crypticavengers:

(yelled when i saw this bucky in cOlOR?, and thank you <<3)

headcanon: bucky in pink

• it started off as a joke
• you told bucky his dark soul needed color in his life
• and he basically gave you a look saying “chALLenGE ACCEPTED”
• it started off small with him changing his boxer briefs from a dark blue to red
• his shirts turning into floral prints, instead of regular solids
• and then you saw something bright
• it was a pink polo in ur rear view
• and you saw long hair
• “son of a bitch…”
• bucky knew you loved pink, it was ur fav color
• he always loved wearing different colors in the 40s but after the whole hydra situation
• he never really had a reason to add color into his wardrobe or life
• sappy to say, color had no meaning to him
• yet you came into his life 
• and holy fuck you were like a rainbow on steroids
• you were the color in his life, the thing that always kept him going
• and when you saw the pink he wore you wanted to cry
• you were so used to his dark t-shirts, and when you saw the bright colored polo in front of you, it was a big step for him
• because the dark shirts kept him hidden 
• and the pink was sO BRIGHT
• it took a lot for him
• he turned around, and saw you.
• “hey doll-”
• it was a matter of seconds before you ran to him, wrapping him in a hug
• “im guessing you like the color”
• “i really fucking love it, and i love you.”
• then you kissed his pink plump lips, and he saw colors
• you brought back color to his life.
• and he was eternally gratefully

sweetboybucky:

omnomsauruswrites:

Cupckes

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Writing prompt: Cupcake for #sweetboybucky1k and @sweetboybucky

Summary: There’s a cupcake fairy abound.

Bucky had come back from a hard mission a couple months ago. His outfit still covered in dirt and someone else’s blood. The mission had gone so poorly that they had been unable to recover any information. He walked into the kitchen late at night but the lights were dimmed as if someone were expecting him. And there on the counter was a cupcake waiting for him with a note that said:

“Bucky, You can’t be sad when holding a cupcake.”

His eyes went from the handwriting to the sprinkle covered cupcake, confused. Who the hell left him a cupcake? He went through a list of names and couldn’t come up with one who baked. Part of him worried it was poisoned but he was hungry so he picked up the cupcake unwrapped and ate it. But kept the note and reread it over and over on his way to his room.

Then it happened again the next month. This time it had been pink and topped with a strawberry.

“Bucky, A cupcake is just a fancy muffin.”

This time he stared at the cupcake long and hard. The first time it had happened he just passed it off. Was someone trying to kill him? He didn’t know how long he had been staring, when a voice popped in. “It’s just a cupcake,” Steve said, taking in his friend, glaring at the cupcake.

“I know what it is?” He grumbled.

“You sure?” Another voice piped in.

“Of course I do, bird brain.”

“Ok, gramps. Whose it from?” Sam replied.

“Doesn’t say.”

“So you have an admirer who can bake, cute!”

“Or I have someone trying to murder me!”

“Why would someone murder you with a cupcake?” Her female voice cut in. “Cupcakes are the best kind of cake.”

His blue eyes moved across the room to her standing there in her pjs, her hair in a ponytail, looking like she was about to crawl into bed. “So you did this?”

“I don’t bake, sweetheart. But whoever it is…” she paused looking at the note, “is smitten with a James Buchanan Barnes.”

He blushed and she grinned.

The third time, he had been coming back from the gym in the morning, after getting in a fight with y/n. He had accidentally pushed her so hard she dented the wall, which caused her to lay him flat on his back, while she raged at him about not trying to kill his teammates and him yelling that If she had a better stance and actually trained it wouldn’t have happened. He watched as her eyes turned dark and she left quickly. He had spent another hour punching the bag in anger. Didn’t she know he just wanted her to be ready.

This time it sat on the table without a note. This time chocolate with chocolate icing. He sighed and picked it up, walking over to the trash can. He was about ready to throw it away when he saw the piece of paper on top.

He put down the cupcake and picked up the note, spreading it out.

“Bucky, Wanna go on a cupcake tour? -y/n”

He stared at, realizing you had lied last month. He went to her room knocking but no answer came. He changed and waited again. Night came and she never showed.

A large crash came startling him awake, Bucky looked at his clock 01:37. He heard a very soft fuck reverberate down the halls. What was she doing up in the middle of the night he wondered?

