#Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug

[burberrycanary]

End of Year Stucky Picks #1

Stucky as a fandom is lucky to have a lot of classics and I rediscovered some old favorites this year!

Title: Malibu

Author: glitteratiglue​​ / @glitteratiglue

Summary:

Steve believes Bucky is dead for exactly a week. Then he doesn't.

(AU where Steve rescues Bucky before Hydra can turn him into the Winter Soldier. They get to go home from the war, but that's only the start.)

—

Part of what fascinates me about Steve and Bucky's story is that there are no possible endings that are entirely happy, not in their original time and not in our own. It's a maddening puzzle. But this story comes close, giving them an earned, authentic ending where they find some peace and each other. The author has a deft touch with period details and the mid-century Californian setting does some effective work here. And, look, let's be honest: I'm a sucker for Steve pining. But I'm even more of a sucker for stories that make both Steve and Bucky complicated, interesting people who, while mutually devoted, have lives outside of the other. - B.

Art: Eve McBride, Hollywood Beach Broadwalk

[spookfox-cosplay]

Hey, look, I decided to post my Winter Soldier cosplay here. I really like it. And I thought you might like it too. Bye😘

[zachoncrach]

if I may.

belongs to

[brattypagansub]

The misadventures of Alpine and why she’s in air jail once again.

One of these days Alpine’s vet is going to call the ASPCA on him

While normally Bucky’s whole world as a single cat dad that is. Alpine is a princess but the incidents just keep up coming. Here’s another list of reasons why Bucky’s furry little ninja tests his sanity.

Got into his art room and decided to recreate the scales and arpeggios scene from The Aristocats

Knocked the mug Nat got him off the coffee table

Chewed through the wiring on his fairy lights and got electrocuted

Un-alived his favorite house plant by knocking it pot and all off the shelf

An entire row of dark romance books got knocked off his shelf

Jumped from her cat tree into the window because she saw a bird

Jumped from the table flew across his pottery wheel and crash landed into his clay tub (Bucky wished he’d video tapped it for tiktok)

Tripped Bucky up who fell down the basement stairs to avoid landing on her because she couldn’t wait two seconds for him to feed her.

Nearly got put through the heat cycle because he didn’t see her climb into the dryer

Freaked out and trashed his bathroom because she fell into the bath while practicing her parkour

Knocked over his stack of work papers freaked out at the sound and shredded them in her fury

Knocked his hair dryer over and nearly under faucet stream

Scratched the shit out of Bucky’s back because she decided to park herself right where he’d been sitting. (He’d answered a work call and didn’t see where she was when he sat back down.)

Almost knocked over the k-cup machine

Singed her tail because she got up onto Bucky’s pagan/witch altar and he didn’t see her (he was too busy looking for his crystals.)

Thought his simmer pot was just another water bowl and drank from it on the stove (she burnt her tongue)

Broke her paw when she jumped from the shed attic and crash landed in the gardening tools.

Went twelve rounds with the angry raccoon that lives in his bushes and almost lost

Bucky is honestly surprised Alpine has lived this long

[luna-rainbow]

Sorry to the 4 people who already voted I was unhappy with one of the options and couldn’t change it 🙈

[darthbloodorange]

Rations

Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers Warnings: None Major Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, World War II, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers's Metabolism, Hungry Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers vs the Super Soldier Serum Word count: 100 - Drabble

Summery: Steve and Bucky get something to eat after returning to camp.

For the: ✦ Stucky Bingo - IMAGE: Steve and Bucky after the POW rescue [G4] (Card: 5054)

Read below or on AO3 >HERE<

He spent who knows how long in Hydra's grasp, starving, and yet he couldn't work up an appetite to eat his rations. 

Bucky sighs, pushing the rations around in its tin. "Do you think there's actually egg in the 'Egg and Ham', or do they just say that to make you feel better about the texture?" he asks, turning to Steve. 

Steve looks up from opening the third(!) pack they had given him. All his rubbish looked licked clean.

Bucky shudders, "Serum must've killed your taste..." he tries joking.

"Taste's nothing t'do with it," Steve says, shrinking, "M'just real hungry."

THE END

Sort of inspired by Bucky's comment "You don't have one of those do you?" when Red Skull tore off his face. I thought Bucky seeing Steve eagerly eating his rations and asking "Did the serum take your sense of taste?" would be a funny continuation. Then I thought he'd be horrified for Steve when he learns about the change to his metabolism (He'd likely be horrified by a lot of the serum's changes to Steve.)

