Super Soldier Domesticated | Bucky Barnes X Reader
Super Soldier Domesticated | Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Domestic scenes with Bucky Barnes, because Bucky Barnes deserves to be HAPPY.
A/N: I have returned to pray at the altar of James Buchanan Barnes. Thunderbolts dropped and flooded my insta feed. Oh, how past me would have rejoiced in all of this Bucky content.
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: fluff, implications of smut, language, possible misinformation about various contraceptive devices (please inform yourselves lol)
-
Bucky Barnes was the fist of Hydra.
He’d spent decades being shaped into the perfect asset—ruthless, detached, the ultimate killing machine. He was cruel. He was dangerous. He was violent.
He’d been tortured. He’d been torn apart and stitched back together, and only when barely an inkling of the man he used to be remained, they’d set him loose on the world.
It was almost funny, Bucky thought now as he looked down at his working hands. To think what this arm—this near indestructible artificial limb—had been created for. It had squeezed the life from many a target, had pulled the triggers of guns and survived explosions. It had brought unspeakable pain upon his victims.
And yet …
“Not too tight, Bucky.”
Her voice had come quietly, softly, and from where he sat on the edge of the bed, Bucky could tell that her eyes had slipped closed a while ago. She sat on the floor between his legs, with her own legs crossed and her back straight.
Bucky loosened his grip at once, the strands of her hair now looser in his palms.
“Like this?” he asked, only taking his eyes off her face once an approving hum resonated through her chest.
“Perfect.”
A smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he went back to work. Right strand over, pull the middle to the right, then repeat with the left. It was tough to keep each of the three strands separated—nimble work, delicate. This was his second attempt after the first had ended in a merging of the left and the middle strand. It had been chaos.
“I can’t believe you manage to do this behind your head,” he spoke quietly, fingers moving a little faster with every inch he managed to braid successfully.
“Years of practice.” There was a smile in her voice. It warmed Bucky’s chest. “Hey, Buck?”
He hummed to signal that he was listening, concentrating on getting the bottom of the braid right. She’d warned him that it could get tricky to avoid shorter strands of hair from sticking out at the side.
“Would you mind running to the store later?”
“’Course not, doll,” he mumbled, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he pinched the end of her braid between his fingers to carefully slip on the hair tie he kept on his wrist. It was one of his, but ever since he’d cut his hair, he didn’t need them anymore, and so they’d long been adopted by Y/N, merging with her own hair accessories in the small bathroom they shared.
When he finished, he carefully draped the braid over her shoulder, succumbing to the urge to touch her with a single finger brushing along her neck.
“What do you think?”
Delicate fingers found the braid, and Y/N turned her head far enough to peek down at his work. Bucky found himself holding his breath in anticipation of her verdict.
When she looked up at him, she offered a smile. It was the wide kind—the beaming kind. It was the kind to touch the corners of her eyes and have Bucky’s heart stutter in a way that would be worrying if it wasn’t for the serum in his veins that pretty much prevented cardiac arrest.
“Perfect job, baby,” she said, craning her neck towards him. Bucky smiled when he leaned forward to meet her in a kiss.
-
Left hand clutching the handle of the shopping basket, Bucky stuck to an empty aisle to study the yellow post-it note she’d written him.
Granola
Eggs (2 dozen)
Apples
Tomatoes
Grated cheese (Gouda or Cheddar)
Toothpaste (2x)
Tampons
Ice cream (!!!)
He smirked at the three exclamation marks behind ice cream, carved deep enough into the paper to leave grooves on the other side. There was exactly one type of ice cream she loved, and ever since he’d bought the wrong one once, she’d taken to reminding him on every note she wrote.
By now, he knew the layout of the supermarket well enough that he could find his way in the dark. They were good for him, these mundane tasks. He needed routine, needed something to do. It gave him peace to do something that was important but did not include guns, or bombs, or mission reports. It gave him peace to function in this little bubble he inhabited with Y/N.
He stood before the shelf with the period products now, two cartons with a dozen eggs each already secured in his basket. They were mainly for him. He ate four each morning.
Bucky could not recall a time when he didn’t know everything there was to know about the absorbency of Tampons. He knew the brands, knew the sizes, knew that Y/N preferred the ones without the applicator because she thought the extra piece of plastic was an unnecessary waste.
Two purple boxes fell into his basket before he moved on to the ice box.
-
The headboard pressed into Bucky’s back as he held out the tub of ice cream for Y/N to dig her spoon in. They’d agreed it was best he hold it, as his was the only hand that would not eventually freeze.
He loved these moments with her. He lived for them.
She lay next to him, one leg stretched before her, the other bend at the knee. She was wearing one of his shirts and a thick pair of socks, leaning most of her weight against his shoulder. Bucky found it soothing.
“It’s one of the only options without hormones,” she explained before her spoon vanished into her mouth, then adding with her mouth full, “But it’s supposed to hurt like a bitch when they put it in.”
Bucky gave a grunt, scraping some off the top of the ice cream with his own spoon. “I read that it increases bleeding. Makes your cramps worse, too.”
“Well, that only leaves hormonal birth control then.”
Bucky frowned.
It had taken some explaining for Bucky to fully understand the intricacies of new age contraception, but he found that he didn’t like the idea of something messing with her hormones—with her health.
