#Winter Soldier | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aquaticmercy · 2 days ago

Text

Match

Summary : You finally found your intellectual match in Bucky Barnes.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x rare book dealer!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : You and Bucky are nerds (affectionate), mentions of his past. Sexual tension-filled philosophical debate. DC comics exist in the MCU as literature as per the guardians Christmas special lol. Cursing? Steamy not smut. Fluff!!!!

Word count : 5.7k

Note : This fic was inspired by that one scene in FATWS where Bucky said he read the hobbit. I just really like the idea that Bucky really really likes to read. Enjoy!

Rare books were not just a job to you, but a vocation. You spent your days seeking out treasures, preserving them, and connecting them with people who could truly appreciate their worth. Your little shop was a haven of creaking wooden floors and shelves brimming with the worn spines of countless literary works, sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

It was your home.

On a quiet Tuesday, the bell over the door jingled.

At first, you assumed the man who walked in was lost or killing time— maybe a tourist who thought your shop was an antique or souvenir shop (you’ve gotten a lot of those over the years).

He didn’t fit your usual profile of a customer—no tweed jackets or scholarly glasses. No suit and tie, no clean white blouse. This one was confident, albeit rough on the edges. His leather jacket and heavy boots belonged in a biker gang, his long hair brushing beautifully against his shoulders. But it was his left arm that drew your gaze—a sleek, black metal hand peeking out of his sleeve, rippling slightly when he moved.

You recognized him instantly: James Buchanan Barnes.

The former Winter Soldier.

A man who belonged to history books and legends. Seeing him in person was... surreal. No article had prepared you for the magnetism he carried, no photo did him justice.

Still, you weren’t one to swoon. And you definitely weren’t about to let him see you staring a little too long into his steely blue eyes.

“Can I help you?” you asked, keeping your voice calm and professional.

For a second, he seemed to weigh whether or not to answer. “I’m looking for a first edition of The Hobbit.”

You blinked.

That wasn’t what you’d expected.

“It’s in the case over here,” you replied, recovering quickly. You led him to the glass display where one of your most cherished possessions lay nestled, secure and pristine.

He muttered something like ‘just like I remember’ as he gazed at the book, his voice close to reverence.

“Big fan?” you ventured, curious.

His lips curved up, into a faint smile. He nodded. “Always admired how he built entire worlds. The languages, the histories.” He hesitated, his voice growing quieter. “He lived through hell in the trenches, too. And from that, he wrote something… hopeful.”

You hadn’t expected that depth of understanding, and your surprise must have been obvious. “What?” he asked, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Didn’t think I’d be the type?”

This was going to be fun, you thought.

You shrugged, trying to suppress a grin, “you’re not exactly my usual Tolkien collector.”

That earned you a sweet, gentle chuckle. “I didn’t think I’d be either, but I’ve always loved books,” he admitted, “They were one of the only constants after...” His voice faltered, remnants of his past briefly flashing behind his eyes.

You didn’t press. Instead, you followed his lead, steering the conversation back to Tolkien. “You're right about the worldbuilding. He wrote a full mythology— linguistic and cultural foundations and all. It’s like he created an alternate history.”

“Exactly.” Bucky’s smile returned, brighter this time. It had been ages since Bucky had an engaging, meaningful conversation that wasn’t about mission planning, let alone about a book. The heated, faceless debates with internet strangers—each convinced they were ultimately correct—definitely didn’t count. “It’s that attention to detail— You don’t see that much anymore.”

After that, the two of you fell into a rhythm, talking easily for nearly an hour. About Tolkien’s works, his love for language, and the way war had shaped his narratives. You even mentioned how Tolkien’s own experiences in World War I echoed the camaraderie and loss found in his stories. Bucky nodded along, sharing personal observations that surprised you—not just because of their insight, but because of how much he genuinely cared.

Back in the day, everyone saw Bucky as the classic jock, and to be fair, he was. But beneath the effortless charm, he was a nerd at heart—fascinated by books, obsessed with science, and captivated by innovation. It was Bucky who had dragged Steve along to the World Exposition of Tomorrow, it was Bucky who was eager to see Howard Stark’s presentation on flying cars. Back then, the future had been his fixation. It had been out of reach— a world of endless possibilities.

Now, he was drawn to the past.

He’d fallen in love with reading again. After all, he had a century of literature to catch up on. And with the internet at his fingertips, he had access to more knowledge and stories than he could have dreamed of.

40s Bucky would’ve had a heart attack from the sheer volume of information he could consume. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just chasing a vision of what might be—he was immersing himself in what already was.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to The Lord of the Rings.

“Did you read the trilogy?” you asked.

He nodded. “Only a couple of years ago. I didn’t even realize it was published after… everything.” He paused, frowning slightly, as if reaching into the murky depths of his memory.

Right. You did a quick mental tally based on the books you’ve read about him. The Hobbit was published in 1937, and The Fellowship of the Ring in 1954. Bucky was presumed killed in action in 1945 and captured by a terrorist organization. So, yeah—he’d missed it.

“Hydra,” you said the thought allowed before you could stop yourself.

You winced, bracing for impact. Oh no, you thought, have I crossed a line?

“You read about me?” he asked to your surprise, likely catching you deep in thought.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though your heart still beat out your chest. “Superheroes are a popular topic for peer-reviewed journals and doctoral theses. There’s a whole academic subfield about the Winter Soldier— a lot about your role in the war, too.”

His expression was unreadable, but you thought you saw a flicker of something— amusement? Whatever it was, it eased the tension you had accidentally created, and the conversation resumed.

You’ve read plenty about Bucky Barnes—the sharpshooter of the Howling Commandos, Captain America’s trusted sniper. You’ve probably read more about him in the modern age: scholars debating the pardon of the Winter Soldier, professors discussing the Sokovia Accords— a conflict in which he’d been a major player in. You’d disagreed with the Accords, of course, but that’s a story for another time.

Right now, your focus was on the man in front of you, talking about Tolkien and his wonderful languages. See, the peer-reviewed articles about him had painted a stark picture: a kind soul turned into a cold, unfeeling weapon. But they neglected to mention that even after everything, he was still a kind soul. In person, it was hard to reconcile the man before you with the image of a killer.

The paper also failed to mention a pleasant surprise: his mind. You realised now that Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a soldier; he was sharp, curious, a man who loved literature and sought out conversations that challenged him. It was something the world overlooked.

Yet it was there, just beneath the surface.

“Have you read the Silmarillion?” you ventured.

“I tried,” He grimaced. “Felt like reading a textbook. Not sure I even made it halfway.”

“That’s fair,” you admitted with a laugh. “It’s not the easiest read. But it’s worth it, I promise.”

Bucky didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t shut the idea down, either.

You made a snap decision. Reaching behind the counter, you pulled out your personal copy of The Silmarillion. It wasn’t a rare edition, but it was filled with your notes in the margins, a map you’d sketched for reference, and little Post-its marking key passages. “Take this,” you offered, holding it out to him.

He hesitated, not used to kindness from beautiful strangers. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. Hopefully the notes will make it easier. And don’t even worry about returning it,” you nodded, “It’s probably for the best. I obsess over it too much.”

He took the book, his metal fingers brushing against yours as he did, making your stomach flutter. “Thanks.”

“And if you’re curious about all those papers written about you...” You looked through bookmarks on your laptop, typing ‘James Barnes’ into the search bar. You jotted down a list of academic articles you’d read— some about his time in WWII, others about his unique role as a postwar icon. “Here. If you want to see what people are saying.”

He smiled that kind smile again, folding the paper carefully and tucked it into his jacket. “I appreciate it.”

When he left with the first edition of The Hobbit, your annotated Silmarillion, and your list of articles about him, you found yourself staring at the door long after it had closed, hoping it wasn’t the last time he’d visit your shop.

—

Bucky started coming in more frequently, always buying another rare book— Hemingway, Orwell, Lovecraft. The pretense was paper-thin, though, and you both knew it.

Sure, he enjoyed books, but by that point he knew he could’ve gotten cheaper copies on a bid online (rent in a big city was expensive)— and the books he bought weren't even that rare.

Each visit turned into a lengthy discussion that carried you through the night, far past the shop’s usual closing time.

One afternoon, he returned something unexpected: your well-worn copy of The Silmarillion. Admittedly, you’d missed it— its once-pristine pages now brimming with additional notations—his handwriting mixing with yours.

“I had to,” he said, an almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Your notes made me see it differently. It felt like a conversation.”

You opened it, thumbing through the pages, your eyes catching his commentary. He had sharp, incisive thoughts: challenging some of your interpretations, expanding on others, and sometimes adding playful jabs in the margins when he disagreed with your analysis.

“This is dangerous,” you said, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “Do you really want a debate about Tolkienian theology?”

“I’ve got time, doll,” he said with a grin, settling onto the stool by the counter. Your cheeks flushed at the nickname, hearts doing backflips in your ribcage.

And so, that evening, you indulged in the mind of James Buchanan Barnes, exploring his thoughts and musings about Middle-earth. For the next two hours, the two of you argued about the nature of Ilúvatar’s creation, the Fëanor tragic story, and whether or not Morgoth represented a failure of divine providence.

“I’ll admit,” he said at one point, leaning back and crossing his arms, “I wasn’t expecting it to feel so... biblical.”

“It’s a way to think about creation through the lens of fantasy,” you replied, your voice softening as you traced your fingers over the book’s cover. “There’s a reason people get lost in it.”

He watched you for a moment, his gaze lingering, his smile fading into something softer.

It wasn’t the only time your conversations would take a turn like this. A week later, gothic monsters were your battlefield.

Bucky leaned against the counter, an old edition of Dracula he had just purchased in his hands, the worn leather squeaking as he shifted. His brow furrowed in that way that always made you wonder what he was thinking— though you had a feeling he was about to pick a fight, again.

“You’re out of your mind if you think Frankenstein beats Dracula,” he said, glancing up, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I’m not saying they’re even comparable,” you countered, crossing your arms as you leaned against the opposite side of the counter. “They’re completely different genres. It’s not a fair fight. But if it were... Frankenstein wins. Hands down.”

Bucky chuckled, a low, warm sound that made it impossible not to smile. “You think that because you’re obsessed with sci-fi. If it’s got a fake scientist and a lot of regret, you’re sold.”

“And you think Dracula is better because it’s all dark and broody,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow, “sound familiar?” You smirked, mirroring his stance against the opposite side of the counter. “Besides, Frankenstein is a masterpiece—philosophy, morality, hubris—it’s got layers. What’s Dracula got? Melodrama?”

“Hey! Dracula has layers!” Bucky chuckled low in his throat, setting the book down. “It’s about primal fear, wrapped in ancient powers, wrapped again in the clash between tradition and modernity.”

“It is enjoyable, I must admit, but it’s just a glorified soap opera.” You groaned, though your lips twitched in spite of yourself. “Shelley’s work makes you think, you know? It’s art.”

“Art?!” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse skip. “It’s a guy making bad decisions and spending the rest of the book dodging the consequences.”

You straightened, eyes narrowing. “It’s about responsibility! The monster is a reflection of Victor’s failure. He’s abandoned and searching for connection—”

“And whining about it,” Bucky interrupted with a smirk, folding his arms. “Dracula doesn’t whine.”

The playful sparring faded when it hit you.

Frankenstein’s monster was created without consent, shaped into something he never chose to be. He was cast out, left to navigate a world that saw him as a mistake. The monster was isolated— burdened by guilt—the question of whether he was defined by the harm he’d done.

“Does he…” you started, gulping, unsure of how he’d react to an outright observation. “Does Frankenstein’s monster make you uncomfortable?”

As you stepped closer, his expression faltered, his eyes dropping to the book in his hands. Slowly, he set it aside, the movement deliberate. You reached out, your fingers brushing against the cold surface of his metal arm before resting there gently. “Does it hit too close to home?” you asked.

He didn’t deny it. A quiet laugh escaped him instead. He shook his head. “You’re too damn perceptive for your own good,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a longing for something you couldn’t quite place.

Your fingers moved in slow circles against his metal hand, and when it twitched beneath your touch, you knew he felt it—knew he felt you.

“The monster was never the villain,” you said, a fragile offering meant to soothe him. “He just needed someone to see him. He can be kind, too.”

His gaze lifted, locking onto yours, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes stole the air from your lungs. For a heartbeat, the world stilled.

Then Bucky’s smirk returned, smaller this time, as he leaned into your touch as if he craved it. “Nice try,” he said, voice lighter but still soft. “You’re not winning this one. Dracula’s better.”

You laughed, the tension breaking just enough to let you breathe again. “You’re impossible, Barnes.”

