Friends (1994 - 2004)
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Fragile Embrace
Author’s note: Bucky is afraid to hug you tightly because of the serum in his system. You sweetly convince him otherwise.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: established relationship, implied smut, fluff, intimacy.
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows across the walls in your bedroom. Bucky sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, his shoulders tense, his hands clasped. He stayed silence, every inch of him hating his strength—the damned serum that felt like a curse.
Across the room, you watched him with concern and understanding. You had seen this struggle in him before, the internal battle he waged against his own abilities. He was afraid to let his true strength show, afraid to be anything other than super gentle with you.
You approached him slowly, your footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. Still, he could hear you. He was a super soldier, he knew the rhythm of your heartbeats inside out, knew the pattern of your breaths. He could also tell that you longed for his hugs—not just simple tender hugs, but the kind that squeezed you tightly, conveying the depth of your love. But every time you had reached out, he had pulled away, a look of agony in his eyes.
He couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down with you. He knew better than anyone what his strength could do, the damage it could cause… A small mishap and he could hurt you, and the mere thought of that broke his heart.
“James,” you said softly, your voice like a gentle breeze, “you don’t have to be afraid. I know you can’t always control your strength, but I trust you, and I trust your love for me.”
He turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes tormented. “Sweetheart, you don’t understand. You don’t understand how serious this is.”
She knelt in front of him, her hands reaching out to cup his face. “Baby, love isn’t about holding back. It’s about trusting each other, even when things are tough. I’d rather take the risk with you than live without your touch.”
“You feel my touch,” he said, his flesh hand slowly caressing her face.
“Yes. You are so very gentle with me.” You smiled and help his metal one. “I’m grateful but there are times when I want you to let go of your restrains and truly feel our love.”
He kissed your hair and closed his eyes. “I cannot let go of my restrains.”
Smiling gently, you rose to straddle his hips, your hands looping around his shoulders. “Not even a tiny little bit? Please? For me?”
He tensed but carefully embraced you, his hands encompassing your waist. “You are a little menace.”
“And don’t you love that?”
He chuckled. “I do love that. I love everything about you.”
“If you love me that much, then hold me tighter, Sergeant.”
“Like this?” His hands moved to cup your ass, squeezing the soft mounds and squeezing her against his hard body.
You hummed pleasantly. “More.”
With a low growl, he embraced your frame with his strong hands and squeezed just a little tighter. His face pained but when he watched you smile and writhe pleasantly on top of him, he relaxed and maintained his grip on you. You leaned down and brushed your lips together in a deep and wet caress. He responded immediately and coaxed your mouth open with a gentle nudge of his tongue, deepening the kiss.
“More,” you whispered against his mouth, your breaths mingling.
“No… sweets, I’m afraid—”
You framed his face, eyes locking onto his. "James Bucky Barnes," you whispered, your voice soothing yet decisive, "you could never hurt me. Your strength is a part of who you are, but it doesn't define our love.” You smiled, your thumb brushing against his unshaven cheek. "With me, you can always let go. I trust you completely."
“How can you be mine?” His breath ghosted over your lips. “How can this perfect softness be mine?”
“The same way you’re mine. You are mine, Barnes.” You traced his hard chest with your fingers. “This perfect man is mine. All mine.”
He looked at you with misty blue eyes. “You’ve quite undone me, sweets.”
“Make love to me,” you whispered, your mouth trailing a path of warmth along his jawline, stopping just shy of his lips. “Not slow and tender. But hard and emotional. I want to feel you. Every part of you.”
You sensed his apprehension at your words, the lingering doubts. But you crashed them with the loving press of your lips against his. With a trembling sigh, he succumbed, rolling you over, his big frame hovering above you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed you down on the mattress.
You keened and he made love to you, holding you strongly, more tightly that he had ever done. It was a start. It was the beginning of your love’s resilience and eagerness to overcome any obstacle together. You found solace in each other's warmth, Bucky’s fear disappearing as he realized that your love was a force more potent than any serum or bionic arm and that he could hold you as close and as tightly as he desired, without ever causing you harm.
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Against All Odds
The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.
Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)
TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial
Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!
The kids on TikTok think that just because he was a classic country singer, Johnny Cash was conservative??? My babies he covered a Nine Inch Nails song in his seventies.
Classic country singers (the majority of which came from poor roots) were always talking about how much The Man sucked because they were taking money from poor rural folk. You’re gonna tell me that’s conservative?? Get outta here.
And somehow on the opposite side of the scale with the same exact opinion the conservative kids say “I like the old country music, because there’s no politics to it” Woodie Guthrie’s got a “this machine kills fascists” sticker on his guitar? You think there’s no politics in 9 to 5 or Folsom Prison Blues?!
For anyone confused there was a sudden and dramatic shift in the country music genre. It used to be a genre fixated on the experiences of people. Lived or common experiences that resonated with the common people. It was music that you listened to and it thrummed in tune to your soul because you had lived it yourself. And a lot of that was about ordinary people getting ground up in the gears of society.
The hyper patriotism, beer, and trucks chimera we have now didn't show up until after 9/11 and the world is lesser for it
Allow me to post the entire lyrics to the Johnny Cash song "Man in Black", released in nineteen goddamn seventy-one and written about why he always wore black onstage:
Well, you wonder why I always dress in black
Why you never see bright colors on my back
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on
I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime
But is there because he's a victim of the times
I wear the black for those who've never read
Or listened to the words that Jesus said
About the road to happiness through love and charity
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me
Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back
Up front there ought to be a man in black
I wear it for the sick and lonely old
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men
And I wear it for the thousands who have died
Believin' that the Lord was on their side
I wear it for another hundred-thousand who have died
Believin' that we all were on their side
Well, there's things that never will be right, I know
And things need changin' everywhere you go
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right
You'll never see me wear a suit of white
Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day
And tell the world that everything's okay
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back
'Til things are brighter, I'm the man in black
That right there is an anti-war, anti-bigot, anti-mass-incarceration, anti-war-on-drugs (Cash was an addict in various stages of recovery who was pissed as hell about how this country treats people with substance issues), eat-the-rich protest song. And it was arguably his signature song, his personal manifesto. Notice that even the Jesus reference, which today would be a signal that the song is about to drop some racist dogwhistles, segues immediately into a line about "the road to happiness through love and charity". As in "Motherfucker, our shared god said love thy neighbor and care for the poor and the outsider, and we both know he didn't fucking stutter." He's throwing shade at self-described Christians who use his religion as a cudgel to beat people with.
Johnny Cash wasn't a conservative. I'm pretty sure if he were alive and in reasonably good health today, he'd knock Jason Aldean's teeth out (or, failing that, write a song so devastatingly memetic about how much Aldean sucks that Aldean would never work in music again).
Johnny Cash was punk rock. He just happened to be punk rock in the body of a country singer.