#Winter Soldier series

[koiponderingart]

The best of Winter Soldier: Of the many Winter Soldier/Bucky Barns paints I have done, these are my favorite.

Please feel free to find me on Ig: koipondering

[buckyssoldat]

Chapter 66: Unspoken

Warnings: major character death, grief and loss, emotional distress, mature themes, angst, violence, mentions of blood, themes of self-sacrifice and acceptance, heartbreaking conversations, romantic tension and vulnerability, strong language, sexual themes

A/N: This is part of my series, Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier. If you wanna be tagged in this, just send me an ask or a message. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Alice’s eyes snapped open, her head throbbing with the force of a brutal headache. She felt the weight of her body pressing against the ground, the familiar hum of battle still crackling in the air. For a moment, everything felt surreal, too disorienting to grasp, but then she heard it: Peter Parker’s voice, calling out to her.

“Miss Onyx!” he shouted, his tone panicked but familiar. “Get up! We need to move! The gauntlet!”

Groaning, Alice pushed herself up, her eyes scanning the chaotic battlefield around them. Her sword was lying just a few feet away, its blade gleaming faintly. She reached for it, gripping the hilt with steady hands. As she did, the ground shook beneath her, and she looked up just in time to see Thanos preparing for another brutal attack. He was fighting Wanda, her power nearly overwhelming him, but he wasn’t backing down.

Once she noticed what Thanos was about to do, she instinctively pulled Peter into cover, her body blocking his as she shielded the gauntlet with hew own. The barrage of energy blasts rained down on them, the air sizzling with heat and force. But just as suddenly as it started, the blitz stopped. Alice’s chest heaved, her senses on high alert as she cautiously looked up.

Then, she saw it – Captain Marvel, hurtling through the sky, ripping Thanos’s ship like it was made of paper. She couldn’t help herself. She let out a whoop, a triumphant shout that was both a relief and a declaration of victory.

“Fuck yeah, Carol!” Alice yelled, her grin fierce. “I bet the giant grape is shitting his pants right now.”

Captain Marvel’s descent was like watching a comet crash to Earth, and when Carol landed in front of Alice and Peter, a new sense of hope blossomed in Alice’s chest. She stood up, pushing Peter gently to the side, though he remained clutching the gauntlet.

“Hi. I’m Peter Parker,” he said, giving Carol a small, awkward wave.

Carol’s grin was infectious as she met his gaze. “Hey, Peter Parker. You got something for me?”

Alice straightened up beside Carol, smiling at her friend before giving a quick nod. “Hey, Carol. Glad you could make it.”

Peter shakily passed her the gauntlet, his hands still trembling. “I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that,” he said, looking toward the warzone.

But before Carol could answer, the ground rumbled again as Wanda appeared, flying beside Valkyrie, her Pegasus taking her through the air with terrifying grace. Wanda’s voice rang out, steady despite the chaos.

“Don’t worry,” Wanda said, confidence in her tone.

“She’s got help,” Okoye, who had joined them, spoke.

Pepper, Mantis, Shuri, the Wasp, Gamora, and Nebula followed, their arrival like a wave of reinforcements crashing down on Thanos’s forces. They stood ready for battle, determined to see this fight to the bitter end.

Carol began to push forward, flying through the Outriders, Sakaarans, and Chitauri with an ease that made it look effortless. Wanda and Valkyrie destroyed Leviathans in their wake, their power unmatched. Alice, too, was in motion, slashing through enemies, her sword singing as it cut through the air.

Ebony Maw was the next target. Alice’s sword met his chest with a brutal thrust, pinning him to the ground. As he gasped in agony, Alice leaned down, her eyes narrowing with pure fury.

“That’s for throwing me across the fucking field,” she muttered, twisting the blade for emphasis before pulling it free.

Just a few meters away, Alice noticed Corvus Glaive fighting with a Wakandan warrior. She didn’t wait for Corvus to get the upper hand on the struggling warrior. Her boots pounded against the dirt and shattered fragments of metal, and she barely paused to shout, “Leave this one to me!”. The Wakandan man gave her a grateful nod and stepped back, eyes wide as she stepped into the fray.

Corvus turned his blade-like gaze on her, a twisted grin pulling at his lips. “I ripped your head off once,” Alice snarled, dropping her sword on the ground, “I can and will do it again.”

He sneered, “No, you didn’t.”

Alice’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Let me refresh your memory then.”

Corvus lunged at her, his weapon slicing the air, but Alice dropped into a low roll, evading the deadly swing. Dust and dirt kicked up around her as she popped back to her feet and leaped onto Corvus’s back with a burst of speed. Her legs clamped around his shoulders, locking in tight, and her fingers curled under his chin, finding a grip.

Corvus roared, thrashing wildly, but Alice held firm, drawing on every ounce of strength she had. With a fierce, determined scream, she pulled, and the muscles in her arms straining as she wrenched his head backward. The sinews of his neck resisted, and he tried to throw her off, staggering backward, but she tightened her legs and twisted.

There was a sickening crack, and Corvus’s head ripped from his body with a grotesque, wet sound. His body crumpled to the ground beneath her, lifeless and defeated. Breathing hard, Alice landed on her feet, holding the severed head aloft before tossing it aside.

“Memory refreshed,” she spat, catching her breath as she surveyed the ongoing chaos, already searching for the next target. She wiped her hands off on her pants, the blood still dripping from her fingers, but it wasn’t until she heard a sharp intake of breath that she turned.

Okoye stood a few feet away, her wide eyes locked on the lifeless body of Corvus Glaive, his head lying discarded in the dirt. The look on Okoye’s face was a mixture of pure horror and absolute disbelief.

“Did you just-?” Okoye’s voice was strained, like she couldn’t quite process what she had just witnessed.

Alice, still catching her breath, gave a casual shrug, as if decapitation one of Thanos’s top warriors was no big deal. “Yeah. I did.”

Okoye blinked rapidly, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come. She finally settled on a deadpan, “I don’t know whether to be impressed or deeply disturbed.”

Alice shot her a grin. “Both is probably the right answer.”

Okoye could only stare, her face a picture of utter confusion and amazement. “You are a very, very strange woman.”

Meanwhile, Carol was streaking toward the van with the gauntlet, but the fight wasn’t over yet. Thanos was charging after her, but before he could reach her, he was stopped in his tracks by a blast from Pepper, Shuri, and the Wasp, knocking him back. Carol soared past him, but Thanos, now fully enraged, threw his double sword at the van. The weapon shattered the Quantum Realm tunnel, the blast sending Carol spiralling backward. The gauntlet slipped from her grasp, landing with a heavy thud on the ground.

Alice’s heart pounded as she sprinted across the battlefield, her boots pounding against the cracked ground. She’d seen Tony’s move, the way he’d tackled Thanos with everything he had, and now she was running toward the chaos, adrenaline pushing her faster. She didn’t know if it was the desperation or the sheer fury of watching Thanos almost win, but nothing was going to stop her from reaching him.

She reached the clearing just in time to see Tony being thrown in the air like a ragdoll, his body slamming against the dirt with a sickening thud. Her eyes locked onto Thanos, the gauntlet now on his arm, and she felt a surge of dread fill her chest.

The end was coming, and it was coming fast.

“No,” she hissed under her breath, her eyes narrowing. She didn’t have time to think, to hesitate. The world had gone quiet for a split second, the thrum of her heart drowning out everything else. She was already moving, charging forward, sword in hand. Her grip tightened, her breath steady.

Thanos’s fingers curled, and Alice’s stomach twisted as he prepared to snap his fingers. And then she heard it, Thanos’s voice cutting through the chaos.

“I am inevitable,” Thanos said, his voice dark and sure.

Alice reached him just as he snapped his fingers, and for a moment, nothing happened. Just a metallic “clink”. Thanos stared down at his hand in confusion, and his face twisted in horror as he realized the Infinity Stones were gone.

Tony Stark, now standing tall with the stones on his own hand, the power of them coursing through him, looked at Thanos one last time.

"And I… am… Iron Man.”

With that, Tony snapped his fingers.

Thanos’s army crumbled to ash, and Thanos, too, began to disintegrate. Horror filled his eyes as he looked around, watching his entire plan fall apart. He sat down, defeated at last, his form slowly fading from existence, his power, his dreams, evaporating into the void.

Alice’s feet seemed to falter with every step she took toward Tony. Her eyes were wide, her heart pounding, but nothing could prepare her for the sight in front of her. Tony, still laying amidst the wreckage, his right side a mangled mess of raw energy and shattered armour, was struggling to breathe. The very sight of him made her chest tighten in a way that felt like her ribs were cracking. Every piece of her screamed for him to move, to get up, to make some joke, something – anything – but there was nothing.

She couldn’t stop the tears from welling up, the hopelessness sinking in like a heavy weight that crushed her lungs. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground beside him, unable to look away from the slow, laboured rise and fall of his chest.

The power of the Gauntlet had destroyed him. There was no question now.

“Tony…” her voice broke, barely more than a whisper as she reached out, trembling hands hovering over him but unable to touch. She couldn’t bear to see him like this.

Bucky’s hand found hers before she could pull away, his grip firm warm. He didn’t say a word, but his presence was a quiet anchor, offering her the steadying force she needed. She looked up at him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“He’s not…” Her voice faltered, and she could barely finish the thought. She didn’t wanna to say it. She couldn’t make herself admit it.

Bucky squeezed her hand tighter, his eyes full of silent understanding, and said nothing. He just stayed there, holding her, offering his support without needing to say anything more.

Peter Parker appeared then, soaring down from the sky with his webbing. He landed awkwardly beside Tony, his eyes scanning the fallen hero with disbelief. “Mr Stark?” he said, his voice trembling as he kneeled beside him, looking desperately for some sign of life. “Hey, Mr Stark? Can you hear me? It’s Peter. Hey. We won, Mr Stark – we won. You did it, sir. You did it.”

Alice couldn’t bear to watch as Peter’s voice cracked, his hands shaking as he tried to rouse Tony, his tears falling freely. She closed her eyes, her breath hitching as the overwhelming weight of it all settled in her chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter whispered, collapsing into Tony’s unresponsive form, his arms wrapping around him. “Tony…” His voice was barely a whisper, filled with so much pain Alice could barely breathe. He couldn’t lose Tony too – not like this.

Pepper arrived, kneeling beside Tony, her face etched with grief. Her hands shook as she touched his face, trying to hold onto him, as if touching him one more time might bring him back. “Hey,” she whispered softly, but Tony could barely lift his head.

“Hey, Pep…” Tony’s voice was a raspy murmur, so weak, but it was still him. Still the man who’d saved them all.

Pepper placed her hand on Tony’s Arc Reactor as Tony rested his hand on hers. She stared at his injuries, afraid of what was coming.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” She called the AI.

“Life functions critical,” the AI responded as Tony smiled with tears in his eyes.

“Tony,” she gently lifted his face so he could see her one last time.

Alice felt her heart tear in two. Her breath hitched as she watched Pepper say the words Alice knew were coming.

“We’re gonna be okay. You can rest now.”

And with that, Tony’s Arc Reactor flickered and died. The light that had once been a symbol of hope, of Iron Man, of all that Tony Stark had been, was gone.

Alice let out a strangled sob, her chest tight with a pain she couldn’t name. Bucky wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, but it didn’t stop the ache that filled every inch of her being. Tony was gone.

And then, in the midst of the silence, every hero who had fought beside him gathered around, kneeling in honour of the man who had given everything.

And there, on the battlefield, they all mourned together. For Tony Stark. For the hero. For the friend.

The air in the aftermath of the battle was thick with exhaustion and grief. Wakandan medics, led by T’Challa and Doctor Strange, had quickly opened portals and brough in advanced technology to check on everyone, making sure no one had injuries that couldn’t be mended. They cleaned up everyone’s wounds, patching up what they could, and offering the best healing methods they had at their disposal.

Alice had barely registered when the medics came to check her. She’d been lost in a daze of emotions – relief, pain, disbelief. The battle was over. They had won. But it didn’t feel like a victory. Not when they’d lost so much. Not when Natasha and Tony were gone.

Bucky had been cleared too, but he hadn’t left her side, his quiet presence a comfort that she wasn’t sure she could handle losing.

As the medics finished and left them both standing in the quiet aftermath, Alice turned to him, her voice soft but steady. “Come back with me,” she said, the words heavy with meaning. “To my place. In Harlem. We’ll just… be there.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, his blue eyes scanning her face. But then he nodded, giving her a faint, sad smile. “Alright. Let’s go.”

As they made their way to leave, Alice caught sight of Steve, standing off to the side, his arms crossed as he watched them. There was something in his eyes – perhaps a quiet understanding, a silent approval – as he looked at his two best friends. It wasn’t the usual Steve Rogers, always stoic and reserved; no, this was something else.

Alice could tell there was a flicker of something in his gaze – contentment, maybe even a hint of relief. He knew what Bucky and Alice had been through, both separately and together. How much they had carried, how much they had fought to get here. And now, seeing them finally find each other again, even after everything that had happened, it seemed to bring Steve some peace.

He smiled, though it was small, and the lines of his face softened, as if he was finally seeing something that felt right again in the midst of all the chaos. There were no words exchanged between them, but in that brief moment, there didn’t need to be.

Alice gave Steve a nod, her voice soft as she said, “We’ll be okay.” It was more for herself than anyone else, but Steve heard it.

Bucky, too, offered a silent acknowledgement, the quiet understanding between them all remaining unspoken.

And then, with one final glance at Steve, Alice and Bucky stepped out into the cool night, ready to find what they could in the stillness of her apartment, knowing that, in their own way, they had found each other again.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, watching them leave, before turning his attention back to the scene before him. But his mind lingered on Alice and Bucky, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of peace about what had transpired.

The trip back to her apartment was a blur, the weight of everything still hanging in the air. Alice had barely said a word, her mind too full of everything they’d just been through. They both needed space to process it, but she wanted him with her, wanted the warmth of his presence to anchor her.

Once inside, Alice could barely focus on anything beyond the overwhelming fatigue. She headed straight for the bathroom, wanting to wash away the blood, dirt, and remnants of battle that clung to her skin. The shower’s warm water felt soothing against her sore body, and she stood under it for a long time, letting it wash over her in silence. When she finished, she wrapped herself in a towel, her mind still swirling with everything that had happened.

Bucky, meanwhile, took his own shower in the bathroom next door. His movements were slower than usual, but Alice didn’t press him. She knew the weight of the battle had taken its toll on him, just like it had on her. The silence between them was comfortable, but not in the way it usually was. This time, it felt heavy.

After a while, they both emerged from the bathroom, feeling a little more human. Before changing into something comfortable, Alice gave Bucky the biggest sweatpants and t-shirt she had. Once she was dressed, she settled on the couch with a sigh. The quiet of the apartment was different tonight – no longer a sanctuary of peace, but a reminder of all they had lost.

Bucky sat beside her, his presence a quiet reassurance. He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. Neither of them spoke for a while. There was nothing to say that could make the pain go away.