Why isn't Bucky as hungry? Well, I like to headcanon that Steve and Bucky have two very different serums. The version given to Red Skull was unfinished and unrefined.

The one given to Steve was next to perfect, and Hydra failed to get it. The one given to Bucky likely was based on Red Skull's serum, whatever notes they could get from Erksine and Zola's experimentation. (I don't know if Bucky grew taller like Steve did?) But for being the Winter Soldier I think it would be an asset for Bucky to be super-efficient at extracting what he needs from food and going a long time without (Kind of makes the Winter Soldier a little scarier. He will outwait you. You will die of hunger and thirst before he does.)

[miharuwrites]

Anyone up for language struggles?

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” I finally admitted. “You’re not speaking in English.”

His nose scrunched in frustration. He spoke to himself, sounding out words, switching between this new language and Russian to make sentences. Then from Russian came broken, rough-sounding English that switched back every few words.

He stood, aggravated with the delay, and set to pacing. The tone of his voice became angrier as he struggled to place the words he was practicing into English. He looked through his cards, clearly understanding their contents, but struggled to say them aloud in anything but a mishmash of languages.

“Is alright. Maybe… Maybe you need a break from English too. Maybe it isn’t your first language. The lines are blurring,” I said, trying to soothe his increasing frustration.

“It has… что-то сказать. Hard… Bad memorie.”

“Bad memories?”

“да!” he shouted. “Is… cum se spune… pain. Very painful.”

[stressedbuttrying]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Feels, POV Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Past Torture, Past Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, It's Bucky You Know Why You're Here, No Smut, Night Terrors, Asexuality Spectrum, Aromantic Asexual Bucky Barnes, Touch-Starved Bucky Barnes Summary:

Set sometime between Chapter 7 and 8 of my work "The World Keeps Changing".

Cookie finds Bucky late at night in the midst of a PTSD episode. Told from Bucky's POV.

[burberrycanary]

End of Year Stucky Picks #3

Stucky as a fandom is lucky to have a lot of classics and I rediscovered some old favorites this year!

Title: When the Season Comes Around

Author: theheartischill / @prettyboysdontlookatexplosions

Summary:

The other problem is that Steve loves him, and Bucky isn't sure he remembers how to love.

—

A great post-WS recovery fic that ends up feeling like an examination of the human condition. The storytelling is thoughtful, well-paced and with a lot of earned catharsis as Steve and Bucky slowly confront what the world has done to them, how to start healing and what they need to learn how to carry, even if the load is heavy, in order to come back to each other. Theheartischill really gets at how life is shockingly beautiful and shockingly unjust—and that the one doesn't have much to do with the other even if our moral intuition would want it otherwise. How do you find the strength to keep going is a big question that lies at the heart of what makes these two characters so fascinating. If you're not a fan of certain reductive codependency tendencies in post-WS recovery fics, just trust me on this one. Highly recommended. - B.

Art: William Herbert Hampton, Bombsite

[nessieart]

TEETH pt. 17

WC: 4.6k

So sorry this took a million years to get out. I’ve been so stuck where I wanted this to go, so. Here we are! Please enjoy!

—

Masterlist

Previous | Next

The next week goes by in a blur, as you get used to being in the Tower.  Pepper left the next morning after the D.C. footage revelation, heading back to Stark Industries in California for a few meetings.  She promised a lunch date when she returned, giving you a tight hug before she left.

The week spent in the Tower around Tony, you realized he and Bruce were almost always in the lab together.  When Bruce managed to get Tony out of the lab long enough for him to rest, they both always returned to the floor, where they all shared dinner.  Tony claimed it was just easier this way since the top few floors and penthouse were still undergoing minor construction from the Battle of New York.

You awoke to the feeling of lips pressing along the side of your face, trailing down from your cheek to your jawline, to your neck, then a lingering press to your shoulder.  You sighed, the fight to stay asleep fading when arms wrapped around your middle to pull you back against a solid, warm body. 

It was still early, you could tell, the sun barely peeking above the horizon when you squinted an eye open.  You shifted back against Tony and cuddled closer, sighing again.

"It's early," you croaked out, sleep evident in your voice.  You turned your head to look at Tony over your shoulder, his nose poked into your cheek, and he nuzzled into you more.