—

You were afraid you had scared him off after that, but to your surprise, he returned a week later, albeit a bit bruised from a mission.

You’d been reshelving old graphic novels that day (First Edition Hergé that you were quite excited by), the quiet hum of the shop wrapping you in comfortable silence, when you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye. His dark leather jacket hung slightly open, revealing a plain gray shirt that stretched just enough across his chest to draw your eyes. There was a faint cut near his jaw, still healing.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. His eyes lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary. “You look beautiful today. Is that a new dress?”

Your breath caught, and a warmth crept up your neck as you glanced down at the simple, flowy dress you’d chosen that morning. “It is,” you admitted, looking back up at him with a shy smile. “Thanks for noticing.”

“Hard not to,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small, almost teasing smile before he turned toward the shelves.

You busied yourself with reshelving more books behind the counter, but you couldn’t help watching him out of the corner of your eye. His human hand traced idly along the spines, careful not to inflict damage. When he stopped, he plucked a rare-ish pocket 6th edition of Thus Spake Zarathustra from the shelf, his metal fingers glinting faintly in the light of the shop.

“You actually like this guy?” he asked quietly, lifting the book like he was sharing a secret.

“Like is a strong word,” you said, stepping out from behind the ladder. His gaze caught yours, and there was a flicker of something playful in those blue eyes. Your pulse quickened, beckoning him to the counter. “He was no saint, but hardly anyone is. I… appreciate his contribution. It’s not his fault people misuse his work.”

Bucky had witnessed it firsthand: fascists distorting Nietzsche's philosophy, disregarding its complexities, and twisting his ideas into a justification for genocide.

His lips turned upward, a lopsided grin that softened the sharpness of his jaw. His stance shifted, leaning against the counter with a practiced ease. His eyes flickered, taking you in, and when you crossed your arms, his gaze lingered briefly, enough to spark a bubbling heat beneath your skin.

“You don’t think Nietzsche was a proto-fascist, do you?” you asked, tilting your head.

“God, no,” he said quickly, amusement softening his voice. His grin spread, revealing the faintest cute dimple in his cheek. “I’ve read enough to know better. But I don’t exactly buy the Übermensch thing either. It’s too... self-centered for my taste. The whole idea of being ‘beyond good and evil’ feels dangerous.”

“That’s fair,” you said, closing the distance between you as you reached for the book in his hand. Your fingers brushed his as you slipped it from his grasp, his touch warm, steady, almost deliberate. His eyes flickered down to where your hands had met. “There are many flaws in his thinking, but I don’t think the concept is inherently bad,” you continued, the air between you charged with tension. You tilted the book toward him, as though showing him something, though you both knew you weren’t really focused on the pages. “It’s about striving for a better version of yourself. I think he wanted people to create their own meaning, not follow blindly.”

“Maybe,” Bucky murmured, his voice dropping an octave. He shifted closer, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter, the sound echoing in the quiet room. His metal hand rested at his side, the vibranium gleaming faintly as his other hand inched forward, almost brushing yours.

His breath fanned your cheek as he leaned in, close enough now that you could see the stubble along his jaw, the way his lashes framed those blue eyes. “But there’s something so… wrong about thinking you’re the one who gets to decide what’s right,” he whispered, his voice like a secret meant only for you.

He was close, dangerously so— that you could feel his breath on your nose.

The bell above the door chimed suddenly, breaking the moment like shattered glass. Dr. Hart, a lecturer from the local university, stepped inside, a bundle of papers tucked under her arm, and smiled in greeting.

She was a returning customer, here to pick up a special edition of Conversation on Botany that you had tracked down for her.

“That’s $40, Mr. Barnes,” You took a small, steadying breath and waved at Hart with a thumbs up that said I’ve got your book.

His lips twitched into a knowing smile. Hr reached for his wallet, pulling out a few bills. As he handed them to you, his fingers brushed yours again.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, his voice soft, almost teasing.

—

The tipping point came late one evening.

You’d spent the last few hours catalouging a shipment of rare books, the shop’s air thick with the comforting scent of old leather, yellowing paper, and the faint hint of dust that always seemed to cling to ancient texts. The shop was silent save for the scratch of your pen against paper as you logged the latest arrival.

The peace shattered with the familiar jingle of the bell above the door.

“Shop’s closed,” you said without looking up, your voice automatic, your focus still on the fragile spine of a sixteenth-century text.

“Good thing I’m not here to shop,” came the deep, unmistakable voice of Bucky Barnes.

Your hand froze, an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You looked up, finding him leaning against the doorframe with that trademark blend of casual confidence and smoldering intensity. His black Henley stretched across his chest, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms—a sight you tried not to dwell on for too long.

“What are you here for, then?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you tried to sound indifferent.

“Conversation,” he said simply, stepping further inside.

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you returned to your work. “You came all the way here just to talk?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he teased, his lips turning into a sly smile as he perched on the edge of your desk. “I was in the neighborhood.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother responding. Bucky always had a way of pulling your attention, and tonight was no different. You tried to focus on the delicate bindings in front of you, but his overwhelming presence was impossible to ignore.

When he reached for a book from the nearby stack—a copy of Meditations by Marcus Aurelius—you finally gave in.

“Stoicism?” you asked, your tone light with playful mockery.

He flipped the book open, his fingers grazing the thin pages. “You’re really surprised? I thought you’d figure that about me,” he said, glancing up at you with a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “Marcus Aurelius had a lot to say about self-control.”

“And yet here you are…” you replied, gesturing to where he was leaning across your workspace, a soft furrow of amusement on your eyebrows. You decided you could be flirty— eyeing the undone button of his Henley, showing a hint of his skin underneath. “...testing mine.”

The corners of his mouth curved. “Guess I’m doing my part to help you practice.”

You shook your head, half-smiling. “It’s not just about self-control, now is it? It’s about accepting what you can’t change.”

He tilted his head, agreeing with you. “Or a way to stop drowning in things you can’t fix.”

From there, the conversation unfurled like a thread you couldn’t stop pulling. Philosophy, morality, the nature of good and evil—it didn’t take long before you were fully engrossed, debating with a ferocity that surprised even you. Bucky was sharp, quick-witted, and maddeningly good at challenging your points. Every time you thought you had the upper hand, he’d counter with something so precise, so well-argued, that you couldn’t help but admire his mind.

As the debate shifted, you sat on your desk, its surface cluttered with books that were hard to find, but not rare enough to be put in a glass case. Your focus was solely on Bucky, who was pacing the room with measured steps, his hands brushing against the edges of shelves every so often as though grounding himself.

“Alright,” you said, leaning forward, crossing your legs. “Here’s a question for you: Should Batman kill the Joker?”

Slowly, he turned and walked closer to you, his shoes thudding softly against the floor. He stopped just short of your legs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, making your pulse quicken.

Oh, that piqued his interest.

“I should’ve known you’d bring up Batman.” Bucky’s lips curved into a smirk, eyeing up the first print of 90s DC comics in the corner of the room that hadn’t been there two days ago— a fresh delivery, perhaps? You were always very topical, and the recent restocks somehow always made their way into conversation.

“It’s a valid moral dilemma,” you said, straightening, your chin lifting slightly.

He tilted his head, his expression a blend of amusement and challenge. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Of course he should,” You didn’t hesitate, the answer rolling off your tongue with absolute conviction. “The Joker is a mass murderer. Every time Batman spares him, more people die. His refusal to act is just as bad as pulling the trigger himself.”

Bucky’s smile lingered, but his gaze grew darker, ever so slightly. “So you’re saying Batman’s refusal to kill makes him complicit?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, leaning in slightly, the heat of the argument pulling you closer. “Batman’s morality is Kantian—rigid rules and all. But if he were more… utilitarian, he’d save more lives. The greatest good for the greatest number. One life to save countless others.”

“That kind of math doesn’t scare you?” Bucky asked, leaning back as though to put some distance between you, though his eyes stayed locked on yours. “Once you start deciding whose lives matter more, where do you stop?”

“It’s not about worth,” you argued, the intensity rippling from him unnerving but impossible to look away from. “It’s about outcomes. If you can prevent suffering, don’t you have a responsibility to do it?”

The silence that followed felt heavier than it should’ve. His jaw clicked a bit, tightening as he considered your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, shyer.

“If that’s your stance, then maybe someone should’ve killed the Winter Soldier years ago.”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, your breath catching. The implication of his statement filled the room, coiling tight around your chest.

“Bucky,” you said quickly, panic creeping into your voice, your fingers twitching toward him but freezing halfway. “That’s not—”

The corner of his mouth curved into a small, fragile smile. “Relax,” he said, holding up a hand, his voice dipping into something gentler. “I’m not offended. This is just a debate, right?”

“It’s not the same,” you insisted, your voice gentler, almost pleading. You stood from your desk, hesitation in your chest as you reached out— you were scared he might pull away, “you were brainwashed.” Slowly, you pressed your hand to his cheek, his stubble rough beneath your palm. It was a wordless apology—a pathetic attempt to comfort, to reach him where words had failed.

To your surprise, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he leaned into your touch.

Bucky, slid his arm around your waist, testing the waters. His eyes flicked to yours, searching for any sign of rejection, any hint that he’d crossed a line. But there were none. Instead, the subtle hitch in your breath and the way you leaned into him told him everything he needed to know.

He shook his head, rubbing soft circles on your hip as if to say you’re okay. This conversation is more than okay. “But in the grand scheme of utilitarianism, it shouldn’t matter, right? My life was a liability. More people would’ve been saved if I hadn’t been around to hurt them.”

His words settled over you like a storm cloud. The silence stretched, your carefully crafted argument unraveling in the face of his lived experience.

He leaned forward then, bridging the space between you, his arm pinning you in place. “Maybe I understand Batman better than most,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. “Killing someone doesn’t always fix what’s broken. It just leaves you with blood on your hands.”

Your throat tightened, the words sticking. He was too close now, the tension between you buzzing like a static current.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard it.

“Don’t be.” His words were soft as he pulled you closer. There was always a hint of warmth in his eyes, an unspoken kindness you admired.

The room felt smaller now, more heated. You opened your mouth to respond, but his words had stolen all the air from your lungs.

He leaned in, his voice dropping. “It’s easy to talk about morality in the abstract. But when you’re staring someone in the face—when it’s a real person, and not just an idea—it gets a lot harder to play God.”

Shit.

He was right.

Maybe utilitarianism wasn’t a steadfast rule. Maybe it couldn’t be, not when you factored in the messy, unpredictable depths of human existence. Lives weren’t just numbers to balance on a scale—they were stories, choices, pain, hope. And Bucky… Bucky was proof of that.

Your thoughts churned as you looked at him.

You felt your conviction unravel. It wasn’t just that his argument was sound—though it was (infuriatingly so)—it was the way he’d delivered it, the personal truth lending it undeniable power. And that’s when it hit you. That’s why you found him so damn attractive.

Sure, he was gorgeous. The sharp lines of his jawline, the piercing blue of his eyes, the way his Henley stretched over his shoulders like it had been designed with him in mind. But that wasn’t it. Not entirely.

It was him. His humanity. His thoughtfulness. The kindness that softened the edges, the depth that came from wrestling with his own darkness and coming out better on the other side.

And he was brilliant. For the first time, you felt like you’d met your match. Someone who met you on your turf and stood his ground, someone who didn’t just nod along or agree to avoid conflict. Someone who could challenge you, who could look you in the eye and make you see the world differently.

You thought you’d built your worldview on unshakable foundations, but he’d cracked it wide open, and now all you could do was stare at him with the dawning realisation that this wasn’t just attraction. It was something deeper, something that terrified and thrilled you in equal measure.

He wasn’t just a match for you physically; he was your intellectual equal—a rare kind of connection that made your pulse race and left your thoughts spinning.

Before you could stop yourself, before you could think it through, you leaned forward and kissed him.

It was impulsive—a collision of lips born from the fiery tension that had simmered between you for weeks. It was everything unsaid, every glance, every near touch that had lingered just a fraction too long, all boiling over in one moment. He froze for the briefest heartbeat, but then something in him snapped. His hands found you, pulling you closer, his grip possessive, almost desperate. Your hands made their way through the soft strands of his hair, landing comfortably around his neck.

The kiss, slow at first, quickly became frantic. Neither of you could get enough. The only thing that mattered was him—his lips on yours, his touch, the way his body pressed against you like a promise.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours, his lips curled into a breathless smile. For a second, he could forget about everything that has happened to him. For a second, he was truly, utterly safe in your arms.

“I didn’t think you were the type to kiss someone in the middle of a moral argument about Batman,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his lips grazing yours with every word, sending shivers down your spine.

“And I didn’t think you’d let me,” you replied, your voice laced with a mischievous edge.

