up to spring into action when your team would deem it necessary.
The party is in full swing and everyone is finally losing their mask of formality and enjoying their evening. You just hit the sweet spot of their susceptibility and you sweep into casual conversation about politics. Seeing who keeps quiet, who isn’t scared to speak up, whose faces harden at the prospect of change, etcetera. All of your antennas are on and when you know people have stopped paying attention to you, that’s when you dare a glance across the room where you know Bucky is standing.
All dapper and handsome, wearing a very expensive suit.
All of you have taken thorough action to look exceptional and to blend in perfectly with the high class crowd. Being charming is easy enough, looking it was a necessity – yet, all of it does still feel very far removed from yourself. Like a betrayal to the woman who was locked up mere weeks ago. However, being a true professional, you don’t allow your thoughts to linger too much and channel back to the matter at hand.
Then you feel it.
The searing heat that starts at your legs and spreads all the way up to your chest and cheeks. Like a virus burning over your skin. And you know what it is – know who it is. So you look back in the direction of Bucky, if only to catch him in the act.
But he’s unbothered. Brooding and observing from the bar in the shadow of the room, somehow alone and undiscovered by most of the crowd (a skill you assume he has acquired over the years). And his eyes are still on you. They glide down and back up for even more emphasis and you swallow away the dryness in your throat.
Gliding a sensual hand over the arm of the man next to you, you excuse yourself with a warm smile and slowly stride over to the culprit. Bucky waits patiently, and you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you walk over. He hands you a spare glass of champagne and turns his back to the room when you’re close enough to hear him.
“It’s working,” he says and you swear he sounds slightly impressed.
“Did you assume I’d fuck up?” you taunt and lean over the bar, sipping at the glass flute between your fingers. Bucky turns to you and his eyes sweep over the curve of your partly exposed back, the hollow of your spine and the curve of your ass. Then he holds his breath for a moment.
“Wouldn’t be mad if you did,” he tells you and his tone sounds gentle. You know that’s why he’s here, even though neither of you said it out loud, you know he’s here to stick up for you if you can’t get it done yet. If you’re not ready to be that person again.
Just like he probably knows that you’re here because the guilt of trying to escape from your saviours was eating you alive. And you didn’t want to prove Bucky right by escaping. You had glanced at the exits a few times and debated it, yes, but then looked at your team and thought against it. Looked at Bucky and–
“We’ll leave in five minutes,” Bucky murmurs as he finishes his glass. “I noted down all the people you signed as potential allies and who definitely isn’t.”
“There’s a few we can convince to help,” you cut in.
“What? The woman who runs that capitalist shitshow?” Bucky frowns. “Nah, she’s only motivated by money.”
You smile at him knowingly. “Money is a great motivator and our movement could benefit her greatly, so you just have to nudge her in the right direction.”
Bucky studies your face then and you might have found it less penetrating when he looked at your body with that stare. That intrigue. “And you already have a plan to tip her over to our side,” he concludes.
“You chose me for this for a reason, did you not?” you ask.
His eyes drop to your mouth. “I like a woman who takes her job seriously.”
You have no idea where that came from, but decide to go along with it anyway. You smirk and empty your flute, gently setting it down on the bar after. “Here I was, thinking you didn’t like anyone,” you purr and saunter off to find your other teammates and round up today’s mission.
You turn around when you hear Bucky yelling out your name, but then the room spins and debris flies everywhere. You’d cry out if the wind didn’t whoosh from your body and your ears don’t hollow out. You want to voice your discovery, as futile as it is, but the scream dies in your throat.
Someone just blew up the building.
It feels like there’s ash in your mouth. And throat. Your body bleats in pain, but nothing too severely. Maybe you’re in shock. Maybe you can’t feel a limb that’s no longer there. Maybe–
The room is dark except for an orange hue that travels over the ceiling and walls every few seconds. You’re slumped in a velvet chair and your fingers pluck softly at the fabric. One by one, your senses weave together and you hear the soft sounds of someone working on something. Paper ruffling, some gentle work, someone who’s trying to be quiet. You rasp in a raw breath and see a shadow at the bottom of your vision. But your body is relaxed. Or… Well, as relaxed as it can be.
There was an explosion.
“Have some water,” Bucky offers from his kneeling position between your legs and nudges his chin to the glass at the small table next to your chair. His voice is soft, raw. And when you squint at him while you blindly reach for the glass, you see soot on his face, dust on his suit.
“Are you alright?” you ask and your voice reminds you to take the drink. The water feels like heaven in your throat and you nearly gulp down the whole glass.
Bucky pauses at your question and surely he didn’t expect that to be your first question. “I’m fine,” he grumbles and focuses on the task at hand. Which, you quickly realise, is cleaning up the wound on your thigh.
Next to him, there’s a small container with small shards of glass in there and a used pair of tweezers. You feel the prickle of the wound at your thigh and observe closely as he presses some gauze to the puncture wounds. His hands are firm and steady as he wraps a bandage around your thigh to secure the gauze. His calluses scrape against your soft skin and you almost swear he takes more time than he should securing the bandage.