Finally, Alice broke the silence. “You should come to bed,” she said softly, her voice raw with emotion. “Please. I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Bucky hesitated, but only for a moment. The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He nodded, squeezing her hand before they both stood. He didn’t say a word, but as they made their way to her bedroom, he kept his arm around her, guiding her gently.

Once they were both in bed, the room dark and still, Alice curled up beside him, her head resting against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. For a moment, they just laid there, the quiet of the apartment settling over them like a blanket. Even though they had won, even though they were together, there was still that heavy, lingering sadness in the air.

When Bucky spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “We’ll get through this,” he said softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Alice’s heart ached, and she nodded. “Yeah, you and me. Together,” she whispered back.

And with that, they both fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, finding comfort in each other’s arms, trying to forget, even if just for a moment, the world that had been left behind. And, for the first time in a long time, Alice allowed herself to drift off to sleep, knowing she wasn’t alone anymore.

Bucky had stayed in Alice’s apartment for a few days now, and although the stillness between them was comforting in its own way, it was also heavy. They had both been through so much – the battles, the losses, the weight of the years that had passed. Everything was supposed to be different now, right? They had won. They had their lives back. But there was something in the way they were with each other that made Alice feel like they were still stuck in a limbo, uncertain of how to move forward.

It was the quiet moments that made her wonder if they were really moving forward at all.

At first, sharing a bed had felt natural. It wasn’t anything sexual – just two people trying to find comfort after everything they had been through. They didn’t need words to express what they felt. Just being near each other was enough. But over time, Alice found herself wanting more. Her thoughts turned to what they could be if they let themselves, what it might feel to hold him in the most intimate way possible.

She would wait for the nights when he was relaxed, when the tension seemed to face from his body. She would wear her most revealing pyjamas, nudge closer to him, just enough that she could feel his warmth, but not too much to make him uncomfortable. Her hand would inch toward his, the subtle movement meant to be an invitation, a gentle push toward the closeness they both needed. But every time she reached for him, he would either gently pull away or shift enough to create a space between them.

At first, Alice convinced herself it was nothing. He was exhausted. He was still processing everything that had happened. She understood that. But as the days stretched on, those small gestures – the ones that said more than words ever could – began to pile up. His eyes would never meet hers when she looked at him, and when she touched his arm or brushed against him, there was no reciprocation. It was like there was a wall, built from everything that had happened to him, to both of them, and no matter how much she wanted to tear it down, she didn’t know how.

One night, after they had shared a meal and talked about the small, trivial things that made the day feel normal again, Alice felt the same urge. They were sitting on the couch, her legs tucked under her, his arm resting on the back of the seat. She didn’t even need words. She just wanted to be close to him in a way that felt more real than the invisible barrier between them. The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow across the room as Alice leaned into Bucky, her lips meeting his in a slow, passionate kiss. As the kiss deepened, she moved to straddle him, her hands tangling in his hair, and she began to rock her hips slightly against him. Bucky’s breath caught, his hands instinctively finding her waist, holding her as desire surged between them.

For a heartbeat, it felt electric, an undeniable pull igniting between them. But then, Bucky stilled, his fingers tightening briefly on her hips before he gently but firmly lifted her and sat her beside him on the couch. The heat between them cooled in an instant, replaced by a tension Alice couldn’t quite interpret.

“I… I need a shower,” he mumbled hurriedly, not meeting her eyes as he stood up and made his way to the bathroom, leaving Alice flushed and longing, her heart sinking with confusion.

The air felt thick, suffocating. Alice’s chest tightened, her heart aching as she left for bed. The space between them was becoming more than just physical; it was emotional, and Alice could feel it growing wider with every passing second. She had tried so hard to be patient, to give him the space he needed. But with each quiet refusal, the doubt started creeping in. What if he didn’t want her? What if all this time, she had misread the signs? What if he couldn’t love her the way she loved him?

The next day, when Alice was feeling particularly raw, she decided to confront the silence that had settled between them. She had been avoiding it for as long as she could, but there was no more running from it. She had to know what was going on, what he was really feeling.

One evening, after a quiet dinner, Alice suggested they go to the rooftop to get some air and watch the fireworks that were being thrown that night. The sky had grown dark, and the city below them was alive with lights, but the distance between them felt more pronounced than ever.

They stood there, side by side, watching as the fireworks lit up the sky. It was a celebration of sorts – a tribute to the lives that had been restored, to the world that had somehow, against all odds, made it through. For a moment, Alice lost herself in the beauty of the lights, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him.

Alice tilted her head, her fingers fidgeting slightly as she gathered her courage. She turned to Bucky, her voice soft but carrying the weight of her vulnerability. “Are we… okay?” she asked, her heart thudding anxiously.

Bucky glanced at her, his blue eyes filled with a complicated mix of emotions – regret, affection, and worry. He opened his mouth, then closed it, as though the words he wanted to say were caught in his throat. “Yeah… yeah, we’re fine,” he finally said, though his voice wavered, and the uncertainty lingered.

Alice’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she couldn’t help the frustrated exhale that escaped her. “Bucky, please,” she urged, leaning in a little closer. “I’m not sure what’s going on anymore. You keep pulling away from me, and I don’t understand why.” Her voice softened, the fear in her eyes evident. “I just… I just wanna know if you want this. Want me.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and his hands turned into closed fists before he forced them to relax. He looked down, avoiding her gaze, and his fingers fumbled with the fabric of his shirt. “It’s just… I-I…” He took a deep breath, visibly struggling. “I just haven’t-”

Alice’s eyes widened, a teasing smile breaking through her worried expression. “Wait,” she interrupted, a note of disbelief and humour entering her voice. “Are you a virgin, Bucky?”

Bucky’s head snapped up so quickly that Alice almost expected him to get whiplash. His eyes went wide, and his face flushed bright red. “What? No!” he sputtered, his hands flying up in panic. “It’s not that!”

A laugh bubbled out of Alice, the tension easing ever so slightly, but Bucky groaned and covered his face with one hand. “Alice,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his palm, “you’re killing me here.”

Alice giggled, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Hey, I had to ask! You looked so flustered.”

Bucky sighed, letting his hand drop as he shook his head, though his lips twitched upward at her laughter. “It’s just… I haven’t dated someone in so long,” he admitted, the humour giving way to vulnerability. He took a shaky breath, his eyes finally meeting hers. “And being in love with you… it feels like it’s the first time I’ve done this. The whole relationship thing.”

Alice’s playful grin softened as she listened, her heart aching at his honesty. Bucky continued, his voice low and sincere. “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. It wasn’t what I intended, really. I just… I wanna do things right with you. You’re too important to me.”

Her eyes glistened with tears she refused to let fall. Her smile grew gentle, and she reached out to take his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I… Bucky, it’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pressured you. Take your time. It’s totally fine, I swear.”

Bucky exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “I just… I wanna do this the right way, okay?” he repeated, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

Alice’s heart felt like it might burst from the love she felt for this man. “I love you, Bucky,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling in that way she adored. “I love you too, Alice,” he said, and then leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, heartfelt kiss. The fireworks above seemed to echo their emotion, bursting with brilliance and joy as they held each other.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the warmth of being together and the magic of the night sky. The world felt a little less heavy, a little more bearable, as long as they had each other.

Then, after a few minutes, Alice’s curiosity got the better of her. She shifted slightly, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Hey, Buck?” she said, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice relaxed and content as he held her close.

Her grin widened. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What question?” he asked.

Alice’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Are you a virgin?” she asked, drawing out the last word dramatically.

Bucky groaned, his cheeks flushing again as he threw his head back. “What-no, Alice,” he protested, laughing despite himself. “I’m not a virgin.”

Alice burst into laughter, and Bucky couldn’t help but join in, the two of them giggling like teenagers, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten. The fireworks continued to explode above, showering them in light, but nothing compared to the joy they found in each other’s arms.

As the laughter died down, the rooftop returned to a quiet stillness, the sky now painted with the remnants of the fireworks’ dazzling display. Alice and Bucky sat together, a comforting silence settling over them, though a new tension began to coil in Alice’s stomach. She leaned her head on Bucky’s shoulder, savouring his warmth, but the weight of a secret pressed down on her heart.

Bucky’s arm was wrapped securely around her, but he noticed the way her body tensed tightly. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

Alice hesitated for a moment, then forced a smile. “Yeah,” she replied, but the tightness in her chest didn’t ease. Her fingers played with the hem of her shirt nervously. She knew she had to tell him the truth, no matter how afraid she was of his reaction.

I have to tell him about what happened between me and Steve, she thought, her mind swirling with anxiety. The memory of her past relationship with Steve was something that she couldn’t keep from Bucky. He deserved to know, especially now that they were moving forward together.

But as she looked into Bucky’s kind, trusting eyes, the words caught in her throat. Not tonight, she decided. Not here, not like this. She swallowed hard and resolved to tell him after Tony’s funeral. It would be the right time, and he deserved to hear it directly from her.

Bucky watched her carefully, sensing there was more she wasn’t saying. But for now, he let it go, gently squeezing her hand. They stayed there on the rooftop, holding each other as the stars emerged one by one, a silent promise lingering between them that they would face whatever came next together.

The morning sunlight filtered gently through the curtains in Alice’s apartment, casting a warm, golden glow that spilled across the floorboards. The peaceful ambiance was a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotion still gripping Bucky. Alice lay fast asleep in the bedroom, her dark hair spilling across the pillow, her breathing even and calm. Bucky had slipped out of bed with care, moving as quietly as possible so as not to disturb her. He left a note on the kitchen counter, promising he’d be back soon, though he hadn’t given a hint as to where he was going.

The streets were eerily quiet as Bucky made his way to Steve’s apartment. He took the familiar route, memories flooding his mind – memories of the war, of decades lost to Hydra, of everything that had happened to him and Steve. And yet, here they were, still standing, still breathing, and still fighting, even after everything. But Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling of something coming to an end.

When he arrived at Steve’s place, the door was already ajar. He pushed it open gently, stepping inside to find Steve standing by the window, his back to Bucky. Sunlight spilled over Steve’s shoulders, making him seem both golden and impossibly weary. Bucky’s heart tightened in his chest; he knew his best friend well enough to sense the gravity of the moment before a single word had been spoken.

Steve turned around slowly, his blue eyes meeting Bucky’s. There was a calmness there, but it was layered with something else – something Bucky hadn’t seen in along time: peace, maybe, but also a deep, aching yearning.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted softly, his voice steady, but his eyes shimmering with a bittersweet kind of resolve.

“Hey, punk,” Bucky replied, though his attempt at levity fell flat. There was no masking the heaviness in his voice. He stepped closer, searching Steve’s face. “What’s going on?”

Steve exhaled a slow breath, his gaze drifting out the window for a moment before he looked back at Bucky. “When I went back to the 70s to get the stone,” Steve began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I saw her. I saw Peggy. And right then… I knew what I had to do.” His eyes grew distant, like he was reliving that moment. “I knew that was my chance, Buck. My chance to finally have the life I’ve always dreamed about. The life I never thought I’d get back.”

Bucky swallowed, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. “Steve…” he whispered, though he couldn’t quite form the words that needed to follow.

Steve’s lips curved into a small, wistful smile. “And then, during the battle, when I saw you and Alice together,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly, “it just made me realize it even more. Seeing you two find each other again, seeing you be happy… it hit me, you know? I want that for myself, too. I need it. I deserve to be happy, to be loved. And Peggy… she’s always been my girl. My happy ending.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, the full weight of Steve’s words crashing down on him. He stepped forward, his boots feeling heavy on the floor. “What are you saying?” he finally managed, though his voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

Steve’s smile was sad, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “Once I return the Stones, I’m gonna stay in the past. With Peggy. I’m not coming back this time.”

The room fell into a suffocating silence, the words hanging between them like a heavy, unbreakable truth. Bucky felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, his hands trembling slightly. He clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions from spilling over.

Steve stepped closer, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Tell me I’m not making a mistake,” he pleaded, his voice breaking just a little. “Please, Buck.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak. His mind raced with memories – of Brooklyn, of alleyway scrapes and shared laughter, of the decades stolen from them both. But he saw something in Steve’s eyes that made his heart ache: a longing for peace, for a love he’d waited too long for. “No,” Bucky finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “No, you’re not making a mistake. You need this. You deserve to be happy, Steve. To be with Peggy, your girl, the love of your life.” He took a shuddering breath. “It’s just… I just got you back, and now I have to lose you again.” His voice broke, a tear spilling down his left cheek. “I’m gonna miss you like crazy.”

Steve’s own tears finally fell, and he pulled Bucky into a tight embrace. They clung to each other, two brothers who had endured so much, their bond unbreakable even in the face of this impending farewell. “I know,” Steve whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m gonna miss you too, Buck.”

Bucky closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Steve’s shoulder, memorizing the feeling of this hug, the warmth and strength of the only brother he’d ever known. “Damn it, Steve,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Why does it always have to be like this?”

Steve pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Bucky’s eyes. His hands still rested on Bucky’s shoulders, as if he were holding on for dear life. “I wish it didn’t,” he admitted, a tear slipping down his cheek. “But this… this feels right.”

They stayed that way for a moment, holding each other, the unspoken love and pain between them palpable. Finally, Bucky stepped back, wiping at his eyes. “Have you told anyone about this yet?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Steve shook his head. “Nope, just you. I’m planning on going to Alice’s apartment later this evening to tell her.”

Bucky managed a small, sad smile. “Hum, okay. I’ll make sure I’m not there so you guys can have some privacy.”

Steve looked at him, slightly puzzled. “No, it’s okay, Buck. You don’t have to go.”

But Bucky insisted, his smile widening just a fraction. “You two should talk alone. I know how close you are.”

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise, a realization dawning on him. “Oh, you know?” he asked, his voice soft. For a moment, he wondered if Alice had already told Bucky about their past relationship. “And you’re… fine with that?”

Bucky chuckled softly, though his heart still felt heavy. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, the sincerity in his voice clear.

Steve felt a small sense of relief, though a bit of surprise lingered. “Oh, okay,” he said. “How do you think she’ll react?”

Bucky took a moment, his mind drifting to Alice’s smile, her laughter, and the strength she carried in her heart. “Honestly,” he said, his voice warm and genuine, “I think she’ll be happy for you.”

Steve's expression softened, a mix of hope and gratitude crossing his features. “Thanks, Buck. That means a lot.”

Bucky hesitated, a nervous edge creeping into his demeanour. He rubbed the back of his neck, taking a deep breath before meeting Steve's eyes. “Speaking of Alice,” he began, his voice faltering for just a moment, “I’ve been thinking about something. Actually, a lot.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What is it?” he asked, his concern for his friend momentarily pushing aside the heaviness of their conversation.

Bucky swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his next words. “I’m thinking about asking her to marry me.”

Steve’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open slightly as the words sank in. For a moment, the room seemed frozen, the significance of Bucky’s confession wrapping around them like an invisible force. “You… you want to marry her?” Steve echoed, as if he needed to hear it again to truly believe it.

Bucky’s heart pounded as he shifted uncomfortably under Steve’s gaze. He nodded, a nervous smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, I’ve thought about it for a while now. She even noticed I’ve been acting strange. Ever since we got everyone back… she’s my home, Steve. The way she makes me feel… it’s like, even with everything we’ve been through, there’s hope. A future.” His voice trembled, raw with honesty.

