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komotionlessqueenmm · 4 months ago

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Loyal Protector

(1-1)

Short story # 23

Gifs NOT mine.

Summary - After the whole world has died, you find yourself wandering the wastes with your loyal Captain at your side. And even in death Captain Steve Rogers swears to protect you at all costs.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 10 minutes

Sunlight glimmered off the iconic shield of Captain America, which hung from the dead man's arm like it was an extension of himself. Granted in many ways it was an extension of himself, in life and now even in death it would seem. (Y/n) looked at the reanimated corpse of her husband Captain Steve Rogers. Her heart ached painfully knowing she would never hear his voice again, be held in his strong sturdy arms, or share passionate kisses. Her Steve was gone, he died to buy her time to get away from the hord that had cornered them. Then three nights later she found herself face to face with his reanimated corpse. She'd held her pistol up with shaky hands, knowing she had to protect herself for his sake, or else his death would have been for nothing. Tears streamed down her face, unable to pull the trigger. A sob escaping her as he limped closer towards her, the hiss of his voice clutching at her broken heart, her lungs burning with every gasping breath she took.

Then he did something she never dreamed was possible. His hand pushed away her gun with purpose, placing himself before her, he rest his decaying forehead against her temple. They stayed that way for a short while, each of the growls and grunts escaping him made her jump. But she was to afraid to move away from him, afraid he would tear her apart the way the dead usually did with the living. They stood there like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n), but in reality it had only been a few minutes at best. The sound of shuffling footsteps made (Y/n) tense up, her spine going stiff and her heart hammering as adrenaline started pumping through her veins. The corpse of her late husband growled in dissatisfaction, and he whipped around faster than any reanimated corpse should, roaring in rage at the sight of another of the dead stumbling towards them. The Captain turned with a swiftness, throwing his shield at the intruding dead, the sheer force splitting the corpse in half at the waist. The shield ricochet off of a tree, and he caught it in a single smooth motion, as he did when he was alive. (Y/n) felt her bottom lip tremble, tears threatening to spill once more. He steps in front of her again, horse breath rattling in his failing repertory system. His head tilts a little to the left, and his free hand reaches out for her.

She flinches a little as his rotten fingers brushed her cheek, the touch gentle and uncertain. A sound bubbled from his torn throat, it sounded as if he were trying to speak, but it only managed to startle her. Again he shuffled closer, resting his forehead against her own, forcing her to look into his milky eyes. She wept at the sight of deep emotion swirling in his dead eyes. Her Captain, her Steve was still in there. "Steve." She whispered his name, her voice raw and broken. He made a sound like a purr, his eyes falling shut while he simply held her. She found herself leaning into his touch, finding comfort in knowing that his love for her eclipsed his now base desire to kill and feed. (Y/n) stumbled on a bit of rubble as they wondered the empty streets, and with reflexes no dead man should have, Steve caught her and stood her upright. "Thank you." She murmured softly, a faint smile ghosting her lips at the grunt of acknowledgement he gave in response. A noise from within a nearby building sprung the Captain into action, pulling (Y/n) to stand behind him, his shield held up in defense. A shot rang out from the building, and a bullet ricochet off of the iconic shield, making Steve roar with rage.

The last thing (Y/n) ever expected to see was her old friend Bucky to emerge from the building. His rifle held up and pointed at the Captain, who shifted to further guard (Y/n). "Bucky." She called out, peaking out from behind her deceased husband. The super soldier seemed to freeze at the sight of her, before his gaze hardened on his old pal. "(Y/n)? What are you?- Get away from him!" He tried to reason, his expression turning to near panic when (Y/n) moved to stand in front of Steve. "It's okay." She tried to tell her friend, who looked ready to bolt any second. "He... He won't hurt me." She explained, looking back at her husband who growled at Bucky, ready to defend (Y/n) at a moments notice. "Are you crazy? That's not Steve, not anymore!" Bucky hollered at her, wanting to protect his old pals wife. "He's still in there Buck, he protects me." (Y/n) told him, turning back to Steve, she touched his decaying face. Bucky wanted to shout to her, convenience her to run, but he was stunned into silence when Steve merely leaned into her touch, his glassy eyes closing and a rumble of a purr emanating from his rotten lungs.

"(Y/n) come with me, I have a small group of survivors, I'll keep you safe." Bucky said as he took a small step towards the two, Steve growled in warning, his attention snapping to Bucky, who froze in his tracks. "I don't think that would be safe." She said with a sad smile. "We should... We should let him rest." Bucky tried, flinching at the look of betrayal that flashed in (Y/n)'s eyes. "I can't do that Buck, he's my husband, and I still love him." She hissed at her friend, appalled that he would suggest that they kill Steve. "He's dead (Y/n)." Bucky reasoned. "Steve is still in there Bucky, why else would he keep protecting me?" She argued. "Please (Y/n) we have a compound, it's safe, secure. Let him rest." The soldier wouldn't give up so easily. "I won't leave him, I refuse to loose him." (Y/n) shot back, her agitation setting Steve on edge. The zombie growled deep and threateningly, a warning to Bucky to back off. "I'm staying out here, I don't care how dangerous it is, I won't leave Steve behind." She told her friend, her hand taking a delicate hold of Steve's arm, the one not holding his shield. "Fine... Bring him with you, but please come to the compound." Bucky said, taking a small step towards her. "I don't think that would be safe, not for the others." (Y/n) looked to her husband, knowing that if he thought anyone would be a threat to her, he'd kill them without a second thought.

"We'll make it safe, we'll set up a place away from the others for you. I can't in good faith just leave you out here." Bucky said again stepping closer, his anxiety easing a little, when Steve seemed to accept the distance closing between them. Steve's head turned to observe his wife, seemingly understanding what was going on. "If he remembers you, maybe he remembers me too." Bucky murmured quietly, holding out his metal hand to his old friend, who peered at him with milky eyes. When Bucky reached the pair, he touched the star on his dead friends uniform. A low rumble of noise rattled in the dead soldiers tattered throat, his grip on his shield tightening, though he didn't intend on striking. "If we can convince him, get him adjusted to being near the others, maybe we can make this work." Bucky said, as he let his hand fall away from the Captain. "I think it would be best if we stayed out here." (Y/n) murmured, not wanting anyone to attack Steve. "Fine... Then I'm staying out here with you, both of you." Bucky concluded, with a look of determination in his eyes. "Bucky you don't have to-" She tried telling him, but he cut her off. "Yes I do. If he could speak, Steve would agree with me." He said and (Y/n) glanced to her husband, who did seem to agree with what Bucky was saying. "Okay." She breathed out with a soft sigh.

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alliceolivia · 16 days ago

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New Year's Kiss (Bucky)

I thought about waiting to post this until New Year's... but why wait when you can give the people something sweet now? (cringe ik and idc)

pov Y/n

The frosty air nipped at your cheeks as you joined your friends on the front porch. Laughter and chatter filled the night, the energy electric as everyone counted down the minutes to the new year. Despite the festivity, your heart felt heavy. The fight with Bucky had lingered like a storm cloud over the holidays, casting shadows over what should have been joyful celebrations.

When you had invited him tonight, it had been a leap of faith—a last-ditch effort to mend what had gone wrong. You checked your phone again, but there were no new messages. Your heart sank further.

“He’s not coming, is he?” you whispered under your breath, forcing a smile as your friends nudged you to join the countdown. You let yourself be pulled outside, the chill of the air bracing against your simmering disappointment.

The countdown began.

“Ten… nine…”

You stole a glance at the street, hoping against hope.

“Eight… seven…”

Your breath puffed out in a frosty plume as you tried to shake the ache in your chest.

“Six… five…”

A distant rumble reached your ears, and your gaze snapped to the corner of the street. A car sped into view, tires crunching on snow as it came to a screeching halt in front of the house.

“Four… three…”

Your heart leaped as Bucky stepped out, his face flushed from the cold and something else entirely—determination.

“Two…”

“Bucky? Wha—” you started, but the words barely left your lips before he closed the distance between you, his metal hand cold as it cupped your cheek, his other pulling you into him. His lips met yours, warm and urgent, as the fireworks erupted in the sky.

Cheers and whoops erupted around you, but all you could hear was the thundering of your heart.

When he pulled away, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingled with yours in the cold night air. His voice was soft, but it carried the weight of everything he felt.

“No way I’m starting the new year without you,” he whispered. “I’ve acted like an ass. Please, forgive me.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you laughed, a watery, breathless sound that felt like the first rays of sunlight after a storm.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmured, your hands curling into the fabric of his coat. “But you’re my idiot.”

The tension broke as he laughed, his expression soft and hopeful. He kissed you again, slower this time, as the fireworks painted the sky in vibrant colors. Around you, the world celebrated, but all that mattered was the man holding you like he’d never let go.

“Happy New Year,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest.