As he walked down the hall in his sweats, he noticed the kitchen lights were dimmed and a soft whirring sound could be heard with soft pop music. She had her back to him in shorts and a tank top. On her right shoulder was a purple bruise what he assumed was from him pushing her into the wall. She had no knowledge that he was there, concentrating only on whatever she was doing.

He glanced around the kitchen, flour, sugar, eggs…. all the ingredients for cupcakes. “So you are the cupcake fairy?” He said.

He watched how she jumped at his voice. “Fucking shit!” She yelled as she turned to face him.

She had flour on her cheek and a flour handprint on her shorts. “Jesus, Bucky! Don’t do that!” she voiced as she continued whisking.

“What are you doing?” He asked as his eyes went around the countertops.

“Stress baking,” turning her back on him.

“And you do this … often?”

“About once a month.” She poured the ingredients she had been working on into the other bowl.

He sat on the stool and watched her move around the kitchen, measuring ingredients, grating carrots, adding the batter to the cupcake pan. Her eyes never met his and she never continued the conversation he had started.

Whenever, her back was turned, he was reminded of pain he had caused her that morning. When she did finally turn after placing the pan in the oven, her eyes fell back on him. The hardness in them was laced with tiredness and pain. “What do you want, Bucky?” She asked bluntly.

He held her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know …”

“It’s fine. We both were tense this morning.”

She pushed off the counter, walking towards the lounge, when he grabbed her wrist. She stopped and looked at him. “I didn’t know you were the cupcake fairy.”

She shrugged and moved to leave, he held on. “I liked the cupcakes, y/n.”

His fingers went to intertwine with hers, feeling the contrast between his callous ones and her soft ones. “And I’d like to take you on that cupcake tour.”

Her eyes went from his to their hands. “You do?” She whispered softly.

His metal hand went and tilted her chin back up. “I do,” he said with all sincerity.

He watched her eyes soften and her fingers squeeze his. He moved his metal fingers across her cheek dusted with flour. “We’ll call it date.”

Her eyes brighten and a smile crossed her face. She hummed, “That sounds perfect.”

He brought her between his legs. “But for right now I need to know, what the cupcake fairy is making?”

She laughed. “Carrot cake.”

“Vegetables don’t belong in cake, doll.”

She pulled away, “To bad for you Barnes, this cupcake fairy believes they do.”

Ahhh! I love the way you used the prompt in this piece! It’s very sweet, making Bucky cupcakes. He deserves all the cupcakes in the world ☺️

Thank you so much for participating in the challenge! 💗

eurydiceattheriver:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rquested: Yes! 

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of depression, PTSD 

(A/N: lmao the one where Bezza posts for the first time in like 13 years… Working on some stuff that will hopefully be posted soon!) 

