#preciousbarnes fics
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Languages of Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky and you are complete opposites in day to day life. You’re a local florist, surrounded by plants and soft colors. Bucky is grumpy and rough around the edges. At nights together, his softer side shows, whispering sweet nothings to you that you love but never understand.
Word count: 1.7k
Tags: smut, first time, soft sex, fluff, bit of a language barrier, grumpy!bucky x literal sunshine, florist!reader.
You first really noticed it the first night you slept in the same bed together. It was innocent, you and Bucky were taking your time in the relationship, but you asked him to stay the night at your apartment above your little florist shop since it was storming so horribly outside after your dinner date with him.
You both got ready for bed, Bucky stripping down to just his boxers and you changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You both climbed into bed, you shyly staying to your side of the bed until you felt Bucky’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You let out a little squeak in surprise, causing Bucky to give a resulting deep chuckle. You laid in his arms, nuzzling yourself close to him as you entangled your legs with his, enjoying the contrast of his furnace like body heat, and the coolness of his metal arm. You laid there silently for the longest time, trading gentle and soothing pets.
That’s when Bucky softly started talking to you in a language you didn’t understand.
“Ya ne znayu, chem ya zasluzhil eto, no ya tak blagodaren” He mutters to you in Russian, gently running his fingers through your hair. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m so grateful.
You look at his face, taking in the soft and heartfelt expression. You had no clue what he had just said, but judging by his face you were certain it was something sweet. You gently pecked his lips, making his little smile grow. You both fell asleep in each other arms that night, feeling like your hearts were so full of affection and love.
The second time it happened was in a more heated moment. It was your first time. Your first time ever, and his first time with you. You were both laying in the middle of your bed under the soft sheets, lights dimmed in the room with soft jazz playing in the background. You were naked, and Bucky remained in his boxers, his cock straining against the fabric, forgotten. He had taken out all the stops, wanting to make your first time so special, feeling so honored to be your first. He had gently worked you open with his fingers and mouth, whispering sweet nothings in English between your legs.
“You’re doing so good doll, opening up for me so prettily.”
“Look at you, darling. So fucking gorgeous.”
“Can't wait to be inside of you, sweetheart. Going to make you feel so, so good baby,”
After plenty of foreplay, he raised up, leaving you soaked and a pleading mess for him.
“Please, Bucky. Please, I want you, please.” You gently begged, barely recognizing your own voice, already so wrecked.
“Are you sure, moya lyubov'?” He asks you, wanting to be certain that this is something you want. My love.
You nod your head, hand coming up to gently caress his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath your fingertips, a stark and rough contrast to the soft expression on his face, one full of love and utter adoration.
He stripped off his boxers, tossing them off the side of the bed. You let your eyes trail down from his face, down his chest and chiseled abs, to his dick. It was flushed, bobbing a bit from a twitch. The length and girth had your mouth watering, just imagining how much better than just fingers that would feel, how full and absolutely stuffed it would make you feel. His head glistened in the soft light, wet from precum that had leaked out, showing you just how thoroughly he enjoyed the foreplay as well.
You reached down, grasping him in your hand, making him suck in a breath at the touch. You gently and slowly pumped your fist, using your thumb to gather the precum beaded at the head and move it down his shaft. As you pleasured him, you looked up to see his face overcome with pleasure, soft groans leaving his lips. Fire stirred in your gut with the realization that you were making him feel that way. Something possessive swirled in you as well, not wanting anyone to ever see this side of him again, wanting the sight to be yours and yours alone.
After a few moments, you were paused by his hand coming down to grasp your wrist.
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last if you keep touching me like this,” He says roughly, his voice taking on a gravelly tone, overtaken with the pleasure you were bringing him.
You smile, proud of yourself which makes him smirk and chuckle. He removes his hand from your wrist, taking himself in his hand to line himself up. He slowly pushes in, filling you to the brim. Your back arches off the bed, a moan being ripped from your throat. Once he's in you to the hilt, his head drops to your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips. He’s overwhelmed with pleasure, never knowing it was possible for it to feel this good. You’re so warm, so tight, your velvety walls gripping him just right.
He begins thrusting, slow and sensual but strong thrusts hitting just the right spot. Your nails rake down his back, legs coming up to wrap around his hips, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.
That’s when you hear it. That soft, deep voice muttering words to you that you don’t understand, slipping into what you now know is Russian.
“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, detka.” You feel so good, baby.
“Ty kak budto sozdana dlya menya.” It’s like you were made for me.
“Zakhvatyvayushchiy,” Breathtaking.
“U tebya yest' ves' ya, telo i dusha.” You have all of me, body and soul.
He keeps muttering soft phrases and words against your skin that night, cherishing you in a way you never knew someone could. It's the contrast between the sharp thrusts and gentle hands and words that send you over the edge in the end, vision going white as you pull him over the ledge with you into absolute bliss.
After you both are sated and content, laying in each other's arms, he mutters one more phrase as he gently kisses the place where your jaw meets your throat.
“Ya tebya lyublyu” he says worshipfully, almost like a prayer leaving his lips.
You normally just smile at the sweet words you don’t understand, giving his kisses or hugs in response. This phrase though, it felt important to know, so you ask.
He looks at you like you hold the answer to all the universes questions, bringing his hand up to run his thumb against your cheekbone so softly you barely feel it.
“I love you,” he tells you, easily but so full of conviction.
A smile breaks across your face, as you return those three little words to him.
The next time you hear the language slip from his lips was when a recruit got a little to close, not knowing you were there at the training compound to see your boyfriend.
“Ne trogay yeye” He spat out, roughly grabbing the hand the recruit had reached out in goals of touching your arm. Don’t touch her. He was shooting daggers with his eyes at the recruit, who was now backing away, stuttering out an apology before quickly walking away.
The look on his face was reminiscent of a cartoon grumpy bear, making you giggle gently which led him to look over to you, a confused look on his face with the remnants of a scowl still there.
You reached up on your tip toes to kiss him gently on the lips, replacing the scowl with a dopey smile. In the background you could hear Steve’s chuckle at the lovestruck look on his best friends face as you grabbed his hand, leading him out to your car as you told him about the new shipment of flowers you just got in that you wanted to show him.
You found yourself in your floral shop with Natasha, her helping you with organizing order forms as you got out supplies to make another arrangement.
“Hey Nat, you’re fluent in Russian, right?” You ask the agent, earning a smile from her and a soft “Da.” Yes.
“You’ve been around when Bucky says stuff to me, right?”
She nods and smiles again, seeing where this is going.
“You want to know what he says?” She asks, filing away the orders and turning her full attention to you.
“Yeah, I always want to ask, but he has this look on his face. This soft expression. Like how people look at baby kittens. It makes me feel so cherished. I don’t ever want to ruin the moment,” You explain, hoping she understands.
She laughs at your comparison to Bucky’s face to how people look at kittens.
“Yknow, if I heard anyone else say Bucky looks at something how people look at baby anything, at one time I would’ve thought they had lost their mind. But yeah, that’s how he looks at you sometimes. He worships you, honey. Most of the time, when I’ve been around and he’s spoken to you in the language, he’s telling you that you're his whole world, that he feels so lucky to have found you, that he feels blessed, that you’re his angel, that he is yours completely, just really soft shit. He loves you.” She tells you, making your heart swell.
“Well,” you begin, “can you help me with something for him?” you ask.
Later that night you both found yourselves curled up together on the couch of your now shared apartment above your floral shop, Bucky playing with your hair as your hand gently strokes up and down one of the arms wrapped around you as you listen to his heartbeat with your head rested on his chest.
That’s when you say it.
“Ya beskonechno lyublyu tebya” you tell him, hoping you got the pronunciation right. Based on the shocked look on his face, followed by a wide smile stretching across his face, you’re assuming you did well enough for him to have understood. I love you to the moon and back.
“I love you too doll, to all the planets and beyond and back” He tells you, pulling you in for a soft kiss.
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#preciousbarnes fics#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes one shot#winter soldier fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x y/n
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༄ ༄༄ SUMMER FIC RECS ༄༄༄
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༄ These are some of the most captivating stories from June, July, August.