"Sorry," he squeezed you a little closer, "Pepper needs me to fly out to London for a meeting she can't make," Tony dropped his head to your shoulder and sighed. "I forgot I told her I'd go until J reminded me."

You turned over to face Tony, taking in his appearance now. He still wore the old band tee from yesterday, his jeans were still on, and the bags under his eyes were evidence enough. You brought a hand to his cheek and could feel the stubble of his unshaved face under your palm.

"I know what you're going to say," he brought a hand up to cover yours and kissed your palm.  "But I can sleep on the jet," he shrugged a little.  You went to protest, mouth opening with a retort on the tip of your tongue when he kissed you.  Effectively silencing anything you had to say.  He pulled away after a moment, and you went to chase his lips. He chuckled lightly. 

"I'll be back tomorrow," Tony shuffled out of bed, then leaned over again to peck your lips at the pout you gave him.  "Brucie is also away for a few days, something about a conference or…something," he waved a dismissive hand in the air, "JARVIS probably knows."

You whined when he stood up away from the bed, making little grabby hands at him.  Tony laughed lightly, the sound filling your insides with a warm, gooey feeling. It made your heart happy to see him carefree and happy.  He removed his shirt in one swift motion and tossed it onto your face.  You inhaled his familiar scent and slipped the shirt over your head after discarding the one you were in.

Tony disappeared into the closet, and a few moments later, he returned in another band shirt, this one clean at least.  The faded Rolling Stones logo on the shirt made you wonder how long he actually had these shirts. 

"The full moon is in two days," you remind him, stretching wide on the newly vacated bed.  Tony's eyes briefly flash with concern before he schools his expression. "Just reminding you," you tell him.

He nods, thinking, “Well the Wreck-it room is all yours,” he gives you a small smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  Tony’s brows furrow for a moment as he gazes at you. “I’ll miss you,” he says softly.  You smile up at him and roll towards him to the edge of the bed, getting up on your knees and placing your hands on his chest.

“I’ll miss you too, Tony,” Your hands slide up to his neck, and your fingers weave into his hair.  Spending the past week with Tony was nice. Though you didn't understand half of what he and Bruce talked about in the lab, it still felt perfect to be around him.

Maybe it had to do with being around your mate that made you feel whole. There was never a sense of wanting to run or keep yourself on the move. 

A content sigh left your lips when Tony brought his forehead to rest on yours. One of his hands on your waist and the other pressed between your shoulder blades to keep you close.  

His nose nudged yours before he spoke, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

You rolled your eyes, "That's a very short list.  I'm sure you'd do just about any--mmff," Tony cuts you off with a sweet kiss, muffling the rest of your sentence into his mouth.  You hum, gripping the hair at the base of his neck a little tighter.  The hand on your waist grips you a little harder as he deepens the kiss, licking into your mouth with fervor. 

Tony pulls away after a minute to catch his breath, chest heaving to take in air.  You pepper kisses along his jaw and down his throat, grazing ever so slightly with your teeth, your fangs extending at the thought of biting him, marking him as yours.

There's a sharp tug to your hair, and you're forced to look up at Tony with hooded, glowing eyes.

"I thought we agreed on no biting, honey?" He husks out between pants. He licks his lips, and you track the motion, a sly grin pulling at your lips.

You could easily get out of his grip, but you like him, thinking he can handle you a little longer.

"I just think," you lean in again and lick a stripe up his neck, "you might need my mark on you," you nip his throat again, and his breath hitches. "Can't have others think you don't belong to me.  That you don’t belong with me." There's a slight growl at the end in your voice, and you can feel Tony shiver.

You attach your lips to the crook of his neck where it meets his shoulder and bite.  It's not hard enough to break skin, but just enough to let him know you mean it.  Tony pants heavily, the hand in your hair moving to keep you to him and the other wraps around your waist.  You're almost positive you hear him whimper a yes, and you're about to bite down to finally put your mark on him -

Sir, the quinjet has arrived.  It is waiting for you so you can head to London.

A growl rips through you, and you glare at the ceiling. Tony slumps against you, and his head is buried in your neck.  You smooth his hair back and look at your handiwork.  Pride wells up in you at the indents on his neck.  A small bruise forming around the area of fine teeth marks.  It's not the mark you wanted on him, but it should last until he gets back to you.  Your thumb trails over the edges of your mark, and Tony shivers again.

A pleased hum fills your chest, "This will do, for now.  Mate," you smirk at him when he stands up to his full height, a playful glare on his face.  His hands squeeze your hips before he backs away. A hand goes through his messy hair as he tries to compose himself. 