---

• It takes a long time for him to trust himself to physically touch you
• Even as his mental health improves, he’s still a little apprehensive about his metal arm
• That arm is so cold and so harsh, it feels wrong to touch someone as soft and warm as you with it
• And also, somewhere a little deeper, he’s afraid you’re disgusted by it
• So when you first start dating, there are a lot of times he wants to reach out and hold you, but he doesn’t because he’s so terrified that you’ll feel the metal on your skin and flinch away from his touch
• But then one day, you surprise him
• You’re walking through the park, and unlike most days for some reason you’re on his left side
• And he wants so badly wants to reach out and hold your hand like a normal fucking boyfriend
• But he’s too scared, he can’t bring himself to do it
• And then the two of you pause by the river to look out at it and you surprise him by reaching out and lacing your fingers with his own
• You seem completely unbothered by the feeling of the metal between your fingers and then you surprise him again
• You bring his hand up to your lips and kiss him knuckles, looking up at him through your lashes
• And damn, if his heart doesn’t nearly beat right out of his chest
• He happily holds your hand the rest of the day, and after that touching you with his metal arm feels a little easier
• He forces himself to make noise when he walks around you so he doesn’t startle you
• Bucky absolutely detests scaring you, even if it’s accidental or as a joke
• Forehead kisses. So many forehead kisses.
• One of his favorite things in the world is to gently cup the back of your neck, pull you close and duck down to kiss your forehead
• Sometimes he’ll just stand there with you for a little while, lips pressed against your skin
• He loves the way your eyes slip closed and you relax into him
• And once he gets over his initial hesitation with holding you, all he wants to do is have you in his arms
• He is also a huge fan of laying spread out on the bed with you on top of his chest
• He likes it when you prop yourself up a little bit to play with his hair or trace the lines of his face
• When you brush your fingertip over his lip, he’ll playfully bite your finger just to watch you giggle
• Bucky can be fucking goofy sometimes and it’s so sweet
• On morning where he doesn’t want you to get up, he’ll simply roll over on top of you
• He’s a big ass man and a super soldier, you sure as hell aren’t going to be able to move him if he doesn’t wanna move
• “Bucky, baby, you have to get up, I have to go.”
• “I’m sorry, Bucky’s not here right now, call back later.”
• “James Barnes, if you don’t get up right now–”
• “I don’t know a James Barnes, do you?”
• He has these like gentle outbursts where he just needs all of your attention
• It can hit at any time and he never quite knows why
• But you’ll be cooking, or reorganizing your bookshelves or working
• And he’ll come over and kind of just hang all over you
• He’ll wrap his arms around you and kiss all over your neck and shoulder and squeeze you close
• “You doing something’ terribly important, darlin’?”
• “No, not terribly.”
• “You wanna come love me for a little bit?”
• “Aw, Buck. I’ll come love you for a very long time.”
• He really likes to go to museums with you
• He likes learning about the simpler developments over the course of history
• Sometimes when you go you’ll tell him things you remember learning in history class
• “I actually did my history fair project on this freshman year of high school, won some scholarship money for it. It’s funny how much I still remember.”
• “Tell me all about it, professor.”
• He gets a little uncomfortable when he sees pictures of himself in musuems
• He gets a little distant and stiff, so you wrap your arms around his waist and lean up to press a kiss to his jaw and say, “I remember learning about you in middle school.”
• His smile is a little tight when he says, “Oh yeah?”
• “Mhm. There was a whole little section about you in my textbook. Whole class made fun of my when I said I thought you were cute.”
• His cheeks turn a little pink and he smiles, leaning down to kiss you and tickles your side because the sound of you laughing always makes him feel better
• He really loves books and movies
• So once a month you’ll do a book exchange
• And when you both finish your books he’ll take you to his favorite little cafe
• And the two of you will talk for hours and hours about the books you read
• And every couple of weeks or so you’ll have movie nights
• You pick a favorite movie from childhood and he’ll pick a movie he’s heard about but never saw
• And you’ll watch them on the couch with lots of wine and popcorn
• Inevitably, you get wine drunk on these nights
• And so he entertains you while you’re intoxicated, somehow never getting annoyed with you
• “I bet you I could beat you in a fight, Buck.”
• “I’m sure you could, slugger.”
• “I’m serious, I’m so tough. I could one hundred percent take you.”
• “And I’m being serious, I believe you. You’d kick my perky ass, baby girl.”
• “Only cause you’d never actually hit me.”
• “Never. Not for anyone or anything.”
• “That’s okay. I don’t really wanna fight you anyway. I’d rather kiss you instead.”
• “What do you know? That’s also my preference.”
• Sex with Bucky takes a little bit of working up to
• He has a lot of insecurities about it
• It’s obviously been a while and he’s so terrified he won’t be able to satisfy you
• And he’s still a little insecure about his body
• He’s got a lot of scars, and the skin where the metal is grafted to his arms isn’t pretty
• He just looks… violent in his mind
• And just like with the metal arm, there’s something that seems so inherently wrong about putting anything that seems so violent near you
• But then you see him shirtless for the first time and instead of seeming repulsed, you kissed every single one of his scars
• You traced the skin at his left shoulder with fluttering fingers and kissed it until he practically melted
• You have this magical way of melting away all of his insecurities and even though he doesn’t understand it, he adores you for it
• Sex with him in the beginning is almost always slow, methodical
• He takes his time with your body because you are the most precious thing in the world
• And even if Bucky hasn’t had sex in a while, one thing he’s had ample practice in is reading body language
• He’s almost more in tune with your body than you are, he knows exactly how and where to touch you to make you come undone
• He loves to admire you, looking at your body and committing every detail to memory
• The patterns of your freckles and moles, the shapes of your tan lines, the baby hairs at the name of your neck, the lines of your palms, the places your body dips and curves
• He’s traced his fingers over every detail, kisses following in his hand’s wake as he whispers how much he loves you into your skin
• Unless, you know, you ask him to pound you into the headboard. Then he’s totally down for that.
• But not at first, and neven too rough. He knows he has to be careful because as much as he loves that his super strength allows him to pick you up and carry you anyway he likes, he also knows he can’t ever forget how much stronger he is than you
• You are literally his whole world, and like… that’s just how it is
• Bucky spent so long being a slave to an awful cause, but then he meets you and it’s like he can see the good in the world again
• You see the bad parts of him and you don’t just try to ignore them, you face them and love them just like the rest of him
• So of course he would do literally anything for you, you deserve that much
• But what’s so beautiful about you is that you never ask him to do anything but be himself
• And very few people have asked so little of him
• So yeah, you are the absolute center of Bucky’s universe and he takes every opportunity to tell you
• “Hey, Y/N?”
• “What’s up, handsome?”
• “You know you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, right?”
• “Stop that. If I fall anymore in love with you, I’m not gonna have room for anything else.”