His eyes darkened, his smile widening just enough to make your heart race before he closed the distance again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. This time, it wasn’t careful or calculated—it was raw, fervent, consuming. Your back hit the desk behind you, his hands sliding around your waist and around the curve of your bum, firm and deliberate, setting every nerve in your body on fire.

“The books,” he mumbled against your lips, glancing at the teetering stack beside you, the volumes threatening to topple.

“I don’t care,” you said breathlessly, and to prove your point, you swiped the entire stack to the floor with a crash. The sound echoed, but you barely heard it over the roaring thump of your heartbeat in your ears.

They weren’t too rare. You’ll just put them on the discount aisle tomorrow.

His response was a low, guttural groan, his lips finding yours again, His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make your head tilt back, exposing the sensitive curve of your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, his lips and teeth trailing along your skin, finding the spot just below your ear that made you gasp.

“Did I manage to change your mind this time?” he murmured against your ear, his voice rough and unsteady as his lips brushed against your jaw, then lower, tracing a heated path along your collarbone.

You managed a breathless laugh, your fingers slipping under his shirt to trace the veins under his skin, his muscles tensing under your touch. “Okay, so maybe ‘the greatest good for the greatest number’ isn’t always the best approach when you’re the one holding the short end of the categorical imperative,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

His laugh was husky, his hands lower to grip your thighs, pushing himself flush against you. “God, you’re something else,” he said, his lips finding yours again, this time slower, deeper, as though savoring you. When he finally pulled back, his voice was hoarse. “Do you want to go on a date?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “You’re seriously asking me that now?” you asked, breathless. With your hands trailing over the planes of his chest, his breath mingling with yours, it seemed a bit out of order, but you weren’t about to complain.

“Yes,” he said, his words dead serious despite the way his hands clutched at your shirt, his lips finding the hollow of your throat. He kissed the spot slowly, firmly, making your legs feel numb. “I mean it,” he added, his voice softer, yet no less insistent.

You let out a breathless laugh, tugging him into another kiss, the kind that left no room for doubt about your answer. “Then yes,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “We’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

And boy, were you excited to talk to this man— a man who could turn the simplest circumstances into a philosophical debate, someone who wasn’t afraid to dispute your ideals.

Someone who was your match.

“Later,” he rasped, his voice gravelly with need, his hands trailing up to tug his henley over his head in one fluid motion. The sight of him stole the breath from your lungs, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it before he was kissing you again, his bare skin pressed against you as he lifted your shirt off. “We can talk later.”

-end.

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jesstherebel · 1 day ago

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Live

Laugh

Love Bucky

#lmao #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #ca:tfa #ca:tws

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 day ago

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I Would Choose You In Every Lifetime » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend!40s Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader, Best Friend/TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky would choose a lifetime with you over anything else.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, best friends to lovers, crying, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Why do you insist on getting into fights?” You asked, cleaning blood off of Steve’s lip with a tissue.

“He started it.” Steve says like a child.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend and continued to clean the blood off of his lip and nose.

“What happened this time?” Bucky asks, walking in the alley.

“Nothing…” Steve answers, lying through his teeth.

Bucky knew he’d say that so he looked at you for the answer.

“Some guy was talking during the Army film and wouldn’t be quiet so him and Steve came back here to fight.” You tell him.

“I swear you like getting punched.” He says to Steve.

Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky.

“Did you get your orders?” Steve asks Bucky.

“The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes.” He answers with a proud smile.

“Oh my god! I’m so proud of you, Bucky!” You say, hugging him tightly.

Bucky smiles and hugs you back. You kissed his cheek before pulling away from the hug.

“I get shipped out tomorrow.” He tells you two.

The smile on your face faded away. You didn’t know he’d be getting shipped out this soon.

“Tomorrow?” You asked.

“I know it’s soon, but we can still spend the rest of today together.” Bucky says, handing a newspaper to Steve.

Steve read the top headline of the newspaper.

“Stark Expo.” Steve reads aloud.

“We’re going tonight and we got dates waiting for us.” Bucky says.

“You found a man for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, no. Sorry. I couldn’t find anyone for you, doll.” He apologizes.

“Oh. It’s ok.” You say.

“Come on. Let’s not keep the girls waiting.” He says, putting his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

You followed behind them. Truth be told, you were hoping that Bucky would ask you to be his date to the Stark Expo. You’ve had a crush on him for a while, but you don’t think he feels the same way about you.

When you three got to the Stark Expo, Bucky walked hand and hand with his date. He didn’t pay attention to you at all. Steve’s date paid little to no attention to him. You felt left out.

You stayed till Howard Stark displayed a floating car before walking out. You sat on the stairs in front of the building. Steve noticed you weren’t with him and Bucky anymore and went to find you. He found you crying on the stairs. He sat down next to you and gave you a tissue to dry your tears.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks softly with worry in his voice.

“I’m fine, Stevie.” You sniffled, lying through your teeth.

“No you’re not. Talk to me.” He says softly.

You fiddled with the tissue for a short moment before answering him.

“I’ve had a crush on Bucky for a while now and he brought a date with him. I was hoping he’d ask me to be his date to this, but he didn’t. He’s leaving tomorrow and he won’t know I’m in love with him.” You tell Steve. “I don’t even know if he feels the same way about me.” You added.

“Tell him. I’m sure he feels the same way.” He says.

“How?” You looked at Steve. “He’s with that girl.” You say.

Steve thought about it for a moment when he thought of something.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, standing up and walking away.

Steve walked back to the building. Bucky walked out of the door at the same time Steve approached it.

“I was wondering where you were.” Bucky says. “Where were you?” He asks.

“Comforting Y/N.” Steve answers. “She’s upset.” He says.

“Why’s she upset?” He asks.

“I think you should hear it from her.” He says. “She’s sitting on the stairs.” He tells him.

Bucky nodded and made his way to you. He heard your sniffles from a couple feet away. He sat down next to you on the stairs.

“Steve told me you’re upset. What’s wrong?” Bucky asks softly.

“What do you care? You have a girl with you tonight.” You say.

Bucky frowned. You’ve never talked to him like this. Even when you’re upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again.

“You wouldn’t care even if I told you.” You say.

“Never say that again. I care about you and you know it. Steve knows it too.” He says.

You lifted your head and looked at Bucky.

“If you cared, you wouldn’t have asked another girl to be your date to this thing.” You say.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” Bucky asks.

You scoffed before answering him.

“You barely paid attention to me tonight! It’s like I’m invisible to you.” You said, raising your voice a little bit. “You’re leaving for the Army tomorrow and you can’t you see that I’m in love with you!” You blurted out.

Bucky’s eyes went wide when you confessed your love to him.

“You’re in love with me?” He asks, making sure he heard you right.

“What does it matter?” You asked. “It’s not like you feel the same way about me.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

“It does matter.” He said. “Cause I’m in love with you too.” He confesses.

“You don’t mean it. You’re going to meet some nurse in the Army and fall in love with her.” You say before standing up.

Bucky was quick to stand up and grabbed your arm before you could walk away from him.

“Let go of me, James.” You said, trying to tug your arm out of his firm grip.

“Don’t do this, doll. I don’t want to spend my last day with you mad at me.” Bucky says.

“You don’t love me.” You said.

Instead of saying anything, Bucky kisses you passionately, catching you off guard. You kissed him back.

“I do love you, doll. You just won’t believe it.” He says softly, putting his forehead against yours and looking in your teary eyes.

You gazed in his beautiful blue eyes and caressed his cheek. Bucky leaned into your touch.

“Go fight for our country and try not to die, Buck.” You almost whispered with tears rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky slowly let go of you. He watched you walk away with a couple tears escaping his eyes. You didn’t want to do this, but you had to. Your heart broke into a million pieces as you walked away. Bucky felt like someone ripped his heart out of his chest and crushed it in their bare hands. You walked away knowing that you’re in love with one of your best friends and you don’t believe he’s in love with you.

70+ YEARS LATER…

Bucky can still hear the last words you said to him before he got shipped off to the Army. “Go fight for our country and try not to die.” are the only words being echoed in his mind. He felt like he failed you. He wishes that he poured his heart and soul out to you to confess his love for you, but you could only see him with girls who aren’t you. That’s something Bucky regrets… going on dates with girls who aren’t you. He should’ve asked you to be his doll forever when he had the chance.

“Bucky?” Sam says, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Bucky asks, looking at Sam.

“You ok?” He asks. “You looked like you were in a trance.” He says.

“Yea, I’m fine.” He says.

Bucky isn’t fine and Sam knows it.

“I know me and you don’t know each other like you and Steve did, but you can talk to me about it if you want.” Sam says.

Bucky looks down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers. He was quiet for a moment before saying anything.

“It’s about someone from my past… a girl.” Bucky finally spoke up.

“Was she your girlfriend or wife or something?” Sam asks curiously.

“No.” He answers. “Her name is Y/N and she was mine and Steve’s girl best friend.” He tells him. “Her and I got into a fight the night before I got shipped out to the Army.” He says.

“What was the fight about?” He asks.

“She was in love with me, but I was too stupid to pay her any attention that night and I asked another girl to be my date to Howard Stark’s Expo.” He explains. “I tried to tell her that I was in love with her, but she was too upset to believe me. Her last words to me were-” Bucky felt himself getting choked up on his words and took a deep breath before continuing his sentence. “Go fight for our country and try not to die.” He tells him, his voice cracking.

“Are you still in love with her?” Sam asks.

“I never stopped loving her.” Bucky said. “She wouldn’t believe me, even if she was alive.” He says.

“I’m sorry, man.” He says sincerely, patting his shoulder.

Bucky gave Sam a small smile before standing up and went to get some fresh air to clear his mind. He walked down the streets of New York with the light fall breeze blowing with his hands in his jacket pockets. He was walking past a coffee shop when he looked up and stopped in his tracks and seen someone- a woman from his past… you, working behind the counter at the coffee shop.

“Holy shit…” Bucky mumbles to himself.

Bucky entered the coffee shop at the same time you looked up from the cash register, making eye contact with him. He felt his heart skip a beat and your eyes went wide. Neither of you could believe what you two were seeing. Bucky stared at you like he just seen a ghost. You were staring at him with the same look on your face. You motioned one of your coworkers to the register before you walked over to Bucky. Bucky’s eyes never left you for a second. Yours didn’t leave him either. You two stared at each other in silence, not knowing what to say to each other.

“Do you umm- want some coffee?” You asked, remembering that you’re at work.

“Yes, that would be nice.” Bucky answers softly. “You know what I like.” He says.

You smiled and nodded your head before going to get him a coffee. Bucky sat down at a nearby table and patiently waited for you.

“Who’s the hot guy you were talking to?” One of the baristas asks.

“One of my guy best friends.” You answered quietly.

“Is he single?” She curiously asks.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at her.

“He’s yours. Got it.” She says before going back to work.

You put the lid on the cup and walked over to the table Bucky was sitting at. You put the coffee in front of him and sat down across from him. Bucky tapped his fingers against the paper cup and you fiddled with your fingers.

“How are you?” You asked after a short moment.

Bucky stopped tapping his fingers against the cup and looked at you. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question without getting upset.

“I’m good.” Bucky finally answers. “How are you?” He asks.

“I’m good too.” You answered.

Bucky nodded and took a sip of his coffee. You opened your mouth to say something, but one of your coworkers told you to get back to work. You took a pen out of your pocket and grabbed a napkin, writing your phone number and address.

“Here’s my phone number and address. I get off of work at 2:30pm.” You tell him.

“Ok.” He says.

You and Bucky stood up at the same time. He watched you walk back behind the counter, going back to work. Bucky smiles before leaving.

When it came time for the end of your shift, you finally went home. When you got home, you seen Bucky sitting on the front steps of your small house. It may not be much, but you call it home.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You say, walking to your front door.

“I’ll always come if it’s you. You know that.” Bucky smiles.

There is was again… the awkward silence.

“Let’s go inside.” You say.

“That would be nice.” He says.

You unlocked the door and walked inside of your house. Bucky followed behind you, closing the door behind him. Bucky took a look around while you took your jacket off and set your things down. He smiles when he seen pictures of you and your parents hung up on the walls. His heart skipped a beat when he seen a few pictures of you, him, and Steve on the wall.

“I suppose you want answers.” You say from behind him.

“Yes I do.” He says.

You and Bucky went to the living room and sat down on the couch so the two of you can talk.

“Let’s start with why you never told me or even Steve that you were alive.” Bucky says, getting straight to the point.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I should’ve reached out to one of you, but I was scared to.” You say.

“What have you could possibly be scared of?” He asks.