“There’s nothing I could take?”
She thought about it for a moment, lips clasped tightly around her spoon. The sight almost took Bucky’s mind off the topic at hand. Almost.
“Afraid not,” she finally said with a small sigh through her nose. “Unless you want to get snipped,” she added with a pained smile.
Bucky offered her the tub and watched as she dug a large spoonful from the centre.
“I might be sterile anyway, darlin’,” he finally said quietly.
They’d spoken about it—the possibility that the serum had done some irreversible damage to Bucky’s system. He’d already gotten tested before he’d met her, but it had been hard for the doctors to tell. No one was accustomed to a super soldier organism. The best they’d been able to tell him was that it was likely either one extreme or the other.
“Sterile or super-soldier-fertile,” Y/N repeated what he’d told her. “And your body would likely just heal you if you got a vasectomy.”
Bucky tilted his head as he looked at her. “I don’t actually mind us using condoms.”
It had been Y/N who’d brought up the possibility for her to start taking birth control, but Bucky could not quite shake the feeling that she’d mentioned it mainly for his sake.
Y/N hummed in thought, lifting her free hand to push her fingers through his hair, tugging gently at the ends. Bucky’s eyes slipped close for just a second.
“Forever?” she asked pensively, pursing her lips. “It seems easier for me to just get something permanent. An implant, or an IUD.” A thought crossed her mind then, and she narrowed her eyes at him with interest. “What did you do in the 40s?”
Bucky pulled a face. “Ah, couldn’t tell ya. Pulled out and hoped for the best.”
Truth be told, Bucky had never really bothered with it back in his youth. He’d known that they were experimenting with jellies and creams—he’d heard it from a girl he’d been going out with. There’d been condoms of course, but they weren’t nearly as common as they were nowadays, and frankly Bucky wouldn’t have been able to afford them even if they had been.
Y/N snorted. It was a delightful sound.
“So what you’re telling me is you might have some unknown descendants scattered around the world?”
Bucky smirked down at the ice cream, a cold drop of water trickling in between the vibranium tiles of his hand.
“I would’ve heard,” he said. “Wasn’t like I was sleeping with the whole neighbourhood.”
She hummed, grinning when she pressed her nose into his cheek. “I don’t believe you for one second. Not with that charm of yours.”
“I don’t want you taking hormones,” Bucky said suddenly, turning to meet Y/N’s gaze. “Not for me. I read some horror stories online, doll. About blood clots, embolisms, heart attacks. I know they’re rare, but I would never forgive myself if something happened.”
She considered him for a moment, smiling when she lifted a hand to squeeze his chin between her thumb and index finger.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Condoms it is then.”
-
“I can’t believe this!”
There was anger in her voice, a deep crease between her brows when she turned to look at Bucky, throwing her arms up in exasperation.
“You are one hundred years old,” she snapped. “How are you this fucking good at Mario Kart?!”
Bucky felt his lip twist at the corners, smirking as he flicked through the different racetracks on screen. They’d been playing for a little over an hour, and so far, Bucky had managed to beat her in every single round, scoring first place with a substantial lead each time.
“How about this snowy one next?”
At her silence, he turned to find a deadpan expression adorning her features.
“Yes, Bucky,” she said, words dripping with sarcasm. “Let’s do the fucking snow track.”
Bucky couldn’t stop his grin from widening, reaching out his human hand to pinch her cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re competitive.”
Swatting after his hand, Y/N harrumphed and turned back towards the TV. She sat straight-backed as a soldier with her legs crossed beneath her, while Bucky lay back against the couch with his legs stretched out on the plush ottoman before him.
“I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense,” she muttered to herself. “You pause Netflix movies by clicking the pause button with your cursor. You shouldn’t be this good at a video game.”
Bucky snorted, pushing at her shoulder with the back of his wrist, to which her cheeks lifted, betraying her grin despite her attempts to hide it.
“Today’s youth is rude,” Bucky muttered.
He thought he heard her giggle, which had warmth seep through his chest. But of course, it felt nothing as good as the rush of triumph he experienced at the large golden 1 appearing on his side of the screen after a few minutes spent racing in concentrated silence.
“Unbelievable,” Y/N half-yelled at the TV, waving her hands so much, Bucky feared for a moment that her controller would go flying into the screen. “Un. Fucking. Believable.”
While Bucky’s little green dinosaur celebrated by waving from his motorcycle, Bucky lifted a shoulder. “I’m a good driver.”
“This game in no way reflects real life driving skills.”
“Sure, it does.”
Y/N opened her mouth, and Bucky could tell that she was readying herself to argue. Before she could, however, he discarded his controller and wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her down towards him.
At once, she began to laugh, struggling against his grip as he attempted to wrestle the controller from her hands.
“You need a time out,” Bucky announced, dodging her elbows as she attempted to keep the controller out of his reach.
“One more!” she gasped, twisting and turning in Bucky’s hold, giggling as she did so. “I need to beat you at least once.”
“You’re gonna have a heart attack with that road rage of yours.”
She scoffed in mock outrage, but Bucky lowered his lips to hers before she could continue. She was laughing against him, wiggling when he finally got hold of her controller without looking, pushing at his shoulder when he began to scatter small kisses across her face.