Steve’s initial shock melted into a slow, warm smile, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Bucky,” he said, his voice filled with genuine affection, “that’s… that’s incredible.” He clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, his eyes shining with happiness. “I’m so proud of you. And so happy for you both.”

Bucky let out a shaky laugh, a relief flooding through him. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice hopeful. “You think it’s a good idea?”

Steve nodded, his grin widening. “Absolutely. Alice is one of the strongest, most loving people I know. And you… you deserve this, Buck. You deserve to be happy and to build a life together.” Steve’s expression softened, a wistful glimmer in his eyes. “If anyone understands what it means to have found love after everything we’ve lost, it’s me.”

Bucky’s eyes glistened, and he looked away for a moment, trying to steady his emotions. “You really think I can make her happy?” he asked quietly, vulnerability seeping through his tough exterior. “After everything… the things I’ve done, the things she’s seen… she still deserves better.”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “Hey,” he said, his voice steady and unwavering, “Alice chose you. She’s seen all of you, the good and the bad, and she still loves you. That’s real, Buck. And I know you’ll make her happy because you love her with everything you have.” Steve paused, his expression turning serious. “You’ve come so far. You’ve fought so hard to be the man you are now. You’re more than worthy of this, and don’t you ever forget it.”

Bucky’s throat tightened, and he found himself blinking back tears. “Thanks, Steve,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “That means everything, coming from you.”

Steve smiled, the kind of smile that reached his eyes. “So, when are you planning to ask her? Got a big, romantic plan?” he teased lightly, trying to add a bit of levity to the conversation.

Bucky chuckled, some of the tension easing from his frame. “I don’t know,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, it’s Alice we’re talking about. She’s not one for grand gestures. I want it to be… simple but meaningful. Something that shows her how much she means to me.”

Steve nodded, his eyes alight with understanding. ��Knowing her, she’ll probably appreciate something heartfelt more than anything flashy. Just be yourself. Speak from the heart.”

Bucky’s lips curved into a genuine smile, the kind he didn’t often show. “Yeah,” he agreed, feeling a bit more confident. “That sounds like something she’d like.”

Steve’s expression softened with warmth. “She’s gonna be so happy, Buck.” His voice grew quiet. “And knowing that you two have found each other again… it makes all of this a little easier for me.”

Bucky swallowed, his gaze locking onto Steve’s. “We’re gonna miss you, you know,” he said, his voice heavy with sincerity. “But I understand. I really do.”

Steve’s eyes misted over, and he pulled Bucky into another hug, their bond speaking louder than words. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered. “But knowing you’re happy, that you have a future with Alice… that makes this goodbye a little more bearable.”

They stayed like that for a moment, two brothers in arms, holding onto each other and the life they had fought so hard to reclaim. Finally, they pulled apart, both looking a little steadier, a little more resolute.

“Promise me you’ll take care of her,” Steve said softly, his voice full of unspoken love and trust.

Bucky’s gaze was fierce, his blue eyes blazing with a protective intensity. “Always,” he vowed. “With everything I have.”

As the evening settled over Harlem, the warm glow of streetlights spilled into Alice’s apartment, painting the walls in a golden hue. The day had felt long and surreal, filled with the quiet echoes of mourning, victory, and the crushing reality that they’d never be the same again. Alice stood at the kitchen counter, fiddling with a mug of tea she hadn’t touched, her thoughts a tangled mess of relief, grief, and worry.

Bucky had kissed her on the forehead before leaving. “I’ll grab us some pizza from that place you really like,” he’d said, the tenderness in his eyes almost enough to settle the unease in her chest. Almost. Alice had nodded, watching him walk out of the door, the click of the lock echoing in the silence that followed.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, trying to make sense of the ache she couldn’t seem to shake. The war was over, but not the pain. Not yet.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts, and her heart skipped. “Coming,” she called, placing the mug down and heading to the door. When she opened it, she found Steve standing there, dressed in casual clothes that somehow seemed too normal, too ordinary, for someone who’d carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Hey, Ali,” Steve said gently, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Steve,” she whispered, surprised. “Hey. Come in.” She stepped aside, and he walked in, his movement deliberate, as if he were carrying something fragile. As he passed her, Alice’s brows furrowed. Something about him seemed… different.

They stood in the middle of her living room, and odd, heavy silence hanging between them. Steve’s hands fidgeted, an unusual nervousness tightening his jaw. Alice’s worry spiked. “Is everything okay?” she asked, voice soft but tinged with concern.

Steve’s eyes found hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. He had always been her steady anchor, the man who carried too many burdens but never wavered. But now, he looked vulnerable, like a man who’d made peace with something he hadn’t dared to hope for in a long time. “Alice,” he began, his voice breaking slightly. “We need to talk.”

The air grew thick, and Alice’s heart thumped painfully in her chest. “Okay,” she said cautiously, gesturing for him to sit. They settled on the couch, side by side but worlds apart. Steve turned slightly to face her, and the intensity in his gaze nearly unravelled her.

“I’ve made a decision,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “And I need you to hear me out, okay?”

Alice swallowed, her throat dry. “Okay,” she whispered.

Steve took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging. “When I went back to the 70s, I saw her. I saw Peggy.” His voice cracked, the pain and longing so raw it made Alice’s chest ache. “And for a moment, if felt like all the years, all the fighting, all the loss… it just fell away. I saw the life I could have had. The life I’ve always wanted.”

Alice’s eyes welled up, and she reached out instinctively, her hand resting on his. “Steve…”

He gave her a small, pained smile, covering her hand with his. “Alice, I’ve always been the man out of time,” he continued, his voice wavering. “I’ve tried to make peace with it, but I can’t. I’ve given everything, and now… I need to take something back. I need to be with her.”

The words sank in, and a tear slipped down Alice’s cheek. She wanted to be happy for him, to be relieved that he’d finally get what he deserved. But the thought of losing him again shattered something deep inside her. She had already lost Natasha and Tony. She didn’t want to lose Steve too. “You’re… you’re staying in the past,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes glistening. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m staying with Peggy. I can’t keep being the man out of his time, Alice. I need this.”

Alice’s breath caught, and she tried to hold back the sob rising in her throat. “But we just… we just won,” she choked out. “We just got everyone back together, Steve. You’re my family. How… how am I supposed to say goodbye?”

Steve’s face crumpled, and he reached out, pulling her into a tight embrace. She clung to him, her tears soaking into his shirt, her heart shattering with the realization that this was goodbye. “I know,” he whispered, his own tears falling. “I know it’s not fair. But you’re strong, Alice. You’ve always been so strong.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands trembling as they cupped his face. “I’m strong because I had you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I don’t know how to be strong without you.”

Steve placed his hands over hers, his thumbs brushing her tears away. “You don’t have to be strong alone,” he said. “You have Bucky now. And he loves you more than anything. You two are gonna take care of each other. Promise me you’ll take care of each other.”

Alice sobbed, nodding even though it felt like her world was falling apart. “I promise,” she whispered. “But it’s not gonna be the same.”

“No,” Steve agreed, his voice thick. “It won’t. But you’ll be okay. Both of you.”

They stayed like that, holding each other. Steve eventually pulled back, his own face streaked with tears. “You know,” he said, his voice cracking but a smile tugging at his lips, “when I saw you and Bucky together, I knew you’d be okay. I knew you’d finally found the happiness you deserve.”

Alice let out a shaky laugh, her tears still flowing. “He means everything to me,” she whispered. “But so do you.”

Steve’s smile grew, even as his eyes remained sad. “And you mean everything to me,” he said. “I’m so proud of you, Alice. Of the person you’ve become.”

She took a shuddering breath, trying to etch every detail of this moment into her memory. “I’m proud of you too,” she said, her voice raw. “For everything.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared history pressing on them. Finally, Steve stood, his movements slow, like he was reluctant to leave. “I’ll see you again, you know,” he said, his smile soft. “In another time.”

Alice nodded, her heart breaking but her love for him burning brightly. “In another time,” she echoed, her voice trembling.

And with that, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes lingered on hers, filled with a love that would never fade, even across decades. Then he turned and walked out the door, leaving Alice to stand there, the echo of their goodbye ringing in her ears.

tags: ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​@capswife

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masterlist

[pascaloverx]

As It Was (S2)

Chapter Twelve

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Summary: You have a bold idea that obviously leads you and Bucky into an argument. Who doesn't like a wedding?

Author's note: Dear readers, I will be writing this fanfic again. This second season will have shorter chapters and it will probably take me a little longer to update the fanfic but I hope you like it!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS STORY, there may be adult content and verbal and physical violence.

"That's the craziest invention you've ever had, Melisa. Did your ex-husband agree to this whole strategy?" Sam asks after you tell him your plan to capture Steve and Killian.

"What makes you believe I told him before I told the four of you?" I speak confidently that they will see things as I do.

"To recap, do you want to be bait in a fake wedding; making two dangerous men come after you?" Yelena seems to have understood the premise of my genius plan.

"Yes, this marriage will make them want to burn the archives. Despite my father's evidence, the fact that they tried to kill me makes everything worse." The reality is that I can't run away forever. Not knowing when something might happen to you or someone you love.

"What if they don't show up? Are you going to marry Barnes again?" Sam says it like it's the most unlikely thing in the world, considering I was married to Barnes once.

"Whatever, it's better to take a risk and not work out, than to do nothing and live in fear." I say, determined to make this weak team help me capture the man who killed my father and the man who almost killed me.

"I agree with Melisa, living in fear doesn't do any good. Not to mention that her marrying Bucky isn't the end of times. We'll be there to protect the engaged couple after all." Wanda speaks, trying to seek support in her wife's eyes, but Yelena seems unsatisfied.

"This could go very wrong, you could die, we could die too because Barnes won't accept this and we will have to do it without his cooperation. So if everything goes wrong he will take it out on us." Sam's right, Barnes will probably be pissed at them and if I survive at most I'll get two weeks without sex as punishment.

"But if we don't do anything to help Melisa, these two cowards will haunt her life. My friend spent months in a hospital bed and wants her peace back. I think we should give her that." Dave he says with authority, trying to show himself as a supporter of this plan. I hug him gently.

"Give what, to whom?" James Barnes came out of his eternal bath wearing a robe. Look, I didn't tell him about the plan but I know he's going to hate it.

"His ex-wife had an unusual idea to solve a problem. We're trying to figure out if it's worth trying." Yelena responds to Barnes, who looks confused.

"Funny, my ex-wife hasn't said anything to me in the days we've been together. At least nothing about this plan." You know that weird feeling like you're going to get fucked? I'm feeling it now.

"That's because she didn't feel you were ready to accept that plan." I say quietly as if I wished I didn't have to say anything.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much does Melisa put herself in danger in her plan?" He asks, clearly speaking to the rest of the group.

"Nine." Exactly everyone says it together, as if they were synchronized. Barnes looked at me as if to say, now you know why I don't like his plan.

"Baby, there's no way I'm going to agree to this plan. You at least suggested being bait to catch the two mother fuckers that almost killed you and I." It's funny how he says this minutes before grabbing me by the waist and kissing me on the cheek. 

"I'm not going to give up on the plan, Barnes. I love you and I respect you. I would like you to respect my plan and follow it. But if you don't, I'll go through with it without you." I said looking into the eyes my ex. I know he wants the best for me but I can't live in this way forever. 

"Do you want to end up like your father?" He responds sharply and I move away from him. I think we went back to the beginning of our relationship again. He wants to have the last word and I want to do what's best for me.

"Better to end up like him, than to live a life of fear and cowardice. If you don't understand me, that's your problem. But if you love me that much, you should support me and protect me. It was exactly for this reaction that I didn't tell you the plan." I say this hoping he will say something, say he will accept the plan or that I can't count on him. But I get silence. In fact, he left the house that was once ours and left without saying a word. 

"I changed my mind, I'll support you in this. If you need a new fiancé, I'm available. Now I'm going to go and see where your husband went." Sam says kissing my cheek and going after Barnes.

"I still think this plan is crazy but if you're willing to fight Barnes over this, it must be important to you. Count on me, for any plan you have." Yelena says giving me a look of support. I am grateful for her decision to help me.

"These idiots and I are going to help you. Either way we're going to get Steve and Killian. One way or another." Wanda says hugging me and then saying goodbye. Just me and Daven left.

"Wine and ice cream?" Dave says, throwing himself on the couch and turning on my TV. You nod your head, hoping that some movie will take your argument with Barnes out of your mind. To think he was so angry that he came out in a bathrobe. It's even funny. 

[barnesnatts]

New look at Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes in Marvel's THUNDERBOLTS.😍🫶🏻

[guardianjameslight]

I love the difference between Alexei's viewing of Bucky in MCU:

In What If S3, he's like, "He's not even a real Russian."

In Thunderbolts, he's like, "It's the Winter Soldier. That guy, so cool. "

[shybluebirdninja]

Fury

Summary: When Bucky's jealous of Steve, there's only one way to calm the storm— and it involves taking you hard and fast.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Note                 : rough sex, blowjob, jealousy

The tension was suffocating the second you walked back into the room. Bucky was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tight you could almost hear the grinding. He didn’t even need to say anything. His eyes—stormy, dark, and fixed on you—were enough to tell you what kind of mood he was in.

You didn’t do anything wrong, at least not intentionally. Steve had been the one who came over, his usual friendly self, maybe standing a little too close, maybe cracking one too many jokes. But it wasn’t like you were encouraging him. Hell, you barely even noticed until you saw the way Bucky’s eyes tracked every single move Steve made around you, like a predator sizing up his prey. The moment Steve walked out of the room, Bucky’s whole demeanor shifted—dangerous, possessive.

And now, here you were, the air thick with the kind of jealousy that could either end in a fight or something way more explosive.

He finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “You looked real comfortable with Steve, huh?”

You froze. Bucky wasn’t one for idle jealousy—when he got possessive, it was something primal, something that burned hot and fast, a storm you either weathered or drowned in. And right now, you were treading water.

“It wasn’t like that,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. But you knew that wouldn’t fly. Not with him.

“Wasn’t it?” He pushed off the wall, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. “Looked like he couldn’t keep his fuckin’ eyes off you. And you? You just let it happen.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you shut it right down. His hand was on you in an instant, his metal fingers curling around the back of your neck, pulling you close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.

“You think you can let Steve get that close to you and I wouldn’t do something about it?” His breath was hot against your skin, his voice thick with that dangerous edge. “You’re mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in his tone, feeling that familiar pull low in your belly, the one that always came when Bucky got like this—jealous, furious, and desperate to remind you just who you belonged to.

“Bucky—” you tried, but his grip tightened just enough to stop you.

“Shut up.” His words were sharp, demanding, and your knees felt weak. He spun you around so fast you barely had time to catch your breath before you were pressed against the nearest wall, his body pinning you there, hard and unrelenting. “I’m gonna fuckin’ show you what happens when you let another man get close.”

