#Just rewatched tfatws again

[azkannasharpe]

I haven't seen the trailer yet, but this gifset is so exciting!

John Walker in action | Thunderbolts* trailer

[bromcommie]

"it was like I was up there just to watch".........the things that could've been done with that. and yet

[https-dandelion]

i rewatched captain america the first avenger and all of a sudden i am a child/tween/13 year old obsessed with marvel again. i miss the old mcu so much it aches my heart and i didn't realise i could feel this way about movies but those movies raised me

[shiftingwithmars]

*Bucky glaring at Sam*

Someone: Hey Sam, I think Bucky’s mad at you

Sam: Nah, that’s just how shows his love. *Waves to bucky* Bucky: *Flips him off*

[antiquarianfics]

Therapy

Sometimes all a person needs is a little reassurance they’re not a bad person.

A/N: I’m rewatching TFATWS and the therapy scene broke me tbh. Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader Warnings: None. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, or reblog.

—

“And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me!”

Bucky’s words make you tense, and you feel your heart clench. Your eyes shoot from Bucky, to Sam, to Raynor. Neither Sam nor Raynor seem as affected by Bucky’s words as you. You suppose, however, his therapist would only see Bucky’s confession as a breakthrough, and his friend, in his anger, would only see it as selfish.

Bucky seems to realize he admitted something not only to the room, but to himself. It was clearly not his plan to share such a thought, and it was clearly a thought he didn’t want to admit to himself.

—

Later, when Sam, Bucky, and yourself are sitting on a plane, headed to meet with Zemo (against your protests), you finally bring up the impromptu therapy session with Bucky.

“Sweetheart?” You say, pulling Bucky’s attention from a random spot on the wall he’s staring at to you.

The hardened expression on Bucky’s face melts away as he looks at you.

“Doll?” He responds, mimicking your same questioning tone.

You bite your lip anxiously before leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips. The kiss takes him slightly off guard, but he happily returns it. The kiss takes you slightly off guard, too, because you kissed him to buy yourself some time to figure out what you want to say. After a second, you pull away, anxiously biting your lip again.

“What was that for?” Bucky asks, a goofy smile gracing his lips.

“Uh…” you trail off. “A distraction?”

“A distraction?”

“Uh, yeah. I needed to distract you while I figured out what to say.”

He shoots you a questioning look, but you continue before he can say anything.

“What you said earlier, to Sam,” you start, voice unsure.

Bucky sighs and leans back in his seat, closing his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says, a pleading tone lacing each syllable of your name. He doesn’t want to talk about this.

“Bucky,” you argue, “I just… I just want you to be okay. Do you really think that? That Steve was wrong about you?” The thought upsets you, and you can tell he knows it.

“Wasn’t he?”

“No.”

“Doll.”

“James.”

He meets your eyes and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Steve trusted Sam with his shield—with his legacy. Steve was a better person than all of us. If… if he was wrong about Sam, then he was wrong about me.”

“First of all, Steve was just a man. He wasn’t a god, and we need to stop talking about him like he was. He was a really good man, yes, but just a man. His opinion on any one person or any one situation is not inherently the right one. Second of all, that’s a logical fallacy and you know it. Steve gave Sam the shield because he believed he would do with it what was right. Sam did exactly what he thought was right. You have to stop blaming him for that. Third of all, Steve wasn’t wrong about you. If he was, Buck, you’d be in prison, but he wasn’t and you’re not. You’re here, with me, with Sam, and you’re trying to make the world a better place.”

Bucky stares at you. You’re so adamant, and it scares him. He knows you’re right, but even if you weren’t, he thinks he’d believe you simply because you’re so sure of yourself. He swallows.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You sigh in relief that he’s at least agreeing with you.

“Y/N?” He asks. You hum in response.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

[bbyboybucket]

Okay okay, now that I’ve had time to actually think about all this and get the evidence and do the math: imma give y’all a little ted talk on Bucky’s Stockholm Syndrome.

So I’m gonna preface all this by saying that this probably wasn’t an intentional choice from the writers of TFATWS. For two reasons, one cause the show overall had a ton of writing issues beyond just Bucky and was kinda a mess as a whole. And two, to actually make that claim firmly, I’d have to do a rewatch and I don’t got time for all that. That said, as a viewer, choosing to look not just TFATWS, but at all of Bucky’s appearances from the perspective of him having Stockholm Syndrome, makes a lotttt of sense. It adds a lot of depth to his actions, words, etc. Also even if it wasn’t intentional, if you chose to look at it through this lens, the narrative of TFATWS being contradictory towards him can actually be a reflection of what’s going on in his head. The way the show is sometimes sympathetic but other times judgmental can be a reflection of how he sees himself and his inner conflict regarding his past. Again, I don’t think the writers intentionally did this, but it’s cool way to look at it and repurposes their mistakes.

Now, I just wanna point out that Stockholm syndrome can develop within merely days or weeks, so it’s almost kinda silly to think that it wouldn’t occur if someone had been held hostage for decades. It’s practically undoubtable that Bucky had Stockholm Syndrome for at least some part of his captivity, but I think he’s still dealing with the remnants of it. Zemo was right when he said there’s something still in Bucky and he can’t get rid of hydra. But it’s not that he’s some evil killer at heart, it’s that he has leftovers from Stockholm Syndrome.

In a very simplified summary, Stockholm syndrome usually happens and works when captors cause immense pain to the victim and then treat them well afterwards. The captor shows them some form of kindness, flattery, mercy, etc. back to back with harm. Also a big factor in it is the victim becoming dependent on them for basic needs. Seriously, learned helplessness is a huge factor in Stockholm Syndrome. All of it causes a “bond” to form. And the more this occurs over time, the stronger it gets because the victim is constantly exposed to them, they become their only source of interactions and relationships. Stockholm syndrome is thought to be a complex trauma response, a defense mechanism for surviving during cruel and terrifying conditions.

