All The Times You Slept In Bucky's Bed
Summary: In which you’re tired (literally and figuratively) of Bucky waking you up every night with his nightmares so you take matters into your own hands.
Bucky X Reader
Warning: Smut and Fluff
A/N: First reader insert fic that I decided to do for @marvelous-fvcks writing challenge. I had prompt 18 “God, I am too tired for this.”- I’m addicted to reader insert fics now. Expect more in the future.
The first time you slept in Bucky’s bed you had gone three days without much sleep. Your bedroom was right next to his so every noise he made woke you up. It just so happened his consistent nightmares caused him to yell and moan in his sleep which in turn woke you up.
You groaned, head pounding as rest was stolen from you and rolled over. Your eyes found the bright red glow of the alarm clock. You allowed for your eyes to adjust before reading the numbers and groaned once more. 2:36am
You sat up, head aching with the motion, limbs protesting as the desire to remain in bed was overwhelming. You stared longly at your pillow contemplating if you should just give in and go back to sleep and deal with Bucky tomorrow when another cry tore through the air.
“Oh for fucks sakes,” you muttered standing up.
You left your room and found yourself in front of Bucky’s doorway. You knocked, three short raps, before opening it.
“Bucky it’s me.”
He didn’t hear you though, oblivious to the world as he thrashed around the bed. His eyes were screwed up tight, his expression the pinnacle of pain. His hands were clutched in his sheets, twist and tearing the fabric with the strength of his grip.
You cautiously walked over to him, aware he was the Winter Soldier and he might lash out in a moment of disarray. You grabbed his shoulders and shook.
“Bucky wake up.” He didn’t seem to hear you, his whimpering echoing in the room.
You shook him harder and spoke louder. “Bucky wake up!”
He gasped his eyes flying open, the gray hues flying wildly around the room until they stopped on your face. It was like he couldn’t see you and was staring through you. His eyes focused and with it came a ripple of confusion followed by the dawn of realization.
“Y/N s-sorry. Did I wake you?” You never heard him speak with such dubiety before, as if he was uncertain of himself. You breathed in heavily, your ire of interrupted sleep fading. This was not the Bucky you saw during the daytime. That Bucky was somebody who carried himself with a sense of pridefulness and attitude.
This Bucky was a broken and scared man. This was the man who had been tortured by Hydra into becoming a shell. An empty shell for them to forge and utilization. Even tho his form was huge; laying in bed coated in perspiration, his eyes wide and afraid, his limbs trembling, he looked like a small and feeble child.
You let out a breath and motioned at him with your hands. “Scoot over.”
“I’m getting in bed with you,” You said simply. His eyes widened almost comically and he started sputtering. Definitely not the Bucky you knew during the daytime.
He made no movement though, so you huffed impatiently, eyes traveling to the ceiling as if in a silent appeal, “God, I am too tired for this.”
You climbed into his bed and begin nudging him over. Eventually, he got the hint and scooted, allowing you enough room to lay down beside him and throw your arms over his chest.
“What are you-”
You cut him off, shushing him as your fingers found his temple and began a slight massage, “My Ma used to do this for me when I had nightmares. Just relax and go back to sleep.”
It took awhile for his tense body to start to slacken under you and before long his snores are echoing around the room. You let your hands fall and began to stand up from the bed when his body jerked and he let out a sharp hiss. Already the nightmares are starting up once more for him.
You sank back down on the bed and threw your arms around him. In turn, His arms unconsciously came around you too, gripping you tight as if you’re the anchor to the real world that he desperately needed. The whimpering and shivering ceased again and you realized he’s not going to last long unless he’s holding onto something.
Too tired to care you shifted your position to a more comfortable one and closed your eyes. Sleep cane quick and easy to you laying in Bucky’s arms and if you weren’t so exhausted you might have wondered why. But instead, you drifted and slept well into the next day, wrapped up in Bucky’s arms.
The second time you sleep in Bucky’s bed it was the next night. You were up late in your room, filling out paperwork that you had been neglecting for Fury and his nagging was reaching the annoying stage so you sat down in your room at 3pm and kept working well past sunset.
It was nearly midnight when you heard the first strained cry coming from the room next to you. You froze, cocking your head to the side to hear better almost convinced that maybe you just imagined it.
But no; he cried out again and you sighed. You stood, cracking your back in the process, and make your way to his room.
Bucky thrashed around violently this time, a stark contrast from last night. You hesitated, unsure on how exactly to approach him without getting hit or kicked from his flailing limbs. After a few seconds of trying to figure it out, you threw caution to the wind and advanced forward.