“Happy New Year, doll,” he murmured back. And for the first time in weeks, everything felt exactly as it should

#oneshots #reader insert #female reader #marvel #one shot #short story #x yn #imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #winter soldier #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james barnes

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lanassgirlll · 18 days ago

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Love and Pain

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: A story about love, loss and a second chance.

Warnings: substance abuse, miscarriage, mental health struggles, emotional distress, angst(let me know if I am missing any)

AN: This story may be triggering for some people so please proceed with caution!

You and Bucky had been together for two years. You weren’t an Avenger or anything remotely close to that. You were just a kindergarten teacher, who loved her quiet life. Your days were filled with laughter from your students, your evenings spent with the man you loved, in the cozy apartment you shared.

The two of you had built a life together - a mix of his stoic practicality and your vibrant warmth. The apartment reflected that: his sparse military mementos were softened by your touches - art from your students, soft throw blankets, mismatched photo frames. For a time, it felt perfect.

Until it didn’t.

The change wasn’t sudden, not at first.

It was the subtle shifts in his behavior that you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. But as time went on, it became impossible to ignore.

Bucky had always been a soldier, in one way or another. You knew that. You understood the demands of his work, the weight of his responsibility as an Avenger. But it wasn’t just the missions themselves that were wearing on you anymore. It was the way they’d taken over his life - and in turn, yours.

At first, it was just a few days at a time. A mission here or there, where he’d be gone for a week or so, and you’d try to fill the gap with work, friends, hobbies, whatever you could. He’d call, send the occasional text, and when he came home, you’d throw yourself into making the most of the time you had together. But now.. now it was different.

He’d been gone for weeks - sometimes over a month - and there had been nothing. No calls. No texts. It was always the same story when he came back: "The mission ran longer than expected," or "We had to stay off the grid." He was always apologetic when he finally resurfaced, but the excuses felt hollow now. It was as if you had become an afterthought in his chaotic life, a person he’d get back to when he had a spare moment.

You tried to be understanding. You knew what he did wasn’t easy. You knew the stakes were high, that lives were on the line, that his work as an Avenger was something he couldn’t just walk away from. But the loneliness was unbearable.

It wasn’t just the silence when he was gone - it was the absence of him when he was home, too. Even when he returned, it felt like he was still somewhere else. He’d walk through the door with that tired look in his eyes, like he hadn’t seen a decent night's sleep in ages, and he’d settle into his old routine: training, reading through mission reports, checking in with the team. He was physically there, but emotionally? You might as well have been alone.

Some days, you felt like you didn’t even know the man you were living with anymore.

You would wait, and wait. For him to come home. For him to talk to you. For him to show up in the way he used to. And when he did return, you'd try to be the same woman you were before - eager to make him dinner, excited to talk about your day, hoping that maybe tonight he’d want to sit down with you, to hold you, to laugh like you used to.

But there was always something in his eyes - a faraway look. An urgency. An undercurrent of somewhere else, someone else. Every time he left again, you felt it. His absence didn't just physically separate you, it chipped away at something inside you, too.

Tonight, Bucky had just returned after being gone for over three weeks. You’d stayed up late, waiting for him. The clock on the wall ticked away, each passing second heavier than the last.

When the door finally opened, you didn’t feel the usual rush of excitement you once had. You didn’t feel the familiar warmth in your chest at the sight of him. Instead, there was just a hollow ache.

“Hey”, he said quietly, dragging his duffel bag inside, looking exhausted as always. His hair was a mess, his eyes tired, and his body language was stiff as he stood there in the doorway.

You didn’t know what you expected. Maybe a hug, maybe even just the smallest hint of affection. Something. Instead, you remained seated on the couch, staring at him, feeling the weight of everything unspoken between you.

“You okay?”, Bucky asked, as if he didn’t already know. He’d been gone for too long. How could he not know?

You swallowed hard, your chest tight. “I’m fine”, you said, but the words felt empty as they left your mouth. You weren't fine, but then again, you hadn’t been in weeks. Maybe months. And the more you tried to convince yourself you were okay, the more you realized how much you were breaking.

“Work been good?”, he asked, as if he was trying to fill the space between you with small talk, with questions that didn’t actually mean anything.

You nodded, the lie slipping so easily off your tongue, you almost believed it yourself. “Yeah, it’s been fine.” You’d barely thought about work these past few weeks. How could you? You couldn’t think of anything but him - him being gone, him being so far away, so unreachable.

There was a long silence, one that stretched between you like a thick, suffocating fog. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed him to see you, to hear you, to understand how you were feeling.

“Bucky, this.. this isn’t working”, you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re gone so much, and when you’re here, you’re not really here. I don’t -" You swallowed again, feeling the lump in your throat, "I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this”.

His eyes softened, either that, or you were so desperate for any kind of affection, that your mind was starting to play tricks on you.

The guard he’d built around himself was still there, so tight it was like trying to break through steel. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -” He paused, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t realize it was getting to you like this”.

“You didn’t realize?” Your voice cracked, the frustration and hurt seeping through. “Bucky, you’ve been gone for weeks at a time without even telling me where you are. You’re never here. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep doing this, waiting for you, when you don’t even see me anymore”.

You watched his face change as the words hit him. He didn’t say anything at first, just standing there, looking at you with a mix of guilt and confusion. You could see the internal battle happening in his head, the familiar struggle between his duty and his desire to make things right with you. But the truth was, it was too late for apologies.

“I love you, Bucky”, you whispered, your voice shaking now. “I love you so much, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being all alone just because you’re too busy saving the world to remember I exist”.

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a long time, he didn’t say a word. The silence between you felt unbearable, like the air had thickened, each moment stretching out further and further, until neither of you knew what to say or how to fix what had been broken.

One night, a few weeks later, Bucky came home for a fleeting reprieve before another mission. You had stayed up late, as you always did when he was away, waiting for the sound of his key turning in the lock. When he finally walked through the door, exhaustion etched into his features, your heart ached for him and for the distance that seemed to grow wider with each passing mission.

That night, desperation fueled your actions. The words you had been holding back melted away, replaced by a need to feel connected, to remind both of you of the love that had brought you together in the first place. You clung to him, pouring all your loneliness, your love, and your frustration into the embrace. The physical intimacy between you reignited as if it could mend what had been broken. The kisses were fervent, the touches electric, and for a moment, you felt as though the pieces of your fractured relationship had been glued back together, if only temporarily. In those stolen moments, you allowed yourself to believe that things might be okay.

Two weeks after he left again, you found yourself staring at a small plastic stick in your trembling hands, the word pregnant displayed in bold, unmistakable letters. The wave of emotions was overwhelming - shock, fear, disbelief, and above all, a glimmer of hope. You sank to the bathroom floor, clutching the test to your chest, tears streaming down your face. It felt surreal, as though the universe had offered you a fragile lifeline. You whispered to yourself, "This is it. This will bring us closer".

Your first instinct was to call Bucky. You dialed his number with shaking fingers, but it went straight to voicemail. You left a message, your voice shaky but tinged with cautious excitement. "Bucky, it’s me. Please call me when you can. It’s important. I.. I have something to tell you". You sent a few texts as well: "I need to talk to you. It’s good news" and "Please, call me when you’re able".

The days stretched on with no response. The silence grew heavier, more suffocating with each passing hour. You couldn’t sleep, your mind filled with questions and fears. Was he safe? Had something happened to him? Or worse, was he choosing not to reply? You tried to reason with yourself - he was likely on a mission, unreachable, off the grid. But the rationalizations did little to calm the storm within you.

Then, a few weeks after discovering the pregnancy, you were jolted awake in the dead of night by a searing pain in your abdomen. Panic gripped you as you felt the damp warmth spreading beneath you. When you turned on the bedside lamp, the sight of blood pooling between your legs stole the air from your lungs. A choked sob escaped your lips as you scrambled to reach your phone, dialing for emergency services with shaking hands.

The ride to the hospital was a blur, your heart pounding so loudly you could hardly hear your own thoughts. Every bump in the road sent fresh waves of pain coursing through you. By the time you arrived, your vision was clouded by tears. Nurses and doctors swarmed around you, their voices a mix of calm instructions and urgent medical jargon.

"Miss, we need to get you into an exam room immediately", one nurse said, her voice gentle but firm as she helped you onto a stretcher. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but clutch your abdomen and nod weakly.

In the brightly lit examination room, a doctor - a middle-aged woman, with kind eyes and a steady demeanor - introduced herself. "I’m Dr. Reyes. We’re going to do everything we can to figure out what’s going on, okay? I need you to tell me when the pain started".

You struggled to form words through the haze of fear and pain. "I.. woke up. It just started.. and then the blood". Your voice broke, and fresh tears streamed down your face.

Dr. Reyes nodded, her expression compassionate but professional. "I’m going to do an ultrasound now to see what’s happening. Try to stay as still as you can".

The gel was cold against your skin as she moved the probe across your abdomen. You stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the terrified pounding of your heart. After a few moments, the doctor sighed softly, her brow furrowed.