Think of it like the victim disassociates the perpetrator from the abuse and then emotionally bonds with them, so that they can lessen their fear and feel a sense of security. Also with Stockholm Syndrome (especially within cults), not only does the victim bond with their captor, but being isolated from the rest of the world causes them to adopt their captor’s views and lifestyle. They get completely indoctrinated and start to think the same way as the captor.

Now think about what we see with the Winter Soldier. Even from the very little that we know, it’s a cycle of Hydra severely hurting him but then giving him praise, encouragement, validation, etc. All for manipulation ofc, but a broken mind isn’t going to see it that way. He would be relishing in the fact that they’re making him feel like he’s needed and wanted, like he’s done good, etc. Especially since that’s the only affirmations and positive reinforcements he receives, and is otherwise forced to suffer. Those moments of praise and “kindness”, are so so so heavily weighted against everything else.

While he was captive, while Hydra had him, he likely thought they cared about him. It probably felt close to love. Now ofc Bucky, as a free man with a clear head, knows it wasn’t love or anything at all except being viewed as a weapon. But I bet there’s still a part of him that desires that again, even if he knows it was fake, especially in the wake of becoming lonely and left with his own negative thoughts. Because like I said before, the affirmations were fucking heavy weighted. During those 70 years just the slightest bit of praise or mercy probably felt like the world’s greatest high. Especially when it was given in the midst of pain.

These manipulative affirmations also result in the victim justifying their abuse. This happens in a lot of abusive situations but especially in Stockholm Syndrome. Think about the scene where Pierce is praising the winter soldier so he can convince him to do what he’s told. What immediately follows? He slaps him. Then he electrocutes him. But the winter soldier doesn’t resist either, doesn’t complain, etc. He takes both, which is definitely a conditioned response, but it’s also likely due to the thoughts of “I’m disappointing them, I deserve this punishment for not behaving.” And to play devils advocate, let’s say he didn’t feel as if he deserved it. Even so, without speculating his thoughts, his reactions to the abuse and the fact that he’s been conditioned to deal with that at all, are still signs of Stockholm Syndrome. Because the captor’s behavior has become normalized.

Also he very well was dependent on them for his every single need. For food, water, shelter, hygiene, human interaction, and probably things he didn’t need but was manipulated into believing were necessities. And that, especially with the learned helplessness and with him likely being in constant survival mode, reinforces that feeling of dependence. The feeling that he needs them. The feeling that they’re Hydra isn’t so bad because they take care of him. The dependence also circles back into kindness thing. Providing for him could easily be seen as small acts of kindness, further making him feel like Hydra cares about him.

Another huge huge huge part of Stockholm Syndrome is that the victim shows resistance and anger towards those trying to help them or that try to oppose the captor. Look at how the Winter Soldier reacts to Steve, various times throughout the movie. With almost everyone else, he’s mostly objective, just fighting anyone who stands in the way of Hydra. He’s brainwashed but he’s not stupid, he knows Steve had another motive. He knew Steve wanted to help him in some way or separate him from Hydra. And that made him fucking livid. He wasn’t just irritated, like he was when Natasha shot his goggles. He was fighting with full on rage, because didn’t want to even think about a life outside of Hydra.

Now, I don’t think it’s full blown Stockholm syndrome anymore now that he’s a free man. That’s why in my initial post I said it’s to certain degree. In remission is maybe a way to word it. He can’t have full blown Stockholm Syndrome, because if he did, he wouldn’t acknowledge that hydra was bad at all, he’d straight up defend them. However, he clearly has some level of it since he considers himself to have been hydra, to have been one of them, rather than just their captive.

But this all plays into Bucky’s overall-mcu characterization and the way he has conflicting views on his time as the soldier. Because Bucky knows what happened to him was fucked up, that it wasn’t actually his fault, but he still feels that way because he was indoctrinated into their culture and his psyche was completely altered by them beyond just trauma. The degree of his stockholm syndrome is what makes him having stressful, conflicting, confusing feelings on it. It’s cognitive dissonance. In case anyone doesn’t know, here’s a quick definition: cognitive dissonance is when you have two conflicting thoughts/feelings at the same time or when your actions conflict with your thoughts/feelings.

Cause we know he has cognitive dissonance from his actions as the winter soldier. We know he has extreme stress, shame, and guilt from the fact that he killed people despite it not being in line with his morals. BUT if we’re talking about Stockholm Syndrome, it unravels other areas of cognitive dissonance. It’s why he struggles so much with accepting his own innocence and forgiving himself, and rarely acknowledges what was done to him. He knows he was a victim yet he was also a perpetrator. Those don’t align, they contradict each other, he can’t see how they can be simultaneous, it doesn’t neatly make sense how the perpetrator could also be the victim, especially from his perspective. A lot of times, the way people deal with cognitive dissonance is by ignoring one of the feelings/beliefs. His way of dealing with this is to put the blame on himself, because even though it still feels shitty, it’s less confusing and easier to accept that than the fact that multiple things can be true at once. Or more accurately from the outsider’s perspective: the fact that his innocence outweighs his guilt.

That’s why he shuts down anyone who points out he’s not to blame. He’s avoiding the feeling of victimhood that conflicts with his beliefs that he’s at fault. It shakes everything thing up and makes him feel even worse than just the guilt alone does. Which also is due to the fact that it’s easier to believe you’re the problem than it is to acknowledge you were helpless. And to deal with the cognitive dissonance he’s choosing the more manageable option, being at fault. But all this cognitive dissonance just completely feeds into his guilt and self esteem problems.

(Side note, no I absolutely do not think his guilt is boiled down to just this. This looking at one little piece of the puzzle, it’s wayyy bigger than this. I’m just sticking to the context of this post right now.)