Tony huffs, his fingers lightly brush the teeth marks on his shoulder, and you can almost feel it, a tingling running up your spine and your eyes flash again.  He puts a hand up against your forehead when you go to lean in again and shakes his head.

"No, no more of that, I don't think I could take it," then he cups your cheek and gives you a quick kiss.  "But I really do need to go," you nod, the smirk still on your face.  "I'm going now," one more peck.  Your hands squeeze his wrists as he backs away.

Tony pulls something out of his back pocket and holds it out to you, “Had this sent up for you,” You take the proffered item. It’s a sleek palm sized rectangle. The Stark Industries logo is on the back, and you look up at Tony with a confused look. 

“It’s new, hasn’t hit the market yet,” he taps the front, and it lights up, a screen coming into view with small buttons.  “StarkPhone; everyone important is already in there.”  Tony smiles at the tilt of your head, “Pepper, Happy, Bruce, me.  I may have put a certain Star-Spangled Man in there as well.”

Your eyes light up. You haven’t talked to Steve since you left D.C.

“Thanks, Tony.  Though I do have the watch you gave me, too,” and you turn your wrist over, and the watch also lights up with the time, a light blue backlight coming on as it activates.

He shrugs, “Well, now you have the phone!”  He pecks your nose and begins to leave the room.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," you tease him.  Tony laughs loudly as he leaves the room, the sound echoing down the hall.

-*-

The gentle breeze ruffling the leaves above your head is sweet. The smell of spring giving way to Summer is evident in the sun shining through the leaves.  You’ve been spending a few hours in the park since arriving in New York, and it makes you feel content, getting out of the confines of the Tower.  But you don’t mind spending the time inside when Tony is around.

You spent most of the morning in the park, after Tony left, lazing around between the sun and the shade.  Right now, your back is pressed to a big oak tree, the earthy smell of the bark filling your nose as the wind changes directions.  It’s peaceful and calm.

As the wind picks up speed, you smell it.  The odd scent, but you swear you know it. It makes you sit up right.  The hair on your arms stand on end, and a shiver runs up your spine and over your shoulders.

It smells like woodsmoke and fresh mint leaves, something sharp and tangy.  You stand up swiftly and turn into the wind, sniffing the air and scanning the trees.  The wind blows again, and the sun shines between the leaves and catches on silver blue eyes and a gleam of metal by his hip.  You perk up and raise a hand in greeting, a tentative smile on your face.  He seems hesitant, eyebrows creasing together in concern as he takes a step back to be covered by a tree more.  When you go to step closer, he doesn’t move, so you scan the area around you before heading into the thicker part of the wooded area towards him.  He’s standing on the other side of the tree from you, and you give him that space.

You smile up at him, “Hi, James,” you say softly into the woods.  His eyes scan your face like he’s trying to remember your name or remember your features.  "Do you remember me?" You feel like you ask him that a lot, but to be fair, he's had his memories wiped for the last 60 or so odd years. 

Bucky nods once. It's hesitant, but you'll take it.

"Do you know who you are?" 

His brows crease again, "I- think so," he then pulls out some folded and wrinkled paper from his back pocket.  He gives it a flip in his hands and then shoves it in your direction. When you step forward to take the paper, the wind shifts again and blows toward Bucky.  He inhales deeply, "Petals.  Of flowers. Dewey grass," you tilt your head at him, and his eyes focus on yours.  "You," he says quietly and then lets go of the papers to let you have them.

"My family called me Flowers growing up," you tell him as you open the wrinkled bits of paper.  There's scribbles on newspaper clippings, magazine cutouts, and a brochure from the Captain America exhibit.  "My twin -who you briefly met last week - smells like–,"

"Sunshine and cut grass," Bucky finishes for you, and you look up at him, surprised. He shrugs his left shoulder slightly.

"Well, anyway," you wave a hand in the air, "we all called him Sunny.  I'm surprised you and Steve can smell me.  Are you positive that stuff running through your veins isn't like, werewolf blood or something?" You laugh a little as you absently shuffle through the clippings.  Most of them are of Steve, and some of them are of the Avengers, images from the Battle of New York, or candid photos of them out and about. 

"Maybe the 'super' in that serum is for 'Supernatural'," you chuckle again.  You're joking, sort of, just making conversation as you read.