His hand slid down your back, over the curve of your ass, gripping it roughly before he yanked your jeans down in one swift move. You gasped, your palms flat against the cold wall as he kicked your legs apart with his foot. His hand came down on your bare skin, a sharp slap that sent a shockwave of pleasure and pain shooting through you.

“Fuckin’ Steve...” he muttered darkly, another slap making you bite back a moan. “Think he can look at you like that?” His breath was hot on your neck. “Hear that, baby? You’re gonna scream for me, so loud, I want him to hear you.”

Before you could process the thought, he was pushing your face down against the wall, his fingers finding your heat, rough and fast, teasing you until you were a mess of whimpers and gasps. “Already so wet, huh?” he growled, pressing himself against you from behind, letting you feel just how hard he was.

You pushed back against him, needing more, needing him to just take what he wanted already, but he wasn’t giving in that easy. He always liked to make you wait, drag it out, make you beg for it. And you were close—so close to begging. But he didn’t give you the chance.

“Fuck this,” he growled, and then he was inside you, hard and fast, filling you completely in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, but there was nothing but the cold, unyielding wall in front of you.

“Bucky!” His name tore from your throat, a mix of pleasure and pain as he fucked you, each thrust harder than the last. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you back against him with every rough movement, your body jerking forward from the force of it.

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Let Steve hear you. Let him know who fucks you like this.” His voice was dark, gravelly, and full of possessive fury.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls. Bucky didn’t let up, didn’t slow down—he was relentless, driving into you with a raw, animalistic need. And fuck, you loved it. Loved the way he lost control when he got jealous, the way his hands gripped you so hard you were sure they’d leave bruises. Loved the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were close, so close, and Bucky knew it. He could always tell.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” His hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles. “Gonna scream for me?”

You were already screaming, your body trembling, barely holding on as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. And when you finally fell, it was like a fucking explosion, your whole body shattering as you came hard around him, your cries echoing in the small space.

But Bucky wasn’t done.

He pulled out suddenly, flipping you over onto your back, and before you could catch your breath, he was pushing you down to your knees.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. You did as you were told, your lips parting just in time as he pushed himself past them, rough and demanding. You gagged slightly as he hit the back of your throat, but he didn’t care. He was too far gone, too consumed by jealousy and lust.

He fucked your mouth with the same intensity he’d fucked you before, his hand gripping the back of your head, guiding your movements as you sucked him. You could feel him twitching, hear his breath coming out in harsh pants as he neared his release.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his hips jerking forward as he came, spilling himself down your throat. He held you there for a moment, making sure you swallowed every drop before finally letting go.

You collapsed against him, your legs weak, your body trembling, and Bucky pulled you up, his arms wrapping around you possessively.

“You’re mine,” he growled into your ear, his breath still ragged. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Marvel + text posts

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

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: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

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 ❤️

The lights, the noise, the crowd, it's all a bit much. You move out of the way of another Red, or, Black Widow cosplayer only to nearly bump into a rather short but broad Thor. At least, you think you have those right. You don't know. Bonita is more into this stuff. You're more here for moral support, or more realistically, to carry her bags.

Didn't she tell you she was trying to cut down her spending? You've already tallied up more than you'd spend on groceries on a single poster and a bobblehead hero. Which one was that? The one with the metal arm…

You jostle against Bonita to keep from brushing against a stranger. You're not much for human contact as it is, but you'd rather it be here than that guy in the Spiderboy outfit doing twirls. You can respect the passion but it's all over the top. Someone's going to get hurt.

"Alright, signature time!" Bonita claps her hands and leads you over to a long queue behind a velvet cord. A man in black asks for her VIP pass. She shows it and you see the not so subtle total on the receipt; $500! That's robbery. These Stark Industries-issued heroes don't need all that.

You keep your grumbles to yourself and cross your arms to follow her. The man stops you too. You reel back and give him a glower.

"Relax, I'm carrying milady's things," you raise the bag and bobblehead. "I'm not interested in having a class photo."

"Please, sir, she's not really into any of this," Bonita adds with a cute smile. He considers her and drops his shoulders. He waves you through.

You shuffle along with the line of bodies. You lean to the side as you try to see the front. It zigzags back and forth. You're going to be here forever.

"Why couldn't Mo come with again?" You drone.

"Because he's a butthead," she whines. "Couldn't even pay me back for getting the tickets on pre-sale so he can miss out!"

"I didn't pay either," you mutter.

"Yes, but you're more fun. My brother's spoiled. He deserves it."

You nod and move with her as the queue shifts again. It's easy for her to come out and spend all this money. She still lives at home. You're not judging her but she also doesn't seem ashamed of it either. As happy as you'd been when you got out on your own, you sometimes wonder what it'd be like to have people to fall back on.

"It's going to be so cool. I got a photo with both of them! EEEEE!" Her squeal has you touching your earlobes.

"Both of them," you nod dully.

"Captain America and the Winter Soldier," she exclaims and claps her hands. "Do you think they'll like my outfit?"

You look her up and down. She wears a star-spangled corset and a red and white striped skirt. She's like an excitable flag. You shrug. "It's cute, but you must be cold in here," you peer up at the high-ceilings and the fans swirling the air around.

"Nope! Too excited," she assures you.

"Cool."

You might not be into any of this but you try to be a supportive friend. Bonita's a bit flighty but she's not a bad person. Really, you admire how into things she gets. You have your things but she's about as interested in those as you are in super soldiers.

She chatters on about the photo. Do you think they'll sign it too? Oh, she needs to put it right above her desk. Obviously, it's going to be her phone background. You nod and peer around vaguely.

She thrives in place likes these. Bright, loud, and chaotic. You'll take something warm to drink and a book. She'll join you if you throw in some face masks and the like.

It's more than hour before you're in sight of the front table. Your feet hurt from standing mostly in one spot. You stretch your neck one-way than the other as you near the head of the line. You stand right by the stanchion where the cord opens.

Someone emerges from behind the curtain and you have to quickly step out the bouncing soldier's way. Is it considered stolen valour or an homage? As you move, your elbow hits someone else and you spin to face the unexpected figure.

"Oh," the man catches your elbow as you look up at him. Dark beard, dark hair past his chin, wide shoulders, and straight posture. His blue eyes seem familiar. "Sorry, miss. I'm just trying to get back to my station."

You sidle closer to Bonita as she gasps. The man brushes his fingertips down your sleeve as he passes and heads for the table. He stops to speak with the person handing out merch then proceeds behind the curtain where the flashes have been steadily flickering behind.

"Gosh, can you believe that?"

"Believe what?" You stare after him.

"That was him. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier," she exclaims. You blink at her and she scoffs.

"God, you're so lame. I can't believe you had no idea."

"I dunno," you pop your shoulders up and down. "Not my thing but that's cool."

"Oop!" She hops on her toes as the person at the table calls for the next in line, "that's me."

"Have fun," you say as you move aside with her haul.

She skips up to the table and shows her phone again. She takes the SWAG they offer her as they explain the next step and point behind the curtain. As she disappears behind it, you hear her squeal. You wonder if super soldiers have super hearing. That must've hurt.

You sway as you wait. Your name cuts through the air as you space out staring at a banner and you look over as Bonita waves from behind the curtain. You hesitantly cross the floor, expecting to be stopped.

"They want you to join!" She says.

"What?" You stop a foot away from her head as it appears to float between the curtains.

"Sure. They said why not? Since you waited in line."

"Oh, no that's… fine. I'll stay out here."

"Come on," she huffs and grabs your wrist, dragging you through. "Here she is!"

You step through and scan the space. There's the photographer patiently waiting behind the camera. Across from the lens, two large men stand with smiles that you can tell are all for show. This is a paid appearance for them.

"Hey, how about it?" The blond asks and beckons you over.

"I guess if you want me too, Bonnie," you say to your friend without acknowledge the man you know to be Captain America.

She brings you over with her and stands you between her and the brown-haired sidekick. Bucky steps closer and you wince as his hand goes to your lower back. You suppose it's normal given that you're getting photos but you want nothing more than to growl at him.

"Alright, everyone set?" The photographer looks at the camera and adjusts the lens. "Smile."

The flash goes as you refuse to follow orders. You're not much on smiling. You stand there like a mannequin as your vision speckles from the light.

"Oh, Steve, um, will you pick me up for the next one?" Bonita asks. You cringe and step away from Bucky's hand. He looms close as you squirm.

"Sure," Steve accepts breezily. He lifts her with no effort at all as you give a skeptical look.

"How about you?" Bucky touches your arm again and you draw away reflexively.

"No thanks," you curl your shoulders inward as you try to shrink down. "I'm good."

"Alright," the photographer says, "everyone together."

"Um, I think I'm going to step out, actually--"

Too late. Bucky puts his arm over your shoulders and crowds you as Bonita poses in Steve's arms. Your eyes round in horror and the camera blinds you again. She's really going to owe you for this one.

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine (masterlist) ♡

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader (Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au)

♡ Series Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?

♡ Series Warnings: mentions of amputation, dark themes, violence, death/death threats, talk of parent death, fluff, angst, stalking, daddy issues, anxiety attacks/panic attacks, abuse, depression, depressive episodes, PTSD, dry humping, hints to smut, (warnings to be added as new chapters are released)

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine ☀️

(SERIES ONGOING)

Last Updated: 9/8/23

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SERIES 18+

⇨ Chapter One

↳ After Pierce interviews Bucky for the job, he warns him of you. Bucky is starting to rethink his decision, but when he meets you... you're not what he expected.

⇨ Chapter Two

↳ Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other a little better, but Bucky is hesitant.

⇨ Chapter Three

↳ Bucky has a surprise meeting with Pierce, getting informed about your secret admire. Meanwhile, Bucky tries to keep things professional, he’s hesitant to cross the line when you need him.

⇨ Chapter Four

↳ You don’t know what to think of Bucky after he took you to bed last night. Bucky can’t continue to keep the stalking situation hidden from you. Something is found on your doorstep.

⇨ Chapter Five

↳ Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?

⇨ Chapter Six

↳ Bucky receives a morning visit from Steve, with the news about what was in the box. Bucky continues to think about what he should do. Should he tell you the truth about your stalker?

⇨ Chapter Seven

↳ Bucky finds you making a mess in the kitchen, attempting to bake and offers his help. The two of you get to talking and some reveals about each other begin to come out. Will he finally tell you about your stalker?

⇨ Chapter Eight

↳ After a surprise visit from Pierce, tension arises as he threatens Bucky of his job. Pierce wants to have a talk with you and it doesn't go very well.

⇨ Chapter Nine

↳ After the events from the other day, you try and cope with the reality of what happened. The world is a lot less colorful than you remember. Bucky helps comfort you after you realize you have no one left.

⇨ Chapter Ten

↳ Someone comes knocking at your door in the morning. Bucky answers and is surprised with who he finds. Are they going to help them or hurt them?

⇨ Chapter Eleven

↳ The tension can't be ignored anymore between you and Bucky. Steve shows up and he's not alone.

⇨ Chapter Twelve

↳ Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.

⇨ Chapter Thirteen

↳ Your dreams consist of random memories of your parents, but are they really random? Despite the past days of hell—you still find it difficult to resist Bucky. You two spend a heated morning together, devouring each other while you still have these moments.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the night trilogy

a/n: oops, i decided to make a oneshot i wrote a few months back into a miniseries because my brain wouldn't stop braining.... enjoy!

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, ex!peter parker x reader, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), forbidden romance, explicit sexual content, total word count is 10.7k

polls for the story: 1 | 2

masterlist | join my taglist 

PART ONE: JUST FOR TONIGHT

PART TWO: NIGHT OUT

PART THREE: STAY FOR A FORTNIGHT

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[skarsgards-bill]

Bucky Barnes

THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING | The Falcon and The Winter Soldier

[buckyssoldat]

Chapter 67: Forever

Warnings: major character death, grief and loss, emotional vulnerability, light sexual themes, mental strain

A/N: This is part of my series, Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier. If you wanna be tagged in this, just send me an ask or a message. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

The atmosphere around Tony Stark’s lakeside cabin was thick with a sombre quietness, broken only by the soft rustling of the trees and distant murmur of the lake’s gentle waves. The sky, a pale canvas of grey, seemed to reflect the collective sorrow of those gathered.

Pepper stood at the edge of the porch, her eyes brimming with unspoken grief, symbolized so much – love, loss, and the legacy of a man who had changed the world. As the group of loved ones watched silently, Pepper took one last look at it before gently lowering it into the water. Resting atop the wreath, framed against the greenery, was the arc reactor – Tony’s first. The words etched beneath it, Proof That Tony Stark Has a Heart, seemed to carry a weight of their own now.

As the wreath slowly drifted on the water’s surface, Alice stood at Bucky’s side, her hand tightly clutching his arm. She had been numb for day, the grief still too fresh, too raw. But here, at the funeral, surrounded by those who had loved Tony in their own ways, she felt the weight of her loss settle deeper into her chest. Tony had been more than a friend, more than a mentor. He had been family, and now, he was gone.

Her fingers tightened around Bucky’s arm, seeking the comfort of his presence. His warmth was a grounding force for her – something she clung to, needing it more than she ever had before. She didn’t look at him, afraid that if she did, the flood of tears she had been holding back would break loose. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the wreath, watching it float out farther into the lake.

Pepper stood still, her eyes fixed on the retreating wreath, her face a mask of quiet grief. Beside her, Morgan’s small hand rested on her mother’s, her tiny fingers gripping with the innocence of someone who couldn’t fully understand the depth of the loss. Happy Hogan stood close by, his face twisted in pain, his hand resting on his knee as if steadying himself from the weight of the world. Rhodey stood next to him, his posture rigid, but his eyes – eyes that had seen so much – were soft with sorrow.

The rest of the gathering stood in silent reverence. Steve, Peter, and May were a little apart, Steve’s broad shoulders slumped in quiet mourning. Peter’s face was pale, his eyes reddened, as if he had been holding back tears for days. May stood beside him, her arms wrapped around him, trying to shield him from the weight of it all. Thor’s presence loomed largen than life, his eyes cast downward, remembering the friendship he had shared with Tony. Beside him stood Bruce and Doctor Strange, both trying to make sense of a world that felt a little less bright without Tony in it.

Wong was nearby, his face unreadable, but his posture stiff as if he were holding himself together by sheer will. Scott and Hope stood together, their fingers intertwined, their eyes distant, as if they were trying to find some sort of peace in a world that no longer made sense. Janet, Hank, and Peter Quill stood with them, all of them quietly reflecting on the man who had meant so much to each of them in different ways.

The rest of the gathered team was just as solemn: T’Challa, Okoye, and Shuri stood together, their stoic faces betraying no emotion, but their eyes sharp with the grief they couldn’t hide. Clint, surrounded by his family, was quiet, his hands gently brushing over his children’s shoulders. Wanda, standing near Bucky and Alice, her eyes filled with sorrow and understanding, had her head slightly tilted in remembrance.

The rest of the Avengers, their allies, and friends – Sam, Harley, Ross, Maria, Carol, and Nick – all stood in silence, a unified front of strength, love, and loss. Their silence spoke volumes, each person lost in their own memories of Tony, the moments that had shaped them into who they were now.