༄ All blogs and daydreams listed below are 18+
༄ You are responsible for the media you consume
༄ Whenever you reblog a fic, you are sending flowers to the writer
Bucky Barnes
The Dreadful Need In The Devotee @jamalflanagan
Fleece Navidad @the-omni-princess
Come Wind Me Up @/slyyywriting
On Bended Knees @^
Hat, Scarf and Mittens @/writing-for-marvel
He’s Hazardous To My Health [1,2,3,4,5,6,7] @^
You look cold.” + Can we just cuddle all day? @^
Breakable @/syntheticavenger
Midnight City - Mirror ^syntheticavenger
A Hopeful Tale @justagirlinafandomworld
Dirty Little Secret @vellicore
Promises @preciousbarnes
Dangerous @onceuponastory
Tension @sebstanwhore
Bucky Barnes and the Summer Soldier @ramp-it-up
Desperate @buckets-and-trees
Sunset [1] @/targaryenvampireslayer
Wrong Number @^targaryenvampireslayer
On My Mind @^
Waiting a Little Longer @navybrat817
When We First Met @^
Stalked ^
A New Beginning ^
Where We Left Off @^
Easy Target @jobean12-blog
Dark Desires @/jobean12-blog
Hide & Seek @angrythingstarlight
Hide & Seek Drabble @/angrythingstarlight
Bucky’s Goats @/angrythingstarlight
Need To Know @/angrythingstarlight
Enchanted @/angrythingstarlight
Mafia!Bucky (Bumblebee) [1,2,3,] @/angrythingstarlight
Steve Rogers
Brave [1 , 2] @boxofbonesfic
Escape @golden-ariess
My Girl @jadedvibes
Painting Every Color For You @galatially
The Sweetest Thing @/wint3r-h3art
At Your Service [2] @/writing-for-marvel
Stucky
In Our Element @lunarbuck
Under Covers @sagechanoafterdark
Sam Wilson
Touch Me @galatially
Love Like A Wound [2] @targaryenvampireslayer
Dancing's When I Think Of You ^targaryenvampireslayer
Contentment @fluffyprettykitty
Doctor Strange
More Than You Bargain For @/wint3r-h3art
Miguel O'Hara
Apotheosis @wint3r-h3art
Thor
Changed Places @geminixevans-stan
Due Diligence @/boxofbonesfic
The Land of Milk and Honey @^
Loki
Mad at Me @/wint3r-h3art
Ransom Drysdale
Graining @slyyywriting
Ari Levinson
Biker!Ari drabble [1 2] @/angrythingstarlight
Lloyd Hansen
Sub!Lloyd drabble @littlelioncub43
Andy Barber
Ticking Clock [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,8, 9,10,11,12,13, ] @syntheticavenger
If I Can’t Have Everything, Then Let Me Just Have You /writing-for-marvel
Never Tear Us Apart ^
You know I don’t like to be teased ^
Good Stuff @avintagekiss24
Supernova /syntheticavenger
Joel Miller
Kinktober Day 22: Thigh Riding @flightlessangelwings
His to Protect ^/jobean12-blog
Tommy Miller
Of the Same Feather @shadeysprings
Din Djarin
Mando M.C. @flightlessangelwings
Aemond Targaryen
The Handmaid’s Dilemma @all-that-glitters-is-goldfish
Santiago Garcia
Truth or Dare @holacia3
#fic rec 💐#bucky barnes x reader#santiago garcia x reader#steve rogers x reader#fic recs#din djarin x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#joel miller x reader#ari levison x reader#andy barber x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#stucky x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#doctor strange x reader#sam wilson x reader#tommy miller x reader#thor x reader
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These are all the fics l've read in April. Please go show all these amazing writers some much deserved love! Also please remember to read the warnings for each individual fic
🔥 - smut | 💗 - fluff | 💧 - angst | 😈 - dark
Dividers by @saradika
Bucky Barnes
💧💗 My Little Love (series) by @crazyunsexycool
🔥 Grind With Me by @caplanbuckybarnes
💗 Biker!Bucky x Tattooed!Reader by @fandoms-writings
💗 Sticky Notes by @/fandoms-writings
💗 American Booty by @mindingmyownbusiness
💧💗 Bucky + nap by @targaryenvampireslayer
🔥 Hide and Seek by @/targaryenvampireslayer
💧💗 Simplicity by @illicitfixations
😈 Bucky x Runaway Bride by @angrythingstarlight
💧💗 My Girl by @girl-next-door-writes
💧💗 Bandaged with Love by @jobean12-blog
💧💗 Chasing Love by @/jobean12-blog
💧💗 Save Me From Myself by @babydollhargreeves
💧💗 By Your Side by @preciousbarnes
🔥 Cockwarming by @bucky-barnes-diaries
💧💗 bucky comforts you after you have a panic attack by @lunarbuck
💗 Bad Day by @/lunarbuck
💗 Love Sick Puppy by @samdeancass
😈🔥 SALT by @buckets-and-trees
💗 Be My Muse by @themorningsunshine
🔥 Patience by @bellasburdens
💧💗 Move On by @sunshine-on-my-mind
Steve Rogers
💗 Confessions by @our-marvel-universe
💗 No Place Like Home by @mellowsaturns
🔥 Need You Now by @1-800-jjbarnes
🔥 Just a Taste by @/1-800-jjbarnes
💗 Period Camps by @espinosaurusrexex
🔥💗 Golden Hour by @buckymorelikefuckme
💗 Love On The First Splash by @rogerswifesblog
Sam Wilson
💧💗🔥 The Real America’s Ass by @hannibals-favourite-meal
💧💗 Sleep No More by @/caplanbuckybarnes
💧💗 Sad!? On Your B-Day? by @bigbadripley
Augustus Pugliese
💗 augustus "pug" pugliese x gn!reader (fluff) by @rodrikstark
Ari Levsinson
🔥 Kiss Me Through the Phone by @sidepartskinnyjeans
💧💗🔥😈 After Hours by @flordeamatista
💗🔥 Easy, Baby by @cevansbrat0007
Andy Barber
💗🔥 Sundaze by @sunshinebuckybarnes
🔥 Come on Over by @/sunshinebuckybarnes
💗 Hold My Heart by @/flordeamatista
💗 Down to Business by @navybrat817
Ransom Drysdale
💧 Come On Down by @intrepidacious
Nick Fowler
💧🔥 Kiss It Better by @late-to-the-party-81
Joel Miller
🔥 Joel Miller x reader by @holacia3
🔥💗 Interrupted by @/holacia3
Multiple Characters
😈🔥 Never Ending Nightmare by @/late-to-the-party-81 [Ransom Drysdale + Ari Levinson]
💗 Prelude to a Kiss by @/navybrat817 [Bucky Barnes + Steve Rogers]
#reading list#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#Steve Rogers#steve rogers fanfic#Sam wilson#sam wilson fanfic#augustus pugliese#Augustus Pugliese fanfic#ari levinson#ari levinson fanfic#Andy barber#andy barber fanfic#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale fanfic#nick fowler#Nick Fowler fanfic#joel miller#Joel miller fanfic
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SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Week 165 & 166
Welcome to Weeks 165 & 166
A/N: Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 50 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.
As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜
Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.
Click HERE for past reading lists.
For my Masterlist click HERE
Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.
Page-break by @whimsicalrogers
Header by @fictional-affairs
If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.
I love you 3000 💜 Missy
Beg - (Brock Rumlow x Reader) - @/saiyanprincessswanie
Andy Oneshot - @navybrat817
Bucky Oneshot - @angrythingstarlight
The Best Thing to Ever Happen - (Lee x Reader) - @andydrysdalerogers
Drabble Breeding kink - @joannaliceevans-fanficblog
WOUNDED - (Bucky x Reader) - @likeahorribledream
Ride the Lightning - (Thor x Reader) - @wint3r-h3art
Andy Oneshot - @syntheticavenger
Clairvoyance Avengers Fiction Part 6! - @talia-rumlow
Clairvoyance Avengers Fiction Part 7! - @/talia-rumlow
A Solid Foundation - (Bucky x Reader) - @writing-for-marvel
Happy Beans - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne
a fair punishment - (Steve x Reader) - @witchywithwhiskey
Bucky Oneshot - @writerlyhabits
sex and sage flowers - (Bucky x Reader) - @bucky-bucket-barnes
Bucky x G/N Reader Oneshot - @fluffyprettykitty
petrichor - (Bucky x Reader) - @thornsnvultures
distracted - (Bucky x Reader) - @sunshinebuckybarnes
Last First Kiss - (Bucky x WOC!Reader) - @jadedvibes
Try Me - (Lloyd x Reader) - @labella420
Yellow Slide - (Bucky × reader with neurodivergent) - @drabblewithfrannybarnes
Collared part 19 - @spnexploration
Collared part 20 - @/spnexploration
3 Billion Divorce - Part 6 - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival
Fresh Fallen Snow, Part 7 - (Curtis x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513
Hands off - Part 6 - (Stucky x Reader) - @darsynia
But The Flesh Is Always Weak - (Andy x Reader) - @cockslutpadalecki
Promises Part ⅓ - (Bucky x Reader) - @preciousbarnes
Special Girl - (Stucky) - @/rookthorne
Neighborhood watch - (Stucky x Reader) - @holylulusworld
Bucky Headcanon - @writerlyhabits
pansies, pain, and other things about bucky - (Bucky x Reader) - @bucky-bucket-barnes
Cheesy Romance - (Loki x Reader) - @theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
FASHION SHOW - (Steve x Reader) - @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters
My Skin On Yours - (Nick x Reader) - @flordeamatista
And baby makes three - (Lee x Reader) - @boxofbonesfic
A splash of courage - (Bucky x Reader) - @biteofcherry
Ready or Not - (Steve x Reader) - @labella420
Beard burn - (Steve x Reader) - @donutloverxo
Of Service - (Ari x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18
Juxtaposition - (Bucky x Reader) - @tuiccim
Your Friend, Yenzy (2/?) - (Jake x Reader) - @/drabblewithfrannybarnes
Sanction - (Lloyd x Reader) - @/labella420
Crossing the line - (Bucky x Reader) - @nicoline1998enilocin
His Inheritance - Part 23 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18
Incandescent - (Steve x Reader x Bucky) - @navybrat817
Stuffed animals - @nekoannie-chan
know how to share - (Steve x Reader x Bucky) - @witchywithwhiskey
Say My Name - (Bucky x Reader) - @jadedvibes
Better Than Before - (Bucky x Reader) - @angrythingstarlight
#saiyanprincessswanie#recommended reading#missy reads#missy reblogs#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#brock rumlow x reader#andy barber x reader#lee bodecker x reader#thor x reader#lloyd hansen x reader#curtis everett x reader#stucky x reader#loki x reader#nick fowler x reader#ari levinson x reader#jake jensen x reader
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Beginning to revamp/update my tumblr a bit before I make the jump to changing my layout and possibly my username I do just want to touch on something, that has been updated in my navigation already. I am taking a break from writing for Bucky Barnes. And this break will probably be until the end of this year/January of 2024.
Don't get me wrong, still love him and his character and reading fics. I just have had no inspiration to write for him after solely writing for his character for months (on my og tumblr @preciousbarnes ). I'm just hoping branching out from just Bucky will help reignite my passion for writing again :)
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By Your Side
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You get badly injured on a mission, and Bucky doesn't handle it well.
Word Count: 1.7k
Tags: Established Bucky x Reader, Agent!Reader, Explosions, Bodily Injury, Near Death Experience, Hospital Setting
It had been as routine as any mission could be. You, Sam, and Bucky were tasked to break into an old WWII bunker which held files containing information about a weapon that was at risk for resurfacing. The government wanted the files back in their hands before they could fall into someone else’s.
You all stood in the musky smelling dark bunker, everything covered in a thick layer of dust, not seeming to have been touched in decades. You were quickly gathering the old paper files into your backpack, when there was a sudden, persistent beeping to your right.
“Forget to turn off your alarm, agent?” Sam joked, making you and Bucky laugh.
You shook your head, before your eyes widened in realization. You all had let your guard down upon entering the bunker. With all the dust, you never imagined it could have all been staged to look untouched. You all made the mistake of being too comfortable. Too self-assured. And you were about to reap the consequences.
“Bomb!” You yelled, right as the beeping became constant.
Then, a bright flash and deafening boom, as your body was thrown back from the blast. You felt a sharp, searing sensation in your abdomen, overwhelming the pain you felt in the base of your skull. You laid there on the cold concrete floor, disoriented, your vision blurred as you tried desperately to regain your bearings. Looking up you see a dark figure running to your side, a muffled sound of your name being called. Once the figure got closer, you could make out that it was Bucky.
His face, once it was in your vantagepoint, worried you. The usually stoic man on missions with the thousand-yard stare was obviously rattled, his eyes wide, hands ghosting over your form, afraid to touch you, like he was in fear he may hurt you more. Your eyes left his face to follow where he was looking, down at your abdomen, where the burning and constant ache was.