sgtjbuccky:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2,2k

Summary:  When you speak the three magical words to Bucky, he begins questioning how you can love him when even he doesn’t know who he is and you make sure to tell him exactly who you love. Based on Nikita Gill’s poem “A Thousand Versions of You”

Warning(s): insecure Bucky, sad but sweet Bucky, angsty fluff if that’s a thing, feels!

A/N: written for the sweet Pia’s @abovethesmokestacks Summer Madness writing challenge! My prompt #21 – the Nikita Gill poem, and I hope you enjoy this little piece! thank you for your continuous support, I don’t quite know what I’d do without you! Also, guys I apologize if this isn’t up to par, idk I’m not a hundred percent satisfied! 

Sgtjbuccky Masterlist

“Which me?”

A silence stretched around the living room, etching itself to the corners of your mind, clouding everything you were trying to piece together.

Your lips parted as you slowly shook your head to create a clear path in your mind as to what was happening in front of you. Your hand rested on Bucky’s thigh. His hand began trembling atop of yours when you couldn’t quite seem to understand what had fueled his response.

Keep reading

bucky-at-bedtime:

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: You think there’s an intruder in your apartment – turns out it’s Bucky and embarrassment ensues. 

Warnings: Second-hand embarrassment, whoops. Also nakedness. and making out. It’s wild. 

A/n: I don’t really know what this is but… here you go?? It’s a bit of fun, I promise. Also, this is just a short break from the hiatus while I had inspiration – we’ll see if it stays lmao. 

Wednesday

It was early – not even 7am – but the sun had woken you up, just moments before your alarm. You had hopped into the shower immediately, letting the warm water run across your sore muscles and making an effort to wake up.

You were about to get out, when you thought you heard your front door open.

Through a haze of steam and sleepiness, you sprung into action. At this point in your life, you’d learned to keep a gun in almost every room of your apartment – being an Avenger was wild. You stepped out of the shower, pushing your wet hair back and pulling a towel around yourself, before opening the bottom drawer and pulling out the ‘bathroom gun’.

You left the shower running, hoping the intruder wouldn’t hear you coming as you tiptoed down the hall, gun up in front of you, safety off and fingers hovering above the trigger. You could hear your heart pumping in your ears, knowing it was possible that you were about to walk into a gang of Hydra agents or thugs – once again, being an Avenger? Wild.

Keep reading

whirlybirbs:

bucky struggles to cope with being so… free post-winter soldier. he’s not used to having so much time, so much freedom. for years, he was nothing but an instrument and now he can play any tune he likes and it terrifies him.

something that helps bucky feel a little more at ease is establishing a routine, which he tends to follow kind of religiously.

wake up, run, eat, train, eat, free time, eat, sleep.

on tuesdays and thursdays, he sleeps in and boxes late with steve & sam. wednesday’s are for laundry. on friday nights, he gets pad thai takeout — same place, same order — and watches whatever’s on the history channel until bed.

on days when his schedule changes, even minutely, he struggles. there’s a nagging sense of being out of control and he hates it. it plunges him into a mild panic most of the time and bucky tries his best to right himself on track lest his whole world just…. crumbles, he guesses.

when you come into his life, the adjustment leaves him grappling with the fact that his daily routine and romance just… don’t mesh. at all. being spontaneous brings on a panic like no other with fear of breaking his comfort zone.

so, you settle on the small things. he always sits to your right, always holds your right hand. when he kisses you, he kisses you twice. he has his spot on the couch, his side in bed. wednesday nights, you help him fold his socks. he memorized your pad thai order by heart, has it bought and laid out for you by the time you make your way over to his apartment on fridays.