But with every second, her resistance lessened, her body melting into his hold, her laughter softening into amused hums, until finally, her fingers curled into the hair on the back of Bucky’s head, and she met his lips with enthusiasm. Her controller—finally acquired, but already long forgotten—slipped from Bucky’s grip to clatter to the ground.
-
Bucky’s fingers pressed into the flesh of her hips, jaw tight and head tilted back into a pillow as the tension in his body slowly ebbed away to make room for a comfortable, cushy daze that warmed his body from head to toe.
She shook in his hands, the last of her breath rushing from her lungs in a hitched gasp. She tensed, thighs pressing firmly on the sides of his hips, and then it seemed her bones turned into something soft, pliable, as her body sank to his for her lips to rest in the crook of his neck.
For a moment, there was just their shared breathing to be heard—fast, choppy, warm. Bucky lifted his head only far enough to peer over her shoulder, watching the black metal of his hand detach itself from her skin without a mark left behind. Ever since those first times, those first bruises when he hadn’t yet gotten used to the strength of his arm in a context such as this, he paid extra attention.
With a soft groan, she pushed to her hands to look down at him with a glint in her eye. Bucky pushed the hair from her face, running his thumb along a swollen bottom lip, along the bridge of her nose, and the arch of her cheekbone.
Y/N pushed her face deeper into his palm, eyes slipping shut.
“I won’t ever get tired of this,” she breathed, to which Bucky smirked.
“I sure hope you won’t, dollface.”
Her nose scrunched at the drawled pet name. She’d always found it corny, but the corners of her lips curled higher nonetheless.
“I’m—”
“Hungry,” Bucky finished, sitting up with a groan of his own, one arm curled behind her back. “Comin’ right up.”
Y/N gasped in mock offence. “That’s not what I was going to say!”
Bucky rose a single brow, one arm pushing into the mattress behind him to keep him upright. She was always hungry after. Sometimes more, sometimes less. But most times ended in a late night snack shared on the couch, in the kitchen, in their bed.
“What were you going to say, then?”
She pursed her lips, letting a few seconds tick by silently, and Bucky knew then and there that she had nothing.
“I wanted to say,” she declared importantly, lifting her hands to hold his face between her palms. “That I’m in love with you.”
“I’m in love with you too, darlin’.” Bucky couldn’t help his rising cheeks. “I’m just gonna lay back down then—”
“And also,” she interrupted, pausing by kissing him deep enough for his mind to buzz when she pulled back with a satisfied smirk. “That I might just be a teensy bit hungry.”
A husky laugh slipped from Bucky’s throat, and with his arms wrapping around her tightly, he stood in a swift move, taking her with him as he went.
-
“So what I’m saying is,” Y/N said, swinging her legs as she lifted another piece of orange to her lips, chewing as she continued. “While I do agree that a beach vacation would be nice, I think going to Scotland would be a lot more interesting.”
Bucky kept his attention on the board before him, chopping tomatoes into somewhat uniform little cubes as he listened. She sat not far to his left on the countertop. The smell of citrus crawled up his nose.
“It rains a lot in Scotland.”
“Yes, but think of the castles. The highlands. The cows.”
“If we go to Portugal, we could lay in the sun all day. Swim. Fool around.”
An amused sound left her throat, her thumb pushing into the orange to break off another piece. She held it out to him, and Bucky leaned over to take it with his teeth.
“Fool around?” she giggled. “What are we, teenagers? Besides, we can do that anywhere. And it would be a lot cozier in a little hut in the highlands when it’s raining.”
Bucky weighed his head from side to side, considering her words.
“Think about it,” she added. “One is sweaty, sticky, and hot; the other is cozy and cuddly.”
“I honestly can’t tell which of those you think is the less desirable option.”
She laughed at that, chewing while Bucky scattered the tomatoes into the pan already holding a still liquid layer of egg, followed by shredded cheese, salt and pepper.
“I thought you didn’t like heat.”
“What made you think that?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Well, you always kick away the blankets, and you never notice when it’s too cold in a room. I thought it was part of the whole supersoldier shebang.”
Bucky rose a shoulder. “I don’t mind heat. Especially not when a pretty dame is involved.”
She burst out laughing at that, and Bucky smiled as he watched from the corner of his eye.
“Fine, fine. You win, Barnes,” she chuckled, offering him another piece of orange that he took with a quick kiss to the back of her hand. “I will fool around with you at the beach. But if we get kicked out of Portugal for public indecency, we’re going to the highlands.”
“Deal.”
After flipping the omelette with a skilled flick of the pan, Bucky folded it in half and placed it carefully on a nearby plate. Y/N beamed as he handed it to her.
“You’re the bestest,” she said, craning her neck for a kiss. “Thank you.”
Bucky stepped between her legs, opening his mouth when she offered him a forkful of omelette, already chewing herself. His palms found her thighs, her skin covered by a plush bathrobe to match his own in both colour and pattern.
The fist of Hydra, standing in a dimly lit kitchen with his love and an omelette. He could get used to this—he already had gotten used to this—and as he looked down at the black metal thumb he ran along the smooth skin of a thigh, he wondered how this limb had ever been used for something other than making omelettes for his love.
-
A/N: Can you believe it's been three whole years since I wrote a Bucky fic????? TF
More Posts from Nandanandada and Others
Chocaholics Anonymous
For @buck-star 's Easter Challenge 🐣🐰
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Trope: Friends to lovers
Prompt: 🐰 Choclate (way toooooooooooo much)
Word count: ?