There it was. A metal pipe had pierced you during the explosion, now lodged in your stomach. There was blood pooling around the wound and on the floor under you, unsettlingly warm against the cool concrete. You swallowed dryly, before looking back up to Bucky, who looked utterly lost. That’s when Sam finally came into view. He had some scrapes and already forming bruises, but it was clear that you had taken the worst of the blast, being so close to the bomb.
“We need a medic in here, stat. Does anyone copy?” You heard Sam call through the coms, hearing a quick but dull reply you couldn’t make out respond soon after his order.
“They’re coming as fast as they can. How are you feeling?” Sam asks, kneeling on the other side of you, glancing up to Bucky to gage his condition before returning his focus to you.
“I-I’m cold, and s-so sleepy, Sam” You say hoarsely.
This seems to awaken Bucky, he begins sternly shaking his head, hand coming to firmly grasp yours. He recognized the signs. Cold. Sleepy. Signs of massive blood loss. Possible internal bleeding. Early signs of a fate he didn’t want for you.
“Doll, no, y’gotta stay awake. Stay awake for me, okay?” He says quickly, his metal hand coming up to push the hair out of your face and gently tuck it behind your ear. As he pulls his hand back, he notices his fingertips are coated in blood. Your blood. You had an injury to the back of your skull. His eyes widen at the sight of more of your blood, before he schools his expression back as much as he can, trying to look calm for your benefit, when he feels anything but calm.
“I- I don’t think I can, Buck. I’m so tired,” You tell him softly, before a cough works it's way up your throat, the force of it jarring your body and making you wince in pain.
Tears sprang to Bucky’s eyes as he shook his head once again. He knew what it meant if you went to sleep. He’d seen it play out way too many times on battlefields. You wouldn’t wake back up.
“Please, sweetheart, stay with me.” He pleaded with you, grasping your hand tighter, pulling it up to his lips to kiss gently.
“James,” you began, blinking a few times in effort to stay awake long enough to tell him what you felt compelled to tell him. You weren’t stupid. You knew you were in bad shape, with the likelihood of your survival getting slimmer by each passing moment the medics were taking to get to you.
“I-I love you, James. It’s okay. If I have to go, I’d want it to be like this. D-doing the work I believe in, and getting to be with you. You’ll be okay, Jamie.” You told him, voice shaky.
Tears begin to fall down Bucky’s face as he cries without abandon, shaking his head once again, hair flopping around with the viciousness of the shakes.
“No. You can’t leave me. Not like this. You can't tell me you love me like this. Save it for when you’re better. Not like this.” He begs between sobs.
Sam rises to his feet, calling on the coms that they needed help now, that things were looking grim. Your eyes begin to drift shut on their own accord, unable to keep them open any longer. You begin to fall into what feels like a deep sleep, Bucky’s cries being the last thing you heard, each one breaking your heart.
The first thing you heard was a soft and steady beep, accompanied by the sterile smell that medical facilities always had. You felt the weight of a hand in yours, recognizing the callouses belonging to your boyfriend. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in the soft lighting of the room in the medical bay of the avenger’s compound. Usually it was you siting in Bucky’s place after Bucky did something reckless on a mission. This was the first time things were the other way around. You gently turn your head, wincing at the stiffness in your neck, making you wonder how long you had been out. There he was.
Bucky looked disheveled. His shoulder length hair was tied back in a messy buns, strains sticking out haphazardly all over the place. He was in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt. His head was resting on the side of your bed, head turned to the side, giving you a view of his dark circles and scruff that had grown out longer than he normally allowed it. He looked how your body felt; a wreck.
You gently brought the hand that wasn’t incased in Bucky’s over to his head, gently and soothingly running your fingertips over his face. At the touch, he slowly opened his eyes, his widening upon seeing that you were awake.
“Baby, my god it's so good seeing those eyes again,” He said, voice gruff from lack of use. He had barely spoken since you had fell asleep back at the sight of the blast. He looked so relieved, like he could finally breathe again. If you looked closer, there were some tears gathered in his eyes.
“Hi Jamie,” you said softly, voice also hoarse from lack of use.
Hearing your voice and the nickname, he smiled softly, grabbing a cup of water from the stand by your hospital bed and holding it so you could get a drink. You took a few gulps, thanking him afterwards.
“How are you feeling, doll? Any pain?” He asked you, hand caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch.
You took a moment to survey your body. You could feel the presence of a bandage wrap around your midsection, no doubt covering the wound and incision from the emergency surgery you were sure you had to have. You also noticed the presence of other bandaged dispersed along your limbs, due to smaller cuts and scrapes from the blast. While you were sure you were quite a sight, you didn’t feel any pain.
“No pain, but what’s the damage?” You ask.
“Two cracked ribs, a large gash to the back of your head that went down to your skull, so you’ve got 7 staples back there. The pipe that went through you luckily missed your major organs. They had to do some repairs to your intestines, and they had to remove your appendix that was damaged from the pipe. You’ve got a nasty concussion and some cuts and bruises. You’ve been unconscious for 4 days,” He lists off your injuries from memory.
A silence falls between the both of you. You look down at your hands held in Bucky’s, his thumb gently brushing back and forth on the tops of your hands.
“God, baby. You scared the life out of me,” He says, voice breaking at the end.
“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should’ve been more careful,” You tell him, hating the pain you’ve caused him.
His head jerks up at your apology before he scoffs softly and shakes his head.
“No, doll. I should have been more careful. It's my job to watch your six. I’m so, so, sorry I failed,” He says with a sniffle, trying to hold back tears.
“You didn’t fail. It was made to look untouched, undisturbed for decades. We had no reason to suspect anything. We will be more careful next time, all of us. This was no ones fault,” You tell him sternly, willing him to understand that he is not responsible.
“I thought I was going to lose you, baby. I thought I was losing you without ever telling you I love you,” He whispers.
You smile softly, reaching up to tuck an unrulily strand of hair back behind his ear.
“You can tell me now,” you offer.
“I love you doll. I always have.” He tells you, a reverent tone taking over his voice, overcome with emotions he thought he’d never feel again.
You both lean in and softly kiss. You know the road to full recovery is going to be long, but you would do anything with your Bucky by your side.
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#preciousbarnes fics#marvel fanfiction#the falcon and the winter soldier fanfiction
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Always
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Tensions rise as Bucky continuously seems to throw caution to the wind during missions. Your heart breaks when you learn his true motivations.
Tags: angst, hurt/comfort-ish, arguments, injuries, illusions to violence, anger
Content Warning: Discussions of mental health, depression, and suicidality.
Word Count: 1.8k
There was an eerie silence between you and the man in front of you. You sniffled and hugged yourself as Bucky stood across from you, his chest heaving with residual anger. You feared it was more than just anger, but instead resentment, hatred, rage; All of these all-consuming emotions taking the forefront of Bucky’s mind as he looked at you now, instead of the love and compassion you were once used to. You both stood there, in your pajamas, but feeling anything but comfortable.
The fight had been building up for a while. For the last month, things had been rocky. Bucky had been coming home later and later, missions were longer and increasingly more dangerous, and Bucky’s feelings of self-preservation was severely lacking in your opinion. Tonight he had come home with a collection of injuries; two broken ribs, three gunshot wounds in various states of healing, and gashes on his knuckles and face. His response to your concern? They’ll all be healed up by tomorrow afternoon, probably. That was the phrase that cut to the bone and made you finally say something. Ugly things were said. Accusations were made.
The living room was now in disarray. Things were thrown in frustration and anger, Bucky’s pent-up adrenaline needing an outlet other than just his voice climbing in volume. The room seemed lifeless and colorless, the tealight candles you had set up with the goal of a cozy night in having burned themselves out over the last hour. There was shattered glasses on the floor. A picture of you and Bucky hung crocked on the wall after being shifted by Bucky’s fist. The tv laying face down on the floor after being shoved off the tv stand.
“Just make me understand, James,” You plead, voice broken and barely above a whisper.
“Understand what?” He asks, voice bland and dry. Resigned. It was a tone of voice you weren’t used to hearing directed at you by him. The tone cut through your core like a dull blade.
“Everything, James. You can't win every time, some time it's going to be too close of a call,” You say seething, angered further by his lack of understanding when it came to your concern.
“You have that little faith in me? Think I can't get the job done?” He says with a scoff, followed by a humorless laugh.
“It’s not about the damn job, James. I know you can do your job. It's about you. Your health. Mental, physical, emotional, everything. You put yourself on the line the way the others don’t. You jump into fire without a thought,” You tell him, choking up again, reaching out to him and pleading with your eyes for him to understand. It hurts as he takes a step back from you.
“That’s what I’m paid to do,” Bucky says, shaking his head with a lack of understanding that angers you further.
“No it’s not. You’re paid to help, to advise; not to be a fucking human shield and practically go on suicide missions,” You spit out, full of unbridled rage at his lack of care for himself.
“Tell me this doll,” He begins, running a tired hand over his face, “what do I do when a fellow agent dies on my watch when I could have taken the hit and lived?” He asks with a new softness. Of course, he wants to protect others. It's one of his most noble traits, but it fills you with frustration this time.
You shake your head, muttering that he still doesn't understand the point.
“I might have abnormally good hearing, but I don’t know what you just said,” He says blandly, looking at you imploringly.
“I said, what will I do when you don’t survive? What do I do when the haul your body off the jet in a fucking body bag? What do I do when I have to bury you? When I don’t have you anymore? What do I do then, Bucky?” You ask, heart in your throat, feeling like vomiting just from stating your worst fears out loud.
Bucky blinks at you, jaw slightly open.
“What will I do then, James? Because with your lack of self-preservation, it is not an ‘if’, it is a when.” You ask him softly.
“Doll, I-“ He starts, before you hold up a hand, silently asking him to not continue with what you are sure is another faulty reasoning for his actions.
“Please, James. Just answer this, what if roles were reversed, and you were in my shoes. Waiting for the day I wound up dead because I didn’t care about my own safety?” You ask him.
You watch as he looks down at his hands. He swallows dryly and thinks before he looks up and meets your eyes again.
“I’d be terrified,” He says softly, unspoken apologies in his eyes.
“Exactly. I am filled with dread and fear nearly every day.” Honesty is now pouring out of you without stopping, the flood gates now wide open.
There's another pause. You reach up to wipe away the leftover tears on your cheek. Bucky gingerly steps forward, hands reaching out to you and softly landing on your hips as he holds you at arms length.
“I can’t quit,” He says quietly.
You immediately shake your head hard, hands reaching up to hold his face.
“Bucky, you love what you do, and I love that for you. I’m not asking that of you. I'm just asking that you take more precautions. Think before just running into situations. Bring more back up with you when possible. Keep yourself safe. And come home to me.” You explain, as you gently stroke his jaw.
