Cant Wait For The Next One!! Xx

cant wait for the next one!! xx

Encounters (Masterlist)

~ In progress ~

Summary: When Bucky starts to relapse into the Winter Soldier, he breaks up with you to keep you safe. But the Winter Soldier keeps coming back to you. 

Encounter 1:

Summary: Your first (violent) encounter with the Winter Soldier has Bucky scared for your safety. 

just finished my mid-term exam and YOU make me cry reading this 😭😭

after all these years.

silence lingers, the kind that could only live between two people who have known each other so intimately.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: soft angst, exes to maybe-lovers. ambiguous ending

writer’s note: the lovely hera {@doll1917} was the first person to send me a prompt for bucky’s birthday, so thank you angel! <3 as always, i’m late but writer’s block has been winning most days. hopefully this isn’t too terrible x

For one fleeting moment, he thinks he’s fallen from the edge.

The sound of your soft, wistful voice is reminiscent of what he assumes to be the euphony of a self-imposed haven. It controls him — so much power you wield, yet remain unaware. How one word has him forgetting the bottle beside him, eyes transfixed on your presence as you move closer.

“You never did like parties.”

Smiling, gentle and kind, the heel of your shoes reverberates the metal; climbing the balcony before your legs hang over.

New York never stops — the infamous city that never sleeps. But Bucky’s tired; his gaze unwavering as he stares, too scared to blink in case you’d disappear like the shouting taxi drivers below.

“You’re here,” he breathes; letting go of the strain in his neck as his shoulders drop.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” It’s simple. Too casual, and yet, too acquainting.

Bucky’s fingers twitch, itching for the alcohol that’ll burn his throat — maybe it’ll convince him that you’re actually here.

A vulnerable emotion, all too familiar, flickers across your features; eyebrow tense as you pick at the fabric of your shirt. There’s a chill in the air as the season continues to transition, and he watches as goosebumps raise along your exposed skin.

“Here,” his voice is light; devoid of the harsh bite you’d become accustomed to. “Take this.”

Warmth envelops you, the wool of his jacket a comfort as it wraps around your body. The musk of his cologne placates you; bergamot and orange filling your lungs like an oxygen tank — clear and strong as it settles your frayed nerves.

“I have something for you,” you pause. “Well, found something, really.”

As your hands fiddle with a jean pocket, his eyes widen at the appearance of an emerald green box. There’s an overwhelming pounding in his ears; heartbeat racing as he’s confronted.

The implication is heavy in the way your eyes glaze over sadly, holding it toward him as you silently beg for him to take it from you.

He does.

“It didn’t feel right keeping it,” you swallow. “I hadn’t even realise you’d left it.”

Inside, is a silver band; a delicate floral filigree that leads to an understated sapphire — his Mother’s wedding ring.

Bucky knew he hadn’t taken it the night he ended your relationship; convincing himself it was an incentive for a life the two of you could have. If he could get better — be better — because if he did that, then he could return; get down on one knee with the promise of forever.

A pit lodges itself in his stomach, the guilt a calamity as he gazes at you; full of understanding, even as it tries to mask the hurt. “You could’ve,” he murmurs. “I’d have come back for it someday.”

“I know.” The smile you give is rueful; an infinite amount of hidden meanings behind it as you choose your next words carefully. “But I wouldn’t have been there when you did.”

Only, Bucky can’t accept them as they tumble from your mouth, like they upset him more than they ever could you. “What are you saying?”

“I’m moving,” you say; irises suddenly unable to meet his. “To London.”

He swears. “You’re leaving?” And though you nod, he still shakes his head. “Why?”

“Because there’s nothing left for me here.”

Another pause. He’s selfish; palms begging to pull you close, to not make the mistake of letting you go again. “But you love Brooklyn.”

The tilt of your mouth is pensive, a secret on the tip of your tongue waiting to be spilled. “Bucky,” you hesitate. “You were Brooklyn.”

Those three words shatter something inside of him, the last piece of his horribly bandaged heart as it fractures on the floor of his rib cage.

Regret isn’t unknown to him — it’s a sealing wax on his emotions, one that stays no matter how much he tries to burn it away. It seeps into every line and crevice, taking up residency even as he tries to evict it.

Steve had once told him that the things the Winter Soldier had done wasn’t him — wasn’t Bucky — and yet, he held onto the remorse for years to come.

Eventually, he would begin to agree, rationalise and understand. Which was why the guilt came tenfold when he looked at you. Because that had been his decision, one of clear mind as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek with a murmured goodbye.

“You’re overthinking.” Your hand is warm, affectionate as it touches his thigh and pulls him back from the abyss his mind provides. “Can practically hear those thoughts churning.”

“Do you think you’ll ever come back?” He asks, bright cerulean glimmering at you with tender yearning.

“I’m not sure. Maybe.” You’ve always been honest, almost to a fault. It was one of the reasons that attracted Bucky to you — your tenacity, your wit. The way you were unwilling to compromise when it came to your heart.

It reminded him of someone he once knew.

He knows it must be written across his face, the question — will you stay? If he asked, would you? But he knows the answer from the way you bite your lip, brows furrowed; a line appearing between them.