He didn’t want to do anything Hydra made him do, he never wanted to be with them, yet he accepted Hydra as a home during those 70 years and some of their practices linger in his head. It’s inconsistent to have not wanted to apart of it but adopted the lifestyle anyways. The stress that inconsistency brings is not easy to resolve. Especially because he likely doesn’t understand why he felt any kind of attachment to something that caused him and others so much pain. Think about the line “Hydra was my people”. We all hate it. But….if you look at it from this perspective, it’s not necessarily wrong. He spent 70 years with them. 70 years of having nothing but Hydra, having to rely on them, having to endure all the things that cause Stockholm Syndrome to develop. He didn’t have a choice in the matter, but it really was his home in his eyes. An abusive, nazi nightmare of a home but still, sadly….his home. They were his people, because they forced themselves to be. They were his only people. Again, that’s where the cognitive dissonance comes in: he hates them, he wishes they weren’t ever his people….but the fact is that they were. And that eats at him.

And like I mentioned before, Stockholm Syndrome involves indoctrination and adopting the ideals of the captor. It would be hard to completely remove that if it’s what you spent decades living by. Hydra’s world view and practices probably still slip into his mind a lot, but they don’t align with what he truly believes is right, they’re not who he is as a person: again, more cognitive dissonance that’s causing him distress.

All of this is also probably a factor in why he wants to make amends, not only because he wants to right his wrongs and make up for his sins, but he wants to act on this cognitive dissonance. Because amending does align with his feelings of being against hydra, of not wanting to be a part of Hydra. And acting on that might help push away those other feelings of being one of them.

Also think about how he never argues or defends himself when people speak down on him and his past, he never corrects anyone when they say he’s hydra, he never has any rebuttal against negative comments about him. Which of course, is due to his low self esteem, and again, guilt. But also it goes back to the Stockholm Syndrome and cognitive dissonance that fuel those feelings. He can’t argue or defend his character to anyone else, because he can’t even convince it himself. Because for any excuse, any explanation, any proof he has of being good….he has something to contradict it with. And how can he truly say he’s still a good guy and not at fault when even he is confused about what’s true? When he still has uncomfortable, lingering attachments to Hydra that he hasn’t shaken yet?

The point is, his head is fucking mess, which we all already knew….but looking at it like this just makes you realize how much more confused and lost he is, how his thoughts are literally at war with each other all the time. And when you look at the narrative as a reflection of his feelings, it makes sense why it switches up every second. If it’s confusing for a viewer to see the seesaw go back and forth from “victim” to “criminal”, then imagine what it’s like in Bucky’s head.

Now I do feel like there’s a lot more here, you could go way deeper and I’m probably missing some stuff, but it’s a place to start. Just some fuel to get the motors running.

[bl0ssomized]

life (brainrot) update!!

I've FINALLY decided to reread Percy Jackson again. after 6 years. currently on the battle of the labyrinth. not stable.

also really really into marvel again cheers. TFATWS has become my comfort show and Bucky and Sam are my comfort idiots. will probably rewatch it a lot.

the pokemon (oc) lore is expanding once again I can't stop thinking about it... I'd post about it but I'm not sure how interested people are in my canon x oc ship and their life after the canon events. but honestly do I care? not really.

STILL INTO THE MARAUDERS just. not as much as before but it's okay the hyperfixation will return one day

I really. really need to talk about my thoughts of all of the above. maybe I will.

[cryptid-intraining]

I'm rewatching tfatws and this is something that just hit me right in the chest. During the scene where Bucky is detained because he missed his court ordered therapy and Walker posted bail for him, Walker says the line: "he's too valuable of an asset to have tied up, so just so whatever you gotta do with him and send him off to me."

Asset.

Once again being used by an agent of yet another government that views him only as an asset, a tool. Yes, Walker was just being an ass, as usual, in that scene but he's still an extension of the US government and as such the way Walker treats Bucky is just an extension of how the US government treats him. If they had the opportunity to have Bucky work directly under them, they would use him exactly like Hydra did. It is no different. Just another government exploiting him for their own gain.

[the-invisible-queer]

I think it's mighty disrespectful that I got MCU fatigue as they started giving women and people of color the spotlight

I feel like if they did that shit sooner I might still enjoy the franchise even if just a tiny bit

The last Antman and MoM felt like such a chore to watch

The last MCU thing I watched that I fully enjoyed was TFATWS and have rewatched it several times since until I completely gave up on the MCU

Loki s1 was okay but not something I had the desire to watch again - I do intend to watch s2 just for Rafael Casal and Ke Huy Quan at some point but I'm not in a rush to do so

Moon Knight only had my attention for Oscar Isaac and May Calamawy

So by the time Ms. Marvel and She-Hulk came out I was over it

I only watched the last Antman and MoM because Josh wouldn't leave me alone til I did

I love Monica and Carol but I have absolutely no desire to watch the Marvels

I am kinda looking forward to the next Cap movie but only for Sam

Thunderbolts I'm not looking forward to at all but I'll watch it for Bucky in hopes they finally kill him and release him

When Pedro becomes Reed Richards I'll support him

But bro I'm so tired of this fucking franchise

And it's so sad

Because the MCU used to bring me so much joy

I wrote the most fanfiction about this franchise

I had a 3 part fic series planned that now I've lost all passion for and I might not even finish the first part

I miss when Marvel was fun

I miss when Bucky was my comfort character

Don't even get me started on X-Men actually joining the MCU

I want absolutely no part in that

Also hope Deadpool stays his own franchise away from the MCU

It just makes me so sad how I went from loving this franchise so much to now I despise it and hope it fails so they fucking stop

[abarbaricyalp]

I've talked about this a bit throughout the show but I think there's also such a stark contrast to how Rhodey normally speaks/his humor/his frustrations and how he was in this show. Hell, even just how he walks and interacts with people. I'd have to go rewatch but Rhodey seemed much more himself in Endgane and TFATWS than he ever did in Secret Invasion

But again mcu writing is so inconsistent and bad and they never know what they want to do project to project so who knows 🙃