“Doll, I- well, no, nevermind,” He trails off, closing his eyes and stepping back from you as his arms fall to his side dejectedly. His quick withdraw confuses you.
“What, Buck? What's going on in that mind of yours?” You ask him, a slight fear of the answer you may receive.
“Maybe this should be it,” He says softly, not meeting your eyes.
“What are you saying?” You ask in a whisper.
“Sometimes I have to do solo missions. That’s something I can't stop. Less people, less parts of the equation to worry about. And if something happens to me, it’s not like it's not deserved,” He explains to you, voice oddly stoic. The real reason for his recklessness was much darker than you imagined. It wasn’t ignorant carelessness, instead he truly did not care if he died. He felt it was deserved.
It feels as if the floor is crumbling beneath your feet.
“Bucky, baby, what?” You choke out.
“You’ve seen the files on me and my past, doll. I know you have,” He tells you as he sits on the couch with his back to you, like that explains everything. In a way, it does.
Anger suddenly lights all your nerve-endings on fire. Anger for the past, anger at HYDRA, anger at the abuse and torture Bucky faced, anger that he is still suffering now. You find yourself marching to the front of the couch and kneeling in front of the still broken man you love.
“James, look at me,” you order, taking his face in your hands gently.
He looks up to you, his eyes a window to his torment. There are unshed tears there, and a frown present.
“Baby, you deserve a long, healthy, and happy life. You have made your amends, despite your past actions not even being your own. That was not you. You do not have to throw yourself into the worst conditions to prove your worthiness to be alive. Please know this,” Your voice brokenly begs.
His hands rise from their place on his knees to rest on your own, pulling them from his face and holding them in his own, thumbs stroking the back of your hands.
“Let me talk to your bosses. Let me call your therapist. It isn’t good to feel this way, baby,” You suggest.
Bucky thinks for a moment, looking at your face, like he’s trying to commit it to memory.
“Please, Bucky, let me call them,” You beg him, tears streaming down your face again.
A moment passes, as Bucky continues to look at you.
“You know, the only reason I’ve had a shred of preservation on missions lately is for you. Guess I’m too selfish to give you up yet,” He softly tells you, breaking your heart even more.
“Bucky, I want you to want to live and survive for yourself. Not just me, baby. I’m going to call them okay? But I’ll be right here by your side the whole time. It’s going to be okay,” You tell him, grabbing your phone from the coffee table and taking a seat next to him on the couch.
You made quick work of calling the necessary people. You called his therapist, who asked you to drive him to the compound as soon as possible, where they would do intake and he would be taken in for observation and inpatient therapy and treatment. You then called into the office, explaining vaguely that Bucky needed to go in for some treatment, and would be taking a leave of absence until he was well again.
You held his hand as you lead him past the mess of the living room to your shared bedroom, sitting him on the bed before you turned and grabbed both of your suitcases from the closet, bumbling around the room as you quickly packed bags for you both.
“I’m sorry, for all of this, I don’t know how my head got so messed up again,” He tells you dejectedly, not making eye contact.
You tsk, coming to stand in front of him and wrapping your arms around him, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
“Brains can get unwell just like the rest of us. You have nothing to be sorry for. You let me help you help yourself, and that’s all I can ask for. I’m here with you, and were going to be okay,” You tell him, before giving him a gentle kiss and moving back to packing.
You both stay in your pajamas, loading your suitcases in the trunk of the car before quickly driving to the compound, you having one hand in Bucky’s and one hand on the steering wheel the entire drive.
Upon arriving, Bucky and you are met at the door by his therapist and a nurse Bucky knows well. They usher you both back to a private room and explain the upcoming process of how things will go as he is admitted for inpatient services to help him with the way he is feeling. As they begin to ask in depth questions, you offer to give him privacy.
He quickly grabs your hand, firmly but gently all at the same time. His eyes shine as he looks to you.
“Please stay,” He whispers.
You smile at the sweet man in front of you, leaning in to give him a kiss before whispering against his lips a promise you vow to always keep.
“Always.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#james bucky barnes#winter soldier#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky#bucky barnes x you#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagines#preciousbarnes fics
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Haunted
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Tags: angst, loss, mourning, hurt/comfort, fluff eventually
Inspired by: Haunted by Taylor Swift
You felt ice cold, laying alone in a bed once kept warm by two bodies and now to be forever occupied by only one. It had been 3 days since you were given the worst news of your life, the worst news you would ever receive.
Part of you knew the second you opened the door to Sam standing on the doorstep, wringing his hands together and stuttering his request to come in. He never asked before, he was never nervous before. He had looked like he had just lost his best friend.
He had.
He explained to you the mission they were on in Eastern Europe, targeting an underground group attempting to recreate the super soldier serum.
Extensive, deadly injuries, you were told.
They knew with the number of injuries there wasn’t much hope, he explained to you. But hope was all you could hold on to at that moment.
Not compatible with life, you were told when asking for more details.
In between the cries, Sam assured you he did not suffer. Swore they loaded him up with every painkiller and sedative known to man to allow him to pass peacefully. That was it. When asking if you could see him one last time, Sam explained that it would be for the best if you remembered him as he was, breaking your heart even more.
You found yourself thinking of the obituary you had written earlier that day. How could you sum up a life like his into less than a novel? All he was, all he had to offer. Him as a whole.
Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Known simply as Bucky by loved ones. Aged 109. Loving husband, devoted soldier, and friend. Killed in the field defending what he believed in most, freedom and safety.
That was all you could bring yourself to write, and Sam assured you it was simple but beautiful just as your husband would have wanted.
Sam was arranging the rest of the funeral for you, which would take place tomorrow evening. Just a small gathering for those closest to Bucky during the sunset. All you had asked was for a private place for him to rest, preferably by nature. Known by few other than yourself, Bucky loved the outdoors. You wanted him to have a piece of beauty to himself forever. Thus, a small meadow had been privately purchased where he would by laid to rest.
You laid in bed, trying uselessly to go to sleep. You couldn’t. Each time your eyes closed, you saw Bucky. His smile, his beautiful eyes gazing at you, memories of his laughter and voice telling you he loved you. What once brought you comfort and warmth now kept you awake.
Late the next morning you moved robotically, getting showered and ready. As you did your hair and makeup, you saw how lifeless you appeared. Your hair was dry, without its normal shine. You had deep dark circles around your eyes. Your skin was dull. You looked lifeless, which matched exactly how you felt. As you styled your hair, you swore you saw a figure out of the corner of your eye. Gasping, you immediately dropped your styling tools.
You creeped out of your bathroom, and through your small home. No one was there. You could have sworn there was someone.
“Must be just lack of sleep,” you brokenly mutter to yourself, as you turn back to your bathroom to finish getting ready.
Around 5 Sam arrived to drive you to the small funeral. Tears slipped as it all began to become reality. He was gone. All you had was his memory to haunt you now.
The car ride was quiet. Sam kept looking to you out of the corner of his eye as he drove. He was worried, and heart broken for you.
“I know it doesn’t fix anything. It won’t undo the pain, but I’m here for you. I swore to Buck I’d always be here if something happened, just as he promised me for my family. You aren’t alone, honey. We’re all right here for you to lean on,” he softly told you.
“Thank you Sam. I’m just. I’m not ready to talk about all this yet. It’s too fresh still, but I think it always will be,” you tell him, voice becoming a whisper at the end.
You arrive at the meadow, to see the rest of the crew there. Agents, supervisors, the avengers, anyone who meant something the Bucky was there, just as you wanted. He deserved to be surrounded by love and respect as he is laid to rest. The scene was beautiful, a small meadow full of wildflowers near a little stream, with willow trees off in the distance. The sky was a mixture of pinks and oranges, beautifully painting the landscape in a honey golden color.
You all stand around the grave as Sam begins to speak, delivering the eulogy. You rest your hands on Bucky’s casket, stroking it the way you once stroked his cheek. As it all sinks in, the emotional dam you had built breaks open wide.
Out of your line of sight stands a figure hidden in the tree line. He watches as his own heart feels ripped in two, watching as you sob over the casket in front of you.
“You’re not gone! You can’t be gone!” you cried over and over. You were no longer numb. Seeing the casket, the flowers, the simple and inconspicuous grave marker, it all made it painfully real.
A small, sad smile takes over his face as he watches Sam gently pull you from the casket as it begins to be lowered into the ground. The man in the shadows tears up as he watches your sobs become heart wrenching wails of pure sorrow and grief, you begging for it all to be some sick nightmare.
The man slinks away further into the forest, left with nothing but sorrow and regret in his heart. It was coming over him like it’s all a big mistake.
That night Sam brought you back to his home, afraid to leave you on your own. Weeks slowly drudged on. You barely left his guest room. You couldn’t return to the home you once occupied with your husband. It was too much. Full of memories of love and promises of forever that was taken away far too soon.
When you did leave the guest room, usually when Sam was gone, it always felt as if someone else was there. A safe presence, a warm and familiar one. You swore you caught a figure out of the corner of you eye a few times. You’d always search the house high and low, some part of you hoping to find something but always coming up empty handed.
It all came to fruition one fateful night when you woke around 4am to hushed voiced down the hallway.
You creeped down the hall softly and slowly, stopping at the edge but not daring to peak around the hallways corner and down the stairs into the living room.
“Man, this cannot go on any longer. She’s fading away. There’s no way she can last a year like this. She won’t survive,” Sam said urgently and desperately. Your heart clenched despite your confusion at who he’d be talking to, hating to have worried him so. He had tried to take away the pain that he could, and had even made you smile a couple times. But it didn’t undo the hole in your heart and soul.
“I know, but I’ve worked something out” says a voice you’d recognize anywhere. One you never thought you’d hear again. You gasp, tears springing to your eyes as you’re suddenly running down the stairs to the two men.
There he was. He wore his all black tactical gear you had seen many times. His face had fading bruises and scrapes, obviously having just came from a fight of some sorts. He looked at your with a heart broken gaze, taking in your shattered appearance.
You sniffle, tears cascading down your cheeks as you feel like you’re seeing a ghost.
“Bucky?” You brokenly cry, as your knees buckle.
Before you can blink you’re swept up into strong and familiar arms, Bucky holding you tightly to his chest. Your fingers claw into his shoulders, gripping him to yourself as you sob violently, overwhelmed. Sam finds himself smiling softly at the reunion he wished for as he quietly excused himself.
“H-how?” You cry between sobs. Bucky sits down in a chair, bringing you down into his lap as he cradles you close, allowing you to rearrange yourself to straddle his lap, holding him tightly to your torso. You’re afraid to let go, afraid this is another dream and that you’ll wake to his memory slipping through your fingers.