Before he can stop himself, his hand brushes along your cheekbone; tracing your nose as his thumb erases the worry. The slight movement of a shiver isn’t lost on him, and Bucky presses closer to you; knees bumping as the faintest scent of whiskey greets you.

“What if I came with you?”

It’s a scenario you’ve thought of a thousand times. A wonder you weren’t sure you were allowed to have. The past months have been blurry — days blending together, dates being non-existent.

Life without Bucky had been an unexpected adjustment. Your one constant had suddenly disappeared almost without notice, and you spent the last thought of each night, with the hope that the next morning he’d be at your door.

Except that day had never come. And you relented. Giving up that wayward dream until you’d woken up to a message from Sam — an invitation, your only attempt to offer your own goodbye.

But those cerulean blues have you damned. You’d already accept the lifetime rate — what’s an eternity?

“I couldn’t ask you to give this up, Buck.” You’re shaking your head, unable to meet his stare.

As long as you’d known him — too many years to be exact — the fight was always priority. The need to show himself worthy, to wipe the red in his ledger.

“So don’t,” he reasons; calloused hands resting against your jaw. “Let me prove myself, let me make up for all the time we’ve lost.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you hate the way his voice breaks; emotions unfiltered as his forehead rests against yours. It’s tender, familiar. Calms your rapid breathing as you ground yourself to the moment.

“I’m scared.” 

Fuck, he knows it. Feels it too. But you’d unknowingly opened the possibility of a second chance, and he wasn’t fucking that up.

“Me too,” he assures you, letting you know that he wasn’t pretending it’d be easy. “I thought when I left that I was doing right by you, god, you deserved better. Still do.”

You pull away from him, not looking away as you reach your hands to hold his; intertwining them as you speak, “No one can decide what’s meant for another person. If it did, then I’d have walked away earlier than you.” The disbelieving frown he gives makes you chuckle. “Buck, you’re one of the best people I know. You’re so good, so fucking good that it makes my heart ache that you don’t see it. Most of our relationship was spent with me anxious of the thought that I would never be enough for you.”

“You are,” he interjects; squeezing your fingers in kind. From the warmth that fills his cheeks, he knows he’s flushing pink; waiting as your head tilts slightly at the way his teeth knock together from how quickly he gives you the declaration.

A small smile appears, one that he returns as you agree, “Just like you are, for me.” The sincerity in your tone nearly catches him off-guard, if it wasn’t for the fact he had sounded the same.

Silence lingers, the kind that could only live between two people who have known each other so intimately. The type that sends a pulse through his chest as the illuminating lanterns reflect in your knowing eyes.

“Happy birthday, Bucky.”

His thumb soothes the back of your hand, an alleviating sense of peace lulling his movements as you lean against his side. “Here’s to many more.”

The together goes unheard.

end note: i’m a little rusty considering it’s been a while since i last wrote but hopefully this was okayish lol. thank you so much for reading <3

masterlist ✧ ko-fi ✧ library

SEBASTIAN STAN ‘Pam & Tommy’ Season Finale Premiere

Here's to another sexy villain that will make me question my morals

Shower Me in Praise

Summary: Bucky knows what you need after a long week without him.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral fem rec, size kink, praise kink, Bucky is 6'4"

A/n: requested.

Rivulets of hot water rain down on your back, a thick mist clouding the glass surrounding the shower. This is what you needed after a busy day, the heat soothes your aching muscles. Resting your head on the cool shower wall, your arms dangle by your sides and you relax for the first time in days.

It’s been such an exhausting day and you’ve been looking forward to finally getting to spend time at home. Just you and Bucky. The couch, an old worn knitted blanket, and whatever movie is on tonight. Wine, cheap, greasy takeout, and passionate sex on the living room rug before the credits have a chance to roll across the screen.

But first, you need to let the stress of the real world fade away. You’re nearly done with your shower when you hear the soft click of the door opening.

“Hey Bunny.” Your head cants back at the sound of his raspy deep voice, your body instinctively responding to him. Glancing over your shoulder, the water pours down your face as you watch him through the foggy glass. “Missed you.” The longing in his tone makes your chest tighten. You’ve missed him too, more than words can express.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you respond with a smile, turning around to get a better look at him. He’s handsome, a shadow of a beard forming on his sharp jaw, his pink bottom lip caught between his teeth as he eyes you through the glass. Bucky leans against the sink, tapping his fingers on the surface. 

Keep reading

DO IT!!! I BEG YOUU

nick AND the ws you say? idc if its their dick or gun barrel im getting i will take whatever they give WHEREVER they want bc🤤

Mildly NSFW thots below. Some CNC because it's my thing.

Okay but being pinned down by Buckys metal arm while Nick drags the smooth, cool barrel down your belly... you look up to see the soldiers face obscured by the black mask, cold dark eyes daring you to move. The dark glint flashing in his stormy blues tells you that he loves a good fight.

Nick continues his exploration of your body, tapping the gun along your thighs until he reaches the part of you that betrays how you really feel.

"You keep saying you don't want this-want us-yet you're dripping all over his gun. By the time I'm done with you, I'll have you begging for my cock. But until then." Nick nods at the silent man above you. "Keep her lying little mouth shut."

Future fic idea??? I think im going to do it😂