Tags/Warnings: None. Just really goofy fluff
Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through AI. All of my work is 18+ so read at your own risk.
Summary: You notice that your chocolate stash is depleting rapidly and begin a note exchange with your chocolate thief.
Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics
A/N: Also 350+ followers?? Hi you guys!! ☺️
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Navigation
Your chocolate stash was a chocoholic's dream. Hidden in the back of the dustiest, least used kitchen cupboard was a fake backing; with no pipes running through it to make sure no one accidentally stumbled upon your stash.
Steve and Thor were cretins when it came to chocolate and - probably due to their size and training regimens - could eat your stash in one sitting. However, you'd chewed them out so bad you thought they would burst into tears, and then promptly devised your super secret stash cupboard to ensure it never happened again.
Which was why you were surprised to find that, even though you'd definitely replaced your fake backing when you last used it, your stash had most definitely depleted.
You couldn't remember eating the bars that were missing. Even if you had somehow managed to sleep walk to your cupboard, the lack of evidence in wrappers and chocolate smears was concerning.
You didn't want to signal to the other avengers that you had a new secret stash, or that you knew one of them was a thief, so you opted to leave a note printed from the team's computer. With a team full of spies, geniuses and magic users, you didn't need the thief to know who you were from your handwriting.
Placing the note clearly upon the chocolate pile you re-fix the fake backing, the words slowly fading from view.
I know who you are. Count your days chocolate thief (<.<)
Bucky was surprised to find a note left on top of the supposedly abandoned chocolate stash he'd stumbled upon. He had - incorrectly - assumed that the chocolate stash had been long forgotten about and that the goldmine of sweet, cocoa-y goodness was his and his alone. Knowing that he was in fact a thief, made him feel only slightly guilty as he reached for another chocolate bar, deciding that he would leave a note of his own and replace what he'd taken.
Clearly, whoever had left the note and created this hidden stash wanted to remain anonymous. However, he wondered who on earth on the team it could be.
You read out the newest note aloud in the quiet of your room, trying to put together a mental list of suspects as you skim the words.
"Dear Chocolate Fairy," you begin, already frowning. "I'm sorry for eating your chocolate. Great. At least there's an apology."
You sigh. An apology meant it couldn't have been Tony; he'd never apologise for something like that. Maybe buy you stock in Cadbury but never apologise apologise.
"To make it up to you, I'll buy your favourite to replace what I stole. Just leave me a note of your chocolate of choice."
You nod approvingly but keep your frown as you type up your new note into a word document. Who on earth was your Anonymous Chocolate Thief?
A week later, you were no closer to finding the identity of your Chocolate Thief.
Steve and Clint were on a mission when the last note appeared, Thor was off world and when you'd subtly asked Bruce if he'd like any chocolate from the store he'd told you he preferred savoury snacks and asked if you'd pick up some Pringles instead.
On your weekly coffee meet with Natasha, you ask her about her chocolate preferences, only earning you a sigh.
"This again?" She tuts. "You're a chocaholic. Besides, with Steve and Thor gone you have nothing to worry about and you don't keep chocolate in the tower anymore. What's bothering you?"
You look sheepishly into your hot chocolate and try to come up with a good excuse.
"Nothing." You sip at your chocolate-y concoction. You couldn't tell Nat about your chocolate issue because she'd find out who it was immediately and truth be told you were enjoying your game of Whodunnit. "Anyways, tell me about that last mission you were on..."
"Man, this is too much chocolate. Even for you." Sam had rummaged through some of Bucky's grocery bags to find that at least two of them were filled with chocolate bars. "What are you gonna do with all this?"
Bucky eyes him suspiciously before snatching the bar he was holding out of his hand. "None of your business."
Sam throws up his hands in defeat before sneaking another bar into his pocket. "Do I need to let Steve know in case this is a... Thing?"
Bucky frowns over at Sam, picking up the grocery bags in his left hand. "A Thing?"
"Yeah. A Thing." Sam frowns back, folding his arms over his chest. "You're hoarding chocolate like it's gold so unless you're plotting something, I don't see how you're gonna eat that much."
Bucky purses his lips in consideration before sighing, realising Sam was correct and that he was acting stranger than usual. "I...you're gonna have to trust me Sam, this isn't for me."
"Right."
"I swear."
"Yeah." Sam shakes his head. "Whatever man, if you get stuck in a chocolate coma I'm not helping you out of it."
Bucky rolls his eyes and is about to pad off to his room to wait until everyone is asleep to access the secret stash but halts when Sam chirps behind him.
"You should ask Y/N if she wants any of your bars."
"What? Why?" Bucky turns back to Sam with a curious look.
"She's a chocaholic to the max." Sam chuckles and gives Bucky a knowing smirk. "Besides, it might gain you some points in her favour don't you think?"
Bucky spins around on his heel to try and hide the warmth gracing his cheeks but Sam had already spotted it and snorts, calling after him.
"And try smiling more!"
The following night, you almost burst into laughter when you open up the false backing. The stash is filled to the brim with your favourite chocolate that you feel sick just looking at it. Attached to the very top is a note that reads "Sorry :(".