His metal hand pets your back softly but firmly, grounding you as his flesh hand cradles your face, looking you in your eyes.
“Hey, baby doll. I’m right here, but you gotta breathe for me. Let’s just breathe for a moment alright?” His voice softly suggests. You look over his face, seeing the man you love more than life itself, alive and warm and healing in your arms. You nod, trying to catch your breathe.
After a few moments pass as you calm your breathing, you ask again.
“Bucky, I- I don’t understand. You, Sam said you were gone?” You question, voice wet with emotion.
He nods, and grimaces.
“We lied. I had to lie. The mission, it was bad. It is still bad.” He explains to your softly, continuing to give you soft pets and caresses that ground you. They tell you he’s here, he’s safe, he’s alive, he’s yours.
“How could you? Do you know how I’ve been? Bucky I was dead without you,” you sob softly.
His guilt ridden frown deepens, and there are tears in his eyes.
“I know, baby. I know. And I am so so sorry. There was no other way. There still isn’t. But I’m too selfish to keep this charade up, even if you’d be safer if I had,” he explains to you.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“I’ve been here, checking in on you. I was at the funeral. I know how I’ve hurt you, and I will be sorry for the rest of my life. But I hope to spend the rest of my life making up for this.” He tells you, the realization dawning on you. You hadn’t been crazy. That figure had been him.
“It was you,” you whisper. Bucky smiles sadly and nods.
“It was. The mission was bad. They knew about you. They knew where we were, even with all our precautions we took. They were going to use you to get me, and kill you. I couldn’t let that happen. So Sam, a couple higher ups, and I faked my death. We figured in a year I could reveal the truth once my undercover mission going after them concluded. I needed you alive, I can’t live in a world without you on this planet. Even if it meant coming back in a year and you maybe moved on. It was worth it. But then I saw you mourn me. How broken it made you. I heard your cries, your pleas for me. I’m too selfish to continue this lie, even if it’d keep you safer.” He tells you, voice choked with emotion as his eyes fill with tears.
Your hands move from where they had grip of his shoulders to cradle his face, wiping away the tears the fell.
“Oh, James. I’m just so, so glad you’re not gone. I can’t live in a world without you. I would have never moved on. I promised to be yours and yours alone forever. Even after all of this, I mean every word I said to you.” You tell him, before pulling his face to yours for a kiss.
He kisses you like a man starving, his lips soft and warm but firm and demanding. His hands hold you reverently, like you’re made of glass and he refuses to let you slip through his fingers. You hold him softly but firmly in your arms, feeling his strong and sturdy frame under you. It promises safety, comfort, love, and a future.
You wrap your arms around him tighter, pulling him impossibly closer. After a few moments you both begrudgingly part to breathe. Your foreheads rest on each other as you gaze into each others eyes. The rest of the world had faded into the background, and it’s just you and the man you thought you lost; the man who you love and will love until the end of your days no matter how misguided he may have been.
“I’m so so sorry, doll. I love you so much. Missed you so much. I’ll never hurt you like this again, I just needed you safe” he vowed to you, voice breaking as he hugs you to his frame.
You readjust in his lap, wrapping your legs around him so you’re seated firmly on his lap. Your head rests on his shoulder as your hands softly map his back soothingly.
“I know,” you whisper, “I love you too. Always.”
You both sit there, basking in each other’s presence quietly, before you break the silence again.
“You said you have it worked out now? What did you work out?” You ask him in a whisper, not wanting to break the soft and peaceful atmosphere surrounding you both. You move to sit back up instead of leaving against him, grasping both his hands in yours.
“We’ll go into hiding for a while, until Sam and others can figure this all out. In the past few weeks I’ve narrowed down locations for them, and their structure. I’ll assist from the sidelines when necessary, but I won’t be in the field at all. I’ll be with you. We will be together.” He promises you.
“Sounds perfect to me,” you sigh, knowing the rest will be figured out. Looking down to where your left hand rested with his, you smiled as both your wedding rings caught the light. You were just glad to have your husband back in your arms, no longer just haunted.
#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky fic#bucky x you#bucky imagine#bucky barnes angst#marvel imagines#marvel fanfiction#preciousbarnes fics
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Misunderstandings
Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky comes home and overhears a phone call that chills him to the bone.
Word Count: 1.7k
Tags: Established relationship, doubt, misunderstandings, insecurities, hurt/comfort, fluff
Bucky exited the elevator sluggishly. He was exhausted from the mission he had just come from, where he and Sam had been tasked with infiltrating a sect of underground super soldiers. To say he had gotten his butt kicked at first would be an understatement. Super soldiers were much harder to take down compared to normal targets.
He readjusted his hold on the duffle bag he carried, and reached into his pockets to pull out the keys to the quant little apartment he occupied in Brooklyn. He arrived in front of the door, and unlocked the door, letting himself in. He could hear your voice down the hall along with a second, much more muffled voice, leading him to assume you were on the phone. He smiled at the thought of getting to see and be with you again. It had been a long week away.
He set his bag down in the hall, stripping off his jacket and hanging it on the coatrack near the door and hanging his keys up on the little hook next to yours. He smiled softly at the sight of your matching keychains, two little Lego people; he had one that looked like you and you had the one that looked like him.
Padding down the hallway softly, he felt giddy getting closer and closer to the bedroom, so excited to be in the safety and comfort of your arms again. Not meaning to, just a casualty of super senses that came along with the status of being a super soldier, he could hear your conversation loud and clear.
“Just talk to him first,” He heard your best friend on the line tell you.
This piqued his interest, wondering to himself who ‘him’ was. Was it him, or someone else? What was wrong? Questions began to swirl as he approached the doorway to the bedroom. He smiled again, taking in your form sitting in the middle of the bed you shared. You were in your pajamas; an old t-shirt of his and fluffy pants with little cats on them, your feet covered by mismatched socks. Your hair was still damp from your shower, he could smell your sweet smelling shampoo and body wash. It smelled like home to him.
You hadn’t noticed him in the doorway, as he was always so quiet when he walked, due to his long-ingrained training. Suddenly, you said something that made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.
“Maybe I should just leave?” You pondered out loud. Bucky felt his jaw drop open a bit, and his legs moved automatically, bringing him into your sight, to the edge of the bed where he lowered himself to his knees.
He was overwhelmed with questions in his own mind. You wanted to leave? Why? Things were going well he thought. You had just celebrated 4 years together. You had even had the big conversation about marriage. Unbeknownst to you, he had a ring being made for you, a new one with a vintage feel. It would be vintage looking to you, but would be like the rings he always imagined picking out for a special girl back in his youth. Now, he felt all that slipping through his fingertips. You wanted to leave.
That’s all he could think.
You didn’t want him anymore.
You wanted to leave him.
The baggage was too much. All the nightmares, the therapy, the looks from people who knew of his past and couldn’t understand why you’d choose to be with him. You had finally decided enough was enough, he thought.
Could he beg? Could he plead with you? He could do better, he was sure of it. Whatever he had done wrong, he’d fix it. Anything to keep you. Anything to be worthy of you.
He tried to tell you as much, but no words could come out. Tears just sprang to his eyes. Hurt, confused, uncertain. His face said it all. You noticed Bucky’s presence as he dropped to his knees next to the bed, his face looking like he had just lost everything. Little did you know, in his mind he thought he just had.
You quickly told your best friend you had to go, that Bucky was home, and hung up; tossing your phone down the bed and moving closer to the side Bucky was knelt by. You reached your hands out, wanting to comfort the man who looked utterly broken next to you. Shockingly to you, he flinched back from the touch, making you pull your hands away, concern rising in your chest.
“What’s wrong, James?” You ask him softly.
He rapidly blinks, tears finally falling down his cheeks. He cleared his throat before asking the one question he needed an answer to.
“Why?” His voice brokenly asks.
You cock your head to the side, not understanding.
“Why, what? Sweetheart, I don’t understand,” you tell him.
“What did I do wrong? I can fix it, I swear I can. Just tell me, and we’ll work it out,” He tells you, pleading.
“James, honey you didn’t do anything. I’m so confused right now,” You admit to him, not understanding but desperately wanting to sooth him. You reach out to him again, thankful when he doesn't flinch back from your touch this time, You run your fingers through his short hair, scratching his scalp gently.
“You thought you should just leave,” he says with a sniffle, “I- I thought things were good. We talked about getting married,” he whispers, looking at you, tear tracks down his cheeks.
It clicked suddenly. Oh, no. He thought you were talking about your relationship.
You move quickly, climbing off the bed to kneel by him, taking him in your arms. He doesn’t resist, instead letting you maneuver him. You lay back against the carpeted floor, pulling him along with you to lay on top of you. His head goes to your chest, his tear-streaked face dampening your shirt.
“Baby, I wasn’t talking about us, I swear to you. You did nothing wrong. Nothing is wrong. I’m so sorry you overheard me and thought I was talking about us,” You tell him, running your hand up and down his back, trying to comfort him. It hurt your heart to see him so upset and know you had accidently caused it.
“Then, what were you talking about?” He asks, voice uncharacteristically small.
“My job and my boss. I’m thinking of quitting. You know how unhappy I’ve been, and today was even worse than normal,” You explain to him, caressing his cheek as you try to wipe away his tears.
“You weren’t talking about us? You promise?” He asks, feeling a shred of hope bloom in his chest, but still cautious. He felt suddenly insecure. He had gotten so upset, and you apparently weren’t even talking about what he thought you were.
“Yes, Bucky, I promise you. Nothing is wrong with us, baby. I told you, forever and always. I meant that.”
He smiles softly at the memory of you making that promise when he had asked you about what you thought of marriage. It was one of his fondest memories.
“I’m so sorry you thought I was talking about us, babe. I hate seeing you so upset,” You say, kissing his forehead gently as he continues to seek out comfort in your arms, his arms wrapping around you tighter.
“It’s okay. I just thought that my biggest fear was becoming real, losing you I mean. I don’t know what I’d do,” he admits to you quietly, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, a nervous tick of his.
“You’ll never have to know. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” You tell him, tone serious and leaving no room for him to question it.
He moves then, sitting up and then standing, pulling you up along with him. You look up at the man in front of you, wearing his heart on his sleeve for you and you alone. His eyes are slightly red and puffy, his lips slightly pouty. It’s like his brain is still having a hard time understanding that you really weren’t talking about your relationship.
You reach up and gently grasp his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss as he makes a cute and small surprised noise. You smile into the kiss, and he does too, as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his.