The scribbles along the papers are haphazardly done, incoherent thoughts written down in pen, some words scribbled out, some words not even in English.  In the Smithsonian pamphlet, there's a section on Bucky Barnes, and that has the most writing out of everything in your hands.  Questions about who he was and who he is now; no answers for either you can find.  It's silent as you read his incoherent thoughts, and then you look up at Bucky and notice he's gone completely still.  Eyes wide as he looks down at you.

Your head tilts, "You okay?" Your eyes scan his face, and he shakes his head a little, eyes refocusing on you, blinking owlishly.

He clears his throat and swallows thickly.  A small nod.  He shifts from foot to foot.  You hand the papers back to Bucky, giving him a small smile.

“Have you seen Steve since, y’know?”  Bucky shakes his head vehemently, eyes wide again.  “Okay,” you look him up and down now, taking in his appearance.  He’s in baggy jeans, his combat boots, a hoodie a size too small, and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.  His eyes look sunken and haunted, and the bags under them let you know he probably hasn’t slept in a week.  His cheeks are shallow, making his cheekbones and jawline stand out more, his hair is greasy and stringy.

"He could probably help you more than I could," you mumble.  But you're sure he's heard you. His head tilts to the side.

“Come back to the Tower with me,” you blurt out.  Giving him a hopeful look.  Bucky makes a noise of protest, shaking his head no at you.  “It’s just me, Tony is out of town, and so is Bruce.  No one will see you or even know you were there.  You can shower, and I’ll get you fresh clothes.  Maybe something to eat?  You can sleep. It looks like you need it,” Your words come out quickly, trying to persuade him to come with you.

Bucky’s left arm whirs, his fists clenching and unclenching.  He worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment.  A heavy sigh leaves him out his nose, and he drops his head, chin to chest, and he gives a small ‘ok’ before he looks back up at you.  You beam up at him, a big smile on your face, and he tries really hard not to return it.

You grab his metal hand without thinking and pull him along to follow you, a spring in your step as you go.  On the way out of Central Park, you quietly talk to Bucky, telling him about your time in the Tower the last week and spending time with Tony.  He listens silently, only nodding along when you look up at him, your hand still holding his.

-*-

When you reach the Tower, you go down an alley instead of to the front doors.  You bring the watch up into view and tap it twice.

"Hey, J, I'm gonna need the back entrance.  And be discreet."  There's a small chime of affirmation and the metal doors a few feet from you click, and you open them.

The doors lead into a hallway, vacant and sparsely lit. There's an elevator bank not too far, and you hit the call button. Within seconds, the doors open, and you pull Bucky inside, hit the button with your floor, and wait. 

Bucky's silent as you both ascend, his eyebrows drawn together like he's thinking, staring blankly at you.

When the elevator chimes next, the door opens, and you pull Bucky behind you. The elevator is on the opposite side of the room of ones you usually take.

Bucky is tense as you lead him through the space. He's taking everything in as you bring him to a set of doors and push them open.  It's a large bathroom, dual vanity with a counter to ceiling mirror, bright lights that dim a little, a walk-in shower big enough for Hulk, and a giant stand-alone tub. You let go of Bucky's hand as you flit around the room, pulling soaps and shampoo from a cabinet, fluffy gray towels from another.

You set the water to hot, pouring in a lavender soap that bubbles up and fills the room with a sweet scent.  Then you put the towels into a basket, the warmer turning on as soon as you close the lid.

When you finally turn towards Bucky, you can see his shoulders are tense. He's looking down at his feet, hands clenched into fists at his side.  You step up to him and put a hand on his. He looks up at you with wide, frightful eyes. 

You give him a small smile, "it's just us here, James.  You can take all the time you need.  I'll bring you fresh clothes in a minute," you step back and close a partition that separates the tub from prying eyes. 

"If you need me, I'll be right outside.  I'll hear you," you give him another smile and go to leave.  You hear him give a quiet 'thank you', and you close the door.

-*-

Bucky had spent a long time in the bath, at least an hour after you brought him a new change of clothes.  He probably needed it more than he thought.  You could hear his audible sigh of relief when he did sink into the hot water beneath the bubbles, and it brought a smile to your face.

You were rearranging the couch cushions and blankets when you smelled the fresh scent of woodsmoke, mint, and now lavender come into the room.  You stood and faced Bucky as he shuffled on his feet, shoulders pulled up tight by his ears.