“Bucky,” you called out but he didn’t hear. His face contorted in agony and a scream made his way up from his throat; muffled only by his clenched teeth. You stepped forward and called out to him louder this time but just like the night before he didn’t hear you.
‘He’s going to hurt himself,’ you thought and stepped up to the edge of his bed. You leaned forward, bracing yourself on one knee and grabbed his shoulder
“Bucky wake up,” you said, your voice louder than normal as you shook him.
Unlike last night he doesn’t wake up gently. This time he sprung forward, grabbed you, and threw you onto the bed; trapping you beneath him. One hand found itself wrapped around your neck squeezing but not too tightly that you couldn’t breathe. The other hand is pinning both of your wrists above your head.
You let out a shaky breath, “Bucky it’s Y/N.”
You were calm on the outside but on the inside, your heart hammered against your rib cage at a mile a minute. Your brain was a tornado of thoughts, mapping out ways for you to get out of this should the need arise.
He stared at you, his eyes glowing in the moonlight. His eyes didn’t register your existence again just like the night before. He’s still trapped in his nightmare and his brain hasn’t caught up with his consciousness yet. Slowly though the dullness around his pupils ceases and awareness trickles forth as reality settles in.
“Y/N?” He questioned, his grip slacked on your neck and wrist.
“Good morning sunshine,” you grinned, hiding the fact that you were unnerved by his aggression. You slipped your hands from under his and cupped them together, rubbing where he held them in an effort to return the feeling to your extremities.
He jumped off of you, almost like a violent flinch. “Oh God Y/N I’m so sorry I-I didn’t mean-”
You cut him off with a wave of your hand and sat up. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t hurt me.”
He stared at you in disbelief, raking his eyes over your body as if he didn’t trust you and you were hiding some debilitating injury he caused.
You ignored him instead and moved over on the bed to give him enough room to lay down. You patted the bed and grinned at him. He gave you a dubious look and you patted again, firmer this time, encouraging him to join you. Still looking uncertain and a bit confused, he slid under the covers next to you.
You laid down next to him and repeated what you did last night. It took him a little longer than the previous time for your ministrations to relax him and put him to sleep. No doubt he was unnerved by his attack on you.
But soon his frame relaxes and his breath deepens as sleep overcomes him. This time you don’t bother to get out of the bed, instead opting to roll over and fall asleep next to him.
The third time you slept in Bucky’s bed he invited you to.
You raised a delicate eyebrow as he corned you the next night, moving you away from the ears and eyes of everyone else.
His face was flushed a bright red extending down his neck judging by the hue you saw when he pulled at his collar. He wrung his hands together and looked everywhere but you.
“You uh… the past few nights… in my bed,” He tripped over his words, awkwardness filling the every being in his body, which amused you because he reminds you of a pubescent boy attempting to talk to a girl for the first time and not the super soldier trained assassin.
You wondered if he was going to ask you why. Did he think you were in love with him? Was he in love with you and the bed-sharing was sending him mixed signals? Was he not and it was upsetting?
He was still stumbling over his words- God he sounded like Steve- and you were growing impatient wanting him to get to the point.
“Barnes,” you said firmly and he finally stopped long enough to look at you.
“Can you sleep with me again tonight,” he blurted out, his face turning a deeper shade of red, “Because when you’re sleeping next to me for some reason I don’t have any nightmares. It’s just that I swear, I’m not trying to get into your pants. I just feel it would mutually beneficial because neither of us is getting any sleep since my nightmares wake you up and this seems to help. Nothing sexual, I promise. Not that you aren’t attractive enough because you are an incredibly gorgeous-”
“Okay,” you calmly cut off his rambling.
“-Woman… what?” He looked shocked as if he wasn’t expecting that answer.
“Okay,” you repeated.
He breathes out a breath of air and runs his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Alright good. Thank you. For this. I’ll make it up to you somehow. Maybe I can get you some food? What do you like? Pizza? Ice cream? Or would you prefer something more practical like clothes or gun or-”
“Barnes.” You cut him off again.
He chuckles awkwardly, “Right going now.”
He walked past you and joined Steve and Sam at the other side of the room. You followed his every movement, pondering on why you’ve seen a different side of Bucky three times now. This fills your head with unanswered questions.
Maybe he is in love with you. Maybe you just saw him at his most vulnerable and he is not used to that so you tripped him up. Maybe the Bucky you see daily is a mask to hide the fragile mess Hydra left him in. Maybe it’s all of the above or not at all.
You’re burning with questions but the answers don’t matter.