"I… I’m so sorry", she said gently. "It looks like you’ve experienced a miscarriage. There’s no heartbeat".

The words shattered something inside you. "No", you whispered, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, please, you have to check again. It’s… it’s too soon".

Dr. Reyes placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I wish I had better news. We’re going to take care of you and make sure you’re stable, but I’m so sorry for your loss".

The rest of the night passed in a haze of procedures and whispered condolences. Nurses came and went, offering quiet reassurances as they tended to you. But no words could reach you. You felt hollow, as if the world had drained you of everything that mattered.

When you were finally discharged, you returned to the apartment, though it no longer felt like home. The silence was deafening, and the weight of your grief pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket. Everywhere you looked, there were traces of him - his jacket draped over a chair, his book left half-read on the coffee table. And now, there was the weight of what could have been. The space that had once been your sanctuary now felt like a tomb, echoing with memories of a life you could no longer bear to face.

You couldn’t stay. The emptiness was too much, the reminders too painful. You packed your belongings with a heavy heart, each item a reminder of what you were leaving behind. The sound of the door closing behind you was final, a punctuation mark on the chapter of your life you had so desperately wanted to salvage. You returned to your old apartment, a place that felt foreign now, and sank into the isolation, leaving behind the life you had fought so hard to build.

Two months passed. Your world had crumbled into ash, leaving nothing but grief and emptiness in its wake. You were consumed by the pain. It was relentless, wrapping around you like a vice. The loss of your baby haunted you, the loneliness gnawed at your spirit, and the anger - anger at Bucky, at yourself, at the universe - was a constant, bitter companion.

At first, you tried to function, clinging to the routines that once brought you joy. But the weight of it all was too much. You quit your job. The sight of children, their laughter, their innocence, was unbearable. You shut out your friends - what few you had left. Their well-meaning concern felt like judgment. You wanted to scream, to tell them they didn’t understand.

And so, you spiraled.

The days blurred together, a haze of pain and self-destruction. You started with wine in the evenings, telling yourself it was to help you sleep, but soon the single glass turned into an entire bottle. Then another. It wasn’t long before mornings became indistinguishable from nights, the alcohol flowing steadily to keep the ache at bay.

But it wasn’t enough. The ache remained, clawing at the edges of your mind, refusing to be silenced. So, you turned to pills - prescriptions left over from past injuries, over-the-counter sleep aids, anything you could get your hands on. At first, it was one or two, just enough to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts. But as the days dragged on, you found yourself reaching for more. A handful here, a few more there, until the numbness became the only thing you could feel.

You stopped eating, the thought of food turning your stomach. A cup of coffee, a piece of toast - that was all you could manage, if anything at all. The sharp pangs of hunger became just another sensation to push down with pills and alcohol. Your body grew weaker, but you didn’t care.

Sleep was elusive, coming in fitful bursts if it came at all. More often, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, your mind racing through memories of what you’d lost. You couldn’t stop replaying the moment in the hospital, the sterile room, the doctor’s solemn expression. It haunted you.

When you caught glimpses of yourself in the mirror, you barely recognized the person staring back. Your once vibrant skin was pale and sallow, your cheeks sunken, your eyes hollow. Your hair hung in limp, unwashed strands around your face. Clothes that once fit snugly now hung loose on your frame, a stark reminder of how much weight you’d lost.

But none of it mattered. You didn’t care. Each time you looked at yourself, all you could see was failure - failure as a partner, as a mother, as a human being. The thought whispered to you like a cruel taunt, feeding your belief that this was your punishment, your penance for losing the baby, for being too weak to hold everything together.

The cycle continued, day after day. You stopped checking the calendar, stopped answering your phone. The world outside faded, replaced by the dim, oppressive cocoon of your apartment. Empty bottles and pill packets littered the counters and floor. Curtains stayed drawn, keeping out the daylight.

Each day, you sank further into the void, certain there was no way out. You weren’t living - you were merely existing, drowning in the belief that this was all you deserved.

Bucky returned two months later, his body weary but his mind sharp with anticipation. The mission had been relentless, every moment filled with danger, leaving no room for distractions. He hadn’t had access to his phone or any way to contact you. But the moment he landed, the mission finally over, he powered on his phone.

The screen lit up with a flood of missed calls, dozens upon dozens of unread messages from you. Panic gripped him like a vice. His heart pounded as he scrolled through the notifications, unable to focus on any one message. The timestamps told a story of desperation - calls in the dead of night, texts sent minutes apart, some marked with “URGENT” in all caps.

He didn’t have the strength to read through them. The fear twisting in his chest made it impossible. Instead, he called you immediately, his fingers trembling as he punched in your number.

“Come on”, he muttered, pressing the phone to his ear. The line rang once, twice, before a cold, automated voice told him the number was no longer in service.

“No. No, no, no”. He tried again, and again, each time greeted by the same response. His breathing quickened, panic rising like a tide.

“Come on, Y/N”, he pleaded under his breath, redialing in disbelief. Each failed attempt left him more frantic. What had happened? Why wasn’t your phone working?

By the time he reached the apartment, his heart was racing, his thoughts spiraling into worst-case scenarios. He fumbled with his keys, cursing under his breath as his shaking hands made it difficult to unlock the door. Finally, he shoved it open and stepped inside.

The silence hit him like a physical blow. The air was stale, carrying a faint, sour odor that hinted at how long the space had been untouched. His boots scuffed against the dusty hardwood floor as he stepped further inside, his voice cracking as he called out, “Y/N? Are you here?”

There was no response.

His eyes darted around the living room. The furniture was coated in a thin layer of dust. A coffee cup sat abandoned on the table, its contents dried to a brown stain. A blanket lay crumpled on the couch, as if you’d tossed it aside and never come back for it.

“Y/N?” he called again, louder this time. His voice echoed eerily in the empty space.

The kitchen was next. The sink was filled with dirty dishes, the counters cluttered with empty bottles and pill packets. His chest tightened as he took it all in. Something was wrong - terribly, horribly wrong.

He moved toward the bedroom, each step heavier than the last. When he pushed the door open, his breath caught in his throat. The sight before him was chaos: clothes strewn across the floor, the bed unmade, sheets tangled and stained. A broken lamp lay on the ground, its shattered pieces scattered across the carpet. A drawer from the dresser had been yanked out and left hanging, its contents spilling onto the floor.

“Jesus”, he whispered, his voice barely audible. He stepped inside, his heart pounding. “Y/N?” His voice cracked, a mix of fear and desperation.

He reached for his phone, his hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped it. He dialed Steve, his voice tight with panic as soon as the call connected. “Steve, it’s Bucky. I can’t find her. She’s not here. The apartment - it’s a mess. I don’t know where she is.”

Steve’s voice was calm but urgent on the other end. “Breathe, Buck. We’ll figure this out. Did you check her old place? Friends? Family?”

“No”, Bucky said, his words tumbling over each other. “I don’t even know where to start. Her phone’s disconnected. There’s dust everywhere. Steve, it looks like she’s been gone for weeks.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room.

“We’ll find her”, Steve reassured him. “Just stay calm. Start with any clues you can find. We’ll get through this.”

Bucky ended the call and looked around the room again, forcing himself to focus. His sharp mind, trained for tracking and reconnaissance, kicked in. He scanned for anything that might lead him to you - a note, an address, anything. His gaze fell on an envelope half-hidden under a pile of clothes. He snatched it up and found a crumpled bill for a hospital visit, dated weeks ago.

A sick feeling churned in his stomach as he read the address. “What the hell happened to you, doll?” he muttered under his breath, clutching the paper tightly. Without wasting another second, he bolted out of the apartment, the hospital record clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

Desperation drove him like a storm, relentless and consuming. Bucky worked through the night, poring over every lead, scouring every clue. He dug through old letters, hospital records, even your discarded social media accounts - anything that might point him to where you’d gone.

It was the hospital record that led him to your old address. A part of him hesitated when he saw the crumpled paper in his hands. Was this really where you would go? Why hadn’t you called anyone else? Guilt gnawed at him with every thought, but there was no time to dwell on it. He had to find you.

When he finally stood outside your apartment door, his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. What if he was too late? What if something had happened to you? His knuckles rapped against the door, each second of silence dragging like an eternity.

“Please”, he whispered under his breath, his hand tightening into a fist. He knocked again, louder this time.

The sound of shuffling from the other side made his breath hitch. The door creaked open a moment later, and his heart stopped.

You stood there, a shadow of the person he remembered. Your hair was unkempt, matted in places, and your skin was pale and sallow. Dark circles hung under your eyes, which were red-rimmed and hollow. Your frame was gaunt, your clothes hanging loosely on your body as if they belonged to someone else.

Bucky froze, unable to form words, his throat tight with emotion. “Doll..” he breathed, the sound barely audible.

You stared at him for a long moment, and then a bitter laugh escaped your lips, sharp and hollow. “Well, look who finally decided to show up.”