A small twinge of guilt twists in your stomach and you feel a little disappointed that your Chocolate Thief is no more. You'll never know their identity - and you wonder if your mysterious Chocolate Thief will visit your dreams as a handsome man who looks suspiciously like one Bucky Barnes.
You sigh picking up a bar. There's so much chocolate stuffed inside it could take you a year to eat through it all. You startle when you hear the approach of footsteps, and begin hurriedly shoving chocolate bars back into the cupboard, smacking your head as you jump off the ground.
"Hi." You say, trying not to look too frazzled as Bucky appears.
"Hey." He says and for a moment you both stare at eachother in the dark of the kitchen.
"What are you doing up so late?" You stall, kicking a stray bar across the kitchen floor.
"Uh..." Bucky panics and then wiggles a piece of paper he's holding. "Report."
"Couldn't it wait till the morning?" You ask, starting to smile.
"Couldn't sleep." Bucky finishes lamely before smiling shyly. "You?"
"Same." You lie but if staying up meant eating chocolate and speaking with Bucky, you'd gladly pay the price of no sleep. "Want a cocoa?"
Bucky snorts. "Sam said you were a chocaholic."
You shrug trying to play it off but man, you really did have a reputation.
"I'm thinking of starting a club." You say playfully, heading to the cupboard for a mug. "Chocaholics Anonymous. What do you think?"
Your grin widens when you hear Bucky's laughter, heart fluttering when you catch a playful gleam in his blue eyes.
"I think you'd be the only member." Bucky says, watching you make your chocolate drink with a hint of jealousy.
"I could get Steve and Thor involved." You say mock-thoughtfully.
"Do you even have a favourite chocolate if you're a chocaholic?" Bucky asks curiously.
"Oh yeah." You say nonchalantly, adding heaped teaspoons of cocoa mix to your mug, uttering your favourite bar without a second thought. "But there's different brands who use different amounts of cocoa to milk solids and blah blah blah."
You turn and fix Bucky with another smile. "What about you?"
Bucky opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. He can feel heat crawling all over his face and a smile itching to break free; you were the Chocolate Fairy. It was your stash he'd broken into.
No wonder you'd been so touchy about your chocolate.
"I don't have a favourite." Bucky says. "I take what I can get my hands on."
You falter at his words for a moment before grabbing the milk from the fridge. "Yuh huh. I know the type."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky teases and you giggle as you put your cocoa in the microwave.
"Nothing."
"It didn't sound like nothing."
"Bucky, come on -"
"Sounds like you were insinuating I was some sort of Chocolate Thief."
You spin around to face him pointing wildly. Bucky points back accusingly.
"You're the Chocolate Thief!" You gasp.
"You're the Chocolate Fairy!" Bucky exclaims back.
A moment passes before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles, interrupted only by the ding of the microwave.
"You bought wayyy too much chocolate, Buck." You snicker, grabbing your mug. "But I'll happily share it with you."
"Sam did say I went overboard but I have a better idea." You raise an eyebrow at Bucky, who gives you a cheeky smile. "We choose some snacks and a movie, melt the chocolate and gorge ourselves into a chocolate coma."
You nod excitedly, your stomach swooping with joy. "It's a date, Thief."
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Brother from another mother
Wyatt being the new extrovert to Sebastian while Anthony is away😭
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My mann
༻ ♡ ༺
He’s never considered himself to be a religious man. Not in the 40’s and certainly not now. Though….he does feel the slight guilt when he’s with you. Like there really is a big man above wagging his finger because he’s dating a twenty something year old. Dating as a centurion just feels icky. Like touching something sticky, or stepping on a wad of gum. Even the word “boyfriend” makes him cringe. He’s far past the stage of “boy” and he’s sure it makes people expect some college aged brat, and not well…him. He’s a congressman now, dating at his age is…embarrassing to say the least. He feels less embarrassed when you’re giving him kisses in and attention, irrelevant. You got carded when he took you out, carded, he didn’t get checked—well he did just in a judgy sort of way.
He would’ve courted you if he had gotten the chance. Would’ve asked for permission and pick you up to go out to the theatre or to a carnival. Though things never seem to work out the way he wants. He’s rubbing your back as you lie on his chest scrolling on your phone, taking the time to show him something silly that made you laugh. The little tank top you’re wearing isn’t jarring, he’s gotten used to 21st century fashion. Still, he knows, had this been his early twenties it would really make his head spin. You regularly keep him on his toes.
He sighs, which makes you look up at him. “okay?” You ask, he smooths your hair down and nods. “Fine, little sleepy.” He murmurs, getting you to lay your head back down. “You wanna go to sleep?” You ask and he shakes his head, he feels like an old man enough, he doesn’t need a bedtime. You go back to lying down and he feels like a worm again. The softness and smoothness of your skin, god, you aren’t even calloused. Just never worked a day in your life have you? He wants to make sure you never have to. You’re not some midlife crisis, he’s ready to ride or die. Both probably soon, he doesn’t worry about it that much anymore, you’ve done a lot to ease his worries. He’s knows you aren’t a baby, you’re a modern lady, and he’s trying to be your modern man.
credit to @cursed-carmine for dividers
In tears😭
Hey darling! I loooove AHMBI (and fuck you Ophelia, you bitch). But I'm not doing very good, my dog is really sick and I'm heartbroken💔. If requests are open, can I ask for one where reader's pet is sick and how Bucky comforts her or something? ( could be Alpine too, if you want). If not, that's okay, I'll love you regardlles♥️ I always look foward to your fics 🥰♥️
I’m so sorry this took me so long to get to, my darling. It has been in the back of my head since you sent the ask and I just haven’t taken the time to get it out. So, Hurricane Ida has freed up some time for me to work on it. I hope you enjoy.
Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader
Trigger Warning: Death of a pet
Despite the rain, you cracked the window leading out to the fire escape, knowing your visitor would be here soon. Technically, your dog’s visitor. Your fifteen year old daschu-huahua-terrier, Sir Didymus (Didy for short) had fallen in love with a beautiful white cat that would show up on your fire escape nearly daily. They would sit on opposite sides of the window and calmly watch each other.
One beautiful day, you had the windows open to air out your apartment when the cat dropped right in and curled up with Didy on the couch. They had napped together, played, and cleaned each other before a gruff voice could be heard calling “Alpine!” The cat, who you now guessed was named Alpine, scurried out the window and down the fire escape. You had looked down to see if you could identify her owner but saw no one. From then on, you left the window cracked enough for her to shimmy through after you got home from work each day or around that same time on the weekends and, like clockwork, Alpine showed up. When her owner called out for her, she left again. She rarely missed a visit and you had begun to wonder about her owner after this went on for the better part of eight months.
Each time you caught one of your male neighbors at the elevator, the mailbox, or the laundry, you wondered if they were Alpine’s owner. You had finally determined that she lived in the apartment three floors below you and you knew her owner had dark hair as you had seen his head before he ducked back in once, but you thought it would be strange to follow her down. Your innate awkwardness kept you from asking around but once you’d determined that he lived in 4E you began taking more notice. The mailbox said Barnes on it and you wondered if it was the absolutely gorgeous hunk that you’d only ever caught a glimpse of. He was elusive and the one time you’d ridden the elevator with him he had flashed a set of baby blues that could drop panties from 50 paces before asking you what floor. You had stammered your response and spent the rest of the ride with your face in your phone hiding your embarrassment.
Tonight, as you crack the window, you feel like the world is crying with you. You had taken Didy to the vet after she had seemed to sleep a lot more lately and wasn’t eating as much. Your longtime veterinarian had walked in with a somber expression that was not her usual demeanor and your stomach had dropped as your worst fears were confirmed. Your constant companion of the last fifteen years was dying and there was nothing you could do. The sweet pup who had seen you through so much in life, broken hearts, a new city, job changes, everything, probably wouldn’t last the night. You nodded as tears streamed down your face and took Didy home for one last night together.
You heard a gentle “reow” as Alpine jumped through the window and cuddled up beside Didy. You petted her and explained the situation while bawling yet again. Alpine turned and licked Didy’s cheek as if understanding everything. You sat beside them, petting them both and telling Didy how much you love her. Alpine purred as she lay with her dying friend and you knew that somehow the sweet cat did understand.
“Alpine!” the call came from your neighbor but, unlike every time before, Alpine stayed put. Her head turned to the window for a long moment and then she nestled in beside Didy for a nap. His voice called her name several more times and even though you felt bad for him, you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave them.
Forty-five minutes later, there is a knock on your door. You keep one eye on Didy as you answer it and are not surprised when your neighbor is on the other side.
“Hey. I’m Bucky. I live on the fourth floor. This is kind of awkward but I thought I’ve seen my cat come out your window before and she hasn’t come home. Have you seen a white cat? Her name is-”
“Alpine. Yeah, she’s here. I’m sorry I heard you calling but I didn’t want to leave-” your voice broke and the tears started again. You covered your face for a second to gather yourself before continuing, “Sorry, um, your cat has befriended my dog. She comes and hangs out with him every evening until you call for her. Um, but, we got some bad news today and Didy, my- my dog, probably won’t make it through the night. I’m sorry, please come in. I don’t mean to keep you out in the hall while I bawl in front of you trying to explain.”
“That’s okay, doll. If you need her to stay, I understand,” Bucky says softly.
“Really, please,” you back away from the door and wave him in. You tell him your name as he follows you to the couch where you sit next to Didy and Alpine.
“So, uh, how did this happen?” Bucky asks as he looks at the two curled up together.
“About eight months ago, Alpine showed up and just sat by the window watching him,” you say as you pet the sleeping dog, “One day the window was open and she came right in. They’ve been fast friends ever since.”
“I’ve been wondering where she disappears to everyday.”
“Yeah. She, um, she seems to understand what’s happening and doesn’t want to leave him. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Gotta ask, though, doll. You always invite strange men that show up at your door into your apartment?”
“Your Alpine’s owner. She’s a pretty good judge of character,” you smile at the cat who is sleeping peacefully.
“That’s true.”
“She gave me very clear advice about my last boyfriend,” you chuckle at the memory.
“You gotta tell me,” Bucky grins.
“He came by for a visit and she was hissing at him everytime he got near me, her, or Didy. Which made Didy start barking every time. That was strike one. Then he turned to me and said how he hated animals. Strike two. Then he went on to say that if we move in together I’d have to get rid of them. Strike three. Threw him out immediately. And then ate all of the pork dumplings and Thai food we’d ordered by myself. Well, they might have helped me eat some of the drunken noodles.”