Bucky’s grip tightened on Alice’s hand as she trembled slightly beside him. He felt the weight of her grief like an anchor around them both. His presence was all she had to hold onto right now, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

And as they all watched the wreath drift further into the lake, time seemed to slow, the finality of Tony’s death settling over them like a blanket they couldn’t shake. No words were spoken, none needed. The quiet sorrow of the group was enough to say everything that needed to be said.

The wreath – Tony’s legacy – slowly faded from view, as the ripples in the water carried it farther away from shore. It was the end of an era. The end of a life that had touched every one of them, in ways they would never forget.

But as the wreath disappeared into the distance, Alice stood there, with Bucky at her side, knowing that the love and lessons Tony had shared would remain with them forever. The heart of the world’s greatest genius was still out there, beating in the people he had left behind. And as long as they kept fighting, kept living – Tony would never truly be gone.

The following morning, some of team’s members gathered again by the lake. It was quiet, sunlit by the lake, where the makeshift Quantum platform had been assembled. The grief of Tony’s funeral still hung heavily over everyone, and the sombre mood persisted, a silent reminder of everything and everyone they had lost.

Alice stood close to Bucky, her arms folded tightly across her chest. The faint breeze carried the scent of the lake, rustling through the leaves in a soft, almost mournful whisper. She hadn’t gotten much sleep after the funeral, and her exhaustion clung to her, making everything feel just a little heavier. The words Bruce and Steve exchanged seemed to float in the air, echoing in her mind.

Bruce, standing beside the controls, tried to maintain his composure, but a flicker of sorrow broke through as he turned to Steve. “Now, remember – you have to return the stones to the exact moment you got them,” Bruce said, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “Or you’re gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.”

Steve nodded, his face calm but resolute. “Don’t worry, Bruce. Clip all the branches,” he assured, his voice carrying the steadiness of a man prepared for whatever lay ahead.

Bruce swallowed, his jaw tightening before his next words slipped out. “You know, I tried,” he confessed, his gaze dropping to the ground. “When I had the gauntlet, the stones… I really tried to bring her back.” His eyes lifted to meet Steve’s, shimmering with unshed tears. “I miss her, man.”

Steve’s expression softened. “Me too,” he said, his voice quiet but full of shared pain. The memory of Natasha, gone but never forgotten, settled heavily in the space between them.

Alice stood a few steps behind Bruce and Steve, her heart clenched in anguish. Natasha had been more than just a fellow Avenger to her. She had been her best friend, a sister in every way that mattered. Alice’s hands balled into fists at her sides as she struggled to keep herself composed, but a single tear slipped down her cheek, betraying the wall she had tried to put up.

“I miss her, too,” Alice murmured, her voice cracking slightly. The grief, raw and relentless, pulsed in her chest, and for a moment, she had to steady herself. Natasha had been the one she had leaned on during the darkest times, and now, without her, Alice felt the aching void even more deeply.

Sam stepped forward, his concern etched across his features. “You know, if you want, I can come with you,” he offered, his voice gentle.

Steve smiled, grateful but resolute. “You’re a good man, Sam,” he said, his voice warm with affection. “This one’s on me, though.” He glanced over at Bucky, who stood just a little apart, watching the exchange with a pained intensity.

Cap walked over to his oldest friend. For a moment, it was just the two of them, standing on the precipice of yet another goodbye. Steve’s smile was small, tinged with sadness and understanding. “Don’t do anything stupid ‘till I get back,” he joked, the familiar line carrying the weight of all their shared years.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “How can I?” he replied, his voice cracking. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” They embraced, a hug that spoke of years of friendship, loss, and a love that transcended even time. Bucky’s voice trembled, his hands clutching Steve’s back. “Gonna miss you, buddy.”

Steve pulled back, his eyes glistening. “It’s gonna be okay, Buck,” he promised, his voice soft, full of hope he wasn’t sure he believed. Then he turned to Alice, who had been silently watching, her heart breaking with each word.

Steve pulled her into a tight embrace, the familiarity of their bond wrapping around them. His voice was gentle when he whispered, “In another time.”

Alice’s breath hitched as she clung to him, the tears she’d been fighting stinging her eyes. She managed to whisper back, “In another time.” The words were a promise and a farewell, a dream of a life that could have been different.

Steve stepped away and moved toward the Quantum platform, donning his suit with a determined air. He hefted Mjölnir, a sight that still took everyone’s breath away, and gave them one last nod.

Sam shifted nervously, glancing at Bruce. “How long is this gonna take?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

Bruce adjusted the controls, his hands shaking. “For him? He replied. “As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds.” His voice wavered, but he pressed on, calling out to Steve, “Ready, Cap? Alright. We’ll meet you back here, okay?”

Steve, with a final, confident smile, replied, “You bet.”

Bruce’s voice was steady, even if his heart wasn’t. “Going quantum. Three, two, one-” But Steve didn’t reappear. The pad remained empty, a stark reminder that time was slipping away.

Bruce’s face fell, his confusion evident. “Where is he?” Sam demanded, his voice rising with panic.

Bruce frantically worked at the controls. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his eyes wide. “He blew right by his time stamp. He should be here.”

Bucky’s eyes shifted, staring at the empty spot on the platform. Sam stepped forward, his fear evident. “Well, get him back,” he insisted, voice thick with urgency.

“I’m trying,” Bruce replied, his hands fumbling with the equipment.

Sam’s desperation broke through. “Get him the hell back!” he shouted, his voice echoing.

Bruce turned sharply, his own frustration spilling over. “Hey, I said, I’m trying!”

A heavy silence fell, broken only by Bucky’s voice, calm but weighted with the grief of yet another loss. “Sam,” he said softly, drawing his friend’s gaze. Bucky’s expression was grave, but there was a trace of acceptance, a deep understanding that maybe Steve’s journey had ended where it needed to.

Alice stood still, her heart pounding, a silent prayer forming on her lips. Her fingers brushed Bucky’s, seeking any kind of solace as they waited, breath held, for what would come next.

Sam’s footsteps slowed as he approached Bucky and Alice. The two of them stood side by side, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. The morning sun painted streaks of gold across the clearing, casting long shadows over the grass. Bruce followed closely behind, his heart sinking with the realization that something had changed, something irreversible.

There, sitting on a worn log by the edge of the lake, was an old man. His face was lined with age, hair silvered and eyes gentle but tired. Yet, despite the years that had clearly passed, there was no mistaking who he was.

Bucky glanced at Sam, his voice low but resolute. “Go ahead,” he encouraged, his words soft but filled with understanding. Alice managed a small, hopeful smile at Sam, nodding to urge him forward.

Sam took a deep breath and stepped toward the old man, who looked up with a familiar warmth in his eyes. The gravity of the moment pressed heavily on Sam’s heart as he spoke. “Cap?” he asked, his voice trembling with a blend of awe and concern.

Steve Rogers, older now but unmistakably himself, smiled at Sam. “Hi, Sam,” he greeted, the simple words filled with a lifetime’s worth of wisdom and peace.

Sam hesitated, trying to make sense of the scene before him. “So did something go wrong, or did something go right?” he asked, the question tinged with worry and hope.

Steve’s smile deepened, lines crinkling around his eyes. “Well, after I put the stones back, I thought, maybe I’ll try some of that life Tony was telling me to get,” he explained, his voice rich with the echoes of long-past adventures.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat, and his chest ached with emotions he wasn’t sure he could express. “How’d that work out for you?” he asked, his voice quiet but earnest.

Steve’s eyes softened even further, a look of contentment settling on his features. “It was beautiful,” he replied, his voice a whisper, as though he was holding the memories close.

Sam swallowed hard, forcing a smile through the tears welling in his eyes. “I’m happy for you. Truly,” he said, and he meant it. Despite the loss he felt, he couldn’t deny Steve the happiness he had found.

Steve nodded, his gratitude apparent. “Thank you,” he said, the words simple yet sincere.

Sam’s smile wavered as he spoke, his voice sightly cracking. “Only thing bumming me out is the fact I have to live in a world without Captain America,” he admitted, the grief of losing yet another guiding figure pulling at his heart.

Steve’s eyes twinkled with a familiar mischief. “Oh, that reminds me,” he said, reaching to his side and bringing out the shield. It gleamed in the sunlight, a symbol of hope and responsibility. “Try it on,” he urged, holding it out to Sam.

Sam hesitated, glancing at Bucky. Bucky met his eyes and gave a small, encouraging nod, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. But before Sam took the shield, his gaze flickered to Alice, who stood beside Bucky. She was watching the scene unfold, her eyes full of understanding and quiet strength. Sam could see how much Natasha and Tony’s absence pained her, but in this moment, she and Bucky were both pillars of resilience, connected to the legacy of Steve and what the shield represented.

Sam felt the weight of the decision. In his mind, he knew that both Alice and Bucky would have been fitting choices to carry on Steve’s legacy. Alice had the unwavering courage and fierce loyalty that Captain America stood for. Bucky, having fought his way back from the darkness, had a depth of resilience and history with Steve that made him equally deserving. Moreover, they both had the super soldier serum running through their veins.

But the nod from Bucky and the supportive look from Alice were the permission Sam needed. It felt right, in a way that was both humbling and empowering. Taking a breath, he stepped forward and accepted the shield from Steve, feeling the weight of it both comforting and intimidating.

“How does it feel?” Steve asked, watching as Sam ran his fingers over the familiar surface.

Sam’s voice was thick with emotion. “Like it’s someone else’s,” he said, the burden of living up to Steve’s legacy hanging heavy in the air.

Steve’s response was gentle but firm. “It isn’t,” he said, his words an affirmation that Sam was the right choice, that he had earned this.

“Thank you,” Sam said, his voice breaking as he tried to convey his gratitude. “I’ll do my best.”

Steve’s smile was full of pride. “That’s why it’s yours,” he said, reaching out to shake Sam’s hand. Their grip lingered, a connection that spoke of shared respect and trust. Sam’s eyes flickered downward, catching the glint of a wedding ring on Steve’s hand.

A soft, curious smile spread across Sam’s face. “You wanna tell me about her?” he asked, the question light but laced with genuine curiosity.

Steve’s expression softened into a private, knowing smile. “No,” he replied, his voice gentle, “no, I don’t think I will.” The words carried a quiet finality, but also a sense of peace. It was a story Steve wanted to keep for himself, a piece of his life that was his and his alone.

Bucky and Alice stood a little apart, watching the scene unfold with mixed emotions. Alice’s hand found Bucky’s, squeezing it as they both absorbed the moment. There was loss, yes, but also the sense that everything was as it should be.

Later that evening, Alice and Bucky found themselves back at her apartment. The space felt warm and familiar, but a heaviness hung in the air, the events of the day still pressing on their hearts. Alice set her keys down on the small table near the door, her fingers lingering as if grounding herself to the present moment. Bucky closed the door behind them, the soft click sounding louder than usual in the quiet apartment.

They stood there for a moment, absorbing the silence. Then Alice finally broke it, her voice a mix of emotions. “Steve really did it,” she said, her eyes distant, still replaying the moment Steve had handed Sam the shield. “He really chose to live that life Tony always talked about.”

Bucky nodded, his expression conflicted. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice gruff. “I guess he finally got that dance with Peggy.” He rubbed a hand over his face, the weight of the day visible in the tension of his shoulders. “I just… I never thought I’d have to say goodbye to him again. Not like that.”

Alice’s heart clenched. She stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “None of us did,” she murmured, her own grief mingling with his. Steve had been a constant in her life, a steady presence through chaos and war. Seeing him as an old man, knowing he had chosen a different path, left an ache that was difficult to articulate.

Bucky looked own, absorbing her words. “It’s just…” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “Steve was the best of us. The world is gonna feel emptier without him.”

Alice’s hand slipped down to take his, their fingers intertwining. “But we’re still here,” she reminded him, her voice steady. “We’re here to keep fighting for the world he believed in. And maybe, with time, we’ll learn to carry the weight of his legacy in our own way.”

Bucky met her eyes, a glimmer of gratitude shining through the sadness. “I guess we will,” he said softly. He squeezed her hand, grounding himself in her presence, and for the first time that day, he felt a small spark of hope.

The days that followed were filled with an odd kind of quiet, the kind that spoke of bittersweet endings but also of hesitant new beginnings. Alice and Bucky stayed at her apartment, the space becoming a haven where they could both breathe, heal, and simply be.

Their first date was Alice’s idea, a classic afternoon picnic in Central Park. She prepared for it with a kind of giddy excitement, bustling around the kitchen, her hair pulled back with stray curls framing her face. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, watching her assemble the sandwiches and snacks she insisted were “the ultimate picnic essentials”. The sight of her so animated, so alive, made something warm bloom in his chest.

“You’re really putting a lot of pressure on these sandwiches,” he teased, his deep voice echoing softly in the small kitchen.

Alice spun around, a slice of cheese in her hand, pretending to be offended. “Excuse me, these aren’t just sandwiches, James Buchanan Barnes. They’re carefully curated, expertly assembled creations. A lot of love went into these.”

He chuckled, the sound low and genuine, and stepped forward to steal a piece of cheese. “Okay, okay, I’ll trust the sandwich expert. But if I’m not blown away, I’m holding you accountable.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was wide. “Deal.”

The park was drenched in sunlight when they arrived, the kind of golden light that made everything feel hopeful, almost magical. Alice chose a spot under a massive oak tree, spreading out a checkered blanket she’d brought along. Bucky helped her set up, though he kept stealing glances at her, marvelling at how her joy seemed to radiate from her. She wore a light blue sundress, and the breeze teased at its hem, making her laugh as she tried to keep it from flying up.

“Stop staring,” she said, catching him in the act and narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion.

“I’m not staring,” Bucky lied, holding his hands up defensively. “I’m… observing.”

“Uh-huh. Observing, my ass,” she shot back, but her cheeks flushed with a pleased warmth. She finished setting out the food and sat back with a sigh. “Okay, picnic feast is ready.”

Bucky joined her, and they shared the meal together, trading jokes and stories between bites. At one point, he picked up a strawberry and held it out to her, a playful glint in his eyes. “You trust me not to drop this all over your pretty dress?”

Alice leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He smirked, and in a rare, mischievous moment, pulled the strawberry away at the last second. She gasped in mock outrage, reaching for it, and the two of them burst into laughter as she finally managed to snatch the berry from his fingers. The carefree sound of their laughter blended with the hum of the city around them, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them.

After lunch, she convinced him to play frisbee, and despite his initial reluctance, Bucky found himself running and laughing alongside her. The frisbee sailed through the air, and Alice’s delighted squeals every time he managed to catch it made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time – pure, unfiltered joy. They played until they were both breathless, collapsing on the blanket in a tangled heap.

“You know,” Bucky said, looking up at the sky, “I haven’t had this much fun in… well, I can’t remember the last time.”

Alice turned her head to look at him, her expression soft. “I’m glad we did this,” she murmured. “You deserve fun, Bucky. You deserve happiness.”

He looked back at her, his heart aching in the best way. “So do you,” he said quietly, and she reached over to intertwine her fingers with his.