“HYDRA finding me.” You say.

Bucky felt his heart drop and his eyes widened when you said HYDRA.

“HYDRA got their hands on you?” Bucky asks, making sure he heard you right.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“When?” He asks.

“Shortly after you… you know.” You say, referring to when he fell off of the train in 1945.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at the thought of HYDRA getting their hands on you.

“What did they do to you?” He asks.

“Experimented different kinds of Super Soldier serums on me. None of them worked, except for one. It’s the one that worked for you and Steve.” You explained. “They put me through so many experiments. It hurt so bad.” Bucky didn’t miss the way your voice cracked. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Bucky. So I finally found the best opportunity to escape and I haven’t looked back since then.” You say.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point. Bucky immediately wrapped his arms around you. You melted into his touch like you used to do.

He was ready to start questioning why you didn’t reach out to him sooner, but that’s the furthest thing on his mind.

“I’m so sorry, doll.” Bucky apologizes softly.

“It’s not your fault, Bucky. You didn’t know.” You say and sniffled.

“I could’ve done something. I could’ve looked for you.” He says.

“You are doing something now. You’re holding me.” You say, looking up at him.

Bucky looks down at you. He seen a sparkle in your eyes through the tears. It’s the sparkle he always seen when you guys were younger. He hasn’t seen it in years. It made him smile when he seen it.

“I meant what I said the night before I left for the Army. I am in love with you. I have been for years.” Bucky tells you.

You could tell he meant it this time. Unlike the last time he said it.

You gazed in his beautiful blue eyes, getting easily lost in them. Your eyes drifted down to his lips. His lips look soft. You wondered to yourself if they were still as soft as the night he kissed you before he left for the Army. You leaned in and so did Bucky. It felt like everything was in slow motion when your lips met his. You two felt that same spark and passion from that night years ago.

Your hands grasped onto his shirt, clutching the fabric in your hands. Bucky’s right hand gently caressed your cheek. You two were lost in the kiss. There was so much passion in the kiss that it took your breaths away. You two finally pulled away, gazing in each other’s eyes breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, almost whispering. “I shouldn’t have let that night end like that. We should’ve ended that night on something good.” You murmured softly.

“That doesn’t matter anymore. As long as we’re together now, everything is going to be the way it should be.” Bucky softly says.

“I love you, Buck.” You say to him for the first time in years.

“I love you too, doll.” His thumb softly rubbed against the skin of your cheek. “I would choose you in every lifetime.” He whispers.

A smile grew on your lips. You softly and sweetly kissed him. Bucky smiles against your lips.

“I would choose you in every lifetime too.” You tell him.

“Does this mean you’re my doll now?” He asks in a whisper.

“Oh, Bucky…” You whispered, lifting a hand to caress his bearded cheek. “I’ve always been yours. Forever and always.” You tell him softly.

“Forever and always.” He whispers, kissing you once more.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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mohish-ko · 1 day ago

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★ He went to Zemo for another matter, but somehow ended up spilling everything he had bottled up ★

#artists on tumblr #winterbaron #bucky barnes #winter soldier #helmut zemo #baron zemo #bucky x zemo #thunderbolts #mcu fanart #mcu #bucky fanart #fanart #art #comics #marvel #marvel fanart #fyp #tumblr fyp

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

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Just Friends: Trapped Inside

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky takes you away.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky puts the tray of processed mac and cheese before you. You stare at the steam coming off of it. He has a fork in his other hand but hesitates to hand it over.

“For the food only,” he finally sets it down.

You pout, “Bucky, I wouldn’t...” you sink your chin down, “you know...”

“I do,” he agrees with a sigh. He pulls out the chair across from you. “Let’s talk.”

You sniffle and scratch your nose. You fight back tears as you keep your eyes on the noodles. You slowly take the fork and stir in the cheese.

“Do you have ketchup?” You ask.

He sucks in a breath then clucks, “sorry, no.”

You swallow and shrug, “that’s okay.”

He shifts and leans on his elbows, clutching one forearm as he crosses his arms. He taps his fingers on the table. He tilts his head, “will you look at me?”

Your lashes flutter and you obey. The last time you disobeyed him, he put you in a trunk. Your face contorts at that thought but you quickly tamp down the fear.

“Don’t... I’m not a monster,” he says.

You can’t say anything. You’re not sure about that anymore. Not sitting here in this strange underground bunker.

“I’m your friend,” he continues, “is it so bad that I want more? That I like you so much that--”

“No,” you blubber and quickly swipe away the tears as the spill. “No, if you were my friend you would listen to me.”

“Doll, where’s the fairness in that when you won’t listen to me?” His voice deepens.

“I did and I just... that’s not what I want. It’s not what I’m looking for--”

“I told you the same thing and you made me go on that date with that prissy bitch,” he snaps. You reel back in the chair and drop the fork, stunned by his harsh tone. He cringes and sits up, raising his palms as he calms himself. “Look, I said it over and over. That you were enough. You are enough for me, dreamy. You are everything to me.”

Your lip trembles and your chest locks up. Breathing hurts. You shrink down and mop your cheeks with your fingers, unable to stop the flow. It’s all broken now. There’s no going back. Why did he have to ruin it? You never meant to put that idea in his head.

“Dreamy,” he rasps and stands, “don’t cry, please--”

You flinch and hug yourself with a whimper. He staggers before he can come closer. He shakes his head, “no, no, you’re not going to make me feel that way. I haven’t hurt you.”

“You have,” you garble. “You... you... grabbed me and put me in the trunk and...”

“Because you need me. You need—You don’t get it. You don’t get it because you assume the best in everyone and everything. Even me. The world isn’t going to be nice forever.”

You snivel and try to suck back the deluge. You lower your eyes and steady your breath. You’re shaking as your grief is drowned out by something else. Anger.

“Like you.”

“Me?” He hisses and strides around the table.

You look up at him defiantly and furrow your nose like a rabid dog, “yes, you. You couldn’t just be nice. You couldn’t just take no for an answer.”

“What about you? It wouldn’t be like this if we didn’t go on that damn date!”

“No,” you snarl.

“Dreamy,” he points in your face, “watch it.”

You snap your mouth shut and wince. You stare at his finger then look him in the face, “or what?”

“You called Sam behind my back--”

“No, you threatened me,” you stand up. “What are you going to do now, huh? You already trapped me, so what else is left?”

“Dreamy, come on,” he grits.

“Don’t,” you sneer. “You don’t know how the world’s been to me. You don’t know that it’s always been nice. You just assume because you hate everything that everyone should. Well, I’ve seen hate and I don’t like it! Why do you think I’m alone? It’s not because the world is nice?”

You blink and glare up at him. Beneath all your frustration, embarrassment needles through. You shake your head and back away. He blocks you and grabs your arm.

“Dreamy, you never said. We’re friends so why--”

“No, we’re not,” you say. “You just want to use me, like everyone does.”

“That isn’t what this is.”

“Leave me alone,” you rip away from him and turn to swipe the tray off the table. “Just go away.”

You stomp away, bracing for him to grab you. He doesn’t. You cross the room and stop before the wall. There’s nowhere for you to go. You turn and pace one way, then the other. You sense him across the space, watching.

He gets down to clean up the mess. You ignore him as best you can. You walk in circles, driving yourself mad as reality bubbles up around you. He’s not going to let you go. Even if you hate him. If you could bring yourself to feel that.

You don’t see him and dare to peek over. He’s gone. You hear movement but don’t know where it’s coming from. Good, he can keep himself busy.

You go to the door and stare at the barrier. If only you had a metal arm. Your eyes burn again. You drop your head and turn your back to it. You can’t just stare a hole through it.

You press your back against the metal and slide down to your bottom. You bend your knees to your chest and hug them. You bow your head and let the sobbing shake through you.

The tears build a wall between you and the world. The sadness aches in your skull and scrapes in your throat. You heave until you’re spent and shivering.

There’s a click and the flames licks louder. You turn your head to look at the artificial fireplace. “Cold in here,” Bucky says. You close your eyes. “Got the bed made up. You’re tired. You need some good sleep.”

You don’t answer him as you turn your face down. You stay entirely still. You don’t have the strength to move. You'll sleep right here. You don’t want his guilt. Not when he won’t change what he did. That’s not guilt, that’s greed.

He nears and you squeeze your eyes tight. He scoops you up and you stay rigid. He carries you through the safe house as you stay closed up inside yourself. He puts on something soft but you don’t let go. You hide in the darkness, wishing that there was light left to see.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #just friends #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #au #captain america #avengers

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marie-sworld · 9 hours ago

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That was beautiful but painful at the same time. I loved how we see everything from beginning to Endgame. It was a beautiful one shot! 😍

His Flower.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/n have known each other since they were babies, they love each other but don’t say anything until Bucky goes to war.

Word count: 11,963

Warnings: angst. fluff. mentions of cheating (not Bucky) mentions of domestic abuse. Swearing. Steve never visits Peggy when she’s old. Bucky knew about Steve getting the serum. Pregnancy. Sad Bucky (that’s a warning in itself) Bucky was accused of the bombing in Vienna in 2015 in this. Blip happens but none of the avengers get blipped nor do any of them die. There’s a lot…so if I’ve missed anything please let me know

Masterlist

May 21st 1922

“Y/n stop running!”

“No”

“Why?”

“You have the lurgy”

Winnie and Y/m/n was standing in the shared courtyard laughing at the two five year olds as James ran after Y/n, the latter running as fast as her little legs could move.

The two women became friends rather quickly after Y/n, her mom and dad moved in next door just when Y/n was a year old. Baby James and Y/n spent everyday since they were introduced to each other, together.

“Those two…” Winnie laughed with a shake of her head as James finally grabs ahold of Y/n, her screams of laughter makes both mothers laugh along.

That was until the screams of laughter turns in to screams of pain.

James tripped over a loose concrete slab, in turn knocking into Y/n causing her to fall face first on the ground. Smacking her face and cracking her tooth.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry Y/n I’m sorry” James cried backing up as their mothers came rushing over. His tiny hands shook as tears streamed down his puffy cheeks, he could see the blood flowing from her lips when her mom picked her up.

“Mo-momma it wa-was acciden-t I promise”

“I know sweetie, it’s okay” Winnie said after she helped her friend. Seeing her son shaking and crying as he backs up to the wall furthest away from them broke her heart, she and Y/m/n knew it was an accident and they both knew that James would never hurt his friend.

“I-it was accident” he hiccuped.

“Wan’ Jamie, mama wan’ Jamie”

Hearing her teary voice he pushed himself off the wall and ran around his ma going straight to Y/n. “I got you” whispering in to her hair as he wraps his arms around her.

December 24th 1922

As the fire crackled next to James and Y/n as they played with his toy trains and cars Y/n’s parents argued in the kitchen, from what Y/n could tell from this latest argument was that her dad had been fucking another woman. Again.

“Jamie what fucking mean?”

“I don’t know. I think it makes you cry”

“Mama always cries when dada fucking other women”

James shrugs, honestly feeling a little bit scared because of the raised voices and things being slammed down on the counters though he was just five years old he was trying to be brave in front of his friend.

The voices got louder as Y/n’s mom was pushing her dad into the hallway, screaming at him that this was the last time and for him to never come back. A photo frame that hung up on the wall falls and smashes loudly on the floor causing James to flinch, Y/n notices and takes his hand in hers smiling - she’s grown accustomed to the bangs, screaming matches and things being broken that it doesn’t bother her anymore.

James flinched once again when the front door opens and slams shut with a deafening bang. His scared wide eyes looked at Y/n’s, she gets up and moves to sit next to him as her mom screams once more and stomps up the stairs no doubt to chuck all of her fathers clothes out of the window.

“I got you”

She promised as she wraps her small arms around his body.

March 10th 1923

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMIE”

Y/n screamed as she ran over to him, she was so excited for his birthday she had made him a card and got him a new wooden train.

“Ahhh who are you little monster?” He screamed when she jumped on his back.

“‘M not a monster”

“You are”

“Not”

“Are”

“Kids stop arguing, you’re both monsters” Winnie laughed hugging Y/m/n.

“It’s my birthday Flower”

“No it’s my birthday”

“No it isn’t”

Both moms roll their eyes as the kids continue to argue, heading into the kitchen leaving both of them to stand in the hallway arguing.

Y/m/n was sipping the coffee that Winnie had made her, Winnie expressed how happy she was for her friend for not taking back her husband, though finding it sad that he hadn’t been around to see Y/n. Luckily George stepped up and had even brought the five year old a present for Christmas.

“Mama where is present?” Y/n asked running up to her mom.

“Here sweetie and here’s the card you made” handing over the present and card, Y/n smiled and thanked her.