The venom in your tone sliced through him. He stepped forward instinctively, but you raised a trembling hand to stop him, leaning heavily against the doorframe for support.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice soft but trembling with worry. His blue eyes darted over you, taking in every detail - the gauntness of your face, the trembling in your hands, the faint smell of alcohol that clung to you. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

Your laugh turned bitterer, harsher. “What’s going on? You’re asking me that?” You shook your head, your voice breaking. “You happened, Bucky. You left, and everything fell apart. Everything.”

“I didn’t know -” he started, his voice heavy with guilt, but you cut him off.

“Of course, you didn’t” you snapped, stepping back into the dimly lit apartment. “You were too busy saving the world to notice that your own world was crumbling.”

He stepped inside cautiously, his heart shattering as he took in the mess. Empty bottles of alcohol and pill packets were scattered on the coffee table and floor. The air was thick with the stench of neglect, a sour mix of spilled liquor and stale air. The curtains were drawn tightly, plunging the room into shadows despite the afternoon sun.

“Y/N..” His voice trailed off, his throat tightening as he stared at the devastation around him.

“Don’t say my name like that” you muttered, retreating further into the room. “Like you’re surprised. Like you didn’t cause this.”

“Cause this?” he repeated, stepping closer. His voice cracked, his words pleading. “Y/N, I didn’t know. If I’d known, I never -”

“But you didn’t!” you screamed, your voice cracking under the weight of your pain as you spun to face him. Your eyes, hollow yet blazing with anger, locked onto his, and Bucky swore he felt his heart shatter in his chest. “You weren’t here, Bucky. I called. I texted. Over and over, I begged you to come back. Do you know how many times I sat in this apartment, staring at my phone, praying for some sign that you were still out there? And where were you? Fighting someone else’s battles while my entire life was falling apart.”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and Bucky flinched like you’d struck him. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. The look on your face - the raw betrayal, the fury - left him at a loss.

“I didn’t know” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I -”

“You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know” you spat, taking a step closer, your hands trembling at your sides. “You shut me out, Bucky. You didn’t care enough to see what was happening to me.”

“That’s not true” he said, his voice cracking as he tried to bridge the chasm between you. “I cared - I care! I thought I was doing what was right -”

“Right for who?” you interrupted, your voice venomous. “For you? For the Avengers? Because it sure as hell wasn’t right for me. Do you know what it’s like to wake up every day, and wonder if today is the day I’ll finally get that call, informing me that you're dead? To feel like you’re carrying the weight of everything, completely alone, while the person who promised to love you is nowhere to be found?”

Bucky’s face twisted in anguish, his blue eyes shining with unshed tears. “I didn’t know it was this bad” he murmured, his voice trembling. “If I’d known -”

“But you didn’t” you cut him off, your voice laced with bitterness. “You didn’t, because you weren’t here.”

He stepped toward you, his hands outstretched in a desperate plea. “Y/N, I’m here now. Please, let me -”

“Let you what?” you demanded, your voice rising as months of pent-up anger and heartbreak poured out of you. “Fix it? Make it better? You can’t, Bucky. You can’t just show up now, after everything, and expect me to be okay.”

“Please”, he whispered, his voice breaking. “Just tell me what happened. Let me understand.”

You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and hollow. “You want to understand? You think you can fix this if I just lay it all out for you?”

His eyes searched yours, his expression raw and desperate. “I need to know” he said, his voice trembling. “I can’t lose you. Please, Y/N.”

You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together. Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. He noticed your shallow breathing, the way your shoulders quaked.

“I lost everything” you finally said, your voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Piece by piece, it all fell apart.”

Bucky’s chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you walked to the table, picking up an empty pill bottle and turning it over in your hand. “Do you know what it’s like to sit in the dark, wondering if you should just swallow one more and end it? Do you have any idea what it feels like to look at yourself in the mirror and hate the person staring back?”

He took a shaky step forward. “Y/N, don’t -”

“Don’t what?” you snapped, slamming the bottle down. “Don’t tell you the truth? You want to waltz back in here and play the hero, but you don’t even know the damage you left behind.”

His eyes flicked around the room, taking in the empty bottles, the crumpled blankets on the couch, the shattered picture frame on the floor. “I know I’ve hurt you” he said, his voice barely audible. “But I’m here now. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

You laughed again, but this time it turned into a sob. “You don’t get it” you said, shaking your head. “It’s not just me. It was never just me.”

He froze, his stomach twisting. “What are you saying?”

You turned to face him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “There was a baby, Bucky” you said, your voice trembling. “Our baby. And I lost it. I woke up in the middle of the night in pain, and there was blood - so much blood. I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified, and I was alone. You weren’t there.”

The words hit him like a freight train, and his knees buckled. He sank to the floor, his head in his hands as he tried to process what you’d just said. “Oh, God” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Oh, God, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You stared at him, your chest heaving with sobs. “I needed you” you said, your voice cracking. “I needed you more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and you weren’t there.”

He looked up at you, his face streaked with tears, his expression raw and broken. “I failed you” he choked out. “I failed you and our baby. But please, Y/N, don’t shut me out. Let me stay. Let me try to make this right.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “You can’t make it right. You can’t bring the baby back. You can’t take away this pain.”

“No, I can’t” he said, his voice steady despite the tears. “But I can stay. I can be here for you, for us, if you’ll let me. I know I don’t deserve it, but please, Y/N. Don’t push me away.”

For a long moment, you stared at him, the war inside you raging. Finally, you sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t know if I can do this”. you whispered.

He moved to sit beside you, his hand hovering over yours before gently taking it. “You don’t have to do it alone” he said softly. “Not anymore.”

And for the first time in months, you felt the faintest flicker of hope, a fragile ember in the darkness that had consumed you. It wasn’t an all-encompassing warmth or an instant relief, it was a hesitant, wavering thing, as if it might vanish at the slightest gust of doubt. But it was there. And after everything, even that small spark felt monumental.

You glanced down at his hand, rough and calloused yet so gentle as it cradled yours. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin, a quiet reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere. For so long, you’d felt untethered, drifting through a sea of pain and loss with no anchor, but now - sitting beside him, his presence steady and unwavering - you felt a faint sense of grounding.

“It’s going to take time” you whispered, your voice shaky but honest. “I don’t know if I can just.. move on. Some days, I don’t even know how to keep going.”

“You don’t have to do it all at once” he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion that thickened it. “We’ll take it one day at a time. One step at a time. Together.”

The word together hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You searched his face, half-expecting to see doubt or hesitation, but his gaze was steady, unwavering. He meant it. He truly meant it.

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t purely born of sorrow. They were a mixture of grief and something softer, something tentative that you hadn’t dared to feel in months - trust. “I’m scared, Bucky”. you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“So am I” he confessed, his voice breaking just slightly. “I’m scared I’ll mess up again. Scared I won’t be enough to help you heal. But I promise you, doll, I’ll do everything I can. I’ll be here - no matter what.”

You nodded, letting his words sink in. They didn’t erase the pain or magically mend the wounds you carried, but they planted a seed of possibility. Maybe healing wasn’t about forgetting the hurt or pretending it didn’t exist. Maybe it was about facing it head-on, step by step, with someone by your side.

As you sat there, his presence anchoring you, the silence stretched but didn’t feel oppressive. It felt shared, almost comforting. His fingers tightened around yours slightly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel entirely alone.

The road ahead would be long and painful, filled with memories that would resurface and wounds that might never fully close. But for now, you let yourself lean into the moment, into him, and the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way forward together. Not whole, not without scars, but together. And for now, that was enough.

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livi008 · 17 days ago

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(mood board by me)

Under the mistletoe

Pairing: shy Bucky Barnes x oblivious reader

Category: fluff; holiday season romance

Word count: around 9k

Warnings: none

a/n: merry Christmas my darlings! And happy Hanukkah (only to my non-zionist baddies). So, this is my first published fan fiction so any constructive criticism or tips would be greatly appreciated. Also, just so I can be completely transparent: this is an original thought. I’ve been working on this for months and I was waiting to release it on Christmas. Any similarities to any other creations in this app is completely unintentional by my part and if needed, I will credit the writers below. Anyways, that’s all! I home you enjoy! Happy reading cuties! 🎄❄️🥂🤍

Edit: so sorry, I forgot to tag where I got the divider, here it is

(here is a cozy song if u like reading with music ;) )

The compound’s kitchen smelled like Christmas — warm spices, melted chocolate, and the unmistakable aroma of cookies fresh out of the oven. You slid a tray onto the counter, the cookies golden and steaming as you transferred them carefully to a themed bowl.

Behind you, a heavy tread signaled a well known soldier entering the kitchen.. You turned around just in time to catch Bucky Barnes reaching for one of the still-hot cookies..

‘’Hey! No, James!” you scolded, swatting his hand away with a dish towel. “First of all, they’re still hot— you’ll burn yourself. And second, these are for the. *whole* team. You need to learn to share.”