Their second date was more formal. Bucky, wanting to do something special, made reservations at a little Italian restaurant he’d heard about from Sam. It was a tiny, family-run place with fairy lights strung along the ceiling, casting a warm glow over everything. When Alice emerged from her room in a sleek, black dress, Bucky felt his breath catch.

“Wow,” he said, unable to hide his awe. “You look… incredible.”

She smiled, a little shy but mostly pleased. “You don’t look so bad yourself, sergeant.”

The meal was delicious, and they talked about everything and nothing, savouring the food and each other’s company. At one point, Bucky’s hand found hers across the table, and he held it gently, tracing small circles on her skin with his thumb. “Do you ever think about the future?” he asked, his voice soft.

Alice tilted her head, studying him. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I try not to think too far ahead. Life’s thrown too many curveballs.”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmured, his thoughts drifting to the small, velvet box he had hidden in his jacket pocket. “I get that.”

But the weight of the box felt heavier than ever. He wondered if he’d find the right moment to ask her, if he’d ever feel like the timing was perfect.

The most intimate date was their sunset stroll along the Hudson River. The sky was a riot of colours, painted in hues of orange, pink, and deep purple. The river reflected the scene, shimmering like a liquid rainbow. Alice held onto Bucky’s arm, her head resting on his shoulder.

“I used to come here a lot when I was at the orphanage,” she said quietly. “Back then, when everything was… different. It’s strange, being here now and feeling like things might actually be okay.”

Bucky turned his head to press a kiss to her temple. “I like the idea of ‘okay’”, he replied. “I never thought I’d get a chance at it, but here we are.”

She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes searching his. “Bucky… whatever happens, I’m glad we’re here. Together.”

He swallowed, feeling that familiar ache. He wanted to tell her everything, to drop to one knee right then and there, but nerves tangled his words. Instead, he cupped her face in his hands, leaning down to kiss her gently. “Me too,” he whispered against her lips. “You’ve changed everything for me.”

They stood there, the world around them fading away. Bucky knew he had the ring, knew he was ready to take the leap, but something about the quiet moments they shared made him hold back. He wanted to savour these days, to let their love unfold naturally.

And so, they kept building memories – each picnic, each candlelit dinner, each sunset stroll – becoming the foundation of something beautiful. Something they both hoped would last forever.

The following day had started perfectly. Alice had woken up to the sound of birds chirping outside her apartment window and the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen. Bucky, ever the early riser, was leaning against the counter when she walked in, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, offering her a mug.

“Morning, grumpy,” she shot back with a grin, taking the coffee and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

They’d planned a low-key day – breakfast at their favourite café, a stroll through the park, and maybe a movie later. By the time they had reached the café, a tiny crack had already formed in Bucky’s good mood.

It started when they got to the counter, and Alice, eyeing the glass case filled with pastries, ordered the last croissant without thinking twice.

“You want anything else, Buck?” she asked cheerily, completely unaware of the slight twitch in his jaw.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Alice had happily bitten into the flaky pastry as they walked to the park, humming to herself while talking about some random theory she’d read online about how pigeons might be government spies.

Bucky nodded along, but inside, he was spiralling. She didn’t even ask if I wanted it. The last croissant. Doesn’t she know I love those?

He stayed quiet, thinking Alice would notice his mood shift. But as they reached the park and settled onto the bench, she still hadn’t said a word about it.

Now, the silence stretched between them like a taut wire.

Bucky’s inner monologue was relentless: We haven’t talked in 20 minutes. She hasn’t even noticed I’m mad. What could she possibly be thinking about?

Meanwhile, Alice was blissfully unaware, staring out at the ducks gliding across the lake. Her thoughts had wandered far, far away.

Could I fight a bear? I mean, I have the serum in me… But not a polar bear. No, those are basically monsters. But like a black bear? Yeah, I could definitely take a black bear. And a shark maybe. If I punched it in the gills, that’s the trick, right? Do sharks even have gills?

Bucky finally snapped. “Seriously, Alice?”

She blinked and turned to him, startled. “What?”

“What?” Bucky repeated, his tone incredulous. “Are you really going to sit there like nothing happened?”

Alice frowned, looking genuinely confused. “Uh, yeah? Did I miss something?”

Bucky groaned, rubbing his temples. “This morning! At the café! You ate the last croissant.”

Alice blinked once, then twice, before breaking into laughter. “Wait, that’s why you’ve been brooding all day? A croissant?”

“Not just a croissant, Alice,” Bucky said, his voice rising slightly. “The last croissant. You didn’t even think to ask if I wanted it.”

“Oh my god,” Alice said, covering her face as she tried to stifle her giggles. “You’ve been stewing about this for hours? Buck, I didn’t even realize! I’ll buy you a dozen croissants tomorrow, okay?”

“That’s not the point,” Bucky muttered, crossing his arms. “It’s about communication.”

Alice leaned back, still chuckling, and tilted her head to look at him. “Communication? About pastries?”

Bucky sighed, his frustration softening as he met her teasing gaze. “It’s not just about the croissant, okay? It’s – it’s everything. I just… I thought we’d share it, that’s all.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a warm smile. “Bucky Barnes, are you telling me you’re upset because you wanted to share a croissant with me?”

He shrugged, looking away. “Maybe.”

She reached over, resting a hand on his. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? But I kinda love it.”

His lips quirked into a reluctant smile. “Just don’t eat the last one next time.”

“Deal,” she said, squeezing his hand. Then, after a beat, she added with a mischievous grin, “But just so you know, I could fight a bear.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“A black bear,” she clarified. “Not a polar bear. Those are demons.”

He stared at her for a long moment before shaking his head, laughing despite himself. “You’re insane.”

“You love it,” Alice said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his arm wrapping around her. “I do.”

tags: ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​@capswife

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masterlist

[pascaloverx]

As It Was (S2)

Chapter Ten

previous season next chapter

Summary: Lots of news in this new season, which will be full of several twists and discussions. And of course, lots of James Buchanan Barnes.

Author's note: Dear readers, I will be writing this fanfic again. This second season will have shorter chapters and it will probably take me a little longer to update the fanfic but I hope you like it!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS STORY, there may be adult content and verbal and physical violence.

Waking up in a hospital bed is much more uncomfortable than it seems. In fact, at first I thought I was dead. But it was when I tried to move and felt a pang in my stomach that I realized I was alive. I don't know how happy or sad this makes me. Someone I believed was good cheated on me, someone I loved died and I have no idea where the hell my ex husband is.

"Thank God you finally woke up, I'm going to call the doctor but try to stay conscious for the next few minutes at least." Dave speaks happily as if he's been yearning for me to wake up.

A few moments later I was so confused that I didn't even notice a team of doctors and nurses entering my room, it was almost as if I were a rare specimen. They are analyzing my every mole, asking standard questions like do I see this or that, do I remember my name, and checking my moles as soon as they enter what appears to be my hospital room.

"Doctor, what happened to me?" I ask, fearing that they are analyzing me because something terrible is about to happen.

"You may be a little confused in the next few days, the shot you took hit your spleen, which resulted in complications in his surgery. You got on induced coma for a while so that we could guarantee a recovery. The exact time you were in a coma was six months. The good news is that your body has fully recovered, without any apparent signs of trauma. For any additional information, you can ask the doctor on duty or the nurse who will be responsible for the care of this ward." The doctor speak so seriously, I feel a little confused with so much information.

"Will I be released soon or will I have to stay here for a long time?" It's the only question I long for the answer.

"We have to keep you here for at least another day for further observations but probably tomorrow, you will be released and you can go home." He speaks subtly with precision. It's a relief knowing that I will soon be able to leave here if everything is okay with me.

Dave enters the hospital room a few seconds after the doctors leave, looking extremely relieved. I really want to hug him but you're afraid to make sudden movements.

"You look like you got hit by a truck but I'm so glad you woke up. Sam and the girls were just as worried as I was, wondering when you would wake up." Dave says sitting in the companion's chair next to my hospital bed.

"How is Bucky?" It's all you can think about, wondering how my ex-husband was, who risked his life because of me.

"You won’t like to know. I think for your recovery, it’s better if you know this later.” Dave says while holding my hand softly.

"I need to know how he's doing Dave. If you consider yourself my best friend, start talking." My authoritative tone must be more powerful now because Dave seems to want to obey me.

"Barnes is working..." Dave sounds so uncertain saying this like he's afraid of my reaction.

"What do you mean, working?" Something inside me says I'm going to get stressed in the next few minutes.

"His father figured that Killian and Rogers would betray him and made a dossier and secretly handed it in before he died. The FBI and national security had no doubts about Barnes' innocence so as soon as he recovered from his injuries, he returned to work. I think he even got promoted." Because this information doesn't surprise you, it reminds you why I ended up ending my relationship with Barnes.

"What a son of a bitch, how can he come back after everything we've been through...what about Rogers and Killian?" This I really hope that one of them is at least arrested.

"Both are on the run from the police, but they disappeared. Which is kind of good news." Dave talks trying to sound optimistic.

"They both have reasons to kill me. Which makes it even worse." Stress slowly eats away at me as I imagine how unbearable my life will be.

"We will be with you and Barnes will also take care of you. Rumor has it that you're going to have cops watching." Dave tries to calm me down, which somehow works.

"I think I'm going to need some time to adapt to this information but I'm glad I'm back." I say, holding Dave's hand tightly as I lie to his face. I'm not happy, I'm desperate. My father died, my ex husband is still the same idiot and there are two cruel men wanting my head. I couldn't be more fucked up.

[barnesnatts]

New look at Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes in Marvel's THUNDERBOLTS.😍

[yikesdrama]

for one perfect moment 🩵 (i) — Bucky Barnes

summary: bucky’s birthday is coming up soon and you just want to do something special for him, maybe even take a time travelling trip to see his maa….

word count: 6.6k

warnings: its just fluff, secret birthday planning & a lot of cuteness

a/n: please comment, like & reblog with your thoughts. i’m thinking of making it a three part series.

masterlist | next part

Steve Rogers looked across the table at you, arms crossed, brow furrowed in thought. The room felt warm and quiet despite the weight of the conversation, the faint hum of Stark Tech monitors filling the silence as your words lingered in the air.

Sam Wilson sat across from you, leaning back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in mild skepticism, but there was something softer in his expression—something almost amused.

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam began, tilting his head toward you. “Your brilliant idea for Bucky’s birthday is to—what—borrow Tony’s time machine, go back to the 1940s, and hang out with his family?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the edge of the table. Your voice had a determined edge, but your eyes betrayed a flicker of nervous energy. “I mean… think about it, Sam. When was the last time Bucky had a real family celebration? A moment where he wasn’t running from Hydra or fighting for his life or—” you paused, chewing your bottom lip—“feeling like he’s some kind of burden on the people around him?”

Steve straightened in his chair, his sharp blue eyes shifting from Sam to you. There was a stillness to him, like he was processing your words as if they were mission intel. “You’re not wrong,” he said finally, his voice calm but measured. “But it’s not exactly simple. Time travel isn’t… well, it’s not just a weekend getaway.”

“I know that,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he could build up steam. “I know it’s not simple, Steve, but it’s worth it. You know what this would mean to him. To see his mom & sisters, Steve. Don’t you think he deserves that?”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as well, as a slow grin spread across his face. “Y’know,” he said, pointing a finger at you, “I thought this idea was crazy at first, but now I’m starting to think you’re just crazy enough to pull it off. The question is, how do you convince Stark to hand over the keys to his fancy time machine?”

“Oh, I’ve got a plan for that,” you said, brushing off Sam’s teasing tone with a wave of your hand. “Tony owes me. Big time.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“Do you really want to know?” You smirked, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied expression. “Let’s just say it involves a highly classified Avengers mission, a stray cat, and one very expensive pair of Tony’s sunglasses.”

Sam barked out a laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. “Okay, now I definitely want to know.”

“It’s not important!” you said quickly, your cheeks flushing. “The point is, I can get Tony on board. But I need you two to back me up. He’s not going to go for this unless he knows it’s not just some ‘sentimental whim.’” You air-quoted the words dramatically, your voice dropping into a passable imitation of Stark’s dry tone.

Steve’s lips twitched into a faint smile, the kind that said he was almost convinced but still holding out for the catch. “Let’s say you get Tony to agree. How exactly are you planning to make this work? The timeline has rules. You can’t just drop in on the 1940s like it’s a costume party.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know that. Look, I’ve been thinking this through. We’d be careful. In and out, no interference with the timeline. Just… a quiet visit with his family. Maybe a week, max. Enough time for him to have a real birthday celebration. I mean, wouldn’t you want that if you were in his shoes?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze settling on a spot on the wall. For a moment, the room went quiet. Sam exchanged a glance with you, his humor softening into something more thoughtful. Steve’s voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet but firm. “Yeah. I would.”

Your expression softened, and you reached out across the table, your hand brushing against Steve’s. “Then you understand why this is so important. He’s been through so much, Steve. We all know that. He deserves to feel important.”

Sam let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “You’re laying it on thick. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re whipped for the guy.”

Your face went red, but you didn’t back down. “Of course I’m whipped for him Sam, I’m in love with him. That’s why I’m doing this.”

Steve and Sam both froze, their expressions caught somewhere between surprise and something softer.

Steve blinked, his hand unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. “Well,” he said, his voice low, “I can’t argue with that.”

Sam recovered first, his grin wide and teasing. “You’re really pulling the romance card, huh?”

“Shut up, Wilson,” you shot back, but there was no real heat in your voice. “Are you in or not?”

Sam laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’m in, I’m in. You had me at ‘time machine.’”

Steve sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’ll help you,” he said, his tone firm but kind. “But we do this by the book. No cutting corners, no unnecessary risks. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you said quickly, your eyes bright with excitement. “Thank you, Steve. I mean it.”

“Alright, so what’s the next step? Do we just march into Stark Tower and ask Tony for a favour.” Sam clapped his hands together, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Because I’ve gotta say, I don’t think the guy’s gonna go for it without some serious persuasion.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’ve got a plan.”

Later that evening, the three of you stood in Tony’s lab, the soft glow of holographic displays casting blue light across the room. Tony Stark was pacing, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his expression equal parts amused and exasperated.

“Let me make sure I’m hearing this correctly,” he said, stopping mid-stride to look at you. “You want me to loan you my multi-billion-dollar time travel machine so you can throw a birthday party in the 1940s?”

“Not just a party,” you corrected, your tone matter-of-fact. “A family reunion. For Bucky.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You know, when I built this thing, I had slightly higher ambitions in mind. Like, oh, I don’t know, saving the universe?”

“This is saving the universe,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “His universe.”

Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward. “It’s important, Tony. For Bucky. He hasn’t seen his family since the war. This would mean everything to him.”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You people really know how to tug at the ol’ heartstrings, don’t you?”

Sam smirked. “Comes with the territory.”

There was a long pause, and then Tony shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But if you break it, you buy it. And by ‘it,’ I mean the space-time continuum.”

You beamed, and for a moment, it felt like the entire room had brightened. “Thank you, Tony. You have no idea how much this means.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, waving you off. “Just don’t make me regret it. And keep Rogers out of trouble while you’re at it. Don’t want him to end up fighting someone in the alley.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. He had a feeling this was going to be one birthday Bucky would never forget.