The jeans you gave him were a little snug but fit him better than the others. A borrowed red Henley from Bruce was a tight fit, but you doubt Bucky would fit into anything else. The plain zip-up hoodie you found was gripped tight in his left hand, the same combat boots adorn his feet.

Bucky stood awkward in the living space, eyebrows drawn together as he stared at you. He was as big as a bear but somehow made himself seem small under your gaze.

"I made sandwiches," you tell him, gesturing to the coffee table behind you.  He perks up a little bit, eyes bright. He takes a hesitant step forward and then another until he's standing at the end of the large couch.  You take a seat in the middle of the blankets you just arranged, feet tucked under you as you wait.  When he doesn't make a move, you pat the cushion next to you, giving him a reassuring smile.

Bucky sits rigid next to you, hands balled into fists on his knees.  You grab a sandwich and one for him, too. He takes it from you with a small nod and waits for you to start eating before he does the same.

He makes a small noise in the back of his throat, a sound that chokes, a sound of held back elation. And before you know it, he's finished the sandwich before you could take another bite.

His waterline is wet when he looks over at you, and you hand him your sandwich and grab another one.

"You can eat as much as you want," "There's plenty of food," you tell him between chews.  He's had two more before you could finish one, and it makes you chuckle.

-*-

You were warm. The last thing you remember was being content and sleepy.  Now you were warm and wrapped in your blankets and something very, very warm.   You don't remember Shifting, but you feel it as you come back to consciousness.  You purr and lazily lift your tail in a slow wag.  There's a hand that runs over your head and down your neck, over your shoulder blades, and repeats the ministrations again.

Your eyes blink open, and you're met with steel blue ones.  You're both encased in your blankets, laying down and your head on Bucky's chest, his left arm behind his head, and flesh hand buried in your fur.  The longer you look at him, the pinker his cheeks become.

You yawn loudly and stretch, plopping your head back down on his chest and licking your chops.  There's a small smile pulling the corner of his lips, and he ruffles your head so much your ears flop back and forth.  A half yawn half growl leaves you, and you put your paw on Bucky's face, and he laughs.  He laughs loud and full, and it makes you pause, head tilting to the side, and ears flop over as you stare at him.

He looks back at you, a smile still on his face, "What?"  You yip, paws coming down on his chest playfully, then leap from the couch and trot around the coffee table.  You bark louder, and Bucky sits up, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. He lifts a hand, and you bring your head under it for him to pat.

"It's easier for me to talk when you're like this," he says quietly.  You vaguely remember soft rumbles of his voice in your ear while you slept.   "I can't remember the last time I had a conversation with someone.  Well-" he shrugs a little, "half a conversation."  His eyes go distant for a moment, then they focus back to you, and Bucky sighs.

"You should hate me," he drops his hand back to his lap and looks away from you.  "After what I did to your family.  What I've done to countless others since then."  

Part of you agrees with Bucky. You tried to hate him, wanted to hate him.  Maybe somewhere deep inside you, you do hate him, the Winter Soldier, at least.  But there’s no more blind rage when you think of the man in front of you now.  Not the rage your brother feels towards him, or the anger Leon feels at you for protecting Bucky, even after all he did.

You realize he’s still talking, but he's staring down at his hands as they wring together.  Bucky’s head is down, his long hair falling into his face hiding his eyes from view.  You can smell the sorrow on him, his sweet mint scent gone stale, the woodsmoke he smells like turning to burnt charcoal.

You whine, placing your head on top of Bucky’s hands, and he grabs your head, burying his fingers in your fur.  He heaves a heavy sigh.

“Sorry, Petal,” he mumbles and runs a hand over your head.

There’s a buzzing from the coffee table, and you jerk your head over to see it, Tony’s name flashing across the screen, and your tail wags on its own.  You tug one of the blankets off the couch and cover yourself with it as best you can before you Shift.  When you do, you bring the blanket up around your shoulders and hide your body as much as you can before you pick up your phone. 

You're smiling when you answer, sitting down next to Bucky on the couch.

"Hi," you breathe out, adjusting the blanket around you more.

"Hi, pretty girl," Tony's voice comes through the phone.  "Sorry to call so late."

And you realize it's dark out, the lights of the city below shining like stars as you look out the windows.

"Oh," you look at Bucky, who just shrugs. "I didn't even notice, I was Shifted most of the day."  He hums on the line. You hear him scratch his goatee through the phone.