Bucky froze mid-reach, your words sending an unexpected flutter through his chest. James. No one called him that anymore— not since the forties. But coming from you, it didn’t feel odd. It felt…. Grounding. Comforting.

“Fine,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re the boss, doll.”

Satisfied, you turned back to the counter, preparing the next batch, missing the way Bucky lingered, his gaze softening as he watched you work. When the cookies had cooled enough, you grabbed one and handed it to him.

“Here, now you can try one. Carefully.”

Bucky took a cautious bite, his brows lifting in surprise. “These are… really good..” He chewed thoughtfully before adding, ‘Haven’t had these since… well, before.”

You grinned, leaning against the counter. “Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we? I’ll start making you more baked goods.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh, the corners of his ears turning a slight shade of pink. “That just sounds like you’re trying to make me fat..”

“And you can afford it,” you quipped back, your teasing grin making his heart skip a beat.

The moment lingers, Bucky still caught in the warmth of your smile, but the spell is broken by Sam’s voice booms from the hallway. “Hey! If those cookies are gone by the time they get here, Im coming for both of you!”

You laugh, grabbing the bowl and heading for the door. “Cmon, James, let’s share these before Sam stages a full-on revolt.”

Bucky trails behind you, his steps slow, his gaze lingering on the back of your head as the scent of cookies— and you— fills the air. But as the two of you reach the doorway, you both move to pass through at the same time—and collide.

‘’Oh!” You exclaim, nearly loosing your balance, but Bucky steadies you with a hand at your waist. The contact sends heat rushing to his face, but before you can even process it, you glance up.

“Would you look at that,” you say with a grin, pointing upward. A sprig of mistletoe hangs above the doorway. Completely oblivious to Bucky’s internal spiral, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, James!” you chirp, the twinkle in your eyes as bright as the lights strung through the compound. Then, just like that, you slip past him, disappearing down the hall.

Bucky remains frozen in place, the spot where your lips touched burning like a brand.

His thoughts where a whirlwind as he stood rooted at the doorway. The warmth of your kiss lingered on his cheek, making him feel more alive than he had in decades. His hand instinctively brushed the spot, as if to capture the fleeting moment forever.

But before he could linger too long, a familiar voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“Yo, Barnes! You coming, or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’ve seen a ghost?” Sam’s teasing tone echoed from the common area.

Bucky blinked, forcing himself to move. Yeah, yeah.. Im coming.” He muttered, his voice low, though the tint creeping up his neck betrayed him..

As he finally follows you into the living room, the chaos of decorating being at full swing brins him back to reality.

The common room had been transformed into a holiday haven. Twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands framed the window, and the faint sound of Sam’s playlist of outdated Christmas hits played on repeat from a speaker in the corner. The team scattered around, each person taking charge of a different task.

Thor wrestled with stringing lights onto the tree— though ‘’wrestled” was a good understatement, as the god of thunder had somehow managed to tangle himself in the wires. Steve was carefully hanging stockings on the fireplace mantel with Tony, while Sam was perched on a stepladder, complaining about having to adjust the same strand of lights for the third time.

You arrived with the cookies just as Natasha was helping Clint untangle a knot of ribbon. The smell of fresh baked goods immediately caught everyone’s attention.

“Alright troops! Cookie break!” you announced, setting the bowl of cookies on the coffee table.

The team descended like vultures, but not before you swatted Sam’s hand with a mock-stern glare. “Save some for the others, Wilson.”

Across the room, Bucky hovered near the Christmas tree, his hands busy themselves with a silver ornament he’d already adjusted three times. But his focus wasn’t on the decorations— it was on you. From the way you moved to the sound of your laugh, you were a force of warmth and light in the room, and Bucky found himself completely captivated.

‘’Y’know, Barnes,” Natasha’s voice slid into his thoughts like a needle popping a bubble, low enough for only him to hear, “if you keep staring like that, your face will be brighter than the tree.”

Bucky’s hand faltered, the silver ornament he was holding almost slipping from his fingers. “I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, his voice gruff, though the flush that creeping up his neck told a different story.

Natasha smirked, her gaze flicking from him to you. “Right. And the way your cheeks match that Santa hat dangling ogg Thor’s hammer is just a coincidence.”

Bucky sighed, letting his forehead rest briefly against the tree’s branches. Natasha’s teasing felt relentless, but she wasn’t wrong. The mistletoe incident earlier had been a turning point, and now, every time he looked at you, his heart ached in the best way possible.

“Just tell her,” Natasha added, her tone softening. “You’re gonna regret it if you don’t”

After the cookie break, everyone does back to decorating. You move closer to Bucky, handing him a box of ornaments to hang on the tree.

“Here, James. Since you’re already an expert ornament fixer.” you tease, your grin making his ears turn pink again.

“I wasn’t… fixing it,” he mumbles, but you laugh lightly brushing past him to hang a strand of tinsel.

Natasha watches the two of you with a knowing smile, nudging Sam. “Fifty bucks says he makes a move before the night’s over.”

“Not a chance,” Sam replies, crossing his arms.

The teams chatter fills the room, but Bucky is barely aware of it. His focus remains on you, your laugh, the way you effortlessly light up the room.

As the last ornaments were hung and tinsel draped, the team began to scatter— Thor and Clint collapsing onto the couch with mugs of cocoa, Sam and Tony arguing over who had the worse Santa suit from last year, and Natasha… well, Natasha didn’t scatter. She stayed rooted across the room, shooting Bucky knowing glances that only made hi, feel more cornered.

Bucky sighed, his fingers brushing the edge of a stray ornament. His mind was made up before he even realized it.. Nat was right. If he didn’t say something tonight, he knew he’d regret it. His gaze landed on you again, now humming quietly as you gathered your things in the kitchen.

He steeled himself. Now or never.

You’re mindlessly humming to one of Sam’s catchy Christmas classics when you feel hands gently settle around your waist. Before you can react, you’re spun around, and the world blurs for just a moment before James Buchanan Barnes is standing in front of you, his gaze intense yet tender.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s sweet and warm, sending a thrill through your chest.

When he pulls away, his smirk is soft yet mischievous. “Merry Christmas, doll,’’ he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though his eyes betray just how much this moment means to him. Then, without waiting for a response, he strides down the hall, leaving you breathless and flushed, completely dazed by surprise and excitement from what the new year might bring for yours and Bucky’s relationship.

Bonus: as Bucky walks off, he takes confident steps and doesn’t look back. But as soon as he turns a corner, his confident steps falter, as he stops, resting a hand against the wall as he takes deep breaths. HIs heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest. He runs a hand through his hair, his lips still tingling from yours, when a familiar voice snaps him out of his daze.

“Told you they would get together.” Natasha drawls, step out of the shadows with a victorious smirk.

Sam groans, pulling out a fifty-dollar bill and slapping it into her hand. “Man, couldn’t keep it in your pants till the party ended, could you Bucky?”

Steve chuckles softly, shaking his head as he watches his best friend fumble with his flustered grin. “It was bound to happen eventually,” he says, his tone laced with affection.

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alliceolivia · 4 months ago

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You are safe (Bucky)

pov Y/n

My sleep was shattered by the sharp sound of breaking glass. My heart immediately began to pound, hammering against my rib cage like a percussion instrument. The sound of footsteps echoed through my apartment, confirmation of my worst fear - they were here. A wave of panic washed over me, and I found myself scrambling from the bed and taking refuge under it. I knew it wasn't the best hiding spot, but fear and panic had hijacked my rational thinking. The footsteps grew closer, each step echoing like a death knell. I held my breath, tears trickling down my face, my hand clamped over my mouth to suppress any inadvertent sounds.

pov Bucky

Awakening at 2.30 am, I found sleep elusive. A glass of water might help, I thought. As I reached for a glass in the kitchen, it slipped from my grasp and shattered on the floor. After cleaning up the mess, I returned to the bedroom, only to find it empty. A strange sound led me to bend down and look under the bed. The sight that greeted me was heart-wrenching - y/n was under the bed, her face tear-streaked and body shaking with fear. Moving to join her under the bed, I tried to reassure her.

"Hey, y/n, open your eyes," I whispered.

"No, shh! They'll hear you," she murmured in response.

"Who?" I asked, puzzled.

"They're here. They broke in. I heard it," she replied, her voice trembling.

I realized then that she was having a panic attack, convinced that her past had come back to haunt her. I took her face in my hands, trying to calm her down.

"Y/n, listen to me. There's no one here to hurt you. You're safe," I told her.

"But Bucky, the window," she protested.

"That was me, I broke a glass. Look at me, it was only me. There's no one else here. You're safe. Can you say it for me? You're safe," I implored.

Y/n took a deep breath and, touching my hands that cradled her face, whispered, "I am safe."

"Good, one more time," I encouraged her.

"I am safe," she repeated, her voice steadier.

With another deep breath, she touched my cheek and looked at me. "I am safe," she declared, finally grounded in reality.