That evening, the living room of the Avengers Compound had never felt so cramped. Steve sat in his usual spot, his arms stretched over the back of the couch, trying to look casual while his stomach twisted with the weight of your not-so-secretive plan.

Next to him, you perched on the edge of the sofa cushion, your knee bouncing nervously as your eyes flicked between the TV and Sam. The movie playing on the screen was some action flick that none of you were actually watching—except maybe Bucky, who was obliviously sprawled out on the recliner, munching on popcorn.

Steve couldn’t help but glance at Bucky every few seconds, half expecting him to suddenly leap up and call their bluff. It was a ridiculous fear, considering how utterly relaxed Bucky seemed, but it didn’t stop Steve’s heart from racing every time Bucky so much as turned his head.

Sam, seated on the armrest of the couch, leaned over toward you and murmured under his breath, his tone just loud enough for Steve to catch. “So, what’s the next move, mastermind?”

Your lips twitched into a quick, nervous smile as you shot him a sideways glance. “We need to talk to Strange,” you whispered, your voice low but brimming with determination. “But we have to be careful. Bucky can’t know. Not even a hint.”

“Yeah, no pressure,” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes. He popped a handful of M&Ms into his mouth and slouched slightly, doing his best impression of someone who actually cared about the car chase on the screen.

“Can you two stop whispering?” Steve whispered yelled, though his voice lacked any real authority. He reached for the remote, fiddling with the volume button and turned it up. “If you’re going to conspire, at least don’t do it two feet away from him.”

You shot him a look, rolling your eyes. “What do you want us to do, Steve? Write notes and pass them like we’re in fifth grade?”

Sam smirked, leaning closer to you. “I mean, it might be safer. He’s got super-hearing. For all we know, he’s—”

“Sam,” Steve cut in, his tone warning, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Not helping.”

Bucky, blissfully unaware of the tension simmering behind him, let out a low chuckle at something on the screen. Steve froze, his eyes darting to you, and you looked like you were about to jump out of your skin. Your eyes flicked back to Sam, then to Steve, your expression screaming this is impossible.

“Alright, alright,” Sam said quietly, lifting his hands in surrender. “Let’s just get out of here before you two have a nervous breakdown. We can go talk to Strange.”

Steve nodded, grateful for the excuse to move things along. “Good idea,” he said, standing and stretching like he’d just remembered an urgent errand. “We’ll, uh, be back in a bit, Buck.”

“Where are you going?” Bucky asked casually, his eyes still glued to the screen.

You froze, your face an open book of panic, and Steve jumped in before you could flounder. “Oh, uh… just running an errand. These two are just tagging along for backup.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, finally turning his attention away from the movie to look at you. “Backup? For what?”

“Moral support?” you stated hesitantly.

Sam snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement before he covered it up with a cough.

Bucky gave you all a skeptical once-over but eventually shrugged, settling back into his chair. “Whatever. Just don’t die out there.”

“Got it,” you blurted, grabbing Sam’s arm and practically dragging him toward the door. Steve followed, his stomach knotting tighter with every step.

The three of you didn’t speak until you were outside and halfway to Steve’s SUV.

Sam finally broke the silence with a low whistle. “That was smooth. Real smooth.”

You shot him a glare, your cheeks still flushed. “You’re not helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Sam replied, grinning as he climbed into the back seat.

Steve rolled his eyes and opened the passenger door for you to get in & sit, his patience already wearing thin.

Once you were on the road, the tension in the car started to ease, though Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a very fine line. You sat beside him, fiddling with the hem of your sweater as you stared out the window. You looked nervous but determined, your lips pressed into a firm line.

Steve studied you for a moment, his mind drifting to all the times he’d seen that same look on your face. It was the look you got when you were planning something big—something you believed in with your whole heart. He couldn’t help but admire you for it, even if it made him nervous.

“So,” Sam said, breaking the silence as he leaned back in his seat, “what’s the game plan with Strange? You gonna sweet-talk him like you did with Stark?”

You snorted, finally tearing your gaze away from the window to look at Sam. “I don’t think Strange is the ‘sweet-talk’ type.”

“Good point,” Sam said with a grin. “So what’s the backup plan? Bribery? Begging? Threats?”

“None of the above,” you said firmly. “I’m just going to explain the plan and hope he understands.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? No clever strategy? No emotional appeals? You’re really putting all your eggs in the ‘logic and reason’ basket?”

Steve cut in before you could retort. “She’s right. Strange isn’t the kind of guy you can manipulate. He’ll respect honesty.”

You gave him a small, grateful smile. You were stubborn, sure, but you were also smart—smarter than you gave yourself credit for sometimes.

When you arrived outside the Sanctum Sanctorum, you were the first to get out of the car, despite the nervous energy radiating off you. Steve followed close behind, with Sam bringing up the rear, muttering something under his breath about “mystical nonsense.”

Stephan Strange greeted you at the door, his expression unreadable as always. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his chest, the red of his cloak catching the door light in a way that made him look almost regal.

“This better be important,” he said, his tone clipped but not unkind. “I don’t have time for casual visits.”

You stepped forward, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. “It is important. I promise.”

Strange raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the two men behind you. “Alright. Come in.”

The inside of the Sanctum was just as strange and imposing as Steve remembered. You seemed unfazed, though he noticed you glancing around with a mix of curiosity and awe.

“So,” Strange said once you were seated in his study, “what’s this all about?”

You took a deep breath, your hands resting in your lap. “I want to use the time travel machine Tony built to take Bucky back to the 1940s for his birthday.”

Strange blinked, his expression carefully neutral. “That’s… specific.”

“It’s important,” you said quickly, leaning forward slightly. “I just want him to have a chance to see his family again. To know they’re okay. And I promise we won’t do anything to change the timeline. No interference, no big disruptions. Just… a visit.”

Strange studied you for a long moment, his fingers steepled under his chin. “You’re asking me to approve a plan that involves traveling to the past and interacting with people who are supposed to remain unaware of future events. Do you understand how delicate this is?”

“I do,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’ve thought it through. The only thing I plan to do is explain to his family what happened to him—why he disappeared. They deserve to know he’s okay, even if they never see him again. And when I bring him there, it’ll just be for a week. A chance for him to see his family once.”

Strange’s gaze flicked to Steve, then to Sam, as if gauging their reactions. “And you’re both on board with this?”

Sam shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my birthday, but if it makes Bucky happy, I’m all for it.”

Steve nodded, his expression serious. “It’s risky, but I trust her. She won’t let anything happen to the timeline.”

“You’re lucky I’ve seen weirder requests.” Strange said letting out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Fine. As long as you stick to your word and don’t try to rewrite history, I won’t stop you.”

Your face lit up, and Steve felt a wave of relief wash over him. Strange wasn’t exactly the sentimental type, but he’d clearly seen something in your determination that convinced him.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You have no idea how much this means.”

Strange waved you off, his tone dry as usual. “Just don’t make me regret it. And for the love of all things sacred, don’t try to save Barnes from falling of the train in the past. You’ll just make things worse.”

“I won’t,” you promised quickly. “This is about giving him something good now, not changing what’s already happened.”

“Good,” Strange said, standing and gesturing toward the door. “Now get out of my Sanctum before I change my mind.”

As you walked back to the car, your steps were lighter, almost bouncing. You turned to Steve and Sam, a wide grin on your face. “That went better than I expected.”

Sam smirked. “Yeah, thanks to your sales pitch.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t lose your smile. For the first time all day, you felt a genuine sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this plan was going to work.

Okay, see the thing was Steve had witnessed his fair share of devotion in his lifetime. He had seen love in wartime letters clutched tightly in trembling hands, in quiet glances exchanged across rooms, and even in the sacrifices people made for each other on the battlefield.

But nothing—not in the 1940s, not in the decades since—compared to the sheer, shameless fervor of your love for Bucky Barnes.

He leaned back against the counter of the kitchen, arms crossed, as he watched you chatter animatedly with Sam and Natasha, your eyes alight with that unmistakable spark. You had this way of talking about Bucky that made it impossible not to notice the utter adoration woven into your every word.

It wasn’t just love; it was full-blown, unapologetic obsession.

“And then,” you said, your hands moving wildly as you recounted some small, undoubtedly inconsequential moment, “he just sat there, all broody, like he was single-handedly carrying the weight of the world. And I said, ‘Bucky, you don’t have to pretend to be a tortured poet every time it rains!’” You grinned, clearly delighted with your own story. “He didn’t laugh, of course, but I swear I saw his lip twitch.”

Natasha smirked, sipping her coffee. “Sounds like a real charmer.”

“Oh, he is,” you said, beaming as though Nat’s comment had been an actual compliment. “You just have to get past the murdery vibe, you know? It’s all part of his charm.”

Sam snorted so loudly that Steve thought he might choke on his drink. “Murdery vibe? That’s the phrase you’re going with to describe your boyfriend?”

“It’s accurate!” you insisted, unbothered by the teasing. “You just don’t understand him the way I do. Beneath all that scowling and brooding, he’s—”

“A ray of sunshine?” Natasha interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly!” you said brightly, completely oblivious to the sarcasm, again. “He’s my sunshine.”

Steve suppressed a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. He loved you—he really did—but hearing you wax poetic about his grumpy, perpetually unimpressed best friend was almost too much to bear. It wasn’t the first time, either. In fact, it was a near-daily occurrence.

What astounded Steve the most, though, was how far you were willing to go for Bucky.

Time Travel.

Literal time travel, just so Bucky could have one good birthday with the family he’d lost decades ago. Steve wasn’t sure if it was romantic or utterly insane—probably a mix of both. Either way, he couldn’t deny that it was impressive.

“So,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, “how’s the time travel plan coming along? Did Strange give you the green light?”

“Green as it gets,” you said, practically bouncing in your seat. “He said it wouldn’t mess up the timeline as long as we’re careful. I mean, no big hero moves, no trying to rewrite history, and definitely no saving Bucky in the past.” You paused, your face briefly clouding with thought. “Not that I wouldn’t want to, but you know… rules.”

Sam shook his head, laughing under his breath. “Man, you really would mess with the space-time continuum for him, wouldn’t you?”

You turned to him, your expression dead serious. “In a heartbeat.”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at that, the sound low and amused. “Y’know, I’ve seen people go to some crazy lengths for the people they love, but this…” He gestured vaguely, as if words couldn’t quite capture the enormity of your plan. “This might take the cake.”

You turned to him, your expression softening. “Steve, if you could go back and give Peggy one more dance, wouldn’t you?”

The question hit him harder than he expected, his chest tightening as the image of Peggy Carter flickered in his mind. He didn’t answer right away, but you didn’t push him. You just gave him a knowing look, your eyes full of understanding.

“Alright, fine,” Nat cut in, breaking the heavy silence. “Let’s not get all sentimental. You still have one problem, genius. Tony Stark. What’s the plan for getting him on board?”

“We already got Tony on board,” you said smugly, folding your arms as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You? You convinced Tony Stark to let you borrow his precious time machine?”

“Of course,” you said with a shrug. “I just told him it was for Bucky’s birthday, and he rolled his eyes and said, ‘Fine, but if you break it, you’re paying for it.’ Honestly, I think he secretly likes the idea. He’d never admit it, but you know how he is.”

Natasha exchanged a glance with Sam, her expression halfway between impressed and incredulous. “I can’t believe Stark fell for that.”

“Oh, he didn’t ‘fall for it,’” you said, making air quotes with your fingers. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. He just pretends to be all grumpy and detached, but deep down, he’s a big softie.”

Sam let out a low whistle. “Man, I think you’ve got a thing for grumpy guys.”

“Only one grumpy guy,” you said, your smile softening. “And he’s worth it.”

Steve looked away, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wasn’t used to seeing someone care about Bucky like this—someone who saw him as more than just the Winter Soldier or the guy with a past too dark to talk about.

You saw Bucky. The real Bucky. And you loved him for it.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and Tony strolled in, a cup of coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. “What’s all this about me being a softie?” he asked, his tone dry as he leaned against the counter.

You didn’t miss a beat. “I said you’re a grumpy softie. Big difference.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, I’d revoke your time-travel privileges.”

“Softie,” you said, waving him off.

Tony smirked but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his attention to Steve. “So, Captain Sentimental, are you ready to supervise this little field trip? Because I am not cleaning up any timeline messes.”

Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What choice do I have?”

Tony looked you over, his expression softening just slightly. “You’re really doing all this for Barnes?”

You nodded, your eyes shining. “He deserves it.”

Tony was quiet for a moment, then he nodded, his usual sarcasm melting away. “Well, good luck, sunshine. Try not to get too lost in the 1940s.”

As Tony left the room, the conversation drifted to logistics—timing, equipment, and all the little details that needed to be ironed out before the mission. But even as you talked, Steve couldn’t stop thinking about what Tony had said.

Sunshine.

Steve glanced at you, watching as you leaned over a map on the table, your brow furrowed in concentration. You might not have realized it, but Tony was right. You really were a ray of sunshine—Bucky’s sunshine, in the darkest corners of his life.

And for that, Steve couldn’t be more grateful.

A few hours later, Steve sat on a folding chair, leaning back slightly as he gazed at the clear night sky. The rooftop was quiet, save for the faint hum of the compound below and the soft rustling of the wind.

Beside him, Bucky nursed a beer, his metal fingers absently turning the bottle in his hand, the soft clink of metal on glass barely audible. Sam was sprawled out in another chair, his legs stretched long, an empty bottle balanced precariously on his knee.

The silence was companionable, broken only by the occasional sip or the muffled sound of Sam muttering about how the stars weren’t visible like this back in D.C. Steve let himself relax for a moment, the crisp air cool against his skin. But, as usual, his thoughts wandered to you and your relentless energy over the past few weeks.

“You know,” he started, tilting his head toward Bucky, “your girlfriend is disgustingly obsessed with you.”

Bucky choked on his beer, shaking his head as he swallowed the wrong way. “What?” he said, laughing as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Steve smirked, taking a sip from his bottle. “I’m just saying. It’s impressive, honestly. I’ve never seen anyone so… determined to adore someone.”

“Yeah, man. She’s got it bad. Like, embarrassing bad.” Sam laughed outright, his deep chuckle rolling into the night.

Bucky leaned back, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a small grin. “You think I don’t know that?” He shook his head, the grin softening into something fonder. “She’s been like that since day one. But hey, I can’t say much—I’m just as bad.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” Sam said, raising his bottle in mock toast. “Two of you are a real power couple of mutual obsession.”

Bucky just chuckled, his eyes flicking up toward the sky as silence fell over the group again. Steve let it linger, his thoughts wandering to how Bucky’s face softened every time you entered a room, or how his mood lifted when you were around. It was a strange thing to see—the hardened Winter Soldier so easily disarmed by one person—but Steve couldn’t deny how much you had changed Bucky.

Maybe even saved him.

After a few minutes, Bucky spoke up, his voice quieter now. “She’s planning something, isn’t she?”

Sam, mid-sip, choked on his beer, his coughing fit loud enough to make Steve wince. “What?” Sam rasped, pounding a fist against his chest. “What are you talking about?”