I just need Feige to confirmed this please

I know sam will be upset if he was tricked by a skrull rhodey but like

I prefer that rather than endgame rhodey being a skrull that's so much worse for me omfg

[sleeplessinseattlee]

I know we as a culture have moved on from marvel and I very much understand and agree but I also cannot change who I am. this is just to say that I am sorry for the person I’ll become when captain america 4 happens

[deancastil]

okay so im not gonna be up until 9 am gmt+2 to live react to this episode, i considered it but for my own enjoyment i want to watch this as usual with my dinner and settling down so you will have my reactions at like 8 pm gmt+2

[spilledkauffie]

Rule Number Two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Timeline: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 2.7k T/W: angst then fluff 🌩😣☁️✨ A/N: I rewatched TFATWS and got Inso from ep. 2

Bucky's fiancé (reader) has to pick him up from the police station after he missed a mandated therapy session, she's relieved he didn't break any of his "rules," but Bucky begins to question that and needs some reassurance.

↳ m a i n m a s t e r l i s t

“Come on, come on, come on,” you anxiously repeated to yourself, index finger tapping rapidly on the rim of your steering wheel; your eyes were fixated on the bright red streetlight, even though there were no other cars at the four-way.

When the dash finally reflected a green shade, you quickly turned the wheel, making the right hand turn. Cautiously you pulled the car into the police station’s parking lot. There were still flashing lights of red and blue, but no sirens. It appeared as though the cars were now trying to keep something, or someone, on the premise.

Shifting into park inside a designated “visitor” spot, you took a deep breath and tried not to let the sudden welling of tears persist, “it’s okay, he’s fine, it’s gonna be fine,” you told yourself taking several calming inhales as you shoved your phone into your shoulder bag and grabbed it from the passenger’s seat. Opening the car door, you locked the car and added the keys to your bag, leaving your hands completely free, just in case.

Walking past staring policemen, you tried to remain calm, but the situation altogether was making you nervous, and their glares were not helping whatsoever. Coming up to the glass door, you saw crowds of people, mostly police inside. Your heart raced wondering why there were so many police present; it had to be more than the whole station. The tears of worry arose again, and lingered in the rim of your eyes, tightening your eyebrows together, you tried not to make it worse by imagining the worst. The one thing that calmed you was seeing Sam amidst the crowd, he was trying to look over people.

“Sam,” you whispered to yourself, exhaling as you pushed the station door open and tried to make your way to him.

“Hey!” You saw Sam raise his hand while he more efficiently made his way to you.

“Sam!” You said a little louder, letting him know you saw him.

When he reached you, he instinctively brought you into a hug, keeping you there for as long as you needed. It was only when you decided to pull back that he did the same, still keeping his hands against your arms for some support.

“Is he- is he okay? Is he hurt?” You began, looking up with glistening eyes lined with tears.

“He’s okay,” Sam assured you, “let’s talk over here,” he ushered you towards the front desk of the station; you held onto his arm tightly while walking alongside him as he explained, “there’s just been a mix-up, but it’s all gonna be okay, I promise.”

“Okay,” you nodded with a deep exhale, having needed to hear those words, but you were still anxious “he didn’t hurt anyone?”

“No,” Sam again assured you gently, placing a hand on top of yours, hating to see you so anxious and worried, “we just need to tell them you’re here to pick him up, I’m sorry they wouldn’t let me get him out, otherwise I would have just brought him home.”

Sniffling, feeling completely overwhelmed with worry, you nodded again, “thanks Sam, we owe you,” you sighed, closing your eyes and feeling a few tears fall; the next thing you knew Sam’s hand was rubbing your back, “I’m sorry,” you tried to force a laugh, “I’m just not used to this.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam handed you a tissue, “this makes total sense, I know you’ll be feeling better when you see him. It’s gonna be okay. You both are.”

“Thanks, I don’t know how I’d do this without you,” Sam squeezed you a little closed to his side as you inhaled and exhaled, approaching the front desk together.

After giving them your information, showing them your approval card, and checking in, they instructed you to wait by the hallway’s entrance but insisted that you do not cross the yellow line. Sam stood by your side the entire time, he personally thought they were taking a little longer than needed and was about to say something to the front desk when Bucky’s frame came into view down the hall. You gasped, seeing that they still had him in handcuffs, Sam thought that was also a bit much; you didn’t need to see it like this.

Bucky kept his head low and stayed quiet. They kept him just beyond the yellow line, so you couldn’t touch him. Just as you were about to say something to him an officer cleared his throat.

“Ma’am, are you sure you’re authorised to pick up this man?” an officer asked you sharply.

“She already gave her information to the front desk,” Sam objected, “she’s his fiancé!”

“We’ll need to see the identification,” the officer ignored Sam and kept at you.

“This is ridiculous,” Sam said under his breath, just wanting them to make it a little easier on you, it was obvious that you were having a hard time in the situation, but they didn’t seem to care.

“Oh- y-yes,” you said, searching your bag frantically for your wallet with your approval card that you had just put back, “here it is.”

Bucky glanced over to your hand, holding out the card, you were shaking and he knew it was all his fault. Closing his eyes, he didn’t want to put you through this, he never meant to.

“Alright, looks like you’re cleared,” the officer said with a tinge of disbelief which nearly sent Sam, who was so tired of the treatment towards you.

You wrung your hands as you watched them uncuff Bucky, and your eyebrows furrowed tightly when they gave him a shove across the yellow line.

“Hi,” you tried a smile when your eyes met Bucky’s briefly, you felt like you should be stronger for him, so you did your best.

“Hi,” Bucky half-smirked, before looking over to Sam and extending a hand, “thank you, Sam, really.”

“Hey man, it’s nothing,” Sam shook his hand, before turning attention to you, “you sure you’re gonna be good to drive?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you nodded.

“Okay, I think we should get out of here,” Sam suggested, and you agreed more than anything.