You pull back, and he rests his head against yours.
“I’m sorry I freaked out. I jumped to the worst conclusions, and I shouldn’t have. I’m supposed to be working on that,” He says with a chuckle despite himself.
You give him another peck on the lips, followed by another, and then another.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. But just know, I’m here, and I am not going anywhere. I’m here until the end of the line,” you tell him, willing him to trust what you’re telling him.
He nods and is the one to give you a kiss this time, soft and sweet and full of adoration. His hands rest on your hips, holding you like you’re made of glass. He was always so gentle with you.
After a moment passes as you enjoy the feeling of being held, you both quietly move to lay in bed. You get under the covers as Bucky strips off his clothes. Once down to his boxers, he climbs in next to you, turning off the light on the bedside table and pulling you into arms. You rest your head on his chest, your fingers running over his chest and stomach, moving in random patterns lightly on his skin.
He kisses your head, hands gently stroking your back under the shirt, enjoying the feeling of your skin under his fingertips as he wills himself to calm down and know that it was all a misunderstanding. He sighs in relief, happy and content to have you in his arms again and assured that you weren’t leaving. Letting himself relax, he felt the exhaustion once again. There was a dull ache in his extremities from all the fighting on the long mission, and he could feel sleep tugging at his consciousness. The last thing he felt as he drifted off while relishing in the knowledge of the fact you weren’t leaving was a gentle kiss being pressed to his jaw, and a soft ‘I love you’ being whispered into his skin.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#winter soldier fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#preciousbarnes fics
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Promises | Part 1/3
Pairing: Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: When your parents are murdered in cold blood, you turn to the most feared man on the east coast for answers.
Word count: 2.4k
Tags: Violence, discussion of murder, graphic scene, hurt/comfort (it was a murder yall, its not pretty but I dont think I described it too graphically), Google translate used for the Russian, mafia themes.
You found yourself in a dark and quiet bar tonight, the smell of top shelf liquor and cigar smoke prominent the second you walked through the door. You were anxious of course, but anyone with a shred of common sense would be nervous about meeting the one known as the Winter Soldier. At least, you hoped to talk to him tonight. You slowly approached the bar, remembering the code your father had once told you, in case you ever found yourself in this position.
“Я ищу зимнего солдата” you softly say to the bartender, earning a subtly surprised expression. I’m looking for the winter solder, you had said.
The bartender sets down the glass he was drying, and walks away and through a back door, which you’re certain leads to the the office of the man you seek. After a few moments, the bartender returns, followed by a tall, blonde man. He was strong, all muscle, his face serious but had an undertone of friendliness. You were unsure if it was genuine or not. You never can be sure about mobsters, despite how kindly your father had always spoken of the Winter Mob. Especially now, that your family had been wronged so brutally.
“What is your business here, miss? We don’t see many women around these places,” He says, voice smooth like velvet, carrying the whispers of a Brooklyn accent.
“Mr. Barnes knows my parents. They’re the owners of the bakery on the corner of Southeast Avenue. Something happened, and I need to speak with Mr. Barnes. I need answers.” You say, voice surprisingly stern even though your insides felt like they were shaking like a leaf.
Once you mention the establishment your parents ran, the tall blondes eyes light with understanding.
“Ah yes, your parents are very good people. We know them well. You must be their daughter. If it is truly something serious, please, follow me,” He says, stepping aside as he holds the door for you. You walk down a long and dimly lit corridor in silence, being led by the man. This is when you notice the weapons strapped to his hips. He is dressed in the mobs characteristic all black clothing they were known for, with two guns, one on each him, strapped to him. He also wore a shoulder holster, holding a smaller pistol and two knives. He looked lethal, but had surprised you with his professional but friendly manner.
As you get closer to the door at the end of the hall, you hear the soft tones of jazz coming from inside the office, a deep and quiet hum accompanying it. The unnamed blonde knocks softly, before opening the door.
The office is also dimly lit only by a small desk lap. There were stacks metal file cabinets around the room, holding what you were sure to be decades of files on everything mob related you could imagine. The Winter Mob was known for their organization and wide depth of knowledge. The floor was a deep, rich wood, the wallpaper elaborate and stunning. Everything about the office screamed luxury.
At the desk in the center of the room sat the most dangerous man on the East Coast. Bucky Barnes, head of the Winter Mob. He wore a fitted black suit, with a black dress shirt as well. His hair was short, and he had a slight stubble on his jaw. He was a handsome man, but for every bit he was handsome, you knew he was also deadly. You involuntarily shivered at the thought of all he is involved with, and now here you were, on a mission for information.
He looked up, eyes taking you in, trailing over your face, then down your body, and back up before he spoke.
“What can I do for you, doll? Bad boyfriend you want taken care of?” He asks in a deep voice, with a slight chuckle, already making assumptions about you. It wouldn’t have been the first time a young woman had come to him for help getting out of a relationship. Little did you know, he always helped in those situations, for no cost. He was raised to respect women, to cherish them. Whenever he could, he would help women get away from men who didn’t understand that.
“No, Mr. Barnes. You know my parents. You helped them with a loan, to keep their bakery afloat. The little one on the corner of Southeast Avenue,” You explain, hoping that he will know who you’re talking about. You know he works and helps a lot of different people, so it’s hard to say if he will specifically know your parents. All you can do is hope.
At the mention of the bakery, Bucky gives a small but honest smile.
“Yeah, I do. They make the best cream puffs on this side of the U.S, I swear. How are they?” He asks you, as he leans back a bit in his chair.
“They’re dead.” You say, voice breaking on the word ‘dead’. It was still a raw wound on your heart, and still difficult to say out loud. It still felt like you were in a bad dream.
His visibly shocks Bucky. His eyebrows furrow together and his jaw drops open slightly.
“What?” He asks, softly. Unknown to you, since you were mostly away in the big city working, Bucky really loved your parents. He thought they were good, honest people. He himself stopped in twice a week to visit, always ordering a small black coffee and two cream puffs. Your mother and father reminded him of his own, who he dearly missed. It was a shellshock to him to hear the two were gone so suddenly.
His blatant shock surprised you. You really thought he knew. How did he not?
“You mean, you didn’t know? I thought it was one of your goons who took them out?” You ask, confused.
Bucky and the blonde man who had led you in snorted in slight laughter at you calling his workers and family “goons”.
“Steve, will you grab the ledger book for her families loan for me?” Bucky asked, thanking the blonde who you now knew was Steve as he handed a thin bound book over to the boss.
“Doll, come here, I want to show you something,” The boss called to you, beckoning you over with a motion of his hand, as the other flipped through the pages of the small book, before coming to the end of the writing in the book.
“See here? Their debt was paid back in full to me, two years before the deadline I had set. They’ve had me paid off for a while now. They swore to me I’d see my money back, with interest, and they kept their promise to me in full. I’d have no reason to put a hit out on them, and I never would,” The mobster told you, a surprisingly soft and gentle tone contrasting his strong and tough exterior.
“I- I don’t understand. I thought surely, they must have been behind on the loan, or made you angry somehow or something. I just wanted some answers. Who- who killed my parents?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes. You thought you had originally had at least part of the answer, being who was responsible, and now you didn’t even have that.
“I don’t know, doll. But we’re going to figure it out,” He promises you, confusing you once again. This man was full of surprises to you.
“Why? Why do you want to help me?” You ask him. When you ask, he looks to you with a fire in his eyes.
“They were family. No one gets by with hurting family, doll,” His voice tells you, a dangerous edge to it.
The mafia boss quickly tells Steve to pull his car around for you both after learning you had gotten to their bar by bus. As he waited, he asked a bit about you. He wanted to know where you were staying, to which you told him the hotel. He was satisfied in knowing it was one he secretly owned. You told him about your job in New York, which you had taken a leave of absence from to come home to Brooklyn to figure this out. He nodded as you spoke, listening as you watched him grab his gun from his desk drawer, loading it before putting it in the holster strapped to his hip. He then grabbed his wallet, thick with cash you could clearly see making it bulge, shoving it in his pocket. You both turned to Steve when he returned, telling his boss the car was ready, before leading you both outside.
You both climbed into the Escalade, Steve opening and closing your door for you. After you’re both buckled in, he begins to drive.
“Where did it happen?” He asks you, eyes focused on the road.
“Their home, off of 56th street, if you turn here, you’ll want to-“ You’re suddenly cut off.
“I know where it is, doll, your mother was sweet enough to invite me and the boys to dinner a couple times. A sweet woman, she was,” He told you, voice sounding like silk as he fondly remembered the meals and memories he shared with your parents. They had been good to him, and his closest family members; the boys who were part of his administration, the top level of the mob, the ones he worked with the most.
“I didn’t realize you all were that close?” You question, still surprised.
Bucky sends you a kind smile, not bothered by your confused and uncertain tone.
“Your parents were good people. Kind people. Nothing like the company we usually keep. They just needed help, and we were happy to help them. For our assistance, they made sure we knew how grateful they were, which isn’t something that happens for us often. Most are afraid of us, but for some reason they never were. We respected that.” He tells you, his own respect for your parents clear in his tone.
“They really meant something to you,” You conclude, still seeing a hint of sadness in his voice where he had to use past tense when talking about your parents now.
“They did. They treated me like their own, which I’m sure you know how good that is,” He tells you, voice soft again.
You smile sadly, nodding. Your parents had been so good to you, always your number one fan. To know they had been good to a mobster too, having hearts full enough to see past the tough exterior and treat Bucky’s family like their own, made your own heart swell. They really were good people. You were blessed to have come from them, but that made you want justice for them even more. They didn’t deserve the fate they had been given.
You both pulled up outside of their small home. It was modest, but charming all the same. A small brick two-story house with white shutters. There were small window boxes hanging off of each window, holding flower beds your mother had planted little wildflowers in, a beautiful bright contrast to the brick building. There was police tape surrounding the property, with an officer stationed outside on the porch.
Bucky puts the car in park, parking behind the police car out front. As he unbuckles, he turns to face you, surprised to see you also unbuckling.
“Doll, stay here, I don’t think you’ll want to see this,” He commands, voice not leaving room for argument. You’ve always been stubborn, so you argue anyway.
“I want to come with you, Mr. Barnes. I deserve to know. I want to see it too,” You plead with him.
He sighs, taking in your stern tone and resiliency clear on your face. He nods begrudgingly.
“First, call me Bucky. Second, okay. But, don’t say anything to the officer, and do not touch anything, okay?” He orders you, earning him a small smile and a nod from you.
You both get out of the car, walking up the sidewalk, only to be stopped by the officer.