“Here you go Jamie. I made the card all by myself!”

“Thank you Flower” opening the card he smiles at her messy handwriting and the drawing of him and her that she drew. James gave her a kiss on her cheek before handing the card over to Winnie, then he opened the brown paper wrapping. “Flower…”

“It’s a train Jamie”

“I-thank you so much!” James had his other one stolen from Jimmy who lived across the street, mean kid who loved to bully younger kids.

“It’s okay. Do you like it?”

“I love it Flower”

June 2nd 1930

James and Y/n were walking down the street talking about how school went when James grabbed her hand causing her to pull it away and blush, giggling when he tried to grab her again.

“Flower stop, listen do you hear that?”

“No-wait now I do, what is it? Do you think it’s an animal? Can we keep it?”

“Yeah because animals can speak” he rolls his eyes, moving towards the entrance of the alleyway where the noise was coming from he turned to Y/n “stay here-“

“No I’m coming with you!”

“No you’re not. Just stay here”

Nodding in defeat Y/n watched him walk down the alleyway, a few minutes later she sees Jimmy and his goons running out and down the street. Running in the direction that James went she came to a halt when she saw him picking up a guy who was a lot smaller than him.

“Jamie who’s that?”

“Flower I told you stay where I told you to”

“Who is that?”

“M-my names Steve” the blonde said fixing his shirt.

“Hello Steve my names Y/n and this is James” moving closer to them she held her hand out to the blonde, turning to James “can we keep him?”

“Y/n he’s not an animal”

“But can we? We can be best friends forever and ever and ever and-“

“I’m sorry about her, she gets a bit excited sometimes” James said to Steve both watching Y/n go bright red as she continued to say ‘and ever’. “Flower breath”

“And ever and ever, please Jamie can we keep him I’ll be good forever and ever and ever-“

“Do you want to be our friend? Please say yes just to shut this one up”

Steve looked at both of them debating whether or not this was a prank, he’d gotten so use to being alone that the prospect of having two new friends scared him. But he could see the hopeful look in Y/n’s and James’s eyes, maybe just maybe this wasn’t a prank and maybe they genuinely want to be his friend.

“So…” Y/n asked getting impatient.

“O-ok, yes I’ll be your friend”

“Amazing! Come on we’re going to Mollys to get a burger-“

“And a milkshake! Have you ever been to Mollys? They make the best milkshake ever don’t they Jamie, they do so Stevie I swear”

“I apologise for her” James started.

Steve just smiled and shook his head “it’s okay bu-but I don’t have any money so I can’t come with you”

“Don’t worry about it Stevie I’ll pay for you. My father’s dead so we got money” Steve’s eyes went wide at how nonchalantly Y/n said that her father was dead.

“I-I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be I didn’t like him, so what milkshake do you want? They have vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. My favourite is strawberry and chocolate and Jamies is chocolate”

“Oh I-I’ve never had-“

James rolled his eyes as he knew what was coming. Steve looked at him wondering what he had said wrong when Y/n loudly gasped and threw herself on the ground.

“Flower-“

“He. Has. Never. Had. Milkshake. Before. Jamie”

“I know-“

“I-how, how does this even happen?”

“You going to get off the floor?”

“I can’t”

James leans over to take her hand in his and helped her stand. “Next time don’t throw yourself on the ground, your ma will get mad at you for ruining your skirt again”

“Come on Steve I’m going to blow your mind with the best milkshake in the world” ignoring James’s words she grabbed Steve’s hand and started to drag him to Mollys.

“Flower stop dragging him and be careful!”

To be truthful Steve didn’t honestly mind that she was dragging him along the pavement, he was quite excited about trying something new.

“Sooo whatcha think?” Y/n asked as soon as the glass was put in front of him.

“Flower he hasn’t even tried it yet” James laughed though he did have to admit that he was also wondering what his new friend was going to think of the drink.

Taking the straw in his mouth he took slow sips, liking the way it tasted straight away. “It’s good, I like it”

“Yes!” Y/n screamed causing some of the customers to look at her, not like she cared.

Luanne came over to serve them, she was an older lady who had grown use to the antics that James and Y/n liked to cause. As soon as she saw the two coming down the street she always had their milkshakes at the ready, knowing that on Monday, Tuesday and Friday Y/n had strawberry and the other days chocolate.

“Your usual darlings?”

“Yes please, Stevie what do you want?”

“I-I don’t have mo-“

“It’s on me I told you. We get burger and fries and they are the best”

“I-are you sure?”

“The best ever I promise”

“N-no about buying me food…you’ve already brought me a drink”

“Don’t be silly, do you want the same at us?”

“Okay, thank you”

Luanne smiled and walked away back to behind the counter. Steve watched as James or Bucky as he told him to call him, put his arm around Y/n’s shoulder and point at someone walking down the street. He couldn’t help but smile when Y/n laughed at whatever Bucky had said.

The food had come and true to her word it was amazing, Luanne came back over to hand them new drinks winking at Y/n who winked back, he found out that the second milkshakes were free. For the first time in Steve’s life he laughed and smiled genuinely, he had no idea that being beat up in some dingy alleyway would lead him to be making two new friends who actually seemed like they cared about him already.

Steve knew he had made two friends for life.

14th February 1931

“Hey Stevie” Y/n sang as she skipped up to him.

“Hey Y/n/n you still doing that?” Referring to her skipping, it was a new phase she was going through. Every where she went she skipped.

“Of course” she giggled.

“Where’s Bucky?”

“With his girlfriend” she grumbled. Poor James thought his best friend liked his girlfriend but Steve observant as always knew that this was indeed not the case.

“Yo-you still don’t like her I guess?”

“No. Are you okay? Is your eczema play-“

“Asthma, Y/n I have asthma”

“Oh yeah ah, is it playing up today?” Receiving a nod she nods too. “How about we walk super slow so you can catch your breath”

“I-I need to g-get back to home, n-need to help ma cle-clean up”

“That’s okay I’ll help you and your mom I don’t mind”

“A-ar-are you sure?”

“Of course, plus I’ve missed your mom”

Arriving at the Rogers’s residence Sarah greeted Y/n with a tight hug and a kiss to her cheek happy to see the young girl again. Ten minutes into cleaning Y/n told Steve to sit down as his asthma was getting worse, Sarah tried to help out but Y/n just shook her head and told her that it was fine.

She truly didn’t mind helping in cleaning up, she had grown use to having to do it at home since her mom was always working and her step father was too lazy and drunk most of the time to do it.

A year after kicking her father out of the house for the last time her mom got divorced from him as he was wanting to marry the woman he had been cheating on her with. Unfortunately her mom married another lazy man who only thought of himself.

But her mom was happy so Y/n was happy for her.

When her father died for some reason her mom received all his money. Which it had annoyed his new wife tremendously.

“It’s getting late darling, you should head home-oh just before you go here’s some mon-“

“No need to Mrs Sarah, I’ll see you tomorrow Stevie”

Waving goodbye and leaving the house before Sarah could argue about giving her money, skipping down the street she didn’t realise how dark it was when she was in the warm home that belonged to the Rogers.

As she got closer to home she came to a stop when she heard strange noises come from an alleyway, choosing to inspect the sounds she crept down the dark path, furrowing her eyebrows at hearing two different voices she was about to pop her head around before freezing.

“Oh Bucky” a girl moaned.

Slapping her hand across her mouth she started to stumble back. Of course she knew that James was going to be having sex, he was handsome and every girl wanted him, and of course she knew what they was doing she wasn’t stupid but hearing what followed after the girl moaned broke her heart.

He called his girlfriend Flower.

The name that he had always called her he was now calling someone else it. It was her nickname that he gave her since they was four and now he was calling some girl he had been dating for two months her name.

It broke her heart.

For three weeks she had managed to successfully avoid James she knew it was silly for not talking to her best friend over a nickname that he had every right to call someone else but she just couldn’t help but feel down knowing that she wasn’t his flower anymore.

“Y/n, Bucky and Steve’s here for you” her mom shouted from the door, she could hear her talking to them from where she was stood at from the top of the stairs.

Her heart dropped when her mom told both boys just to head up to her room. Scrambling and knocking over her little brother she ran into her room, shutting the door quietly before jumping on the springy mattress causing the metal bed frame to squeak loudly.

“Knock knock little monster” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Come in” and she also knew that he would be frowning at her response, it wasn’t the usual one she gave him.

“Hi Flower” if he noticed her tensing he didn’t say anything about it.

“Hi Y/n/n”

“Hi boys. What are you doing here?”

“Missed you, you haven’t been around much” James said watching her reaction.

“I’ve been busy” she shrugged. It wasn’t a total lie but wasn’t the whole truth either.

“Doing?” James knew that she was lying, whenever she did she could never look him in the eyes.

“Things”

“What kind of things?”

“Things James! I do not understand why you are so nosey”

“Because I miss my Flower” stating it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He frowned when she flinched at his nickname for her. “W-what was that for? Why did you flinch”

“I-I don’t know what your talking about”

“You flinched when I called you Flower”

“You did Y/n” Steve interrupted, he did hate having to come in between his best friends but he knew that if he didn’t it would probably go on and on.

“I-“ sighing with a huff she shrugged her shoulders. She knew James better than anyone she knew he wasn’t going to give up any time soon. “I heard you”

“Heard me? What are you talking about?”

“Calling your girlfriend Flower”

“I-I’ve never-”

“In the alleyway when you were having sex”

Steve shifted awkwardly on his feet whilst James stood still like a statue. He couldn’t understand what the problem was, so what he was having sex at least it was with his girlfriend, why would his best friend be upset about that?

“You called her Flower James.”

Oh. Oh shit.

“I-you-it-“

“Whatever it’s just a nickname right? I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you in weeks but it hurt Jamie, but she’s your girlfriend-“

“I broke up with her”

“Right…so can we be friends again?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I broke up with her?”

“No. I just want to be your flower again”

“You’ve always have been Y/n, nobody will take that away from you”

Sliding off the bed she jumped on James, wrapping her arms and legs around him hugging him like she had never done before.

Yes it hurt because he had called someone else the name he had given her but she realised she was being silly for not talking to him over it, he was her best friend as well as Steve and that’s all that mattered.

December 10th 1941

The Second World War had been going on for three years and now America was getting involved after the attack on Pearl Harbour, it’s all everyone spoke about, before there was young men leaving their homes and families to go over to Britain to help fight, a fight they had no reason to be apart off other than to help beat the bad guys, now no one had a choice but to fight.

When James told Y/n that he too enlisted in the army it crushed her heart, she knew he was doing it to help defend his country but that didn’t stop her from being scared. Scared of losing him.

“I can do this all day” Steve panted as the guy tried to get closer to him and Y/n. Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Steve’s confidence, she knew that he could not in fact do this all day. His asthma was getting the better of him.

Just as Steve was about to leap forward to defend himself and Y/n the guy was pulled away by the scruff of his jacket.

“Pick on someone your own size” James kicked the guy away, watching as the bully scramble away.

Y/n and Steve stood there frozen on the spot at seeing James dressed in his uniform.

It was really happening. She was going to lose her best friend.

“Why are you wearing that?”

“Because I’m a pirate. I’ve been recruited Flower, I ship out tomorrow” though James had a smile on his face his stomach churned at reminding himself of when he was going to fight, churned at not knowing when he was going to see his Flower or Steve again or if he ever would.

“Tomorrow? T-that’s not enough time-no Jamie you can’t-“

“I have to Y/n-“

“Tell them no.”

“You want me to tell the US Army no?”

“Yes”

“Flower”

“Or I’ll do it if your to chicken”

“Chicken? Really?”

“Guys stop arguing.” Steve tried to intervene but it was too late. He watched as his two best friends argued back and forth, feeling annoyed at the fact that he had been rejected once again no matter what name he used or what area he said he was from. And yet his best friend had been accepted by the Army and was allowed to go and fight against the bad guys.

“Anyway come on, we’re going to the Stark Expo”

What James failed to mention to the pair that he had a date with Connie or was it Bonnie? He couldn’t actually remember but whoever he was going on a date with the other girl was for Steve, he felt slightly bad that Y/n would have to be fifth wheeling even if he knew that she would end up leaving under the arm of some guy.

“-so I told him that he had to look after his own children you know? And guess what he said to me-Stevie? Ste-not again” Y/n muttered when she realised that not only had she been talking to herself for god knows how long, but when she turned around she saw the small frame of her best friend going into a recruiting tent that was set up at the Expo.

Following after him she watched as he went into a small makeshift room, entering she laughed when Steve tried to cover his naked chest.

“Steve seriously? You can’t keep doing this-“

“Why not? I can fight, just because I’m smaller then everyone including you doesn’t mean that I can’t help“

“You’d be killed straight away Steven!”

