Well at least someone has room.
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a weak and tortured bucky making sure steve gets to safety first
It’s because Bucky has a habit of letting Steve go first.
—–
1) Always let Steve go first up the stairs, so that you can keep an eye on him. It’s easier to count Steve’s breaths and notice when Steve’s heart does that thing that makes him stop and shake. Much easier to stop and pretend to tie your shoes while you wait, worried, than to realize 2 flights too late that Steve’s no longer with you.
Later: Your limbs are sore and numb from being strapped to a table for 2 days and you’re pretty sure you haven’t eaten and the entire base might be exploding, but when Steve says “let’s go up,” you tell him to go first.
——-
2) Steve’s walk was mostly normal, though he swung his hips in a certain way to compensate for his scoliosis, and that put a special cadence to his stride that you unconsciously match. Even without Steve around you would twist your hip back before swinging your leg forward. Twist, swing, twist, swing.
Later: Steve is leading the way through the forest, and you’re finally used to his height and broad shoulders and that dumb shield, but something still feels wrong. Somehow your pace doesn’t quite match, and you can’t figure out why.
——-
3) Colors don’t work the same with Steve, so always describe unfamiliar objects by their shape and relative location, like that square window past the third door on the left, or the man wearing that unseasonably long coat standing in the corner by the garbage can.
Later: The boys are singing in the other room and you’re at the bar with Steve, trying very hard to get drunk because of course you’ll follow Steve into whatever but that doesn’t mean you have to do it sober. “Steve,” you whisper, “Check out that lady by the door, next to that short thin guy who has his shirt open.“ Steve looks over. “The one in the red dress? That’s Miss Carter.“ You can’t decide what surprises you more – that Steve can see red now, or that he knows her name. So you decide you need another drink.
——-
4) When walking down a narrow dark alleyway always stay on the right, because Steve’s bad ear makes the right side feel blind to him (though damn if Steve’d ever admit that). On broad open streets, switch to Steve’s left side, so that Steve could hear you better through the noise.
Later: Dum-Dum gives you a weird look as you line up to charge into a Hydra base. “Why won’t you take the left flank for a change?“ You start explaining Steve’s bad ear before you remember that he’s not that Steve any more, and that Captain America doesn’t have a bad ear.
——-
5) Stuff in your left pockets are for Steve: the asthma cigarettes that Steve could never afford, a dime for that popcorn that Steve likes, tickets for whatever shindig you’re trying to drag Steve along to. Sometimes you put things there for Steve and totally forget about it, like extra paper and a spare pencil in case Steve wants to doodle. The left side always belongs to Steve.
Later: Steve is awfully quiet by the campfire. You sit down by his good ear and reach into your left pocket. "Hey,” you say, pulling out a news clipping about the war front that featured a lovely photo of Miss Carter. “You read this yet? They think Morita’s a Japanese defector, but the section on Dernier is priceless.”
—————
Still later:
Report on the Winter Soldier reset procedures
After the latest test run, only the following anomalies remain:
A) The asset tends to hug the right walls and not the left, and hesitates for 30 microseconds before climbing stairs. However, he does not hesitate when scaling walls or ladders.
B) When walking unopposed the asset has a characteristic and identifiable stride, which is dropped when he is making a covered approach.
C) The asset communicates via relative locations, often omitting crucial color information. However, he can be commanded to describe the colors of any object in impressive detail.
D) When dressing himself, the asset keeps his knives exclusively on his right side, and his left pockets are underutilized. This may be an effect of continued unfamiliarity with the new left arm.
After extensive field testing, we have determined that these anomalies do not impede the asset from completing his missions, and declare the reset process complete.
——————
(Some habits linger, even when the person is gone.)
[basically the textual partner to the colorblindness comic] [Steve-angst sequel here, happy resolution pseudo-sequel here]
[and now with colorblindness commentary]
valentine
Summary: You're Bucky's neighbor, Bucky is your secret admirer. Valentine's day and a potential date forces him to act.
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Word Count: ~3.9k
Warnings: neighbors to friends to lovers, cheesy, valentines day themes
A/N: This was entirely self indulgent so I hope y'all like it. Please let me know what you think!