and sometimes, he doesn’t sleep in. he wakes up early and you two roll in the sheets, locked in bliss and the break in routine isn’t so terrible. he kisses you more than just twice in a row.

one day, he skips boxing to take you to the movies and he’s glowing — he smiles and laughs the entire time and you wonder if he realizes it’s a tuesday.

slowly, bucky is no longer bound to routine. he forgets what it’s like to break down when he loses track of time, he forgets the panic associated with living.

and honestly? he’d break his routine for you any day.

whirlybirbs:

bucky writes.

his backpack is weighed down with journals marred with chicken scratch and inked memories that help him piece together a lived & scattered life — smells that remind him of his mother, names that call unknown faces to mind, songs that bring back the first steps of a jitterbug.

bucky is scared he’s going to forget again.

he’s scared he’s going to forget you.

so, his journals become flooded with your name and your own writing — he lets you doodle in the pages when he eats breakfast some mornings. you write him notes about his how hair looks particularly nice today, about how you’re excited to eat pad thai tonight.

you write lovesick notes to one another. you write him how much you wish you could kiss him every moment of every day; he writes about the softness of your skin and how your laugh make his knees go soft.

he saves these pages.

some days, he draws you. he’s not good, and it doesn’t really look like you, and he get frustrated because he can’t capture how your smile makes him feel inside.

and one day it happens.

his brain flips at the sound of those command words and he comes up from the void half-aware of himself and panicked and he feels like he’s drowning and he dumps out his backpack and he thumbs through the pages of the journals like a mad-man and you’re trying to calm him down and he can’t, because he doesn’t know who he is… and it’s horrible.

he re-learns your smile and the way it makes him feel through the chicken scratch and inked memories.

and that’s why bucky writes.

whyisbuckyso:

domestic!bucky headcanons

• okay so
• domestic bucky would be such a fucking ride
• he’s such a little shit most of the time it’s ridiculous
• he thinks it’s hilarious when he tries to stick his fingers into the sockets of ur house
• “bucKY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING”
• “this is a… shocking sight, is it not?”
• so many dad jokes
• s o m a n y d a d J o k e s
• “what did the buffalo say to his son as he left for college?”
• “bison”
• he proceeds to bust a nut laughing
• he cooks a lot
• has his own apron but will often use yours
• when he’s stressed he tends to make a mess and then clean it up
• he loves inviting his friends over for parties
• ofc everyone thinks they’d pull his leg for cooking so much but they’re actually super supportive
• he’s totally made friends with all the old ladies in the neighborhood and probably likes discussing old TV shows with them
• “not to be rude or anything, maurice but Lucielle Ball is more beautiful than ur husband.”
• “amen sister”
• it’s bucky saying the both of that btw
• he likes feeding the birds that visit his windowsill and often hums to them while giving them food
• total opposite for his plants tho bc he literally is cursing like an army brat saying things like “fuckin’ clingy pieces of shit. when u gonna get ur own crap together huh” while tenderly watering them and caressing them
• he owns succulents for anyone wondering
• when he gets free time from his missions and stuff he’s generally clinging to you when u get back from work
• lots of soft head massages
• rlly positive sticky notes around the house
• “you’re my ray of sunshine ☀”
• “i hope your day makes you as happy as you make me”
• bucky ties his hair into a bun and uses hair bands many times
• he takes a keen interest in finding ways to arrange furniture
• one day when ur so tired that you come home and just walk straight to your bedroom to fall on your bed only to realise that it’s somehow disappeared
• he catches you midway and is half giggling half apologizing when you glare at him
• domestic bucky loves cuddling and nicknames
• he loves cheek kisses more than anything and when things are a little more intimate, he favours lingering forehead kisses
• he talks about his day and your day over dinner and casually mentions that he’d love a daughter or a son
• but he’s in no hurry because he loves you and the way things are at the moment
• did I mention that he probably loves doing mundane things like washing dishes and doing laundry
• makes him feel normal
• sometimes when he’s lonely he skype calls shuri and listens while she roasts him for five minutes straight about how he’s beginning to look like rapunzel
• he defo sends u a bunch of flowers with dumbass notes attached like
• “im proud to be yorchid”
• domestic bucky occasionally has self care days where he takes himself out and gets himself something nice and sends u pictures and it’s so pure
• he loves kids and he loves holding babies
• he loves u
• he loves his birds and his plants and sam’s face when Bucky whispers “Cannibal” when he’s eating a turkey sandwich
• he loves being happy
• he also likes chocolate chip cookies

hcwlingccmmandcs:

Thanks so much for sending in a request! Also, that song has a special spot in my heart, thank you for sending it to me. 