“So what?”

“So what? Steve-“

“I’ve agreed to be part of a science project for a doctor-“

“A science project? Steve what the hell are you talking about?”

“I-it doesn’t matter what does matter is that I’ve been accepted and I’m going to war”

“No. I forbid you from going”

“Forbid me?” Steve scoffed finding her behaviour stupid. He wanted to do that right thing and she was forbidding it. Ridiculous. “You can’t stop me Y/n”

“I-I don’t want to lose you too”

“What are you talking about? Buck will be fine”

“He might not Steve you don’t know this. I can’t-don’t want to lose my best friends please just stay with me here an-and wait for Ja-“

“No Y/n I’m doing this! Stop being selfish”

Being called selfish had whatever response she was going to reply back with to die on her tongue. Y/n was called selfish time and time again by her step father when she wouldn’t look after her siblings, his children. She had grown to detest that word, hated to be called it which James and Steve knew.

Steve instantly knew that he had messed up but before he could apologise he watched his best friend nod, spin on her heels and walked out.

James looked around with a smile on his lips when the flying car got higher off the ground frowning when he didn’t see Flower or Steve, his eyes darted around to find them, his left eye twitched slightly when he saw Y/n coming out of the recruiting tent he knew she had probably tried to talk to Steve out of signing up.

Ever since the war was declared Steve had become slightly obsessed with going on the front lines along with the rest of the hero’s and fight. James and Y/n took it in turns to get Steve away from the recruiting centres, took it in turns comforting him when he got turned down because of his health problems.

Leaving the girls where they were he went to find Steve to see what had happened. “Steve seriously man just give up”

“Don’t start Buck I’ve had enough of Y/n trying to stop me.” Steve told Bucky how Dr Erskine had given him the opportunity of joining the war to the whole conversation between him and Y/n, he quietly told his best friend that he had called their friend selfish.

“You called her selfish? Steve!”

“I know okay I know I messed up but-“

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No, I thought she was going to find you”

Bucky goes to reply when he gets interrupted by the two girls that he and Steve were meant to be on a date with, asking if they were still going dancing, James sighed before telling them no he had other plans. The girls wasn’t happy but James didn’t care, he needed to find his Flower.

Saying his goodbyes to Steve he turned on his heels to go to Y/n’s house.

Knocking on the door he waited patiently for someone to open, Y/n’s little sister opened and smiled instantly showing Bucky her missing front teeth. “Y/ns in her room”

“Thanks little one”

“‘M not little anymore!” She pouted, the same pout that reminded him of Y/n’s when she was younger.

“No, no you’re not” ruffling her hair he laughed when she tried to hit him, he’s always had a habit of winding up their younger siblings.

Bounding up the stairs nearly tripping over the toy train that belonged to her younger brother he turned the corner and knocked on Y/n’s bedroom door.

“Go away”

“Wow that’s rude Flower”

“Jamie?”

“Who else is calling you flower?”

“No one”

“Are you going let me in or we going to keep talking with a door in between us?”

“You may enter”

Entering her bedroom his heart clenched in his chest at seeing her eyes and cheeks red, tear strained track marks on her puffy cheeks. Ever since they were young he’s always hated seeing her cry.

His stomach dropping when he sees the photograph in her hands, knowing exactly which one it was. James had dragged Y/n and Steve to Coney Island for the day, James made Steve go on the Cyclone which was absolutely terrifying yet amazing at the same time. Steve didn’t quite enjoy it like Bucky or Y/n as he vomited pretty much everywhere.

Winnie, had taken the photo that morning they were standing outside the home James grew up in, smiling at the camera. Y/n in the middle of the two guys, Bucky had his arm around her shoulder and she had hers around Steve.

It was the only photo she had of the three of them.

“Flower…”

“He’s leaving me too, a doctor-a scientist has told him that he can join if he takes part in an experiment James. I-I don’t want to lose you both Jamie”

“Hey-hey your not losing either one of us doll-“

“But I am. This war is dangerous and if I lose either one of you I-I-“

“I promise you that I’ll come back-“

“You can’t promise me that Buck”

“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, you know this. And I’ll always come back to you Y/n, always. Especially if you let me make an honest woman out of you” his voice went quieter, serious, hopeful that she would hear the genuine words that he spoke.

“You…want to-after going on a date with someone else on your last night of freedom-want to make an honest woman out of me?”

“I, yes. Y/n flower it’s always been you”

“I should be the one making an honest woman out of you-wait-what?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her facial expression when she finally registers his words “I’ve been in love with you for so long Y/n”

“And you’re telling me this the night before you ship off to god knows where?”

“You know me Flower, I’ve always been good with timing”

“You really aren’t” she laughed.

“Am too. But what do you say? When I get back I’ll marry you, get us a nice house maybe on a farm? We can have all the animals you want-yes even a dinosaur even though they don’t exist-and we’ll have children, and we can be happy forever”

“Y-you really want that with me?”

“There’s no one else in this world that I want that life with Flower”

Instead of verbally answering she threw herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding so fast Bucky thought her head might fall off. Bucky held her face in between his hands just staring at her, he knew that she would never see herself in the same way he has always seen her, he lent in pressing his lips to hers hopefully being able to show her how much he loved her without saying those words out loud.

That night they slept arm in arm with one another both equally dreading for the sun to come up.

When the sun finally made an appearance, he left with the promise that he would be back in an hour so that their families could walk him to the docks, and not without stealing another kiss from her.

Hand in hand an hour later with Winnie, Rebecca, Y/m/n, Y/n’s stepdad and siblings met up with Steve who was waiting outside Mollys with three milkshakes. Everyone walked ahead whilst the three best friends walked slowly behind them, wanting to try and delay the inevitable.

“My promise still stands Flower, I’ll come home and we’ll have the perfect life together. I promise”

“You best come home to me then Jamie or I’ll beat you up”

“Wouldn’t doubt that for a second” he chuckled, everyone else joins in. “I promise to be safe and come home to you Flower. And I’ll write to you when I can okay?”

“I’ll write back to you I promise.”

When the last signal called for all soldiers to get on the ship, Bucky swallowed the sob that tried to make its way out of his plumb lips. Hugging his ma and sister one last time, and his best friends mom and siblings before making his way to Steve, hugging Steve he asked the blonde to look after Y/n which Steve promised he would. Standing in front of Y/n he smiled sadly and wiped her tears away before kissing her one last time, he’d already grown addicted to the way she tasted and the way her lips fit perfectly against his.

He couldn’t wait until he got back so he could spend the rest of his life kissing her.

March 15th 1942

“Y/n there’s a letter here for you!” Her little sister shouted from the bottom of the stairs, there was only one person that would be writing to her, hearing her sister she fell out of the bed with how fast she was trying to get out of it, running down the stairs she grabbed the letter out of her sisters hand.

“Y/n slow down” her mom tried to warn her but it was no use she was already running back upstairs. The excitement getting the better of her. Ripping open the envelope she settled back on her bed.

***

Dear Flower,

It’s been three months since I last saw you and I’m missing you more and more everyday, how are you? Have you been missing me? How’s Steve been? I’ve wrote to him too but I know you’ll tell me the truth.

I’m still holding on to my promise I made so don’t be finding any other man, please.

I’m sorry it’s not the longest letter but I don’t have much time, I’m sorry.

I love you Flower, I should have told you that the last time I saw you but just know I do with all my heart, I’ll see you soon.

All my love

Your Jamie.

***

“So…what did he say?” Y/n was so engrossed in the letter she didn’t hear her bedroom door squeak open or see her mom and sister standing in the doorway.

“H-he said he loves me, momma he loves me”

“Have you only just noticed?”

“What?”

“That boy has been in love with you for as long as I can recall” her mom said as matter of factly.

“I-I need paper a-an-and a pen I need to tell him that I love him too”

Her mom smiled before handing her a piece of paper and a pen that she hid behind her back, she even gave her money so she could get a stamp to put on the letter.

***

Dear Jamie,

I love you.

I’ve been doing good, helping down at the factory with the rest of the women it’s good, I’ve made a friend her names Dot her husband is also fighting, she’s got two kids and Jamie they are the cutest little kids I’ve seen! Of course I have been missing you Jamie! Steve’s doing okay, he’s got a crush on a British woman names Peggy (but don’t tell him I told you that) she’s pretty, smart and really nice. I think she likes him too!

No other man will take me away from you Jamie I promise, I can’t wait to marry you and be able to wind you up for the rest of our lives together, I’m joking. Or am I?

Don’t apologise for your letter being short, anything is better than not having any from you, as long as you are okay and safe that’s all that matters to me.

I love you with all my heart to Jamie, honestly and truly.

Be safe and come home to me.

All my love

Your Flower.

***

Folding the letter and sliding it in an envelope her mom had given her when she was writing, she slipped her letter into the envelope sealing it off she ran downstairs slipping her shoes on she ran out of the house and down the street to the post office.

“A-a s-stamp pl-please” she panted at the worker.

The second the stamp was sealed securely on her envelope she posted it. Her heart raising rapidly, the temptation to just stand there and wait for the mailman to collect all the letters was there until someone cleared their throat from behind her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry” she muttered before leaving, now she just had to wait now until Bucky wrote her back. Shouldn’t be too long. Hopefully.

June 21st 1943

She last received a letter from James three months ago, he told her where he was and how he was doing, told her all about his comrades, told her that he’d come back to her. Ended that letter like the rest, with him telling her how much he loved her. Writing back as quickly as possible she told him how things were going, telling him about her news friends from the factory, and like all the others she ended it with telling him how much she loved him.

Everyday for three months she waited patiently for a letter to come, sighing deeply when she never received one. She was starting to get nervous at the prospect of something bad happening to him, but she kept pushing that thought away as she saw Rebecca everyday at the factory and she hadn’t said anything to her.

Six months after James left for war Y/n moved to a small apartment above the post office, it was small but enough for just her. One night after finishing her shift at the factory, Mary who worked at the post office came running out to her handing her a letter, Y/n ran up the stairs struggled to open her front door like always before she managed to get it to open, quickly closing and locking the door - keeping her promise to James who had made her promise to keep her front door locked at all times.

***

Dear Flower,

I’ve missed you terribly. How are you? I hope you’re okay and safe.

How’s Steve doing? He’s not been really responding to my letters. I’m a bit worried about him.

I’m sorry my letters are getting shorter, it’s just things have been hectic lately.

You’re in my thoughts and prayers every day and night, I’ll come home soon and I’m all yours forever I promise.

I love you more than anything Y/n.

All my love

Your Jamie.

***

Wiping her tears she moved to get her paper and pen, settling on her couch she started to write.

***

Dear Jamie,

I’m missing you more and more every day, I’m doing okay and I’m safe, you do not need to worry about me just as long as you are safe and sound that’s all that matters to me.

Steve will be getting the serum tomorrow (22nd June) I’m scared for him but Peggy has told me that everything will be okay. She’s even said I can come along too, Rebecca has said she will cover my shift because she’s an angel. Steve’s been busy but he’s okay I promise, oh…he jumped on a grenade BUT don’t worry it wasn’t a real one! I screamed and cried when Peggy told me, then I smacked Steve…he deserved it.

I’ve already told you not to worry about the shortness of your letters, I reread every single one of them over and over again.

You’re in my thoughts and prayers day in and day out.

I love you more and more than you’ll ever know.

All my love

Your Flower.

***

Sealing the letter in the envelope she unlocked the door and skipped downstairs where Mary unlocked the door and handed her a stamp, Mary knew the routine that Y/n had every time she got a letter that she waited long after closing so her new friend could post it that same day.

“Thanks Mary”

“Don’t need to thank me, how is he?”

“He didn’t say…but he said he misses me, it’s hectic over there so”

“It’s understandable, are you meeting Steve and that Brit tomorrow?”

“Peggy-“ Y/n laughed “-and yes, it’s a very big day tomorrow”

“What’s happened again?”

“H-he has a special operation and I’m just going for emotional support” she smiled, Peggy told her not to say anything to anyone but Mary had overheard Y/n talking to Steve about it. So she told her Mary that it was an operation he was having.

“Well I hope it goes well. I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight darling”

The next morning Y/n waited outside for Steve and Peggy to show up, nearly ten minutes later a sleek black car pulled up and Peggy got out greeting her. Instantly regretting sitting in the middle of two people who were flirting, made worse by Steve as he didn’t realise that Peggy was in fact flirting.

Just like the car ride Y/n blanked out most of what Dr Erskine was waffling on about, her eyes kept going to the bed where Steve lay strapped in to Howard Stark, still slightly star struck.