And so that night you crawled into Bucky’s bed before the nightmares have even begun and position yourself next to his body letting sleep wash over you.
It’s been several weeks since you started sleeping in Bucky’s bed, so on the 27th night, you find yourself walking into his room after a mission automatically. Your joints are aching and you’re pretty sure your body is one big massive bruise.
You’re dead on your feet and all you want to do is sleep. You peel off your clothes, shedding all but your shirt and panties before climbing into his bed.
You don’t even consider the implications of sleeping in your underwear next to a man. But Bucky does and that night he doesn’t sleep his eyes glued to your dips and curves.
Every sigh you make sends a pool of want and need to his lower abdomen. And so he spends the entire night awake fighting an internal battle within himself.
When the first signs of light protrude over the horizon he practically sprints out of bed and spends the rest of the day in the gym working off his frustrations.
The 28th time you sleep in Bucky’s bed he’s getting back at you for what you put him through. You had realized of course when you woke up and saw you weren’t wearing pants. You felt bad for the guy but in your defense, you barely knew how to say your name let alone the implication of sleeping in the bed with a man in nothing but your panties. (And a little part of you wonders why it was so automatic to do that)
Still, that night you make sure to wear appropriate attire but it seems Bucky is not ready to forgive you. He’s dressed in only his boxers and nothing else.
You gulp, eyes roaming all over his body. He smirked when he noticed this before patting the bed next to him. “What’s a matter, doll?”
He’s teasing you and you know it. Your breath shuddered as you carefully climbed in next to him and laid down far enough apart that he can’t touch you but close enough that you feel his body heat.
That didn’t seem to be the end of it tho because he turned onto his side and slung his arm over your body.
His fingers brushed against the exposed skin above your pant line, sending a jolt of electricity dancing across your skin. Your senses burst into overdrive and suddenly you’re aware of Bucky.
How his body molds perfectly to yours. The heat radiating off his skin. His breath on the back of your neck making your hair stand on edge.
Everything in you screamed to take him then and there, but you will your breath to even out and your heart to stop slamming in your chest.
Even still, that night you don’t get any sleep.
The next night you both called a truce and slept in shirts and shorts and as far away from each other as possible. Still, the sexual tension remains and it bleeds out of the bedroom and into daily life.
When you’re on missions, training, or even just relaxing the want and need is thick in the air between you two. So much so that the others have started a betting pool to see how long you’ll last. (You pretended not to notice how they conveniently leave an empty space next to him at the dinner table for you to sit that. Or how they’re all suddenly too busy to go on missions with him and volunteer you to go instead.)
It isn’t until the 76th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed that anything happens. That night Tony had hosted a gala and after one too many drinks you found yourself dancing with Bucky and neither of you can keep your hands off each other.
By the time you leave the gala the want and need in your lower abdomen has grown so considerably you barely make it to the elevator before you crashed your lips into him.
He gripped your thighs and pulled you up to wrap your legs around his waist. The elevator opened and he carried you to his room not breaking the feverish kiss between you two.
You made it to his room before he slammed you against his door and attacked your neck. Hands are roaming everywhere between you two. One of his slipped passed the slit in your dress and found itself rubbing your underwear making you moan.
“You’re fucking soak,” he growled.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now,” you confessed and rolled your hips against him. He growled again from the stimulation and carried you to the bed.
Both of your clothes are off before you even know what’s going on and he’s trailing a path of kisses from your chin, down your neck, between your breasts, past your navel, and to your thigh.
You gasped feeling his mouth attack the bundle of nerves you desperately wanted him to touch. Your body is like fire, burning with desire. Your hands fly to his hair when he sticks in two digits and curls them.
“God- fuck,” you can’t even find the words to say. The heat grows in your lower abdomen and with a cry you’re falling over the edge.
When you come down you find him kissing you again, whispering praises to you. You wrapped your legs around his waist again and grind against him, the feeling of longing and want throbbing in your lower abdomen.
“Please Bucky,” you whisper to him and with a kiss, he enters you.
It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It’s like all your senses have been dialed to a thousand. It’s like a supernova exploding in your mind. You’ve had sex before but this is different.
A part of your brain whispers to you wondering why.
But it silences as you feel the heat growing again and you cum with a cry. Bucky follows shortly after, his forehead pressed against yours, his fingers entwined with yours too.
He rolled off and cleaned you off, before settling down next to you. This time you’re both wrapped in each other’s arms and you fall asleep, feeling his lips pressing against the top of your head.
The next morning your brain asks why again while you’re watching him make breakfast (and ignoring the exchanging of money between hands from the rest of the group).