It was early summer the first time Bucky caught sight of you in the lobby of his building. You had been standing in the entryway with a cardboard box hitched on your hip as you chatted with the mailman that serviced the building.
It had been hot.
The kind of hot that made him feel like he was drowning, like the heat was under his skin and inside his bones, like it was suctioned sharp and heavy to his lungs in a grip that would never loosen.
And yet none of that would come to compare to the way you would come to make him feel.
He hadn’t known it then, but everything about you would hang inside him like warm summer sun, deep inside his bones, pressed to the inside of his skin.
You would make him feel, when he so often felt nothing, running on autopilot most days.
You would make him feel like –
Like the cling film of shame didn’t always have to stick to him.
Like the ocean of you could drown him under your skin, and he would be happy.
You had reminded him of the jeweled green of trees in bloom, like spring and summer and heat and heart.
why are there so many days?? i feel like we just had a whole day yesterday… they don’t stop
The years start coming and they truly don’t stop coming.
Hi! Can I be added to your tag list please? I love your writing
I’m not really writing much these days. I’m working on turning Empathy into a book so that takes up most of my creative juices.
THE X-FILES | 1.01 — “Pilot” (1993)
Steve and Bucky Flower headers
- Transparent GIF files may not save correctly on mobile, to keep the transparency save on a computer.
- Transparent GIF headers work with any background color
- Thanks to @marvelgirl7 for letting me bug her for an opinion on these
- Please like and reblog if using
Well fuck.
Hi lovely!! 😊 so I was browsing the soft writing prompts and thinking of Bucky and I couldn’t choose between:
being stuck in a closet and they’re too close
AND
resisting the urge to kiss forever and then muttering “fuck it” before kissing
Is there a way you could combine them somehow?? I can’t get that image out of my head 🥵
fuck it.
pairing || Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count || 1,815
summary || Thanks to a little Asgardian liquor, Bucky gets drunk for the first time in almost eighty years. He’s more than willing to engage in a little drunken shenanigans with you.
content || alcohol consumption, Bucky is Drunk and In Love, pining, fluff
a/n || I just adore drunk Bucky, okay? my lil baby
It’s been nearly eighty years since Bucky has been drunk. It isn’t something he would really feel all that upset about normally, but watching everyone else slowly devolve into tipsy giggles stokes a little bit of jealousy in him. He wishes he could actually partake in all the shenanigans - especially when he sees how much fun you’re having.
The alcohol loosens you up, makes you more free with those little touches that drive him crazy with want. Your hand falls to his shoulder as you toss your head back to laugh at some stupid joke he made and it makes pride flutter in his belly. He loves that sound. He would do anything to hear it a million times over. It doesn't take long for you to reach out for him again; you carefully pick a piece of lint from his hair, eyes bright and hyperfocused. You’re just so adorable, clinging to him without hesitation anytime you get unsteady on your feet.
To Bucky’s surprise, Thor offers a solution to his woes - a bottle of Asgardian liquor. Despite the god’s insistence, he really doesn't think it will actually work. The first two shots go down easy, a barely-there burn tingling at the back of his throat. It's warm and subtle, doesn't hit hard like he remembers liquor to, but it brings out that carefree feeling nonetheless. Maybe there's something to this Asgardian liquor after all.
Ok this thots are making me yearn 🥵 So I wonder, do you have any recommendations of werewolf!bucky or a/b/o dynamics??
i don't have any werewolf!bucky recs, and i'm gonna be selfish and rec my own a/b/o stuff: intentional and scent. i can rec some writers that have a/b/o in their masterlist though:
@angrythingstarlight @gotnofucks @angryschnauzer (the dark wolf was so good) @captainamericasbeard @navybrat817
feel free to add more! these are the only ones i can think of right now <3
Thanks so much for the rec!