Bucky quickly pulls out a wad of cash, silencing the officers demands for you both to leave. Pocketing the cash, he holds the police tape up for you and Bucky to crouch under to enter the property. You pull out your key to your family home, unlocking the door and moving to walk in the door until Bucky stops you.
“Let me go first doll,” He tells you, making you step back to let him enter first.
The first thing you notice is a pungent smell of iron hitting you both. You grimace. You hadn’t been told much by police, only that it had been quite a gruesome scene. The medical examiner had already informed you that you would have to have a closed casket service, and had advised you as gently as possible that it would be best if you didn’t see their bodies in the state they were now in. It hurt your heart. But all of that still didn’t prepare you for the scene you both saw in the living room.
Blood was everywhere. The floors, the walls, the couches, the curtains. It was obvious there had been a struggle from the trail of blood around the room. The room looked like a scene out of a horror film. In the center of the room laid a large and sharp knife, also covered in blood. In the light, gleamed an inscription you couldn’t make out. Bucky crouched down next to it for a closer look, and you couldn’t stop it anymore. Sobs wracked your body, vision blurring from your tears. You hug your midsection, wishing for comfort. It shockingly comes.
Bucky stands from his couched position in the middle of the room and strides back over to you, carefully wrapping you in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, дорогая” He whispers in your ear, holding you close to him as your head comes to rest on his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. Sweetheart is what he called you. His voice was also heavy with emotion, hating the scene in front of you both. It was a scene of two people who had fought hard, but nevertheless had a horrifying and painful death.
“I think I know who is responsible,” He informs you, after your tears slowly come to a stop, now just enjoying the comfort his strong arms brought you.
“You do? Who?” You timidly ask, fearful of hearing who could have done something so violent, so horrid and animalistic, to people as sweet and kind as your parents who wouldn’t hurt anyone for anything in the world.
“His name is Zemo,” His voice darkly tells you, taking your hand and leading you out of the house and back to the Escalade.
Part 2: Coming Soon
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes#winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier#the winter soldier#mafia!au#mafia boss!bucky x reader#mafia!bucky#bucky barnes mafia au#mafia!bucky x reader#mafia!bucky barnes#mafia!avengers#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#preciousbarnes fics
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Remember Me
Chapter 1: Wiped
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Bucky is left completely changed from the man you married. A multi-part, on-going series.
Word Count: 1.2k
Tags/Warnings: Injuries, Discussion of Torture, Amnesia, Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Eventual Comfort.
You stood in the large hangar next to the ramp up to the quinjet, watching the others walking up and taking their seats, strapping themselves in and talking amongst themselves about the upcoming mission. You didn’t know much about the confidential mission since you were not accompanying them, since you were still recovering from an injury that happened during a training session. However, you could just sense it was a serious one; meaning a dangerous one. The whole team was serious, instead of joking and cutting up like usual. It worried you. While you watched the backs of all your team members, there was certainly one you always looked out for especially. Your husband, Bucky. You hated that you wouldn’t be there, and you knew you would be worried until he returned to you.
A smile graced your face as he walked towards you carrying his go-bag, an old duffle bag. He stopped in front of you, setting the bag down to take you into his arms, kissing you on the lips firmly before pulling back to rest his forehead on yours.
“Be safe. You better come back to me in one piece, Barnes,” You tell him sternly, making him chuckle.
“I will, and I always do, Mrs. Barnes,” His deep voice assures you, quieting your fears temporarily. His promise will quiet the nagging fear in your head for a short time, no doubt destined to return later once you find yourself alone in your apartment without him tonight.
You give him a tight hug before he reaches down to pick up his duffle, giving you a reassuring smile before he jogs up the ramp and into the quinjet, it's engines whirling to life.
You stand at the sidelines, watching as the jet lifts off and hovering for a moment before it flys off to their destination, it carrying your whole world away from you while you just prayed to any god that would listen to bring him back home to you safely.
That night you found yourself curled up on the couch with your favorite book, Alpine purring on your lap, kneading your thighs with her paws ever so gently. Lost in the imaginary world held within the novel in your hands, you and Alpine are startled when your phone suddenly loudly rings from it's place on the coffee table in front of you.
You slide your bookmark in the book to save your spot, picking up your phone, surprised when you see who is calling. It was Bucky.
You answer the phone, pressing it to your ear.
“Hey, honey” you excitedly say, always happy to hear from your husband while he is away.
“Hey, sunshine, it’s Steve,” The captain says, sounding exhausted and every bit his age.
“Steve? Where’s Bucky, why are you calling with his phone?” You ask, confused.
“Listen, you need to get to the compound. We got just back,” He tells you quickly, confusing you even more, and you wondered what the beeping was that you could hear in the background.
“What? I thought Bucky was getting a ride with you? Got a hot date, cap?” You joke, rising to your feet and walking over to grab your shoes.
“Sweetheart, it’s Bucky. He’s hurt. Bad. You need to get here, ASAP. We’re going to send someone to get you, I don’t want you worried and driving,” He tells you.
That’s what the beeping was. Medical equipment. The noise you heard was a heart monitor. You suddenly feel faint, knees buckling as you plop back down on the couch, shoes falling from your hands and hitting the floor.
“S-steve. He’s alive, right?” You ask brokenly, needing to know if you had lost your whole world.
“Yes, he’s alive, but he’s not okay right now. They’re telling me your ride is about two minutes out, they’ll get you here safely,” He assures you.
“Is someone with him right now? I don’t want him alone until I get there,” You tell him, voice breaking.
“Yes, sweetheart, we’re all here with him, and you will be soon,” He assures you, while still clearly worried about his best friend.
You say a quiet ‘okay’, before telling him that you’d be there soon, hanging up. You felt like ice was running through your veins as you put on your shoes quietly. You numbly rose to your feet, walking out to where you heard the sound of a car pulling up for you.
The ride over was fast but quiet, the agent driving using their lights and sirens on the vehicle to speed back to the compound where the team, including your apparently injured husband was. The urgency in their driving scared you even more. He must have been bad. You found yourself fiddling with the ring on your left hand, your wedding ring, as the worst case scenarios played in your head.
Steve was standing outside when you arrived, security lights illuminating his figure in the dark. As you exited the car, he moved to quickly usher you inside. You walked down the main corridor and towards the medical unit quickly, until Steve suddenly and gently grasped your hand, stopping you before you reached the sliding doors into the med bay.
“Sunshine, I need to prepare you, before you see him,” He tells you solemnly.
You drily swallow before nodding, understanding that it would be best for Bucky if you were prepared beforehand. You felt eerily calm, probably from the shock of it all, your brain conveniently told you.
“How bad, Steve?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice. It sounded dark and gravely to your ears.
“Physically, he looks fine. It’s his mind,” He tells you, trying to gently break the news.
“How bad?” You repeat, making him sigh and look down at his feet before he gets closer to you, locking eyes with you again.
“We were investigating a new underground sect, that we thought may have connections of Hydra. We were right. Bucky and I rushed in. They drugged me with something, we don’t know what it was but it was very effective in knocking me out. They wanted their Winter Soldier back,” He explains.
“Steve, tell me what happened to my husband!” You loudly say, getting looks from some agents who were walking past. You give them a glare, daring them to say something. The quickly avert their eyes and speed walk down the hall.
“They used the Memory Suppressing Machine on him, they attempted wipe him” He tells you, breaking the news that effectively broke your heart.
Would he remember you? Would he even know you? Would the Winter Soldier be back? You opened your mouth to ask these questions, but no sound came out.
“W-what?” was all you could manage to get out, feeling tears come to your eyes.
Seeing your broken expression, Steve hugged you, resting his head on top of yours.
“He’s still unconscious, we don’t know what it wiped yet, if anything at all. Even though he’s out, I knew you’d want to be here. We have the best doctors, including Dr. Banner at the ready. Tony and him are looking through files and studies right now as we speak. We will fix this, sunshine,” He tells you.
You pull back from the friendly embrace, give him a broken smile despite yourself.
“Don’t make promises you aren’t sure you can keep, Cap,” you tell him softly, before walking through the sliding doors in to see your husband, most likely a ghost of the man you had come to know and love.
#preciousbarnes fics#remember me by preciousbarnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#marvel fanfiction#winter soldier fanfiction#fanfiction#bucky barnes
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You Were My Versailles At Night (Peter Parker/Reader)
Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker/Reader
Prompt: After a rough evening, feelings are discussed. Inspired by lyrics in the song Fourth of July by Fall Out Boy.
warnings: depictions of assault (its a mugging), then fluffy fluff fluff, hurt/comfort.
word count: 1.08k
Your best friend and part-time neighborhood vigilante had been out on patrol as you were walking back to your shared apartment from the night class you were enrolled in. Walking back home, you had your headphones in listening to your favorite podcast. It was about ten p.m. at this point, but you didn’t mind. You had always been more of an evening and night person, hence why you elected to take evening courses. You also found them less crowded than other classes, which was a bonus. Walking down the street, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a strong arm grabbing your waist and pulling you down a dark alley, before being thrown to the ground.
Across town, Peter was dressed in his Spiderman suit, lowering a sewer grate back into place after saving a mother cat and her two babies who had been washed down by a recent storm. Suddenly, Karen speaks.
“Sir, I have eyes on a mugging taking place in an alley off of 7th street,” the AI informs Peter as she shows him the grainy and dark video showing two shadowy figures in the alley. All Peter could make out was someone lying on the ground, as a much taller and sturdier person beating them.
Peter quickly made his way to the alley, swinging and jumping from building to building before creeping to the alley and taking stance behind the attacker. He deployed his webbing, wrapping the attacker from head-to-toe in the strong substance, subduing and eliminating the threat quickly, and then turning to the victim. Who he saw made his heart stop.
“No, no, no, no, no,” He muttered to himself in quick succession as he kneeled next to the victim. It was you, laying there unconscious in a pool of blood, a bruise already forming under your left eye.
“K-Karen, run a diagnostic scan on them, please, and tell me how to get to the nearest hospital” He asks, this voice full of emotion, scooping you up gently, ready to get you to the nearest hospital. A map with a route to the fastest trauma center appeared in his mask, giving him an optimum way to get you there within just a few minutes.
“It appears that they have multiple contusions and cuts, two cracked ribs, and a concussion, sir” Karen informs Peter, as she continually updates him on the route to the hospital.
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It was now past midnight, and Peter found himself sitting in a small hospital chair next to your bed where your unconscious form laid. Luckily, he had been able to call Ned to bring him some normal clothes to him to he could come in to see you. Listed as your emergency contact, which surprised him, the doctors had been able to tell him your condition, which was exactly what Karen had reported to him. Peter looked over to you, taking in your appearance. He hated himself for not getting there sooner.