Everything happened next was lost on her. Her heart raced when she heard Steve screaming in the chamber, a beast of a man was released from said chamber it looked like Steve, her best friend Stevie but this guy was huge. Strong. Muscly. Taller.

Before Steve had to look up to her and now it was the other way around. He said her name and smiled, he pulled her into his arms as she gaped at her best friend’s transformation. Steve released her to look at Peggy as she moved closer.

The unmistakable bang of a gun firing sounded in the room, Steve wasted no time in knocking Y/n on the ground covering her body with his. Dr Erskine had been shot, Steve took off barefoot after the gunman, Y/n’s hands were drenched in blood as she tried to put pressure on the wound, Howard Stark helping her by covering his hands over hers.

It all happened in a blur.

It all happened to fast.

She didn’t like it, she was scared.

She wanted Jamie.

She was always safe with her Jamie.

“Y/n? Y/n look at me love, it’s Peggy. I need you to concentrate”

But she couldn’t. There was too much blood. There was chaos in the background and the only thing she could focus on was the shaking of her hands covered in someone else’s blood.

“Y/n please darling snap out of it” that sounded a lot like Howard she thought to herself.

She could hear them talking then she saw Howard standing and moving away slowly. Then everything came into focus. The look of distress in Peggy’s eyes, the destruction of the room, the white sheet covering a body.

“S-Steve?”

“He’s, he’s okay. We need to go love”

“I-I-I want Jamie”

“I know but he isn’t here right now an-and he will be rather mad at me if I don’t get you out of here, so please follow me��

Despite the blood on Y/n’s hands Peggy still took them in hers and helped her stand, although Peggy didn’t really know Y/n all that well she knew that Steve cared deeply for her, making her care about the woman. Her main focus was getting Y/n to safety and then she could worry about everything else.

December 10th 1944

It’s been well over a year since Y/n watched Dr Erskine get shot and killed, in that year she went back to work in the factory. Nothing really changed for her in that year that had gone by, months would go by without a letter from Bucky she knew that he was still alive as his family wasn’t informed to state that he was dead.

It brought her some relief. But that didn’t stop the sadness from sinking in when she didn’t get a letter.

Steve had become a circus monkey for America, gaining himself the name Captain America. When she saw one of his shows for the very first time she couldn’t stop laughing. The outfit. The way he looked so unsure and uncomfortable. The music. The acting. It was laughable.

“Stop laughing Y/n” Steve said walking into the tent as she followed behind him.

“I-god you look ridiculous Stevie”

“Stop laughing!” He tried to act mad but her laugh had his lips turning upwards. For Steve it had been a long time since he heard her laugh like that. He missed it.

In October of 1943 Steve showed up at her apartment acting different, he was quieter, avoided talking about Bucky. Y/n had asked him if there was something wrong but all he did was give her a tight lipped smile and shook his head.

He wanted to tell her that he was told that Bucky and his unit had been captured as POWs, he wanted to reassure her that he was going to do everything in his power to get him back, to bring him home to her so they could get the life he’s knows they’ve always wanted with each other.

But he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to say them words and see her smile fade, tears gather in her eyes so he remained silent and listened to her rambling about something one of the girls said at work.

He couldn’t fail her, he was going to bring Bucky back no matter what it took.

Unbeknownst to Y/n not only was Bucky captured and then saved by their once scrawny little friend but that in ten minutes there was going to be a knock at the door and she’d be taken by two soldiers to go somewhere.

“It’s like I’m invisible” Bucky mutters when Peggy doesn’t even give him a second glance, he found it funny that Peggy had to practically spell it out for the blonde to understand what she was trying to hint. He knew that if Y/n was here and saw the exchange she would have been smiling so wide with her hands clasped together against her heart.

A small smile made its way to his lips as he thought about Y/n, his Flower. As soon as he got back to camp from being saved by Steve he went straight to his tent and wrote a letter to her, sealing it up in an envelope he got from one of the soldiers, giving it to the person he needed to for it to be sent off. Already excited for her letter. He missed her more than anything.

“You thinking about her Buck?” Steve’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Of course, she’s always on my mind-what?”

“Who’s always on your mind?”

“Ms Potts from down the street-“ he rolled his eyes “-Y/n, you’re an idiot sometimes Steve I swear”

“I’m always on your mind Jamie?”

Bucky’s eyes went wide looking Steve in the eyes, the blonde just smiled at him. Slowly turning around, his heart thumped loudly in his chest, blood rushing in his ears he turned to find the source of the voice he has missed hearing.

Well aware that his unit, his team, strangers that became friends were standing around, he didn’t care if they saw their Sergeant with tears gathering in his eyes.

He didn’t care about anything other than Y/n who was currently standing in front of him. Her flower print dress fit perfectly, lightly moving as she stands there. Her eyes focused on him as he took her in, god she was so beautiful.

“F-Flower?”

“Hi Jamie”

“Wha-how-your really here? I’m not dreaming again am I?”

“No” she giggled, the sound making his heart tingle.

“If you don’t kiss her I will” Dum Dum shouted making everyone laugh. But not Bucky. No it made him move quicker than he’d ever moved before, cupping her face in his hands he smiled before placing his lips to hers. Steve joined in with everyone else as they cheered and clapped.

“You’re really here” Bucky whispered against her lips, resting his forehead against hers breathing in her scent.

“I’m really here”

That night he took her to his hotel room that they had been allowed to stay at, and made love to her for the first time. Three times that night. One more time before they had to say goodbye to each other again.

Just as she was about to get into the car Bucky kissed her one last time, and got down on one knee, proposing to her with a metal nut - that he had found in the room they shared - asking her to marry him before she could answer he promised that once he was back he’d buy her a ring.

Kissing him she held out her hand for him to slid the nut onto her finger.

“I’m getting married to my Flower” he said as the car that carried his love away. Steve smiled at his best friend’s happiness.

January 28th 1945

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Dot asked Y/n as she threw up for the second time that day.

“I’m okay. Must have been something I ate”

“You sure? Didn’t you say you saw James last month?”

“Yes…why?”

“Did you two…you know”

“Wha-oh, yes, a few times” she admitted, her cheeks going bright red.

“Do you think? Maybe? Right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You might be pregnant” Dot whispered.

Her head spun as the words from her friend settled in. She hadn’t had her period she realised. No. Surely not, right?

“Go and see the doctor after your shift and check” Dot continued.

“I have half an hour off before I start back up again”

“I’ll cover you”

“You’ve got kids you need to-“

“My mom’s here to help me, I’ll be fine”

“But-“

“No buts missy, you need to find out if you are.”

After twenty minutes of arguing back and forth with Dot, Y/n finally caved. Going to the hospital she waited patiently for her bloods to be taken. Completely unaware that across town two families were receiving the worst news.

Getting her keys out of her bag she froze when she saw Steve standing outside her apartment dressed in civilian clothing as Bucky called it now.

“Steve? Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Y/n, I need to talk to you”

“Is it Jamie? Steve? Where’s Bucky?”

But Steve didn’t answer instead he took her keys from her shaking hands and unlocked the door, pushing it open he turned to grasp her arm and guided her in to her apartment. His heart sinking further into his stomach than it already was before coming to her apartment, when he saw the metal nut still sitting on her finger.

“Steve…”

“I failed you Y/n/n I-I’m so sorry”

“He’s okay. He is. I know it”

Shaking his head the scene replying over and over in his head like it had for the past week since he watched his best friend fall to his death “H-he-he’s gone Y/n, I’m so-sorry” He jumps up just in time to catch her as she falls to her knees, a painful sob leaving her lips.

Sadly Steve wasn’t done.

“Y/n…there’s something else, Michael…he’s been killed”

Michael was her half brother. She was close with him, closer to him than she was with her younger siblings. Michael never failed to make her laugh, he always acted like he was the oldest one of the two though there was eight years between them. Y/n was the first person he told when he got his orders from the Army, she hugged him as he cried. It’s not that he didn’t want to fight and help it was that he was terrified.

“No! No you’re lying.”

Helping her stand he took her home where her mom’s screams and cries could be heard from outside the home. Watching as mom and daughter cling together from the doorway Steve let a few tears fall.

Two days after finding out that her best friend turned fiancé and her sweet younger brother were killed Y/n found out she was pregnant. A few weeks later they buried Michael.

On the second of March 1945 Peggy arrived at Y/n’s apartment, eyes red and swollen. They held each other as they cried. Y/n gathered that Steve never got his letter to let him know he was going to be an uncle.

When Peggy noticed the small prodding bump her heart ached. She knew she had to keep the promise that she gave Steve, that she would look after Y/n. Steve had told Peggy that just before Bucky fell he told the blonde to look after his fiancée, the two best friend’s last thoughts were on their best friend and fiancée. Neither one knowing that she pregnant.

A month later Y/n and her family, Winnie and Rebecca were at the cemetery, she smiled sadly when she felt her baby kick for the first time when the preacher said James Buchanan Barnes, they watched as two empty coffins were put into the ground.

She knew that the baby she was growing inside of her would have been so loved and spoiled by its father and uncle Stevie, it broke her heart knowing that her unborn baby would never meet the two greatest men she had ever known.

Five years passed after she lost three men closest to her. After she gave birth to a healthy beautiful baby girl that she named Hope Jamie Barnes, she moved out of the tiny little apartment she had and moved into a farm house that had acres of land.

Just because her Jamie wasn’t with her anymore didn’t mean she was going to give up on the life that he had planned for them. She still wore that metal nut, everyone thought it was strange but luckily for her they never asked about it. However it no longer sat on her finger but around her neck on a silver chain.

A wedding ring sat there now instead.

Two years after Hope was born her mom made her get married. “You’re twenty nine now Y/n you need a husband” her mom told her, reluctantly she agreed and married a man named Frank. At first Frank was okay, nice even but things changed only after a few months of marriage. It started with small things such as telling her what to wear, how to act. Then it turned nasty, the abuse was mental, verbal and physical.

Three years into their marriage she had become numb and use to it all. Became use to the women talking and giggling like school girls when they saw her in the store or on the streets, the same women who were sleeping with her husband. It didn’t bother her anymore that her husband was cheating on her, the more women he had to satisfy him the more he was away from her home, the less she got beaten and berated.

It didn’t even bother her that he had gotten one of his mistresses pregnant or when the mistress’s husband found out and beat Frank to within an inch of his life. In fact she smiled.

Y/n and Peggy’s friendship became non existent after Y/n got married and Peggy married Daniel Sousa, when Peggy and Daniel started dating Peggy had asked Y/n if she was wrong for it but Y/n told her that she deserved to be happy and if he gave that to her then she should have that happiness.

Peggy worried if Steve would have been mad, Y/n had to remind her that he wouldn’t have wanted her to live a life of loneliness.

When Hope was five she was wise for her age, she knew Frank wasn’t her father, she knew her daddy had passed away when he protected the country from the bad guys. Hope enjoyed her nighttime stories where her mama would tell her all about her father, hearing about how funny, kind and loving her father was always made the little girl smile. One night Y/n showed Hope the few photographs she had of James, Hope giggled and pointed at her eyes and then at James’s “same mommy same”. It was true, Hope had the same colour eyes as Bucky and like Bucky’s eyes they changed lighter when she was happy or giggling, turned darker when she was sad or when she was poorly.

Every Sunday Y/n and Hope had a routine, they would go to the cemetery to put flowers down on the graves of James and Steve. They would sit on a blanket and eat the sandwiches that Y/n would take with them, they would sit, eat and talk for hours - depending on the weather. Hope would show the headstones all her drawings and tell them all about her schooling and friends, told them her favourite colour - the rainbow that’s her favourite colour.

Y/n knew that there was no bodies in the coffins but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t sit there with her daughter in her lap and tell the two empty graves that she loved and missed them. Every time.

It was still a tradition that they both did even as Y/n got older and weaker.

In 1970 her husband was killed, Franks brother Robert was arrested and charged with his murder. Robert found out that his wife was having an affair with his brother. Y/n went to see him in prison after Robert sent her a letter begging her to see him, he swore that he didn’t do it. That it was a man with a silver arm. Y/n believed him when he said he didn’t do it, he was with his sister, her husband and their children, along with Robert’s children. But she didn’t believe him about a man with a silver arm, that was a bit far fetched.

At Franks funeral Y/n stood there with Hope on her left side and the nine children he had with nine different women. She tried to comfort the children he had with the women he had cheated on her with, they allowed it until everyone left and it was just them standing at the grave. His oldest started laughing causing the others to join in, Hope looked at her mom with a raised eyebrow that reminded her so much of Bucky, she just shrugged.

They told Y/n that they were happy he was finally gone. Told her that they hated him and was glad he was dead.