"Isn't it also really late for you, too?" You ask him.

"Guess I'm still on New York time," you can just imagine his shrug, and then. A tiny spark goes up your spine.  He must be touching the mark on his neck.

"Tony," you warn. And then the tingling stops.  He clears his throat and chuckles.

"I uh, was just calling to let you know I might not be home in time for the full moon," he sounds a little sad.

You get up from the couch and grab your discarded clothes, and make your way to your shared bedroom, giving Bucky one last glance before disappearing down the hall.

"That's ok, love.  I've spent plenty of full moon's by myself," you say as you get dressed.  Peering down the hall, you can see Bucky still on the couch, "I've um - James is here."

It's silent for a minute, and you think maybe Tony hung up, but then there's a heavy sigh in your ear, and you worry if you've upset him.

"Yeah, I know." 

Oh. "I couldn't leave him.  Not when he's so lost."

"I know."

You kind of wish he'd shout or get frustrated.

"I'm not upset with you, Poppy.  I may not feel the same, but I trust your instincts on things I couldn't even comprehend.  So if you need to do this, I trust you."

You smile, a little teary eyed, as you make your way back to Bucky.

"Maybe call Spangles, and let him know his childhood crush is sleeping on my couch, yeah?" Tony half jokes.

You hum, “I’ll talk to him about it,” you say as you sit on the couch.

Tony hums this time, "Call him, Pops, he deserves to know.  I'll see you soon, ok?" 

"Yeah, alright."

"Love you, Popsicle." 

"Love you too, Tones."

It's quiet for a while after you hang up the phone.  Bucky is in your nest of blankets, his metal fingers pressing and picking at the callouses on his flesh hand.  You're sure he heard your conversation with Tony. He hasn't looked up from his hands since you reentered the room.

"James -"

His eyes cut to you, and you swear they shine, lighting up in warning. Just a flash; if you blinked, you would have missed it.

"James, I think Tony might be right," you start again.  Bucky shakes his head.  "He can help you better than I ever could.  He understands. You just need to trust him." 

You reach over and place your hand on top of his, and he looks over at you again.

"I don't even know who I am most of the time," he whispers.  "How can I face him after-" You squeeze his hands in assurance. 

"We can take it all one step at a time," you say quietly.  There's an itch under your skin, and you shudder.  Your phone lights up, and there's a winking emoji under Tony's name, and you curse him under your breath. 

"One step at a time," Bucky repeats, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

-*-

AN: I really wasn’t sure where this was going anymore, so I just said fuck it and just letting whatever comes to me and writing it down. Thank you for reading!!

[ffiamgoku]

Working on an X-Men and MCU crossover fic (blending X-Men elements from the live action films and comics/animated lore). And have been re-reading some 80s era issues that are Kitty Pryde-centric, and decided to use Bella Ramsey as Kitty's in-fic face claim. It's a thought I've had before, and one I couldn't pass up using for the fic.

(also, not supposed to be an intentional TLOU-HBO connection XD But I also pictured Kaitlyn Dever as Rogue, and her role in 'Justified' was a strong reason why) And yes, Rogue has the borrowed/absorbed powers from Carol.

The fic is set during the events of 'Captain America Civil War' and revolves around Logan and his gaggle of adopted kids/sidekicks, as well as other adjacent characters. And will lead into Logan and Bucky's past friendship during the war. It however is not friendly to Steve, or Wanda.

[lynlee494]

The glaring mistake in Bucky Barnes’s plan so far, named Tony Stark, had for sure already alerted Clint and Natasha...

...and sure enough Clint does get a panicked call from Tony, who has to repeat himself twice and send the security footage before the archer can believe that Bucky Barnes had just killed two members of the Avengers. Clint swears he sees something there, and Clint Barton makes the choice to stay and try to persuade his friend to come with him to get help.

Clint thinks he knows where at least some of this mess may have started...

Stroking Bucky’s back in repetitive circles after clearing his airway, Clint had done for Bucky what Coulson used to do for him. Told Bucky where he was over and over as he heard the team over the comm – with all of them having sounded absolutely wrecked. Iron Man was out after Hulk, and the rest sounded physically unharmed.

So Clint had just sat there and wiped the sweat soaked hair out of Bucky’s face, and when Barton found himself at a loss for words he just began again from the beginning:

"I’m your friend. You are an Avenger, you are one of us. We had cold pizza for breakfast. You loved it."