Bucky was chuckling as you told the story. You turned back to look at Didy and your face fell, knowing how little time you had left with him. Seeing your sad face, Bucky stood up saying, “I’m gonna go grab Alpine’s food. Do you mind if I come back in a bit?”
“Yeah, of course. Feel free to just come in. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
“Don’t you dare. This is a dangerous city, doll. Lock it behind me and I’ll knock when I get back.’
“Okay,” you smile at his sweet chivalry.
Thirty minutes later, Bucky knocks. You open the door to find him holding a cat bowl, cat food, a bag full of Thai food, and another bag filled with several types of treats.
“What’s all this?” you ask, surprised.
“Food for Alpine, food for us, and some sweets. Oh, and a treat for Didy.”
“That’s so nice of you. You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. Plus, if you’re anything like Alpine you get cranky when you don’t eat.”
“It’s like you know me already.”
Bucky stays on the couch with you through the night. He makes sure you eat something, tells you stories about Alpine, asks questions about you and Didy, and consoles you when Didy crosses the rainbow bridge around 3 in the morning.
Over the next couple of weeks, Bucky and Alpine visit every day. Often with food. The two of you talk, learn more about each other, laugh, watch movies, and just enjoy the building of a friendship. Of course, you also develop a massive crush on the gorgeous man. The first night they don't show up at your apartment, you knock on their door with a pizza.
"Hey! I have this large pizza and I was thinking you could help me eat it," you smile but then notice the blond man standing behind him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had company."
"You must be the neighbor he's been going on about. I'm Steve. This jerk's best friend," he smiles broadly at you while Bucky's cheeks turn pink.
"Hi. If it was good things, then yes, definitely me," you wink at Bucky.
"All good things. He's pretty enamored with you," Steve smirks.
"You're such a punk," Bucky growls. "Come on in, Doll."
You grin as you start to walk past him but pause long enough to whisper in his ear, "The feeling's mutual."
Bucky finally did ask for that date after Steve left for the night. You dated for six months before moving in together. A year after that, Bucky proposed with the help of Alpine and an adorable rescue puppy that you named Ambrosius.
And Didy smiled down on you as he watched from across the rainbow bridge, knowing that he had held on long enough to bring you the love of your life.
Twisting the knife 🔪
Pretty flowers for a lovely boy
Flower Bouquet
Summary: You buy him flowers.
Word count: 1811 Words
Warnings: No one.
Bucky Barnes X Reader
You walk into the flower shop, your footsteps quiet on the polished floor. The moment you open the door, a wave of floral scents greets you, sweet, fresh and calming. You pause for a second, just to take it all in. Flowers have always held a special place in your heart. They’re simple but full of life, just like the way you feel when you’re with him. Bucky.
You glance down at your phone. It’s been a few months now. Time has flown by, but in the best way. You and Bucky have found a rhythm, a connection that grows deeper each day. He’s no longer the stoic man he once was. Not entirely. And you… you’re no longer the person you were before he came into your life.
A smile tugs at your lips as you begin to peruse the shelves. The roses are beautiful, but not today. Not for him. You want something different, something that suits who he is, not just the conventional symbol of love. Your fingers brush against a bunch of white lilies, their petals delicate and pure, and you stop.
Perfect.
You pick them up carefully, admiring their simplicity. Their fragrance fills your nose, soft but with just enough sweetness to make your heart flutter. You take your time, adding a few sprigs of lavender and a couple of purple irises to the mix. It’s subtle, elegant.. like him. You know he’s not someone who needs grand gestures, but you also know how much he appreciates when people show they care, when they take the time to think of him.
The florist wraps the bouquet in soft tissue paper, tying it with a simple satin ribbon. You thank her, your hands cradling the flowers like they’re something precious, because to you, they are. You’re giving them to him.
When you reach his apartment, the nerves start to settle in. They’re not nerves from doubt, but more from the excitement of wanting to make him feel special. It’s not the first time you’ve gotten him something, but it’s the first time you’ve given him flowers. It feels like a big deal, like you’re taking another step together. You’re not even sure why you decided to do this, maybe just maybe because you saw them at the flower shop and thought of him, or maybe because you just want to see him smile.
You knock on his door and wait, your heart thumping in your chest. A few seconds later, the door opens and there he is. Bucky. Standing in his usual attire, a simple T-shirt, jeans and his leather jacket that fits him perfectly. The way he looks at you, his blue eyes lighting up when he sees you, makes everything inside you settle.
“Hey” he says, his voice warm, low and familiar. His gaze flickers to the bouquet in your hands. “What’s this?” he asks with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.
You grin, a little shy now, but trying to keep your cool. “For you,” you say, holding them out to him. “Just because.”
Bucky blinks, his gaze dropping to the flowers. His metal hand twitches slightly at his side, like he’s not sure if he should take them or not.
“…You got me flowers?” His voice is cautious, like he’s expecting a punchline.
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s usually how this works.”
His brows furrow slightly in surprise, his lips parting as if he’s not sure what to make of this. His hand hesitates before he takes the bouquet from you, fingers brushing against yours for a brief, electric second.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice low but filled with genuine gratitude. “What’s the occasion?”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, though your heart is racing a little. “No occasion. I just thought you’d like them.”