It surprised her but they were at the age where they realised that their parents marriages broke up when their mom cheated on their dad, or when they saw Frank hit their mom. It was nine teenagers/young adults who knew that what the preacher was saying as the coffin was lowered in the ground that it was all lies, he wasn’t a good man, he wasn’t a good husband or father, he was everything they hated. He was everything the five boys had promised that they would never turn in to. He was everything the four girls promised that they would never end up with.

They all kept in touch throughout the years, it was nice. And through them years all nine of his offspring kept their promises.

As the years went on Y/n became more and more proud of Hope and the woman she had become. Hope got married and had children, her first born son was named James, her second son was named Steve.

“M-mom there’s someone here to see you” Hope stuttered from the doorway.

“W-who i-is it darling?”

“I-he-hold on”

Hope appeared at the door with a nervous smile on her face, her fingers twisting together as a man walked slowly towards her. His eyes going to the woman and then to the man behind him, he was scared.

“Hope?”

“Mom-“

Y/n slowly turned to face the doorway, her eyes widening as she sees the ghost of her best friend towering over her daughter.

“S-Stevie? You’ve come to take me to Jamie?”

Steve frowned looking at the woman who was the last person on his mind before the plane crashed in to the water, his best friend who had aged yet her eyes remained the same. Then he looked at Hope confusion written on his face, she looked up at him and smiled sadly.

“Mom I’m just going to get you a drink.” Nodding her head to Steve and Sam to follow her she went into the kitchen. “She thinks your taking her to heaven to see my dad”

“Dad?”

“James? He’s my father”

Steve’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. When Hope answered the door telling him that she was Y/n’s daughter he assumed that she had married and had children, he did not expect the woman in front of him to be the daughter of his best friend who he watched fall to his death.

“What?”

“Bucky Barnes is my father…you’re my uncle, well that’s what my mom always called you.”

“Oh. Now I see it, it’s your eyes”

“Mom always said I had the same eyes as him” she laughed.

Steve goes to open his mouth when there’s a sound of a cane hitting the floor, all three turn to face the doorway where Y/n stood.

“Are you re-really alive and not just m-my imagination?”

“I’m really here Y/n/n”

“H-how?”

“When I crashed the plane-ow stop hitting me” he cries out when she hits him with her walking cane, Sam and Hope laugh.

“Still mad at you for crashing that plane”

“I’m sorry. I was frozen and they found me a few years ago” Steve finished his explanation. Y/n nodded and sat down, being ninety five years old her legs weren’t as strong as they once were.

“This is my daughter, she’s beautiful isn’t she?”

“She is, she’s got Bucky’s eyes”

“Yes she has. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Sam, he’s the one that helped me track you down”

“I-it’s nice to meet you Sam.” When Y/n reached out to shake Sam’s hand Steve noticed a glint of a necklace. He watched as her free hand went to the necklace and started lightly tugging on it, he wasn’t the only one.

“Mom? Mom your alright, your safe don’t worry” Hope says softly, moving closer slowly. Sam looked at Steve worriedly.

“I-I don’t-don’t let him hurt me anymore”

“Mom he’s dead, he can’t hurt you anymore I promise” Hope helped pull the necklace out, handing her the thing she knew her mom was trying to hold.

Steve’s breath get caught in his throat at seeing the metal nut Bucky gave her all those years ago.

“S-Steve? Your dead. Hope wh-who is he? I-it’s not Stevie, he’s dead”

“It’s okay mom, he’s a friend. Let’s get you back to bed okay?” Turning to Steve and Sam telling them she’d be back in a few, they both nod.

Waiting patiently in the kitchen Steve can hear Hope calm Y/n down, his heart breaking when Y/n asks for Jamie. When Hope comes downstairs she offers the two a drink, both declines politely.

“Mom keeps forgetting things, she’s been like this for a while now.”

“The thing on her necklace, what is it?” Though he knew he just couldn’t see it lasting this long or that she even kept it.

“My dad proposed to her with it, it’s a nut. She’s kept it on her chain ever since-well, she’s wore it since he gave it her”

“Did she ever marry? Have other kids?”

“Yes, he died in 1970 and no I’m her only child”

“I’m sor-“

“Don’t apologise, bastard deserved it”

After an hour or so the men take their leave, the blonde asking if he was able to come back and see Y/n again, Hope said yes.

The year was now 2016, Y/n’s health declining as she was nearing one hundred. The doctors told Hope that it would be better to keep her in hospital for the rest of her time on earth, Hope told them that, that wasn’t going to happen. Y/n had told Hope that when she was going to die that she wanted to go when she was at home. No matter what.

Steve had showed up one day to talk to Hope, to tell her that her father was alive after all this time. Hope begged him not to tell Y/n. Y/n struggled to understand and come to terms with the fact that Steve was alive, she had grown so confused that she started to tug on her necklace. Hope didn’t want to imagine how her mom would react to the news that the love of her life was alive, not when she spent so long mourning him.

At first Steve was confused but understood at the same time. He told Hope that he and Bucky fought and the only way he could get him to snap out of whatever Hydra had done to him was by saying Y/ns name, Hope smiled at that. Hope asked Steve if he had told James all about her and how her mom was still alive, Steve said no but with her permission he would. And he did.

After seventy years of going without a father it was strange when she met Bucky for the first time, a man who didn’t look a day over thirty was her father when she looked like his mother, it was strange.

Bucky cried. Cried for never knowing Y/n was pregnant in the first place. Cried for never being there throughout Hope growing in her mother’s stomach. Cried for never being there for either one of them for nearly seventy years. Hugging his daughter for the first time ever Bucky crumbled.

Hope was very honest about hers and Y/n’s life, told Bucky how Y/n’s husband was a cheating abusive arsehole. Both Bucky and Steve clenched their fists at hearing that. Shocked when Hope told them that apparently a man with a silver arm had killed Frank, and because Bucky had his arm covered and gloves on Hope didn’t realise that it was her father that did it.

Bucky was open and honest about what had happened to him, expecting his daughter to look at him differently so when she threw her arms around him and cried he was shocked.

It took Bucky exactly twenty three minutes and fourteen seconds for him to ask when he could see Y/n. Having to think it over she agreed but on the condition that she was the one that would tell Y/n the truth.

Telling her mom that the man she had still been in love with after all those years since she had lost him, that he was still alive was the hardest conversation she had to have with her mom. Y/n didn’t believe her, of course she didn’t she’s spent seventy years mourning him. Seventy years wishing she saw him again, hoping and praying that he would still love her the way she still loved him.

Hope told Y/n that she had met him, hugged him, laughed with him but she still didn’t believe her.

A week after telling Y/n that Bucky was still alive her health deteriorated. Hope had to tell Bucky and Steve that Y/n didn’t have long left. Bucky was determined to see his love for the last time.

James stood in front of the house that Y/n had made a home since she left Brooklyn, the two floored farm house stood proudly in front of acres of land, due to his enhanced senses he could smell the lingering smell of animal food and waste. Hope had told him all about the animals Y/n rescued over the years, told him that when she was seven they had three horses, cows and goats, that in recent years Y/n had been rescuing cats and dogs from the streets or abusive homes rehoming them to those she trusted. Bucky smiled at hearing that she had lived the life he wanted for the both of them, smiled at hearing that Y/n’s kindness and love for animals never stopped.

Checking his hair was fine for the umpteenth time in the two hours it took them to get there he turned to face Steve.

“You ready Buck?”

“Y-yeah” Steve knocks on the door and they both wait patiently for Hope to answer.

“Hi, come on in-oh”

“T-they wanted to come, hope that’s okay” Bucky explained. Behind him and Steve stood the rest of the Avengers.

“We’ve heard all about your mom ever since blondie came out of ice, wanted to meet her” Tony spoke leaning in between the two super soldiers to hold his hand out.

“Oh right, come in.” Leading them all upstairs where Y/n was, Bucky’s nerves sky rocketed the closer he got to the bedroom. “You ready?” Hope asked.

“Yeah. She knows I’m here right?”

“She does, if it helps she’s nervous too”

Nodding his head he watched with a steady breath as his daughter - which he still found weird saying - twisted the door knob and opened the door.

Though older and frail Bucky thought she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes stayed on her face as he moved closer, with every step he took his heart started to beat slower.

“J-Jamie?”

Wetting his lips and gulping he nodded “hi Flower”

“Took you long enough to come and get me”

“I know my love b-but I’m here now”

“Are we going to see Stevie?”

“Stevie’s right here darling”

“Is my mama going to be there too?”

Frowning he looked back to Hope as she stands at the doorway with everyone behind her. Hope shook her head and mouthed “she thinks you’re taking her to heaven”. His frown deepened, looking back at Y/n whose eyes didn’t move away from him.

“I’ve missed you Flower”

“I’ve missed you too Jamie. Ha-have you met Hope? She’s your daughter Jamie”

“I have met her, beautiful isn’t she?”

“She is. The best thing I’ve ever done”

“I’m so proud of you, you’ve raised our daughter amazingly”

“Sit down silly” sitting on bed next to her he took his gloves off and held both her hands when she reached for him. Y/n didn’t flinch when his silver hand touched her. “Don’t let Frank hurt Hope okay? Y-you have to promise me Jamie th-that you’ll lo-look after her”

“Doll he’s-I promise that no one will ever hurt her”

“Good. He’s mean. He hurts me Jamie”

“I know doll I know, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from him”

“Not your fa-wh-who are they Jamie?”

“They’re Stevies friends Flower”

Hope nudged Steve further into the room and nods to the others letting them know it’s okay for them to go in too. Steve says hello and introduces the team to her, each giving her a smile.

For three hours Steve and Y/n talked about growing up together and all the things they use to get up to, everyone laughed and asked Y/n questions about the two super soldiers, she answered them as best as she could sometimes she repeated herself or looked panicked when she saw strangers standing in her room.

Bucky though held her hand with the both of his, his eyes on her the whole time. Tracing over each line with his eyes, his heart clenching when he saw the unmistakable sight of a scar that ran down the side of her face.

His breath got caught in his throat when she took out the metal nut around the necklace. “Y-you kept it?” He asked interrupting when Sam was talking about.

“My Jamie gave it me during the war, he proposed to me” she smiled “you look like him”

“Do I?”

“Yes, but my Jamie was more handsome”

“Was he now?”

“Oh yes-“ a yawn cuts her off. Hope tells everyone that it was best if they left now so she could get some rest, and they do. Each say their goodbyes and waits for Steve and Bucky downstairs.

“We’ll come and see you tomorrow okay?” Steve says after he pulls away from giving her a hug and a kiss to her forehead. Y/n nods and smiles. “I’ll wait for downstairs Buck”

Bucky nods, then looks at Hope who understands without being verbally told that Bucky wanted a few minutes alone, she follows behind Steve.

“I have always loved you, you know? I still love you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home to you when I promised you over and over that I would, I’m sorry I let you down Flower”

“Y-you didn’t let me down Jamie, never.”

Bucky smiles softly at her, watching as her eyes start to droop. “I’ll let you get some rest my love. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise”

“O-okay Jamie. S-see you tom-tomorrow” Giving her a kiss to her forehead he stands and moves to the door, taking one last look at his first and only love.

“Thank you for the best years of my life”

He says before shutting the door and heads slowly down the stairs.

After Hope says her goodbyes and gives her dad a hug she busies herself cleaning the kitchen, she smiles happily to herself seeing her parents together something she had always wanted to experience.

She doesn’t know that her mom is in her bed with her hand wrapped around the piece of metal that she had wore and cherished from the moment James gave it her, she doesn’t know her mom is thinking about meeting her Jamie again.

She doesn’t know that her mom takes her last breath with a small smile on her lips.

A year after loosing the love of his life Bucky had to bury his only daughter, heart attack took her. In 2023 Tony had perfected his father’s Time Machine with the help from Bruce. Steve was going to be returning the stones, they all gathered together in the empty space and watched as Steve vanished.

“4…3…2…1” Bruce counted down for Steve’s arrival.

Once the smoke cleared Bucky had his eyes down as he knew that Steve wasn’t going to be coming back, he knew he was going to go back to live a life with Peggy. His head snapped up when he heard the voice that he always heard in his sleep.

There stood on the platform was Steve, Y/n and a two year old Hope.

“Fl-Flower”

“You died Jamie. You promised me you would be safe but-“

Bucky cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers, holding both of his flowers tightly.

One month after Steve brought Y/n and Hope to the future, Bucky and Y/n got married. A month after that she finds out that baby Barnes number two would be arriving.

“I love you Flower”

“I love you Jamie”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

#mcu marvel avengers #bucky barnes #winter soldier #white wolf #one shot

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