Steve glanced at Bucky, keeping his face neutral despite the mild panic rising in his chest. “What makes you say that?”

Bucky turned to him, his expression amused. “Oh, come on, Steve. She’s been vibrating with energy for weeks. Every time she looks at me, she lights up brighter than the damn sun. She’s up to something.”

Steve fought to keep his expression steady, his mind racing for an answer. He couldn’t exactly tell Bucky the truth—that you were plotting a time-traveling birthday reunion with his long-dead family. Instead, he opted for the simplest approach: deflect. “Could be just a coincidence.”

Wow Steve well done, what a deflect. Idiot!

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, because her suddenly acting like a kid on Christmas has nothing to do with the fact that my birthday’s coming up.”

Steve’s lips twitched. He wanted to feel annoyed at how sharp Bucky could be, but mostly he was impressed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck. Maybe she’s just excited.”

Sam cleared his throat, raising his hands as if in surrender. “Listen, man, I love my life, so I’m not spilling anything. But if she’s planning something, it’s probably just a good old-fashioned birthday party. Cake, candles, maybe some embarrassing speeches. Nothing to worry about.”

Steve nodded, grateful for Sam’s quick thinking. “Exactly. Nothing big. She probably just wants to make it special.”

Bucky studied them both for a moment, his blue eyes sharp even in the dim light. Then he laughed softly, shaking his head. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But I know she’s up to something.”

Steve exhaled, letting some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Bucky didn’t know. Not really. And as long as they kept playing it cool, he wouldn’t find out until the time was right.

That was when they heard it: your voice, ringing out from somewhere below, loud and unmistakable. “Baby! Come down, I need your help with something!”

Sam froze, his bottle halfway to his lips, before glancing at Bucky with a grin that was entirely too pleased. “Baby, huh?”

“Unbelievable,” Steve muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She had to call you that now?”

Bucky’s grin stretched wide, his expression a mix of amusement and pride. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called back, his voice louder than yours. “I’ll be down in a minute, babydoll!”

Steve closed his eyes, willing himself to have patience. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. A six-foot-three super soldier—grumpy, broody, intimidating Bucky Barnes—was casually calling you “babydoll” in front of them like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Sam, predictably, couldn’t contain his laughter. “Babydoll?” he repeated, his voice cracking with amusement. “Man, I’ve heard it all now.”

Bucky shrugged, unbothered by the teasing. “What can I say? She likes it.”

“And you like her calling you ‘baby,’” Steve added, his tone half-teasing, half-exasperated.

“Damn right I do,” Bucky said, standing up and stretching. “You two can sit up here and laugh all you want, but I’ve got a girl waiting for me. Try not to get too jealous.”

As he disappeared down the stairs, Sam turned to Steve, still grinning. “You know,” he said, shaking his head, “for a guy who used to be Hydra’s deadliest weapon, he’s real soft now.”

Steve chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’ve got someone who loves you like she does.”

Sam nodded, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “Yeah. It’s good for him.”

Steve looked out at the stars, his mind drifting again. He couldn’t help but agree. For the first time in a long time, Bucky had someone who saw him—not as a soldier or a weapon, but as a man worth loving. And that, Steve thought, was the best gift anyone could ever give him.

Somewhere in 1946, Brooklyn.

The modest brownstone on Brooklyn’s east side stood in quiet defiance of the bustling world around it. Mrs. Winnifred Barnes—Winnie to her late husband and close friends—sat at the small kitchen table, her hands folded tightly together, a pot of tea growing cold on the counter. The house was too quiet now, emptier than it had ever been. Rebecca was at school, and though she tried to keep the chatter alive when she was home, it couldn’t fill the void left behind by James.

Her boy.

It had been several months since the letter arrived, stamped with the insignia of the United States Army. The words blurred in her mind even now, but the message was clear: Missing in Action. Presumed Dead.

Her James. Her troublemaker, her beautiful boy with his wide grin and steady blue eyes. Gone. And no one could even tell her how, or where, or if he’d suffered.

She exhaled slowly, her fingers curling tighter. Every time she thought she had no more tears left to cry, the ache returned, fresh and sharp as ever. But this time, something else lingered—a strange sense of unease, like the air had shifted. It was quiet, but not in the usual way.

Something was coming.

The knock at the door startled her. It was brisk, not hesitant like the neighbors checking in or the pastor bringing by a casserole. Winnie frowned, wiping her hands on her apron as she rose. Her steps were measured, careful, as though the visitor might vanish if she approached too quickly.

Opening the door, she was greeted by a sight that immediately threw her off balance. The young woman standing there looked as though she had stepped out of some dream—or perhaps a nightmare.

Your clothes were strange, fitted in ways Winnie couldn’t quite comprehend, and your hair was loose and flowing in a style that seemed almost scandalous. But it was your eyes that caught Winnie most—a peculiar mix of softness and urgency.

“Mrs. Barnes?” you asked, your voice steady but kind.

Winnie hesitated, her hand tightening on the doorknob. “Who’s asking?”

You smiled faintly, “I… I need to speak with you. It’s about James.”

Winnie’s heart clenched, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. “James?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“May I come in?” you asked, your tone gentle but insistent. “I promise it’ll make sense. I just need a moment of your time.”

Winnie hesitated for only a heartbeat before stepping aside. Something in your voice—or perhaps the way you said James’ name—demanded trust, though it made no sense at all.

The kitchen felt smaller with you standing there, your presence filling the room in a way Winnie couldn’t quite explain. She gestured toward the table, and you sat down without hesitation, your hands folded neatly in your lap. Winnie remained standing, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as though bracing herself.

“What do you know about my son?” Winnie asked, her voice firmer now, tinged with suspicion. “The Army already sent their letter. Unless you’re here with new information—”

“I am. There’s something you should know.” you interrupted, your eyes meeting Winnie’s with unwavering determination. “I know this is going to come as a shock but Mrs. Barnes, James isn’t dead.”

The words landed like a bombshell, shattering the fragile quiet of the room. Winnie felt her knees threaten to buckle, but she forced herself to stand tall. “What did you say?”

“He’s alive,” you said softly. “It’s a long story, and I know it’s going to sound… unbelievable. But I promise you, every word is true.”

Winnie sank into the chair opposite you, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain you could hear it. “You’d better start talking, young lady.”

You nodded, your hands tightening briefly on the edge of the table before you began. “When James fell from the train, he survived the fall. But… he didn’t come home because Hydra found him first.”

“Hydra?” Winnie repeated, frowning.

“They were… they are… a very bad group of people,” you explained, your voice tightening. “They were part of the war, working in secret. When they found James, they… they took him. He was badly injured—he lost his left arm—but they didn’t care about helping him. They used him.”

Winnie’s throat went dry, her chest tightening painfully. “Used him? For what?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your words pressing visibly on your shoulders. “They replaced his arm with a metal one. And then… they brainwashed him. They erased who he was and turned him into someone else. They forced him to do terrible things—things he would never have done if he’d had a choice.”

Winnie stared at you, her hands trembling. “You’re telling me… my boy’s been alive all this time, and he’s been… tortured?”

“It’s worse than that,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “They put him in cryo-freeze, a kind of suspended animation. It keeps the body from aging. They would wake him up every now and then, make him do their missions, and then put him back on ice. He was never in control, Mrs. Barnes. Not once.”

The room seemed to tilt, and Winnie pressed a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand. If all this is true, why hasn’t he come home? Why hasn’t anyone told me?”

“He couldn’t,” you said softly. “Not until recently. But now… now he’s free. He’s safe. And I wanted you to know that.”

Winnie shook her head, disbelief and hope warring in her chest. “How do you know all of this? Who are you?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’m from the future. From 2025.”

Winnie stared at you, waiting for you to laugh, to smile and admit it was all some elaborate joke. But your face remained serious, your eyes filled with an honesty Winnie couldn’t deny. “The future,” she repeated faintly.

“Yes,” you said. “I know how it sounds. But it’s true. I came back to tell you about James because… because you deserve to know.”

Winnie leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. None of it made sense, and yet something about your voice, your demeanor, made it impossible to dismiss you entirely. “If you’re from the future,” she said slowly, “then tell me something else. Tell me about… Steven Rogers.”

Your expression softened. “He’s alive too.”

Winnie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “No.”

“He is,” you said, your voice gentle. “He survived when he put the plane down in the water. They found him 70 years later, frozen in the ice, but alive. Just like James.”

Winnie felt tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. “They’re both alive,” she whispered. “My boys are alive.”

“Yes,” you said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “And they’re together. Living in Brooklyn. James is free, Mrs. Barnes. He’s been pardoned for everything Hydra made him do, and he’s a hero now. People love him.”

Winnie’s breath hitched, a sob breaking free from her chest. She clutched your hand tightly, the tears flowing freely now. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice trembling. “You’re absolutely sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said firmly. “He’s safe. He’s happy.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Winnie allowed herself to believe it. Her boy was alive. And somehow, impossibly, everything was going to be okay.

Winnie’s hands, now resting limply on her lap, still trembled with the weight of what she’d been told. She didn’t know where to begin. What question could possibly make sense of the impossible? How could you, so composed and confident, sit there and tell her these outlandish, earth-shattering truths as though they were simple facts?

Her James.

Alive. Free. Safe.

But at what cost?

“Mrs. Barnes?” you asked softly, breaking the silence that had stretched too long. Your voice was patient, a warm balm against the storm raging in Winnie’s chest. “I know this is a lot to take in. If you need me to explain anything again, I’m happy to.”

Winnie blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus. Her hands twisted together in her lap as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I—I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “You’re telling me my son’s been alive all this time… suffering, being used like some kind of—” Her breath hitched, and she shook her head, unable to finish the thought. “How could anyone do that to him?”

Your face softened, your expression filled with sympathy. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “Hydra is… they were ruthless. They didn’t see him as a person. They saw him as a weapon. But he’s not like that anymore. He’s found his way back to himself.”

Winnie’s gaze snapped to yours, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How do you know all of this? You’ve never told me who you are, or why you care so much about my James.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. For the first time, you looked unsure, as though the question had caught you off guard.

To Be Continued….

[shybluebirdninja]

Primal Claim

Summary: Bucky Barnes finally succumbs to his desire, claiming you with rough, passionate dominance, leaving no doubt that you belong to him completely.

Pairings           : Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Note                 : explicit content, rough sex, domination

The room was buzzing with the usual banter of the Avengers. Laughter filled the air, a mix of inside jokes and teasing, but your eyes were fixed on only one person—Bucky Barnes. That sharp jawline, the piercing blue eyes, and that rough edge that never seemed to soften. You’d been pushing him for months now, dropping hints, teasing him when you had the chance. And tonight, after yet another playful jab from the team about your not-so-subtle crush on him, you could feel the tension in the air shift.

You were no stranger to the comments. Hell, even Tony had joined in on the teasing at one point, always with a smirk and a “C’mon, Barnes, you gonna do something or let her pine away forever?” The whole damn team knew. It was impossible not to notice how you'd bring Bucky his favorite coffee without being asked, or how your eyes lingered a little too long when he walked into a room.

But Bucky? He’d always played it cool, keeping you at arm's length, though you swore you caught the flicker of something darker in his gaze when he thought no one was watching.

Tonight, though, there was a different energy in the air. You knew he was at his breaking point—hell, you were pushing him there on purpose.

The night had dragged on, and you had finally caught him alone, sitting in the corner of the dimly lit common room. You sauntered over, your hips swaying just enough to catch his attention. You knew exactly what you were doing, and by the way his eyes darkened as they tracked your movements, you knew he was done holding back.

“Bucky,” you purred, leaning against the couch, one hand resting on the backrest while you let your fingers brush just close enough to his shoulder. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Something on your mind?”

He looked up at you, his jaw tight, his eyes stormy, and for a second, you thought he might actually walk away, like he had so many times before. But then, something shifted in him. His gaze locked on you, hard and unrelenting, and before you could say another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap, his grip firm but not painful. The sudden move took you by surprise, but the heat between you two was undeniable.

“You think this is a game, huh?” His voice was low, gravelly, dripping with that rough edge that always made your knees weak. “You’ve been pushing me for months. Teasing me. Bringing me coffee, smiling at me like that, letting the whole damn team watch you do it.” His metal hand gripped your waist now, fingers digging into your skin, and it sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as the intensity in his gaze burned through you. This wasn’t the soft, playful Bucky everyone saw. No, this was the soldier, the one who didn’t fuck around. And he was tired of pretending.

“I don’t think you mind it as much as you pretend to,” you shot back, though your voice was breathier than you intended. You wanted to keep up the teasing, but damn it, he had you on edge with just a look.

Bucky’s lips twitched, but there was no smile. “Mind it?” He scoffed, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you closer so you could feel the hard length of him pressing up against you. “You have no fuckin’ idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “You think I’ve been ignoring you because I don’t want you?”

Your breath hitched at the raw, animalistic tone in his voice. You tried to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you—like he was about to devour you—had you squirming in his lap.

“Bucky—” you started, but he cut you off.

“You’ve been driving me crazy for months, sweetheart.” His voice dropped even lower, and your heart skipped a beat as he stood up, lifting you effortlessly with him. He pressed you against the wall, his body flush with yours, pinning you there as he stared down at you with that unrelenting, possessive gaze. “And now you’re gonna see what happens when you push me too far.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. It wasn’t a gentle kiss—it was hungry, desperate, the kind of kiss that stole your breath and left you gasping for more. His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt, his fingers leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“You think you can keep teasing me and get away with it?” he growled against your lips, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your jeans. He yanked them down in one rough motion, his fingers immediately finding your slick heat. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you? All that teasing, and now you’re the one who’s desperate.”

You moaned as his fingers worked you over, his touch rough, unrelenting, exactly what you had been craving for so long. “Bucky, please—”

“Please, what?” he taunted, his voice low and dangerous. “You wanted this, didn’t you? Wanted me to lose control, to fuck you like you’ve been begging for.” His fingers slipped inside you, and you gasped, arching against him. “You’re mine, baby. No more games.”

He didn’t wait for a response. In one swift move, he had you spun around, your chest pressed against the wall as he pushed inside you, filling you completely with one brutal thrust. You cried out, the sensation overwhelming as he started moving, rough and fast, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave bruises.

“Bucky—fuck!” Your voice was breathless, your body shaking with the intensity of it all. But he didn’t slow down—he only went harder, his grunts and groans mixing with your moans as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

“You like that, huh?” he growled in your ear, his breath hot against your neck as he slammed into you again and again. “You like when I fuck you like this? When I make you mine?”

You could only moan in response, your legs trembling, barely able to hold yourself up as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm.

“Bucky—oh my God—” You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building in your core, but Bucky wasn’t done with you yet.

He spun you around again, lifting you up so you had to wrap your legs around his waist as he thrust into you, his body pressed against yours, hot and sweaty. “You’re not going anywhere, baby,” he growled, his voice rough and breathless as he buried himself inside you one last time. “You’re mine.”

And when you finally came, it was like a fucking explosion, your body shaking in his arms as he held you close, his own release following moments later, filling you completely. He didn’t let go, even after the shaking stopped, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Told you. You’re mine.”