Managing your way through the crowd, Sam gave you one more hug in the parking lot and let you know he’d be there if the two of you needed anything before leaving. Bucky thanked him, and the two of you headed to your car, which was outside the circle of police cars, a place where you could finally talk without worrying the news would pick something up.

Finally feeling freer, you exhaled a breath you felt like you’d been holding forever; Bucky opened his arms for you, to which you gladly accepted, “I was so worried about you,” you mumbled against his chest.

“I know,” he spoke softly, pressing his chin against the side of your head, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sniffled, pulling back, you caressed his jawline as he still held you around your waist, “you’re okay, and that’s all that matters. We can go home.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said hoarsely, as you pulled out your keys from the purse.

When you unlocked the doors, Bucky, by habit, opened your door for you and closed it before rounding the car to the passenger’s side. He took a deep breath before joining you. It was a quiet ride. You softly reached for his hand, and he let you take it; setting his hand in your lap, you felt the cold leather glove, but still stroked your thumb against it. Taking shorter breaths, the overwhelming sensation was hitting you again, and you couldn’t help the tears coming. So much could’ve been different and your mind was set on thinking about the “what ifs.” When you stopped at a red light, Bucky saw you take your hand off the steering wheel, following your hand with his eyes, he watched you try and wipe away several tears streaming down your face. You were so quiet he didn’t even notice, he didn’t hear you crying, but he wished he had.

Hearing him speak your name, you immediately turned to face him, worried he might need something, “I’m so sorry,” he added, swallowing harshly.

“It’s okay, I just got scared” you sniffled, smiling and rubbing his arm for reassurance, “you’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

Before Bucky could say more, the light turned green and you turned your attention back to the road. The rest of the drive home was quiet, the walk up the apartment stairs was quiet, and when you got to the hallway Bucky saw a few neighbours glaring. He looked down at the floor and then at you again, your hands were still shaking, but you managed to unlock it and push the door open.

The house was more quiet than usual, your dog wasn’t home, Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at that realisation. He locked the door behind him and simply watched you. You set your purse down, took your jacket off, and checked your phone. You spoke out loud to yourself as you reminded yourself of things to do.

“Text Sam real quick, thank him again,” you sniffled, “tell Monica I’m home, but we’ll pick up Lucky tomorrow since it’s late, thank-”

“Why’s Lucky at Monica’s?” Bucky interjected, leaning back against the inside of the front door.

“Oh,” you looked up to him, “I asked her if she could take him because I didn’t know if we’d be home. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to pick you up, or if they’d transferred you to Washington again, cause then I’d be out a few days so…”

Bucky sighed knowing this was all his fault, “hey,” he said, “can we talk for just a second?”

“Sure,” you set your phone aside, becoming attentive to him, as you walked over to the barstool he was sitting on.

Pressing his lips together and keeping his head low, you waited for him to talk, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he stated, “I didn’t intentionally miss the session, I didn’t want tonight to turn out like this.”

“I know you didn’t,” you assured him, reaching to his hand, “but hey, you didn’t break any of your rules-” Bucky winced, “actually, I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

“Wh-what?” you stuttered.

“I broke rule number two,” Bucky looked up to meet your gaze, it went from comforting to worried again.

“Did you tell your therapist?” You asked, knowing they’d had a session before you picked him up.

“No,” Bucky answered honestly.

“Oh-” you took a step away and tried to breathe normally, “wh-” you tried, but stopped, not entirely sure how to start.

Bucky brought his hands together, elbows resting on his knees, “are you sure you really want this?”

“Bucky, whatever it is,” you began, “we can make it through.”

“Can we?” He abruptly asked, keeping eye contact with you, “can we make it through this?”

You saw a familiar frustration in his face, his tone was shifting, you paused, “what are you saying?” You asked firmly.

“I am ruining your life!” He started, standing and pointing towards the door, “you had to drop your dog off because I was arrested, you were alone, and I made you come downtown in the middle of the night to pick my pathetic self up because I missed a damn therapy session!”

“Bucky-”

“You spent your entire night wondering where I was, you’ve been stressed and crying, and I did this all to you,” he continued, before looking down again taking a deep breath, placing his hands on his hips, he spoke softer, “yeah, I broke rule number two, I hurt you and I’m just not sure I can…go on knowing if I stay I’ll just keep hurting you.”

“You’re missing the entire point,” you began.

“Am I?” His tone returned.

“Yes!” You countered more aggressively, shocking him a bit, but you didn’t care; if this conversation was happening you weren’t mincing words, “I dropped Lucky off because I love you, I came alone in the middle of the night because I needed to be there for you because I love you, and  I was worried because I love you!”

“I’m not sure it’s worth that,” Bucky said tensely through gritted teeth, feeling his throat tighten, “it’s costing you too much-”

“No one gets to decide what’s too much for me except me!” You continued, “Sam was there because he cares, Bucky, you have people who care for you. An accident happened, we all know you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did!”

“Yes, it did,” You threw your hands in the air, “I cried and was scared, yes. Why? Because I love you! And there is no one else I would do this for except you! So why are you refusing to accept my love? Is it not good enough?”

“No! That’s not-” Bucky quickly frowned at your suggestion.

“Then what is it? What? Why won’t you accept the facts?” You pushed, needing the answer, the true answer once and for all.

“Because I am not worthy of it!” Bucky’s voice broke, and he swallowed harshly, sitting back down on the barstool, pausing a moment before returning his gaze to the floor.

Inhaling, you had finally found the problem. You heard Bucky give a heavy exhale as he dropped his head. Taking a few steps over to him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his hands immediately climbed your frame, settling around you, he clung tightly. With his resting against your chest, you propped one elbow on his shoulder, pushing your fingertips through the hair at the nape of his neck. It broke your heart that he couldn’t see it was all out of love, and that accidents happen, you were scared, but you never saw him as the one hurting you.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to yell, I’m just-” he spoke, but you could hear him choking up on his words.