#x yn #oneshots #bucky barnes #reader insert #bucky x reader #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #short story

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siennafrxst · 2 years ago

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↳ busted 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader (ft. sam)

cw: slightly mature scene? (therefore cringe I am already warning you read at your own risk)

word count: 0.4k words

"Y/N, doll—as much as I love this, Sam can walk in on us anytime," Bucky mumbles cautiously in between the kisses.

The two were currently 3 weeks into their relationship and the couple was currently on a chair, having a make-out session with Y/N seated on him.

"Don't worry, I locked the door," she simply replies before leaning in to kiss him once more.

He hesitated to accept her kisses at first but soon melted into them and kissed her back. This went on for a couple of minutes before Bucky began to nibble on her lower lip, causing her to gasp in shock. This gave him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue and explore every place in her mouth. Y/N continues to moan softly into the kisses, which were only getting more intense. He began to slowly lift up her shirt when the door starts to creak open.

(even I have no idea what I just wrote by the way.)

Out of utter panic, Y/N pulls away and breaks the kiss, almost falling off the chair if it weren't for Bucky grabbing her by the waist. The couple turn towards the disturbance, only to spot the person who they had been dreading to see.

"Holy shit! You two?"

In that moment, Y/N instantly stood up from the chair and fixed herself up.

Bucky—who was still seated on the chair seemingly unbothered—rolls his eyes at Sam's amused expressions, letting out a heavy sigh. "Didn't your parents teach you how to knock?"

"Not for situations like these, no," he comments snarkily, the wide smile slowly forming into a sly smirk.

"Leave before I absolutely kick the shit out of you," Y/N grumbles, giving him a cold glare.

Sam chuckles at her unbelieveable threat. "You're not actually going to do that."

Y/N raises an eyebrow at him as she slowly steps closer towards him. "Do you wanna bet on that?" she questions menacingly.

Sam glares at her cautiously before giving in. "Okay okay, I'll leave you two alone. Go get some."

Bucky immediately stood up from the chair to run straight for Sam when Y/N blocks his path. Sam slightly flinches at the sudden movement and hastily closes the door behind him, mumbling a soft 'jeez' on the way out.

That was when Bucky and Y/N were left alone once more in the awkward silence.

"I locked the door, my ass."

"Oh shut up."

edit: this is literally my worst written (imo) published fanfic and yet this one got the most likes… y’all are down bad.

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kat-writes · 6 months ago

Link

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Captain America - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - Relationship Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, George Barnes (Marvel), Peter Parker, Tony Stark Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cottagecore, post-WW1, Post-Divorce, Getting Together, Alternate Universe - Omegaverse, Omegaverse, Omega Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Peter Parker, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hanyman Bucky Barnes, Teen Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Divorcee Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark Summary:

After he and Tony divorce, Steve moves to the countryside where he lives in a cottage. Their pup, Peter, visits during the summer. Leading up to this summer, Steve's leaking roof needs attention from the local handymen, and Mr. Barnes' son, James, is back home for the first time since Steve moved to the countryside. He sees to Steve's broken roof, and a few of his other broken parts.

#short story #from ao3 #fanfiction #steverogers #buckybarnes #peterparker #tonystark #stevebucky #stucky #pre serum steve #omegaverse #omega steve rogers #alpha bucky barnes #alpha peter parker #alpha tony stark #george barnes

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thedarkcknight · 21 days ago

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Day 20 Christmas with the Winter Soldier (Bucky Barnes)

Y/N'S POV

It was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out, quick and clean. But nothing ever goes as planned, does it?

I had been on the run for days, hiding in the shadows, desperate to escape the people after me. The cold air bit at my skin as I darted down narrow alleyways, my heart pounding with fear. My mind kept repeating the same mantra: stay hidden, stay quiet. But it was getting harder to do both. The men who hunted me weren’t stupid, and no matter how many tricks I pulled, they were always one step ahead.

I was cornered in an old, run-down building when I heard the sound of footsteps. My pulse raced as I crouched low behind a stack of crates, praying I wouldn't be seen. But the footsteps stopped. A cold, calculated voice spoke from the darkness.

“You lost, sweetheart?”

I froze, not daring to breathe. There was something in the air, something off about this person. The voice didn’t belong to anyone I knew, but somehow, I felt like I should know it.

Before I could think to move, the sound of gunfire echoed in the space. The men chasing me dropped like flies, and I could barely register what was happening. Then, the figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a fluidity that screamed lethal. He didn’t look like a hero or a villain; just a man in a tactical suit, his face hidden behind a mask.

His eyes, though... I could see them through the slits of his mask. They were cold, but there was something else there too—something I couldn’t quite place. Before I could speak, he reached out a gloved hand to me.

“Are you okay?”

I stared at his hand for a moment, then looked into his eyes, my breath caught in my chest. Despite the chill, despite the chaos around us, I felt safe for the first time in days. I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet with ease, guiding me out of the building.

Without a word, we moved through the streets, quickly and quietly. There was no small talk, no attempt to reassure me. Just a silent urgency as we moved, weaving in and out of alleyways and hidden paths until we reached what I could only describe as a hidden sanctuary.

The moment we stepped inside, he removed his mask, and I could finally see his face—Bucky Barnes. The name echoed in my mind, and the puzzle pieces started to fall into place. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Steve Rogers’ friend.

But even with the name, I couldn’t place him. Not the way Steve described him—someone who was loyal, strong, and above all, human, despite everything that had been done to him. This man, with his eyes full of secrets, seemed like the complete opposite of that.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” Bucky’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I shook my head. “No… Not anymore.”

He nodded slowly, as if he'd expected that answer. “Alright, you can stay here. For now. But we have to keep quiet. I don’t know who’s after you, but I know they’ll be looking for you.”

I agreed without hesitation, knowing I had no other choice. Over the next few days, Bucky and I settled into an uneasy routine. I was mostly quiet, trying to stay out of his way. I knew the stories about him—the Winter Soldier, the man who had done terrible things under Hydra's control. Yet, here he was, offering me safety, a place to hide.

And then, Christmas Eve came.

The house was small but cozy, decorated with simple lights and a tree in the corner. It wasn’t grand, but there was something warm about it. I’d never really celebrated Christmas before, but being here, with Bucky, felt different. He hadn’t said much about himself, but every now and then, I caught him looking out the window with a faraway look, as if lost in thought.

That night, as the snow gently fell outside, I was sitting by the fire, Bucky a few feet away, sipping from a mug.

"Can I... can I take off your mask?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a sigh, he set his mug down on the coffee table and reached up, slowly peeling the mask away from his face.

I blinked in surprise. Bucky Barnes... or at least, the man I thought was Bucky Barnes… wasn’t the face I saw before me. I gasped.

“You’re...” My voice trailed off as I stared at him, recognition dawning.

He offered a small, almost rueful smile. “Yeah. Steve probably told you about me.”

I nodded, still in shock. “He always spoke highly of you. Always said you were a good man, even when you didn’t think so.”

Bucky’s eyes softened, and he looked away for a moment, a silent sadness settling over him. “I’m still trying to be that man. But it's not always easy.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just sat there, absorbing the weight of everything.

"Christmas is a time for second chances," I finally said, my voice quiet but firm. "Maybe you can start again."

Bucky looked at me, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked... hopeful. The Winter Soldier wasn’t just a soldier anymore. And maybe, neither was I.

We spent the rest of the evening quietly, just the two of us. As the clock struck midnight, we exchanged the smallest of smiles. It wasn’t a perfect Christmas. But it was a new beginning.

And that, I realized, was all either of us really needed.

#short story #christmas #bucky barnes #marvel #winter soldier

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zoesshortstories · 8 days ago

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Masterlist:

Welcome!! I'm Zoe, 19, and I love to write! I've recently gotten into Paige Bueckers and wbb, but I've also written fics for Marvel, Criminal Minds, and Brooklyn 99. I also have quite a few stories that aren't fanfics but that I love to write and want to share. My pronouns are she/her and I'm also a taurus and full-time college student!

Requests: Open :)

Let's be friends and mutuals! My vibes:

Smut: * (18+ only!)

Paige Bueckers

Fancy Pants series (Paige Bueckers x actress!fem!oc Ava Radmall)

Chapter 1: the party

(Coming soon)

Chapter 2: the holidays

Chapter 3: the game

Chapter 4: the beach

Marvel

All's fair (part one) -- Natasha Romanoff x water bender!fem!reader, 2.0k words

Fiction series

The Best Game (fem!oc x fem!oc) two soccer stars have always butted heads, and typically something else too. What happens as they reunite for the USWNT and Paris 2024 Olympics?

Chapter 1: Jan Camp

Chapter 2: May Camp *

Standalone stories:

Special Ghost, a first Halloween; 1.5k

Safety First, a sad familial love story; 1.0k

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comfort-person · 2 years ago

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Forever and always

Synopsis: a nightmare triggers Bucky’s past and the reader has to somehow calm him down from attacking her.