Bucky stares down at the flowers, his expression softening as he takes in their delicate beauty. “They’re beautiful,” he says quietly. “But, uh… I’m not used to getting flowers.”
He looks at it like it’s some kind of unfamiliar artifact, turning it slightly in his hands, inspecting the mix of blue delphiniums, white lilies and a few sprigs of lavender.
“No roses” he murmurs.
“You don’t seem like a roses kind of guy.”
His lips twitch, the closest thing to a smile. “And I seem like a…?”
You shrug. “Delphinium and lavender kind of guy.”
Bucky lets out a small, breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s a first.”
You chuckle, stepping closer to him. “Well, consider it as our first,” you tease. “I figured you could use something to brighten your day.”
You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “So, do I get a ‘thank you’ or are you just gonna stand there looking at them like they’re a bomb?”
He huffs a laugh but looks back down at the bouquet, his fingers tracing one of the petals absentmindedly. His expression softens, something unreadable passing through his eyes.
“I… yeah.” He clears his throat, shifting his weight. “Thank you. I just… no one’s ever given me flowers before.”
You tilt your head. “Never?”
He shakes his head. “Not really something guys like me get.”
You frown slightly. “Well, that’s dumb. Flowers aren’t just for girls. They’re for people you care about.”
Something in his expression changes, something subtle but deep, like he’s trying to process the weight of your words. He looks back down at the bouquet again, then exhales softly, almost like he’s letting himself accept it.
He smiles again, this time with a hint of something vulnerable. He looks up at you, his gaze searching, before he clears his throat. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t really know how to handle this.”
You chuckle softly. “It’s simple, Bucky. You just accept it. No need for a big speech or anything.”
He lifts the bouquet to his nose, inhaling deeply. For a moment, his eyes flutter closed and a quiet sigh escapes him. You watch him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It’s a simple thing, this gift, but you can already tell it means something to him. Maybe it’s not the flowers themselves, but the thought behind them. The fact that you were thinking of him, that you wanted to give him something. You know that his past has made him wary of affection, of kindness, but moments like this show that he's willing to let down his guard just a little more each time.
After a moment, he looks back up at you, his expression softer, more open than before. “Thank you. This... really means a lot to me,” he says, voice thick with something you can’t quite name.
You smile, relieved to see that he’s not rejecting the gesture, but genuinely appreciating it. “I’m glad you like them. I thought they suited you.”
He chuckles, a small, almost awkward sound and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m just not used to this. People... doing nice things for me, just because.”
You tilt your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “Well, you deserve it. You deserve to be treated well. And these” you gesture to the bouquet “are just a small way of showing you that.”
Bucky’s eyes soften and you notice the way he’s looking at you, like he’s seeing you in a new light. “You’re something else,” he murmurs, his voice full of awe, like he’s trying to process it all. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
Your heart skips a beat and for a second, you don’t know what to say. You just stand there, looking at each other, a thousand unspoken words hanging between you. The vulnerability in his voice, the warmth in his eyes… it makes your chest ache in the best way.
“Well” you say, your voice teasing to break the tension. “Now that I’ve made you blush, I’ll take my leave.” You make a move toward the door, but before you can step past him, Bucky grabs your wrist gently.
“Wait” he says, his voice a little rougher than usual. “I want to thank you properly.” He pulls you back toward him, not forcefully, just enough to close the distance between you. His eyes search yours and before you can even react, he steps closer, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.
You freeze for a second, your breath catching. He pulls away slowly and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You glance at the flowers in his hands again, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you.
“You didn’t have to do that” you murmur, though you know it’s a lie.
“I wanted to” he says quietly, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. “You don’t know how much this means to me. You’re making me believe in things I didn’t think I could anymore.”
You look up at him, your heart full. “I’m glad,” you whisper.
“Come inside” he says after a moment, stepping back to let you in.
You follow him in, watching as he moves toward the kitchen, still holding the bouquet with a sort of hesitant reverence. He sets them down on the counter, staring at them for a second before glancing at you.
“So… what do I do with them?”
You snort. “You put them in water, grandpa.”
He glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I know that.” He pulls a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water before placing the flowers inside. It’s not the best makeshift vase, but it works. He stares at them for a long moment, then, almost absently, lifts one of the lavender sprigs and twirls it between his fingers.
“They smell nice,” he mutters.
You smile. “Yeah. Figured you’d like that.”
Bucky’s quiet for a second before he leans against the counter, looking at you with something unreadable in his expression. “You really just… got these for me? No reason?”
You shrug. “Do I need a reason?”
He shakes his head slowly, his thumb brushing over the lavender again. “No. I guess not.”
There’s something raw in his voice, something that makes your chest tighten. You don’t push, don’t press him to say anything more. Instead, you just step closer, resting your hip against the counter beside him.
Bucky exhales, running a hand through his hair before giving you a sideways glance. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”
You smirk. “I get that a lot.”
He huffs another soft laugh, then looks back at the flowers, something warm settling into his expression. “I like ‘em,” he admits, voice softer now.
Your chest warms. “Good.”
And as he stands there, quietly admiring the simple gift, you realize that this, this quiet, unspoken moment, is exactly why you brought them in the first place.
Loving how they used the comic design for the new red star ⭐
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