You took a deep breath, “Bucky, if this is going to work, and I want it to, more than you know,” you closed your eyes, “I need you to know you are worthy of every ounce of love I have for you. I cried not because I was hurting, but because I was worried you were. I wasn’t alone, Sam was there. And I never once thought you did this on purpose, accidents happen. I cried because I was scared, not of you, but for you.”

“I want to believe it,” he admitted, “it’s just…things are taking more time than I thought they would.”

“That’s okay, but you can’t keep denying yourself what you deserve, it’s counterproductive,” you said softly.

For a few moments, you simply held him in your arms, and he kept a tight grip on you, but that was all you wanted. After the events from earlier there was nowhere else you wanted to be but right where you were. He brought you closer between his legs, and nuzzled against the side of your neck, while you combed through his hair, wrapping your other arm against the back of his shoulders to keep him close.

When he did pull back, he kept his hands against the side of your hips, “I’m so sorry,” he shook his head.

Caressing his jawline, you shook your head, “it’s behind us now, right?”

“Right,” Bucky nodded, trying to get used to the grace you gave him, it was something he’d never experienced before, “we’re okay?”

“We’re okay,” you smiled, smoothing your thumb along his cheek.

Nodding again and taking a deep breath, he stood, holding your hands in his, “I don’t ever want to make you cry again.”

“It was just because I was scared, I wasn’t used to it,” you told him again, “I really don’t know how you and Sam can stay so calm in those situations.”

“Well,” Bucky bobbed his head, “we’ve been arrested before, and then on the run, and then-”

“Okay, well, this complicates things,” you quirked your lips, trying not to smile.

“What?” Bucky’s face fell serious.

“I guess I’ll have to go steal Mr. Walker’s shield, and then go on the run to level with you,” you said before breaking into a smile, giggling, “guess you’ll have to get someone else to pick you up for a while until I’m back.”

Bucky broke into a smile, pulling you against his chest, resting his chin on your head, “I love you, and you’re not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” you returned, “and I won’t go anywhere you don’t go.”

[pebee]

They're honestly so scared of even a smidgeon of radicalism or healthy distrust of the military industrial complex that they'll sacrifice all logic whatsoever. If there are radicals, they're portrayed as 'right intentions, wrong execution' types. With Steve Rogers, as he's our good guy protagonist known to care about justice and fair treatment, there's no way they can convince us that he doesn't have the right intentions and the right execution when it comes to ideals. So he cannot be a radical in any sense. The moment it could become a permanent part of his ideology or character they side step back into trusting authority again. Ad fuckin nauseam. By extension it's happening to Bucky and Sam as if they don't have so many reasons to distrust higher ups as it is.

I mean, him keeping up with being Captain America, in my interpretation, was because it served a purpose in that it was an automatic approval stamp on whatever he got up to. A degree of protection. He could get things done and help people that the military or state would never think of spending resources on. When he got branded as a traitor he had no reason at all to continue. The whole reason he was even chosen for the serum was because he was a good man, not a good soldier. He can certainly continue to be a good man without some war relic shield or American flag paraphernalia. So can Sam and Bucky. But you know. Who cares about artistry and continuity when you can make all that sweet sweet money with new action figures and pentagon funding.

Anyway my hot take is that i love steve rogers but I absolutely hate captain america like u see at the end of catws and civil war steve literally dropped the shield and left it behind. The shield isn’t steve’s legacy, its captain america’s. And when steve woke up 70 years later and took down SHIELD plus telling the government to go fuck themselves and become the enemy of state (very sexy). ANYWAY i think he has stopped being captain america then. Because he has stopped agreeing w their bs so even tho they brought the shield back in endgame it still makes no sense and i hate endgame so much. I think the mcu did a good job in separating steves identity and captain america plus make him like the enemy of state (again very sexy) only to bring the shield back like its everything he is???? Anyway its not and its bs military propaganda that sam, after literally being fugitive w steve decides to work for the same corrupted government again. Like i think its a shitty plotline. I love sam’s characterization in tfatws but they make it like sam n steve have to go on the run bc they stole that stupid shield and not bc they fucking hate the government lmaooo. Anyway in conclusion endgame sucks and fuck state sanctioned captain america.

[phoenixes-and-wizards]

i was rewatching tfatws today and i just want to bring special attention to these little moments:

dr. raynor telling sam she’s heard “a lot” about him

bucky being protective of sam when he gets unfairly profiled by the cops and saying “he isn’t bothering me! do you even know who he is?”

sam waiting for bucky to be released, even when he didn’t have any reason to do so (keep in mind that bucky was arrested in the afternoon, and by the time they leave, it’s clearly nighttime outside the precinct)

zemo talking about how super soldiers should’t exist, followed by sam immediately bristling and saying “what about bucky?”

sam yelling i cANT RUN IN THESE HEELS and bucky immediately slowing down for him despite the fact that they’re currently being shot at and he’s, yknow, a super soldier

sam wanting to help bucky when he has to pretend to be the winter soldier again, and zemo actually having to hold him back to remind him that it’s all for their mission

sam gripping bucky’s shoulder and asking him if he’s alright right after

sam saying “bucky...” in that reproving tone after he refuses to help walker

sam noticing that bucky has gone quiet again and asking him if he’s okay after their first encounter with john and lemar

bucky asking sam if he’s alright when he notices that sam has been quiet the entire time on the flight back from madripoor

sam being all protective of the avengers and calling them “our friends” when zemo accuses them of supremacy

sam touching bucky’s chest to hold him back when zemo keeps withholding information from them

bucky telling them that he has to go for a “walk” at the end of episode 3, and sam’s first response being “hey, you good?” 

bucky telling walker that sam “has faced a lot worse” than karli morgenthau because damn right he trusts in sam’s abilities more than he lets on

walker using sam’s safety as a guilt-tripping method because he knows that deep down, despite his insistence that they aren’t partners, let alone friends, bucky cares

tl;dr: basically all the instances where these two ask each other if they’re okay and constantly look out for one another give me all the feels “i hate you” and “we will never see each other again” my ass