The room was dark, Bucky’s hands were tied down by metal cuffs his whole body restrained as a man stood in front of him “soldier. It didn’t have to be like this.” The man spoke, he wore a long white lab coat. He was a man Bucky didn’t recognise one bit and that was unusual for him, Bucky could remember everyone. “You brought this upon yourself. Okay, bring her in.” As the man moved to the side Bucky watched as you were dragged in- hair a complete mess but that was no comparison to how much fear was in your eyes. He let out a shaky breath his fingers clenching as he grasped at anything he could. He wanted to say something tell them to stop and not to lay a finger on you but the mouth guard in his mouth refrained him from speaking up. “As soon as I say the words in order you will obey me, you will kill her.” The man spoke eyes cold as he stared at Bucky. He shook his head rapidly trying to stop him from speaking trying to get you the hell out of there:

“Longing,”

“Rusted”

“Furnace”

“Daybreak” Bucky’s breathing was uneven his eyes widening his jaw clenched tightly as grunts of pain and resistance left his lips. These assholes had no mercy did they? “Stop it you’re hurting him!” Your voice echoed around the room being the only thing he could truly grasp onto as the last thing to stop him from turning into the monster within “seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming, one…” an agonised cry fell from Bucky’s mouth his eyes full of rage as he struggled in his restraints as he began falling into this character these… monsters… had created. The puppet they had moulded into a good listener. An obedient cruel heartless monster. “Freight car” and as he spoke that was the last thing the winter soldier needed to hear, Bucky escaping from his restraints as he stood up his stature strong and confident as he looked at you as if you were a piece of meat and he was a predator awaiting to pounce “Bucky…” you whispered fearfully. “Kill her.” The man demanded and you watched in silent horror as Bucky charged at you in an inhumanly speed…

“Bucky!”

Bucky gasped awake sitting up sweat covering his entire body, little droplets of sweat trailing down his forehead as he panted hands resting on the material of the bed as he struggled to comprehend what was going on, “Bucky hey… hey…” your arms immediately wrapped around him but he pushed you away with a force he didn’t even realise as you tumbled off of the edge of the bed but managed to get your balance, “no no… n-no… I can’t. Don’t touch me… I don’t want to kill you.” He shook his head not even looking at you fearing that if he did he would kill you. Your heart sank as you gazed at him worriedly “you won’t b-“ “YES I will… he will… I..” he couldn’t even finish his sentence visibly out of breath as he closed his eyes tight trying to open his lungs more, his dog tags skimmed against his skin slightly clattering against each other with every breath he took his metal hand clenching over and over again as he tried to calm down. “Did you have a nightmare again?” You asked cautiously but he didn’t reply to you and you carefully moved to his side as you slowly reached out attempting to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, you had often dealt with Bucky when he was like this but not to this extent. This was something Steve was more able to handle.

As your hand rested upon his shoulder he flinched and in one quick movement his large metal hand clasped around your wrist keeping a tight grip on it as he looked into your eyes, you could see the fear and torment. The grip was so tight that it hurt but you remained calm “Buck… it’s me.” You rubbed your free hand up and down his back slowly and gently not saying anything for a while, he clearly didn’t know what was going on and he wasn’t going to hurt you.. he was just trying to get a hold of himself. Realise that he indeed was still in control. “It’s me… y/n… it’s me… look at me.” You spoke softly and as he stared at you realisation soon clicked as he realised he had full control over himself a shaky breath leaving his lips as the grip on you loosened before he sat up bowing his head his hands resting against his head as he tried to calm his breathing down his body trembling and you carefully moved your hand to rest on his back as you began soothing against his skin, neither of you had to say a word to realise how much he was going through right now. He just needed you and you’d be right there for him. His body soon weakened against yours as he leaned into you allowing your touch to sooth him completely your lips soon pressing soothing kisses against his forehead, your fingertips smoothing some of his hair off of his forehead as you gazed into his eyes

“It’s okay Bucky… I promise you.” You assured with a comforting smile and he nodded, the tears in his eyes were visible but he tried his hardest to be strong. You both stayed silent as you simply held him, helping him calm down slowly but surely his breathing soon calming down as his eyes fluttered shut a soft shaky breath leaving his lips before he rolled onto his side his arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close “don’t wanna hurt you.” He whispered against your skin and you lightly shook your head, fingers threading through his hair “you won’t. I promise.” You said softly, noticing the frown on his face “how do you know that I won’t hurt you?” He asked softly concern evident in his voice and you exhaled softly “because I know you wont.” You simply said and he nodded his head, he was plagued with nightmares and memories of killing all those innocent people… he couldn’t catch a break… they haunted his dreams… the screams they let out. Gods was it traumatising. His blue eyes began to darken the more he thought about it and you knew what that meant, you had spent long enough with him to realise that it meant bad and so you gently rubbed your thumb against his cheek leaning in so you could press a kiss to his lips the kiss immediately snapping him out of it “don’t think bad thoughts…” “but I hurt them y/n.” He whispered and you shook your head “he hurt them. You didn’t do anything. Yes your body was there but your mind wasn’t. You aren’t to blame…. Don’t get into that mindset… I love you… you’re my world… I trust you with my life and soul…. I trust you Bucky.” You said softly watching as he seemingly calmed down completely as he cuddled into your embrace his arms remaining tight around you “they’re just nightmares now I promise… not real life. Okay?” And slowly he nodded burying his face into the crook of your neck and you smiled holding him close to your body “I love you.” He said softly and you tightened your arms around him “I love you too, Buck… forever and always.” Feeling him nod as he settled into your embrace,

“Mm… forever and always.”

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky x you #comfort #nightmare comfort #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel #mcu bucky barnes #sebastian stan #comfort imagine #hail hydra #hydra Bucky #the winter soldier #short story #yn x bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader

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maiyasuniverse · 2 years ago

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I Love You

Bucky X Reader

Angst?Fluff

Summary: You're worried about Bucky.

Bucky and steve had been on a mission for a month, with no contact, sleep, or peace. It felt like you were in hell, not knowing what to expect, no one would talk to you about where and how he was because who really knew, and if they did they wouldn't be able to disclose anything to you.

You found yourself sitting on the couch snuggled up in Bucky's leather jacket, the scent was comforting but didn't calm your nerves or tears. It took about five minutes for you to be full-on sobbing, you had let yourself get attached, you wouldn't admit it but you love him.

The sound of keys fiddling at the door pulled you from your thoughts and out of your seat. Bucky took you to get a gun from Alex's last popup at your place. You sat the gun on your lap after perching yourself on the couch. You were no longer afraid of anything, better yet anyone because you could protect yourself, especially inside your home.

The door opened to reveal an injured Bucky and concerned Steve.

"See, I told you she'd be fine, she was ready to blow our heads off." Steve joked with Buck trying to elicit some kind of reaction.

"Oh, my. Oh, my god, Steve what happened?" You got up from the couch not thinking much about what clothes you were wearing not that you cared at the moment. You helped Steve walk Bucky the rest of the way to the couch, and looked at both of the men. Buck was beaten up pretty bad, you also noted that he hadn't said anything.

"We were cornered, the doctor says he'll be fine. He hasn't said anything to anyone since we've been back. I don't know if he's shocked or if his voice is still gone. All I know was that he wanted me to bring him here. Please, call me if you need help with anything the compound isn't far, any time of the day." You could steves words were sincere, he looked a Bucky with sorrow in his eyes, why, had it been his fault the situation happened? You shook the idea from your head.

Steve had seen himself out of the apartment, and you stood there quietly staring at Bucky. He didn't look back, his face was twisted in pain and you weren't sure what to do.

"Buck, I don't know how to help, I'll do whatever you tell me. I'll even drive all the way to that Mexcian place you like even tho it's across town. I'm so stupid." You began scrambling looking for a pen, for him to write with. You could feel the panic building up throughout your body, your hands shaking, and your breath being heavy.

Bucky's vibranium arm was cold against your skin, it made you slow down.

"Calm down Doll, I'll be fine. Just spend some time with me." You listened to his voice and sat beside him. Holding onto the same hand that pulled you from your attack.

"Wait," you turned to fully look at Bucky. "You're talking?" you couldn't help but laugh and he followed suit.

Your laugh turned into sobs, he held you for a while.

"I thought you died, that's why I was sitting in the dark, crying, in your jacket. Pathetic right."

"You're the first person to ever wait for me, I've never had that. I'm sorry, then steve, I don't know what's been going on with him but he wasn't at his job. We were almost killed, and I could only think about you, I couldn't do that to you. I won't. You're not pathetic, I made a promise to you. I'm never going to die on you. I promise."

"I love you." Your eyes went wide and your hand flew over your mouth.

He just chuckled, "I Love you more Doll."

#bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky imagine #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #love #romance #short story

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braveclementine · 7 months ago

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Warnings: None.