Warning: contains mentioned nudity (No smut, though. They just take a bath.)

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“Doll?” your boyfriend called, a certain softness in his voice. 

“Yes, Buck?”

“Will you join me?” he asks, motioning to the bath you drew up for him still fizzing from the salts you added. You had been pampering him all morning since you noticed his skin was getting pocky and his hair was splitting. He looked at you, smiling softly.

You nodded to him, returning the grin and walking closer to him. You helped him untie his robe and shrug it off before he aided you in undressing. You sunk into the water first, letting him settle in between your legs with his back resting on your chest. 

He sighed blissfully, relaxing into your body as the warm water soothed his muscles. You reach up to his soft hair, gently scratching his scalp, earning a low hum from him. 

After a while, just laying in the water, you start to sing to him. 

“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine,” you sang quietly, not trying to disturb his peace but attempting to make him feel even better. “You make me happy when skies are grey. Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Bucky shifts just a little, resting his head in the soft spot between your shoulder and your chest. “Again, baby. Sing it again,” he murmurs, and you imagine his beautiful eyes are closed. You oblige him, gently kissing the top of his head before repeating the song again.

“You are my sunshine. My only sunshine…”

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Want a drabble? Click here!

whirlybirbs:

      —— dumb, sweet, post-first-date-fluff for bucky x reader! enjoy!

You can’t say no to him.

Really, you can’t.

Bucky toes the cement floor of the foyer outside your quarters; the hallway of the forty-fifth floor of Stark Tower is empty save for you and him.

He looks so out of place.

He’s bulky in the doorway. His vibranium shoulder is whirring quietly beneath his dark sweater – and, when he moves from foot to foot, eyes swimming around your face, you have to hide a smile with a bashful duck of your head. You nudge his steel-toed boot with your kicks, enjoying the closeness of the moment. He’s handsome and you think so and you don’t hide it anymore.

“I had fun.”

“Me too.”

There’s a beat of a moment where his Adam’s apple bobs and cold fingers twitch in his pockets. He’s thinking about reaching out and touching you – but, years of terror-formed habits keeps him back. 

Your fingers breach the space between you both, fingers looping into the front of his sweater as you try and anchor yourself in the glow of the post-date haze. He meets the touch with cold fingers. 

“We should do it again,” you suggest, “I’ll pay.”

“Only if we get milkshakes again.”

“Deal.”

You smile and it’s dizzying; he feels like a wolf howling at the moon in the moment, rooted to his spot and devoted. The moment feels like home and Bucky hasn’t thought about anything terrible in hours and his bones don’t ache and he isn’t that other half of him. He’s himself, and he’s happy. 

And you’re beautiful.

“So…” Bucky says, finally, words dripping like honey, “Do I get a goodnight kiss?”

You’re hung on the sound of the question. Your eyes are stuck on the way he says the words, the way his lips move. You have to drag yourself out of his orbit for a moment and remind yourself to breathe. 

If he was the sun, you’d fling yourself in screaming Icarus. 

“How could I say no to that?”

You’re not sure, and Bucky’s glad you don’t.

He steps, posture bending to catch you in a tentative pull of the lips – he smells like cologne and wine and motorcycle oil and it’s intoxicating enough to drag you in farther. You press your fingers into his sweater, hands finding his, and your back finds the door frame. 

The kiss carries itself away quickly. Noses brush and tongues touch and his beard scratches your cheek as he nips and tugs kisses along your bottom lip. His hands, one ice and one fire, are rooted along your jaw – his hips brush yours and you grin. 

Bucky, for the first time in what feels like forever, isn’t afraid he’s going to break you or hurt you or kill you because you’re so suddenly everything. Your touch is gentle, and you coax him back down to Earth with a smile pressed to his mouth. 

He laughs – breathless and nervous – before righting himself and stepping back. The kiss leaves him needing to readjust. He pushes a hand through his hair.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you say with a cheeky smirk, “It was a good kiss.”

“Good enough to have another…?”

You can’t say no, and Bucky’s glad you don’t.