BONUS:

sam automatically moving the hand he had on bucky’s left shoulder to his right because he wants to keep his arm around him and pull him closer while they walk away at the end of ep 6

[from-the-clouds]

Kiss Me More (Part II) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Part two, read part one if you haven’t already! Sam & Bucky put reader in charge of looking after Zemo....again. Series loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, mentions of sex, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: Wow! I was so shocked on the feedback I got on the first part of this story. It has nearly 800 notes. I’m not used to my writing getting that kind of attention so I really appreciate the love. I decided to make this into at least a 3-4 part series and there will be eventual smut, but I feel like there’s something sweet between these two that goes beyond an obvious physical attraction, so I do want to build that a bit before we get there. This weekend I rewatched TFATWS & Civil War because I’m officially obsessed with Zemo lol. Please let me know what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :) 

-----

“Keep an eye on him.”

Y/N watched Bucky and Sam split off again. That was now at least the third time she’d heard that phrase since she arrived in Riga. Little did they know, she was probably the worst person to be put in charge of Zemo. Truthfully, it was starting to be a little insulting.

It was unclear why she’d been brought along on this mission, when half the time Sam and Bucky were talking in hushed tones just out of her earshot. There was always more to the story than they told her, but this time, it felt like she was more out of the loop than ever.

She adjusted the neckline of the sweater she wore out of an abundance of caution, checking subconsciously to make sure it hadn’t exposed the mark Zemo had left on her from the day before. It was a discovery she’d made that morning, and persisted despite her efforts to cover it up with makeup.

“According to those two, I must be the best at babysitting you,” she muttered under her breath. It was petty, so she wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear. But he did.

“Babysitting?” Zemo lifted an eyebrow. 

“You know, a nanny, a governess….whatever a Baron’s equivalent is,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time that day, which was a mistake. He looked so handsome in that long, fur-lined coat, tall and refined, hair styled perfectly. There had to be warrants out for his arrest since escaping prison, and in his current getup, he was hard to miss. 

It wasn’t easy to ignore the stifling tension between them. The Baron hadn’t left her thoughts since she’d closed the door on him the evening before. Now they were alone again. She couldn’t decide if that was thrilling or terrifying, so she decided on both.

“It’s nice of them to give us some alone time,” Zemo stepped close to her, one gloved hand pressing between her shoulder blades. Despite the cool temperature outside, it was the first thing today that had her shivering. 

“Walk with me,” he commanded sternly. She saw no opportunity to refuse as they started in the direction opposite of where Bucky and Sam had disappeared. 

“Zemo-”

“Helmut,” he corrected her. “But go on…”

“We have to focus on figuring out where Donya’s funeral will be,” she said, feeling his hand slide down to settle on the small of her back, trying to inch away, but he just pulled her closer. “We can’t waste time.”

“I know Riga inside and out, that won’t be as difficult as you and your friends think,” he murmured. His proximity was already suffocating. Or maybe comforting. It was hard to tell. “Tell me, what is your business with them? You aren’t an Avenger. This was my first time hearing your name.”

She snorted, finally finding the strength to pull away, and he dropped his hand. That was one thing that had confounded her. He was confident, took liberties with what others would allow, but knew when to stop pushing. There was something alluring to his nature. 

“I’m not,” she responded, wondering how much she was willing to share. When she stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes, his head was lowered, leaning in, listening intently for her response. She wondered if he really cared, or if he was good at pretending. It was easy to believe that he did.

“Bucky and I aren’t that different,” she continued. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m not a super soldier, but I was taught how to fight, how to kill. I followed orders for too long without questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. And at least now, I think I am.”

“You think,” he repeated, and corrected her again like he had the day before. As much as she wanted some kind of clever or quick quip back, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the moment and shrugged. There was nothing to defend when she still wasn’t sure what responsibilities she had in this world. 

Zemo halted, and she paused too, turning back to look at him. “So you were an assassin,” he murmured, reaching out. Nodding slightly, she lowered her eyes when his gloved thumb brushed across her face. The buttery, overpowering smell of leather took her over as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would’ve never guessed. Du bist so süß.”

Her knowledge of German was limited, but she could see a flash of what looked like affection in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying, could he? She wondered. She wanted to trust that he wasn’t, wanted to identify every good part of him she could, so she could justify the overwhelming attraction she felt towards him. Something in her just kept pulling forward against her will, like a magnet.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered, but didn’t pull away. The intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, but there was something strangely reassuring in his eyes. It was just the two of them, standing on a crowded sidewalk.

She rose her hand to clasp around his, frowning when she felt the hard loop of a ring on one of his gloved fingers. It had gone unnoticed by her, until now. He still wore a wedding band. 

It would have been easy to vocalize the observation, gauge his reaction, try to regain some upper hand and remind him who exactly he was dealing with. But, it would’ve been pointlessly cruel, as she knew what that felt like to answer that question. Those days were behind her, now. 

As if the universe was scolding her, a loud car horn broke through the perceived silence. His hand dropped from her face, and they began to walk again. 

“I had lots of time to think in prison,” he said after a heady pause in conversation. “About the things I’d done. Whatever intentions you have, to someone, you’re always the enemy. What I thought was important, trying to serve the greater good, it isn’t always worth the trouble. I was trying to protect what I had already lost, the places and people I’d taken for granted.”

Deciphering his words, she took a moment before responding. “That’s actually...very insightful,” she said, partly surprised by what he’d shared, appreciating that he felt her vulnerability, and matched it in his response.

“I know you’re stunned I’m not a brute,” he answered, increasing his pace to a determined strut rather than a lazy stroll. She was forced to keep up with him. “You’ve been told what to think about me by Sam and Bucky.”

She scoffed. “Not just them. The entire world. All the people you’ve hur-”

He halted and turned to face her so quickly, she collided with his chest and her breath caught in her throat. 