Chapter Note: Even though Y/N will be turning twelve, I wrote her a little mentally younger. Every time there is a son or daughter of Stark, they're always brilliant. So I wanted to make her a little handicapped instead. She is brilliant, but she acts a little younger and is treated a little younger than other kids her age.

Y/N ran home in excitement, backpack still swinging on her back. She waved at the gardener that was digging in the flower beds next to the tower, "Hello Mr. Gates!"

The middle aged man looked up at her and smiled, waving back, "Hello Ms Stark. How was school today?"

"It was great! We're learning about World War II in History, so I'm going to ask Mr. Rogers if he can help me study." Y/N said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "And my birthday is tomorrow and daddy said I could skip school if I wanted to, but I don't think I will. I like school."

"Well that's good." Mr. Gates said, leaning on his shovel. His slightly graying black hair was combed back and his amber eyes twinkled in kindness. "Don't ever drop out kid, school is a gift."

"Of course not mister." Y/N said, getting ready to head back to the Compound.

"How old are you turning?" He asked kindly.

"Twelve!" Y/N said with excitement. "I have to go though, daddy always gets worried if I'm not in by three forty-five."

"Of course. Have a blessed day young lady." Mr. Gates said and then went back to digging. Y/N skipped the rest of the way to the Avengers Compound.

She headed over to her daddy's work area first, F.R.I.D.A.Y. letting her in. "Hi daddy! I'm home."

"Hey ladybug." Tony said, spinning around in his chair. He set aside the Iron Man helmet that he was working on and opened his arms, letting Y/N run into them. He kissed the top of her head. "How as school today?"

"It was great! We learned how to calculate the distance between planets and stars in scence, we're learning about World War II in history, and we've moved onto exponents and fractions in math." Y/N said excitedly. "But I hope we kind've speed up on the planets because our next topic is animals!"

Tony chuckled, "You gonna ask Capsicle about helping you with your history homework?"

"Daddy, it's not nice to call other people names." Y/N said solemnly, as she always did whenever Tony called someone something other than their names.

"It's a fun name." Tony said, kissing the tip of her nose, "Like how I call you ladybug. Or do you not want to be many ladybug anymore?" He feigned a hurt look.

She squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck, "No! I do ! I do!"

Tony laughed, picking her up and carrying her out of his lab. "Okay ladybug. Now run along. Steve and Natasha are upstairs in the kitchen. I'll make sure to eat dinner with you."

"Okay. Bye daddy." Y/N said and ran up the stairs instead of taking the elevator.

"Welcome home Y/N." Natasha said, already putting out the saltine crackers with peanut butter on them, along with a glass of milk on the table as Y/N skipped into the room.

"Hi Auntie Nat. Hi Mr. Rogers." Y/N greeted the two people in the room excitedly, sliding her backpack off the her shoulder and plopping it into the chair next to her. She also saw Loki and grew excited running over to him. "Hi Mr. Loki."

Loki smiled affectionately at her. "Hey little Stark. How was Midgardian little people jail?"

Y/N pouted, which Loki thought was adorable. "It's not jail! It's fun! Jail is for bad people!"

Loki chuckled. "I take it you had a good day?"

"Yes!" She said and then suddenly grew shy and said, "I have to interview someone that I look up to and I was hoping to interview either you or Teddy."

Loki smiled. Bless her little heart, wanting to interview the two people that were hated the most on the planet. "Well, how about you as Bucky, okay? I think he'd like that."

"Yeah, he would." Steve said, smiling over his newspaper.

"Where is Teddy?" Y/N asked, looking around for Bucky. She had started calling him Teddy from a really young age when she'd heard Steve call him 'Bucky Bear'. And he did have some of the best hugs so she called him Teddy, short for 'Teddy bear'.

"Him and Uncle Sam are out on a run." Nat said, tapping the plate, "Now eat your snack and drink your milk before you start on your homework."

Y/N quickly climbed into her seat next to Mr. Rogers and ate her peanut butter crackers and milk. She pulled out her history homework first and asked, "Mr. Rogers, will you help me? It's on World War II."

"Of course pumpkin." Steve said softly, putting his newspaper to the side. The two of them worked on her homework, going through it quickly, before she moved onto math by herself and then science.

She looked up in worry as she pulled out her English assignment, "Teddy isn't back yet."

"He'll be home soon." Nat said with a smile, texting on the phone to Clint who was on a mission with Wanda and Rhodey. "Him and Uncle Sam are bringing pizzas home for dinner."

"Is Dr. Bruce, Uncle Thor, and daddy going to join?" Y/N asked.

"Thor is staying on Asgard tonight." Loki said, looking up from his book. "But he'll be down tomorrow for your birthday. And Uncle Strange is going to show up too!"

Y/N beamed.

"Hey, do you know what you want for your birthday?" Natasha asked. "Your dad keeps saying you'd want a pony."

Y/N giggled. "We can't get a pony! Daddy's being silly. But. . ." She looked up thoughtfully. "A puppy would be fun."

"Yeah?" Nat asked excitedly. She couldn't have her own kids, so Y/N was the closest she could get. And she loved her like her own. Really, they all did, even Loki. "Do you know what kind?"

"Um. . . one that's good with kids." Y/N said matter of factly. "Like a dalmatian. Or. . ."

"A golden retriever?" Steve asked.

Y/N nodded excitedly. "Yeah!"

Steve and Nat shared a secret smile and then Bucky and Sam came in with the pizzas, followed by Bruce, Tony, and Pietro.

"Hey hoghead." Bucky teased, wrapping Y/N up in a huge hug.

"Teddy!" Y/N squealed in excitement. "You're home!"

"Yep." Bucky said, kissing the top of her head, looking over her shoulder at the homework. "What are the weirdo teachers making you do now?"

"They're not weird." Y/N pouted adorably. "And this is an essay. I have to interview someone that I look up to. And I was going to ask you and Loki. Loki said to ask you since he was here first. Can I interview you? Please?"

Bucky was touched that she looked up to him. "Yeah, of course you can Honey bear."

Y/N beamed again.

"But you gotta eat first." Sam said with a grin, putting the pizzas down on the counter. Steve got up to help him with the plates.

"Did you get all of the homework except the essay done?" Tony asked, kissing the side of his daughters head.

She nodded and said, "But I would like Dr. Bruce to look over my science homework please."

"Of course I will." Bruce answered, "And you know that you can just call me Bruce, kiddo."

"I know!" Y/N answered, putting her homework back in her backpack. "But I want to be resp- respectable."

"Here Angel." Sam said, handing her a plate with two pizza slices on it.

"Thank you!"

"So what did you say earlier when I told you Tony wanted to get you a pony?" Nat asked, throwing Tony a teasing smile.

Y/N giggled, lighting up the moods of every person in the room, "He's silly! We don't have room for a pony!"

"Sure we do." Tony protested. "We have plenty of space inside!"

Y/N shook her head and continued to giggle. "Let's get a puppy instead! Or a bunny! Or me and Teddy could get a baby bear!"

"I like that idea!" Bucky perked up and he held out his fist gently so she could bump it as hard as she could.

Steve shook his head in amusement.

They finished dinner quickly. Bucky, Sam, and Y/N ran around the living room, chasing each other with pillows while Bruce looked over Y/N's science homework and the others chatted casually.

Y/N squealed as Bucky picked her up and flew her over his head. "I'm flying!"

"Yes you are angel." Sam grinned. "Flying straight-" He leapt up and grabbed her out of Bucky's arms "-into my arms."

"No!" Y/N giggled, trying to get away. "Daddy! Daddy the monster got me!"

Tony chuckled and 'rescued' her from Sam's grasp. "Ah! Now daddy's the hero isn't he!"

Bucky 'gently' kicked Tony in the balls. Tony groaned, lowering Y/N to the ground to cover his private parts. Y/N didn't notice, as Steve held his arms out, getting down on one knee and said, ""The princess needs to come home to the castle now."

"My prince!" Y/N squealed, throwing herself into Steve's arms and laughing as he picked her up and then carried her off to bed.

"Ow, what was that for?" Tony complained, now that Y/N was out of earshot.

Bucky chuckled, "I think you should be more worried about your daughter calling Steve her prince."

Tony snorted, "No, I think I should be more worried about giving her siblings in the future."

The others roared with laughter.

"Read me a bedtime story?" Y/N asked Steve happily.

Steve smiled, going over to her bookcase and pulling out a huge book that contained every fairy tale in the world. It was heavy and thick, with old parchment and old hand drawn illustrations. They were also the original fairy tales too, so not the new ones that had been re-written.

"Which one do you want to hear tonight?" Steve asked, flipping open the book carefully. Him, Sam, Clint, and Rhodey had taken turns reading every single story in here to her.

"Um, the one about Little Red Riding Hood!" She said happily, wrapping her arms around a teddy bear that Wanda had given her for Christmas.

"Okay." Steve said softly, opened up the page, and read until she fell asleep.

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