“You are my favorite ‘what if’, and my best ‘I’ll never know’” He whispers to himself as he holds one of your hands in both of his, bringing it to his lips to kiss gently.
At the noise you stirred, turning your head to face him and squinting at the stale white light in the hospital room.
“Wha?” you ask softly.
“Honey, are you up? How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? I’m so sorry,” Peter quickly rambles, his hold on your hand tightening.
“What did you say?” you ask again.
Peter swallows. He had come close to losing you tonight, and he refused to go another day without you knowing how he felt, even though he was sure you wouldn’t feel the same.
“I said, ‘you are my favorite what if, and my best I’ll never know’, I love you. I know you don’t feel the same, but I need you to know that,” He says, tears in his eyes.
You smile softly and remove your hand from his hold, resulting in a hurt expression on his face briefly before your hand reaches up to caress his cheek and wiping a tear away that falls.
“I love you too, so I’m not a something you’ll ‘never know’” you tell him softly, smiling as he moves his head to kiss your palm before leaning his face back into your hand.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner, sweetheart,” He tells you, sounding absolutely heartbroken as more tears fall.
“No, Peter, please. Don’t you dare be sorry. You most likely saved my life. I remember that guy had a knife, he could have killed me. You got there, you got me here, and I’m going to survive. I don’t think I’ll be taking night classes again for a while, but I’ll be alright.” You tell him sternly. You don’t want this precious human and your personal hero now ever doubting himself. While it is true you feel anxious even imagining being out at night now, you know that’s the new trauma talking, which you will work to address with your therapist to continue to heal emotionally and mentally as well as physically from the attack.
“I’m making you something, a ring,” He tells you with conviction.
“Well, I know we proclaimed our love for one another just now, but it might be a little soon for a ring, honeybun,” you joke, making him smile and shake his head as he laughs with you.
“Then a bracelet or something. I’m making you a personal panic button. I never want this to happen again. I’m going to make it so it looks completely normal but if you press it I’ll know where you are immediately and that you need me,” He tells you, softly brushing a hair out of your face.
Normally you’d object to gifts, but this one sounded perfect. You would know he’s always going to be there for you if you’d need him. You nod in agreement.
“Okay, sounds good to me, I’d like that a lot actually,” you tell him before yawning, the pain medication starting to kick in more, making you feel drowsy again.
Peter leans in and kissed you on the cheek before caressing your face with the hand not holding yours at the moment.
“Go to sleep, sweetheart; I’ll be here,” He whispers to you. His soft smiling face is the last thing you see as you slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing your hero was there to keep you safe.
#peter parker#mcu!peter parker#mcu!peter x reader#mcu!spiderman x reader#mcu#marvel#spiderman#tom holland#songfic#oneshot#tw assualt#tw mugging#pete parker fluff#peter parker hurt/comfort#peter parker imagine#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#preciousbarnes fics
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Okay so hear me out imagine that Morgan stark has grown up looking to Peter as a father figure (of course he never replaced tony and worked to keep his memory alive for Morgan) and of course Morgan is just as intelligent as her father ever was so she finds a way to bring her father back and Peter walks in to see Morgan standing in front of Tony with tears in her eyes as says “dad?” And of course tony is dumbfounded because last thing he remembers is snapping Thanos out of existence and pepper telling him they’ll all be okay and now he’s here standing in front of his now adult daughter and Peter who is now in his early 30s walks in to talk to Morgan about a new lab thing or something related to stark industries and is shocked to see his mentor standing there among the living again
#fic ideas#i might write it#what do you think?#peter parker#tony stark#preciousbarnes fics#peter parker blurb#preciousbarnes blurbs
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What would Bucky be like on a first date??
OHH this cutie would be such a gentleman, not just because of his age/the time period he grew up in but because he really wants to try and be worthy of who he is going with.
He'd ask Steve for advice, and ask Sam about what restaurant he should take you to. He'd be opening the doors, pulling out the chairs, politely asking about what you do and your interests. He'd be reserved about himself at first, worried about scaring you away, but telling you a little bit because he doesn't want to be dishonest.
After dinner, he'd take you somewhere like an old movie theater with a vintage feel. Well, it would feel vintage to you but he would feel moments of deja vu, remembering growing up with friends and little dates he had back in the day. And now he's here with you, in the 21st century. It would throw him for a minute.
He'd ask to hold your hand, which would make you smile. You'd hold hands throughout the movie, laughing together at the funny parts.
He'd drive you home and walk you to the door, thanking you for giving him the pleasure of taking you out. Not wanting to be presumptuous, he would tell you goodnight and go to walk away, but you'd pull him in for a sweet and gentle kiss before he left blushing and smiling, excited for the next date he was already thinking of in his mind.
i honestly feel like dating him would be like living in a cheesy romcom half the time, which who would say no to that??
#preciousbarnes blurbs#preciousbarnes fics#asks#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes headcanon
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what would peter be like asking you to marry him?
Okay so a lot of fics have him super nervous and stuttering and stuff but I personally think this guy would be so confident.
At this point in the relationship you’d been together for quite awhile now and had seen each other through so much. Good times and bad. So the idea of having a forever with you? Easiest choice of his life. He’d pick out a beautiful ring, one probably with a classic feel maybe even a vintage setting. It would be modest, not something super fancy but something unique.
I think he’d ask you somewhere private, like maybe a backyard date night? You’d be on the back patio with candles and twinkling lights he’d gotten Ned’s help with eating a fancy dinner he made for you both.
It would just be really cute and heartfelt and he’d start by thanking you for all the times you had been by his side and supported him, even the times he felt that he didn’t deserve the unwavering support you gave. He’d talk about his favorite memories he had with you and tell you how he wanted to make so many more.
He’d tell you he’s had to make a lot of difficult decisions in his life, but you’re the easiest one. He wants forever with you. What do you say?
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I Bet You Think About Me (Tony's Version)
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader
Word count: 1k-ish
Tags: Angst
Inspiration: I Bet You Think About Me (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift, lyrics bolded and italicized belong to Taylor Swift
3 a.m. and I'm still awake, I'll bet you're just fine
Fast asleep in your city that's better than mine
You laid in bed next to Tony, as he lightly snored, the noise filling the room of his bedroom in the penthouse he had just moved you into. You had been comfortable in your own place in Brooklyn, but it wasn't up to Tony's standards. At first, when the move-in talk began, his reasonings were "you deserve better", and "its not safe there, there was a mugging down the street!" But those remarks, after your refusal, turned into "honey, its embarrassing to me that you live there" and "you really want Happy driving all the way there and back almost every day for you?"
His shame hurt the most.
Brooklyn wasn't good enough for Tony Stark. He wanted someone from Manhattan or New York proper.
So here you were, all moved in and items put away. Living right in downtown New York City was a big change. It was brighter, louder, faster than your little corner of Brooklyn.
You curled to your side, bringing your legs to your chest and curling your arms around them to be in a position reminiscent of a fetal position. You allowed yourself to focus on Tony's breathing, thinking it would calm you. Instead, it made you more aware of the juxtaposition of Tony's comfort and your weight of shame and sadness.
But reality crept in, you said we're too different
You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes
"I want to go back to school, and try to start my own business", you told him one night over dinner. He choked on his expensive wine you didn't even know how to pronounce the name of, which at first you thought was an accident until the choking sounds morphed into laughter. He was laughing at your goal. It was funny to him.
Your heartbreak must have began to show on your face before you could school your expression into indifference. His cold hand reached across the table and grabbed yours, sending a chill up your arm from the temperature difference.
"Sweetheart, there's no reason for you to work. And business starting doesn't usually work out for people like you," he said as he sipped his wine once more.
"People like me?" You asked, not understanding and laughing awkwardly, trying to get rid of the tenseness that had begun enveloping the room.
In response, he rolled his eyes a bit and gave a condescending smile before chuckling and saying "Average people, darling. Business starting only works out for people with a way in, with some ingenious ideas."
Mr. Superior-Thinkin'
Do you have all the space that you need?
"Hey Tony, where are my things?" You asked upon his arrival back to his penthouse after spending the last few hours trying to find where your things had been moved. You assumed that maybe a cleaner had gathered things up to clean and must have moved them to a spare room or something. Nothing prepared you for what was about to happen.
"Oh, I was hoping to avoid this. I thought you'd get the hint and JARVIS could just inform you if you asked anything. Well, this isnt working out. Having you live here with me, its too crowded, too much. We're too different, its better to end things now." He told you, avoiding eye contact as he hung his suit jacket in the coat closet and took off his tie from the day of meetings he had.
"Its better to end things? You knew how different we were. I gave up everything for you. I gave you everything I had. Everything." You cried, eyes blurring with tears. At this, he snorted with a small laugh.
Everything? He asked with a chuckle, pouring some scotch into a glass. What have you possibly given me? It's been me doing the giving, dollface.
This broke your heart even more. He didn't even remember?
"Tony, I gave you my first, I gave you my heart and soul and body and you don't even remember?" You ask, in sobs.
"Listen, you were bound to lose it sometime, and we don't live in fairytales, it doesn't always work out" he said crassly.
You sobbed openly at his callousness. He was unaffected. He turned to walk to the bedroom you once called yours too, calling to you over his shoulder.
"I was able to get your old apartment back for you, I paid the security deposit and three months rent to give you some time to find a job again and as thanks for our time together. I'll see you around, maybe," he said loud enough for you to hear as he walked into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.
A thanks for your time together? Some kind of thank you, you thought to yourself as you wiped the tears off your face and gathered your coat and purse to return to the apartment in Brooklyn that was once your home before this disaster.
The voices so loud sayin', "Why did you let her go?"
Does it make you feel sad
That the love that you're lookin' for
Is the love that you had?
It took months for Tony to see his mistakes. He went out, partied, playboyed it up. It wasn't the same as coming home to you. Someone who was so different. Something he once thought was bad. Turns out, it was so much better than being around people like him.
The next time you saw Tony was in the same little coffee shop that you had first met in. He was sitting across from a young woman with long, shiny blonde hair. She was talking, gesturing with her hands along with her words, but he looked overwhelmingly bored. He slowly blinked, picking up his coffee you had no doubt was straight black as it always was, as his eyes met yours over the mug as he took a sip.
You gave a small smile, and ordered your coffee to go, thinking to yourself that not too long ago, that girl had been you. The only difference was for a short time you kept Tony's interest. You just weren't what he thought he wanted for himself.
I bet you think about me.
#tony stark x reader#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark imagine#angst#songfic#i bet you think about me#preciousbarnes fics
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