It hits you like a train. You’re in love with him. It’s obvious now that you think about it and you wondered why you never saw it before.
But you keep it to yourself.
Until the 149th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed. He’s injured on a mission and in the med bay and you refused to leave his side. Instead of going back to his room, you climb into the hospital bed next to him and wrap your arms around him.
“What are you doing, the bed would be more comfortable,” he asks.
“I can’t sleep without you there,” you answer.
“Why,” he chuckles.
You hide your face into his neck. “Because I love you, you idiot.”
And then. “Look at me.”
You shake your head.
“Look at me, doll. Please, Y/N,” he pleads.
You hesitate before lifting your head to look at him. Your heart nearly stops at the look of pure happiness and adoration on his face. It takes your breath away.
“You love me?” He whispers, stunned as if he can’t believe it.
You nod your head. “I realized it the night of Tony’s gala.”
“That was so long ago!”
You frown and feel heat creep up to your face. “I… uh didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Y/N, I love you too,” he says. You let out a breath, feeling tears of happiness spring forth before you crush your lips to his. You want to ask him how long and when did he realize but you’re interrupted by Dr. Cho coming into the room and yelling at you for making out with her patient.
It isn’t until the 365th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed that you finally have your answer.
He wakes you up at midnight kissing your shoulders and nudging you with his nose.
“Wake up doll,” he whispers against your skin.
“Mmm Bucky what time is it,” you yawn.
“Why are you waking me up at midnight?”
He straddles your back and lays down, engulfing you in warm. “Because I couldn’t wait to wish you a Happy Anniversary.”
This catches you by surprise and causes you to laugh. “Bucky it’s not our Anniversary.”
“Yes it is, wanna know why?”
“Hmm” you ask closing your eyes again.
“Because a year ago today I was woken up from a nightmare by this girl who I thought was an angel at first. She was so beautiful. And then she crawled in bed with me and I was absolutely positive I had died right there and this was heaven. Right then and there was the moment I knew I was I love with you.” He shifts his body and brings his hand up to your face.
“At that moment I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me Y/N L/N?”
Your eyes shoot open and in front of your face in his hand is a ring. Your eyes are wide as if hardly daring to believe. Your brain has ceased to work, too stunned to remember how to breathe.
You pivot your body and sit up, “Oh my god Bucky.”
The tears start to flow from your face as what can only be described as pure joy is bursting through you.
You manage to nod your head and choke out a small “yes” before he’s holding you and kissing you.
The ring is slipped on your finger and suddenly you picked up and spun around both of you shouting in happiness. The draws the attention of everyone else who bursts in through your door.
“What’s with all the noise,” Steve asks.
You can’t even manage the words and Bucky isn’t paying them any attention, looking at you in his arms. Instead of saying it you hold up your hand with the ring on it.
“Oh my god Y/N!” It’s Natasha that’s first to react and she’s hugging both of you. The rest of the others follow suit congratulating both of you. Champagne is brought out and you’re all celebrating your engagement.
That night nobody gets any sleep.
The 730th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed, it becomes your bed too.
The 1,647th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed is the first night you awake without him there.
Your heart clenches in agony and you sit up, your eyes burning with unshed tears. Your chest is heavy with brokenness and simultaneously you feel hollow and alone.
Your hand finds the spot on the bed where Bucky’s body is supposed to be but it’s empty and cold. He hasn’t been there in a while.
You get out of bed and make your way next door to your old room which you haven’t used in a while. When you open the door your heart stops hammering upon seeing Bucky in the far end of the room.
You moved to him promptly and when you reached him, you put your arms around his chest and laid your head on his back.
His hand came up and cupped yours. “Everything okay doll?”
“Yeah, I just had a nightmare about you,” you muttered against his back.
“I don’t remember now,” you stated, the fear of the nightmare alleviating as you took in Bucky’s scent and warmth and touch.
“What are you doing in here baby,” you ask. He shifts and turns around and kisses your forehead.
“Daydreaming.” He answers.
“About what,” returning one of his kisses. He moves down your chin and neck.
“The future,” he says kneeling in front of you and kissing your swollen belly. “With you and our baby.”
“You’re daydreaming in the nursery when you could be dreaming in bed,” you chuckled. Your hands thread through his hair and he leans into the touch, eyelids fluttering closed.
“Come back to bed baby. We won’t get a full night sleep ever again for the next 18 years. We should relish in it now,” you say and he laughs, following you back to his bedroom.
“I love you Y/N.”
“I love you too.”