You heave a deep sigh and straighten up in the chair. “Natasha and Sam?”
“Natasha was sent to hunt down the ones responsible and needed an aerial patrol, so she took Sam.” Bucky clenches his jaw and you have a feeling it took some convincing to get Bucky to not go after the bastards himself, to let Natasha handle it instead. “There were deaths, lots of wounded.”
You flinch at that.
Bucky notices it. The glaze over your eyes and the tightening of your fingers into the soft fabric of the chair. He barely allows himself to hesitate and he cover your left hand with his right one, taking your fingers and stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “We got out as many as we could, no one saw the explosion coming,” he explains and hopes the information brings you some peace. He’s desperate to take that haunted look off your face, but doesn’t know how.
He gives you time then. Allows you to sort through your memories and shush them. He strokes his thumb gently and squeezes your fingers every once in a while to anchor you to here, to being safe. Your breaths go from shallow to deep as they slow. He hears your heartbeat steady and watches clarity fill your eyes again.
Fuck him. Those eyes.
“Tomorrow, we go over your list and see what we can do. Let’s get some rest for now.” He pushes to a stand and moves to remove his hand from yours, but you hold onto him.
“I’m sorry for trying to escape,” you rasp and Bucky tenses at that. He did not expect that confession. Didn’t expect an apology either – he didn’t think one was warranted.
You slowly push to a stand and Bucky’s heartbeat spikes as you wobble on your legs before you steady yourself. His eyes search your face frantically and he tries not to linger at your lips for too long. You gently stroke a hand down his arm before brushing past him in thanks, and Bucky has to take a deep breath. A flash of you doing the same thing to one of tonight’s guests comes to him and jealousy hits him, a little too viciously. Just like it did when he saw it earlier tonight.
He turns around and watches as you walk up the small bag he packed for an instance like this. You pull out some clothes and Bucky shamelessly stares while you do it. He almost sighs as the sight of that orange hue travelling over your form, most of the sleek dress still intact and definitely still doing its job of making you look good enough to eat.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” he blurts. But he stands still as he watches you freeze. You slowly turn to him and tilt your head at him curiously.
Then, a slow smirk spreads over your face and your brows raise playfully. Bucky frowns as he tries to read the expression on your face, even if the lightness of it makes him want to drop to his knees in relief. This is much, much better than that haunted look that was there mere minutes ago.
Until one of your hands lifts from the bag, a small scrap of lace dangling from your fingers. “I am never letting you pack our getaway bag again.”
Bucky matches your smirk and strides over to you, close enough that you have to tip your chin up to remain eye contact. “You can choose not to wear it,” he shrugs and the nonchalant gesture makes your legs weak. Slowly, he starts unbuttoning his own pants and shirt, stripping himself of his clothes and tempting you to break that eye contact. “But we’re sharing a bed, so you decide what is less tempting for me to look at.”
It takes everything inside of you not to balk at this… flirtation. But it’s nice – so fucking nice to deflate that balloon of tension after a mission like the one you had tonight. To have banter and humour and perhaps a little friendship.
“I better not catch you looking at all,” you snipe, but have a hard time keeping the smile off your face.
Bucky smiles too then and gives you a wink powerful enough to set your clothes aflame. “Too bad. You can’t ask that of me and look like that.”
That does render you a bit speechless and Bucky takes his win as he strips himself to his boxers. Climbing under the sheets, Bucky’s powerful body shifts and ripples with movement.
This is going to be a long night.
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ladyyystark · 30 days
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Give me old-fashioned lover Bucky Barnes. A gentleman in the 21st century and Peter is baffled because Bucky makes him feel living in a period film.
Bucky buying flowers for Peter. Every. Single. Monday. Why? Because he fucking can and wants.
Instead of grabbing hands, Bucky would offer his arm to Peter while walking. Peter always takes it.
Bucky doesn't believe in splitting the bill. Fuck no. He would just stand up, look for the waiter, or go to the cashier and pay, and when he comes back to the table while Peter just finishes his dessert he would ask "you're done, doll? Okay, let's go". And Peter is like "wait, we haven't paid" just for Bucky to look at him and say "yes, I did. Let's go home, doll".
Bucky giving Peter his coat because is freezing and Peter has problems with his thermoregulation.
Bucky opening the door for Peter.
While making love (or the most mind-blowing fuck, depends on the day) Bucky will make sure Peter finishes first. And twice at least before he can have his turn.
Bucky always pulling out Peter's chair before he sits down.
Idk how to express this correctly in English but the idea is Bucky walking closer to the street side and Peter to the wall side when they go outside.
Bucky recognizes that Peter is hella strong (and stronger than himself) but that won't stop him from spoiling his boy. He likes doing things for Peter because he loves him, and you protect, respect, and take care of what you love.
In conclusion: James Buchanan Barnes being a gentleman.
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rainblescake · 2 months
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Beta Bucky you're so silly I wonder what silly little adventures you went on
(ft that one vulture guy from that nightmare minigame that was scrapped bc I think they're cool)
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staud · 3 months
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Hambone with a cat – MOTA 1x07
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