[floofweaver]

breaks my heart every time watching this scene 😭 God Sebastian Stan did such a great job

microdosing on catharsis by watching a fictional character or persona i relate to have an emotional breakdown until my chest starts to ache from the amount i've repressed

[darthbloodorange]

Birthday Picnics and Wishes

Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes Warnings: None Major Tags: Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Picnics, Stargazing, Wishes, Steve Rogers's Birthday, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, POV Steve Rogers Word count: 400 - Quadruple Drabble

Summery: Steve and Bucky picnic in a secluded field to escape the 4th of July fireworks for Steve's birthday.

For the: ✦ @fandombingo - Picnic Under the Stars [B4] ✦ @fluffystevefest - Wishes [July 4: BIRTHDAY]

Read below or on AO3 >HERE<

Above them, the stars shine brightly, unobscured by a single cloud. It was beautiful.

They'd made the right decision in coming out here to escape the fireworks.

Though he'd be lying to say it was the stars alone that made tonight so wonderful.

Steve looks over at Bucky, sitting beside him on the blanket.

Bucky gives him a smile. "Another sandwich?" the man asks, reaching for the large basket of food they'd brought with them.

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good for now."

"If you say so," Bucky says, finishing off his cake slice. "So, what did you wish for?" he asks.

Steve's heart skips in his chest. "If I told you that," he says, "it wouldn't come true, would it?"

"C'mon, Steve," Bucky gives him a playful punch on the shoulder that Steve quickly returns.

"I don't know," He says after a pause, looking up at the stars, "I don't really think I believe in wishes. Not anymore."

"Why not?" Bucky asks, "We live in a world of crazy, unbelievable things. Magic is a thing. We work with Thor, the actual God of Thunder. Aliens are just a fact of life. We fight monsters. And that dragon once!" Bucky throws his arms into the air. "It hardly seems like there is much that isn't possible in the future. But a wish is where you draw the line? I don't get it."

"Maybe it is because of that," he says. "When I came out of the ice, I kept wishing... and none of it came true." Steve lets out a huff, then smiles. "I guess, I decided if I wanted something enough, I should just make it happen myself."

"I guess," Bucky says, stretching his legs out and then laying down on the blanket. "Suppose that makes sense."

Steve grabs his plate from his lap and sets it down by their basket. With the dish, safely away, Steve lays down beside Bucky.

They lay shoulder to shoulder watching the stars.

"It's worked out alright for me so far," Steve says, giving Bucky a nudge.

Bucky looks away from the stars to him. "Yeah?"

Steve smiles. "Yeah.

"I guess I might have to give it a go myself then," Bucky says, voice catching.

Steve frowns. "Buck-"

Bucky kisses him, warm and soft.

When Bucky pulls back, he chases, kissing him right back.

Maybe wishes did work. Just took a while.

THE END

[miharuwrites]

Pretty pleased with this. Thoughts?

The moments tick by, stuck in a syrupy slowness as he struggles to compose his thoughts. Turning them into words is difficult for him on the best days when he unconsciously switches languages, speaking in whatever he remembers the word best in, and a tremendous struggle on worse days when he has a grasp on the concepts but can’t seem to make his mouth and throat cooperate to make the right sounds. This feels like one of those moments as he works his jaw, eyes tearing up in silent frustration. He knows what he wants to say. He just can’t get the words out.

[burberrycanary]

End of Year Stucky Picks #4

Stucky as a fandom is lucky to have a lot of classics and I rediscovered some old favorites this year!

Title: (I Can't Let This Go) I'm On My Way

Author: kototyph / @kototyph

Summary:

“Do you, uh… d’you want to go in?” he asks. Jeez, he’s nervous. He doesn’t think he’s been this nervous since 1940 and asking Mary Margaret to come dancing, standing out on her stoop with all her brothers and sisters watching and Bucky egging him on from under the stairs. She’d turned him down in front of God and country and even slammed the door in his face.

Steve really, really hopes Bucky’s not about to slam the door in his face.

—

A wistful little number to close out the year. This one-shot is lyrical with enough sharply observed particularity to ground its softness into a vivid and tangible glimpse into one way—out of all the ways we collectively imagine—Steve and Bucky might finally find some happiness. But what I love most about this story is how Steve and Bucky knowingly and quietly manage each other's hurts, habits and foibles—there's a glowing fondness in these small gestures that I'm utterly here for. - B.

Art: Francis Livingston, Cyclone (Coney Island)