From Bed to Better
Pairing: Bucky x female reader
Word Count: 1,142
Summary: You and Bucky are on a mission together and when you stop for the night in a small town the inn only has one bed and it’s cold…
Author’s Note: This is for Emma and Miri’s Fanfic Trope Challenge and the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Tropes Weekend. I went with the two tropes: there was only one bed/sharing a bed and huddling for warmth with Bucky. Big thanks for letting me submit this a tad late, really appreciate that and I hope you had the best birthday ever Emma! ❤Thank you both so much for hosting! @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @iwantutobehapppier Thank you all so very much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf
Warnings: some fun fluffs, flirting, teasing, light dirty talk, fingering, smut (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)
Gifs are not mine: Credit for the first and third goes to @jamesbrns , credit for the second goes to @captaincentenarian Thank you so much 🥰
“Wow this room is tiny. Are you sure you’ll fit Buck?” you ask, giggling as he struggles to get his broad shoulders through the doorframe, gun in hand.
You follow behind and drop your bag to the floor, moving around the space and checking for anything that looks unusual. Bucky does the same but he quickly becomes agitated when he bumps his head several times on the low ceiling beams. He flips the gun out of sight and stuffs it into the back of his jeans.
“Maybe I should sit down,” he jokes, plopping himself onto the small bed. “And by the way, I asked for two. This is all they had.”
I will never not reblog a bed sharing trope.
patiently waiting for the bucky version of slow hands *sip*
a/n: i got u, boo. here is bucky’s version of “slow hands”. the title is from Kendrick Lamar’s “Poetic Justice”. 2.5k words, which is long for me these days, WOW.
warnings: masturbation, slight voyeurism, being horny drunk, & a mention of trauma recovery, etc. 18+ only please!
brooklyn after dark masterlist
dark room, perfume*
It takes Bucky about six months before he realizes that for all his body’s success at convalescence, for all its attempts to recalibrate into some facsimile of normalcy, it took a damn long time to notify him of one simple need.
Either traitorous or plain stupid, a portion of his brain suddenly decides to understand that besides breathing, eating, drinking, and sleeping, the next item on his docket to accomplish if he’s truly set on being a real boy is— well… it’s fucking.
I’m absolutely dead.
Longer Than Forever – One of Four
[B. Barnes]
Medieval/Fantasy AU
Summary: You’d heard rumours of him. Terrible stories of horror and brutality, of merciless bloodshed. The Winter Knight was a demon in every way imaginable, and you expect your arranged marriage to him to be no different. However, the truth is far more complicated, and the man you anticipate fearing the most may just be your only solace.
Warnings: Major warnings for a scene with dubious consent, smut, talk of depression, attempted suicide, and attempted assault.
Note: This story was previously posted on another platform!
You keep your eyes down and your head lowered as you’re guided through the Imperial Palace. You’re led by a severe-looking man who tips his nose high as he moves, as if despite his role as a steward, he thought this task beneath him. At your side, your father’s hand is curled gently around your arm, and you’re thankful for the small amount of comfort it lends. In a castle as large and cold as Palais de la Hiver, you would need every comfort you could find.
You already know it would be a hard task, the stoney walls, large echoing rooms and passages, finely furnished, but not enough to hide the sheer level of discomfort the Palace was built to offer. It was entirely different from your family’s cozy manor. Entirely different from anything you’d ever known.
Your family was wealthy, your father owned great stretches of land near the border of the kingdom, but you’d earnt that wealth and land through generations of hard work. Your ancestor’s had been allies with the former ruling empire, they had worked the lands they’d been gifted to sell crops, and their children had made it into a business.
But the former royals had been deposed of many years ago, when you were still a child. Your kingdom had been conquered and now the lands your father owned were the reason you were in your current situation.
Lord Pierce may have extended the offer of an allying marriage between you and one of his loyal knights, but it was never really an offer at all. Lord Pierce was not a man known for his leniency or tolerance of discord. Outwardly, he may never lift a hand himself, but he had spies and agents everywhere and it would only take one misspoken word and entire families would disappear, their land ceased.
Any pretence of choice or power your father held in this situation was just that; pretence.
You’re led into a drawing room of sorts, though it lacked any real amount of recreation, discounting the small chess set in the corner and the bookshelves lining the walls. A fireplace crackles away on the far side, and in the centre of the room two chaise lounges sit opposite one another, a small table between them.
The servant waits for you to be seated before he bows low.
I’m obsessed with this.