“I’m not that man anymore,” his voice was nearly a growl, disgust laced in his features as he looked down at her. 

But as soon as she recognized it, he became expressionless again, backing away. Falling back into step beside him, they continued to walk, a bit faster than they had been before. She followed him, at this point convinced that she might get lost without his guidance, but a little startled by his sudden change in behavior.

“What do you think of Riga?” he asked her as they cut through an alleyway. His voice held none of the venom that it had a few moments ago, so she wondered if she’d just hit a sore nerve.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, admiring the old brick buildings and fine architecture. “But I think I haven’t had much of a chance to appreciate it.”

“Have you been thinking about me?”

They ducked under an alcove, and she realized he’d carefully led her off the crowded streets. It was much quieter here. She suddenly didn’t feel as protected as she had been with him in the open. The temperature in the shaded space was much lower than expected. And he was standing over her, waiting for some response she didn’t know if she could give. 

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, liebling,” he continued. 

Of course she had been thinking of him. Nearly nonstop. What they’d shared, what it meant. She hadn’t been able to sleep until she relieved herself, fingers rubbing her clit and delving into her warmth, whimpering his name when she finally came. Still, it had done little to quell the ache inside her. 

It was a horrible thing, she’d decided. Objectively horrible, and unprofessional. There was the consideration of accessibility. What did he see in her beyond a means to an end? Was she really going to throw everything she’d worked for away to a man who was going to use her to scratch an itch?

Too much was at stake, Sam and Bucky’s trust, her reputation, her job, and she couldn’t allow it to go on. 

But oh, how much she wanted it to. 

“Yesterday was nice,” she straightened up, holding her own. “I won’t lie to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a self-satisfied smirk. 

“But I’m not foolish,” she continued. “Coming on to the first woman you see after you get out of jail? Seems pretty convenient.”

At first, the Baron tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together at her words. But after a moment, the smile returned, and he chuckled. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t insult me, Helmut,” she said sternly, trying her best not to feel embarrassed. She was only being honest.

“Are you always so severe to yourself?” he asked, tutting lightly. 

It would have been better to say nothing. Why give him anything at all? 

She didn’t answer his question, just backed away from him and began walking in no particular direction, wanting only to increase the space between them and regain her common sense. That was impossible however, as she was jolted backwards before she even knew what was happening, a firm hand on her upper arm, and she was chest to chest with Zemo once more. 

“We were in Madripoor together. I could’ve had my way with many women there if I wanted. But I didn’t.”

“Please-” she rolled her eyes.

“If all I wanted to do was fuck someone, I could have done it by now,” he stalked forward, the air pressure around them dropping, weighed by the tension hanging thick between them. “But that’s not what I want. I want you.”

His words, spoken in a soft, low purr rattled away every bit of resolve she had left in her. Some last ditch effort found her stepping backwards, but her body met the brick wall behind them and she realized he had her cornered. 

In more ways than one, she thought.

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up at his eyes, clouded with lust. “I know you want me,” he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. But why should there have been? He was right. 

Her eyes darted around, like someone or something around them was going to jump out and save her from herself. It didn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no need to be scared, liebling. I feel it, too.”

With that, he closed the gap between their lips. He tasted sweet, like the candies he’d been eating back at his flat. Turkish delight. She was drowning in him again, his scent, his touch, everything about him enveloped and beguiled her. Her shirt had bunched up slightly somewhere along their walk and his gloved hands explored the exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

She surrendered, letting him tease open her mouth and claim her wholly. It was still bad, she knew. But there wasn’t any last bit of self-control left in her. 

The layers of clothing between them didn’t allow for the same proximity she’d had to him the evening before. Groaning in delight and frustration, she reached up to tangle and rake her fingers through his hair, as his fingers curled around the top of her sweater, revealing the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“Don’t hide this,” his lips left hers as his eyes focused on the stamp of affection he’d left behind the day before. “Let them see.”

“You know I can’t,” she responded, sheepishly pulling it back into place. Studying her with amiable consideration, his hand rose to brush tenderly across her cheekbone. 

“I thought you’d come to me last night,” she confessed, drawing away slightly, shocked by her own admission. But right now, she didn’t feel the need to put up as much of a facade. He looked positively virile; panting, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed, pupils blown out as he focused on her. To know she was the cause of his current state of disarray gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. A buried, salacious part of her wondered what else she could do to make him look even more unkempt.

“I considered it,” he said, sounding almost timid. “But I want to do this right.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “In private, so no one can disturb us,” he continued, lips moving down her neck. “We can take our time, you can be as loud as you’d like.”

The mental image he was currently painting for her was doing very little to strengthen her convictions, whatever those had been. The thought of her legs wrapped around his torso, naked bodies pressed together sent a bolt of electricity through the pit of her stomach, radiating outwards. She wanted his lips on every inch of her skin. Aching at the possibility, the present tease of his teeth nibbling on her collarbone wasn’t helping.

“You know we can’t,” she didn’t try to stop the thought as it came out of her mouth.

“What is there to lose?”

Everything, she thought, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t really, as his gloved hand was trailing slowly under her jacket and sweater, against her bare skin, and cupping her breast through her bra. Whimpering, she couldn’t control the way her body arched against his.

Hooking her knee on his hip, she let him press forward, feeling the warmth of his excitement through his trousers and her jeans. He ground against her once, teasingly, and she moaned softly into his mouth. 

He was the one to pull away, and she was thankful he did. “Think about it, liebling,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Du hast die Kontrolle.”

“We can’t,” she answered again, but even she didn’t believe herself. Raking her hands through her hair and adjusting her rumpled sweater, she straightened up. “We have a job to do.”

Brushing past him out of the alcove, each step she took away from him gave her the self control she desperately needed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him reluctantly trudging behind. At this point, she wasn’t foolish. There were only two ways this could end.

----

Part III

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