#bucky barnes trauma

[hainethehero]

Stucky headcanon- Steve & Bucky have a serious fight... major angst...

Steve accidentally stumbles upon footage of Bucky's torture under HYDRA on his laptop and watches the whole thing. Bucky comes home to a traumatized and shaken Steve who reveals what happened. He didn't mean to watch it but... it just happened. He couldn't stop even if he tried. Bucky gets angry and yells at Steve for invading his privacy like that, screaming that it was none of his business. Steve tries to apologize but Bucky storms out and leaves him in their apartment for weeks. No contact, no signals.

Steve falls apart while Bucky has to come to terms with the fact that he's ashamed of his past as the Winter soldier and not inherently upset at Steve. He just didn't want to be seen as that person anymore, especially not by Steve.

[writingmyheartsout]

Nobody's Soldier - a Bucky Barnes story.

So here we are, finally the first part of this story. The prompt was simple paired in a therapy program and the first that came to my mind was Bucky (since the hyperfixation came back) and yes the title is an Hozier song.

Hope you like it <3 (thanks to the awesome beta @green-binder as well )

This fic is also on Ao3 and Wattpad

Nobody's Soldier playlist

CW: talking about trauma, PTSD, nightmares, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning himself), trauma, trauma bonding, unexpected feelings, slight obsession, anxiety, denial, manipulation, reader has female pronous.

(Not much major warnings in this, next one will be a bit heavier)

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Ch. 1 - Paralyzed

"A what now?" Bucky asked his therapist with furrowed brows, visibly in confusion.

"It's a therapy companion program. I think it would be good for you.." Doctor Raynor said bluntly, leaning back in her chair but looking at him with a stern expression. ”…You need to talk to people."

Bucky glares quietly at her then, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't need this.

"Who… the hell anyway...?" he started but suddenly stopped when he heard another voice coming from the doorway.

"Hello Doctor..." you said, standing in the doorway with a bright smile on your face, arriving early as you always did.

You did this before, this program, you were involved from the very beginning and you had already been paired with four people already. Three of them were living their best lives, with little to no problems, but one was still in the program yet away from you, as he had accidentally developed feelings. Safe to say, that time didn't end well.

You hoped this one would be, at least, nice.

As soon as the doctor invited you in, you moved closer, greeting them politely again as soon as you sat down, but he didn't take your hand in return.

You shrugged a little at that, you knew that people could come off as rude with new people around, especially in places like these, and there was nothing wrong with that.

Right after you greeted him, to no answer, Bucky glanced at you the moment you looked away as you listened to whatever the doctor was saying, looking you up and down once, while having mixed feelings about the whole ordeal.

It wasn’t as if he disliked you immediately, he didn't even know you. But the thought of being paired with someone he'd never met made his blood boil with annoyance before even starting. 

The sole idea of talking to a stranger, of opening up to them… He was uncomfortable enough with his therapist, how bad would it be with you?

On the other hand, you completely missed the look of annoyance he had on his face, looking at you uncertainly while you listened to the doctor.

You had and still have your fair share of traumas, but as some kind of coping mechanism, you hid it fairly well, something your own doctor was still trying to fix. As a result, you were exceptionally good with others, listening to them and even helping them to start believing in themselves. All the things you didn’t have, not from the people you wanted to.

Then Bucky let out a silent sigh, turning to look out the window completely uninterested in the whole situation as he focused on the cars driving past the building instead. 

He didn't have to talk about anything he didn't want to, he thought, scoffing slightly in his mind.

Although, with the therapist watching, he knew he'd have to be civil. He glances back at you before looking back out the window. 

"You don't need to be here," he says bluntly then, keeping his eyes focused outside.

"Excuse me?" both you and the doctor turned to him, and you frowned while the therapist explained to him for the nth time why he needed to do this.

You weren't hurt by his words, per se, it was the reaction everyone had, especially with a program like this one, so you were used to it. You shrugged and looked away while he argued with his doctor.

It’s true, you didn’t need to be there, you were well aware of that. Your gaze focused on your lap, and you started fidgeting nervously with your sleeve, pulling at an invisible thread on your sweater.

"I don't need a damn babysitter…" he scoffed, leaning back in his seat before his eyes darted over to you, looking you up and down as his eyes narrowed in silent disapproval. 

“James, don’t start… I already explained why…” Doctor Raynor repeated, visibly annoyed as the frown on her face deepened.

At that he sighed in annoyance, the idea of this program pissed him off. Being seen as weak and in need of someone to watch over him was enough to drive him up the wall.

He didn't need anyone to take care of him. He was a former trained assassin for God's sake.

At that, you looked back with the most unreadable expression on your face and just gently smiled. Then with one last look at the doctor, you spoke up again.

"I'm well aware and I don't pretend to know anything you're going through..." you said, your tone calm yet firm, standing up right after.

"Look… Bucky? Bucky, right…?" you quickly asked before continuing…”.. we've all been there more or less so I'm not forcing you to do anything, really.” 

But before leaving, you pulled something from your pocket, giving it to him.

"This is my number if you ever need anything or someone to stay silent with…up to you," you added, in a much more gentle tone.

After that you walked away but not before saying goodbye to the doctor with a smile back on your face. 

Bucky didn't like the way you smiled at him. It was like you saw something he couldn’t and he didn't like not knowing things. 

His brows furrowed as he watched you get up. He sat there in slight shock as you spoke. 

Why were you being this damn civil with him? Didn't you want to know more? Demand answers? Knowing who he really was? All that and more pissed him off and yet intrigued him at the same time, a million thoughts starting to run around his head.

His frown deepened as you suddenly handed him a small piece of paper. He stared at it a moment before looking up and seeing you walk away. He had no intention of using that damn thing.

One week later, to the day, your phone rang.

After the little misunderstanding both of you had in the therapist's office, your life kept on going like it always did, waking up, going to work, eating… when you remembered to… having a breakdown or two, and trying to manage your anxiety. Normal stuff, just everyday things.

Not that you expected anyone to actually call you but, as you always did, when your phone rang even in the middle of the night, you answered.

This time when you picked up, it was only one sentence.

"I had a nightmare..." 

Bucky's voice was quiet over the phone. He was sitting on the floor, covered only by a thin blanket, breathing heavily as he tried to compose himself. 

Every nightmare always felt so real, so damn vivid. He could still taste the blood in his mouth. Still feel the ghosts of hands, tearing him apart. 

How long had it been since a nightmare hadn't woken him up screaming? He should be used to this by now.

"What do you need me to do?" was the only thing you said to him after that, voice gentle and quiet, partly from sleep.

And then you waited in silence. For him to just calm down over the phone or start talking, whatever he needed from you or didn't, you would help him, no matter how bad your first impression was.

Bucky stayed silent for a moment longer as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes closed tight as he focused on the sound of your voice.

Calm down. Just. Calm. Down. He kept repeating this in his mind. He didn't want to feel like this. He hated feeling like this. Anxious, terrified. Weak.

"Just..." his voice was quiet, wavering slightly. "Don't hang up.”

"I won't..." you promptly replied, your voice still soft as you sat up on the bed, hearing him trying to control his breath.

It wasn't the first time this happened with a therapy companion, it was honestly quite common, you had been there before. 

So you stayed, silence falling over you both as he calmed down, occasionally with your reassurance that everything was alright, spoken gently.

After that night, you didn’t hear from him until a month later, except for a few texts he sent went he felt like he was slipping out again, but no nightmares, or at least that's what he told you.

The more you talked, the more you felt like he was starting to open up.

The next time he did call you again, he was a complete mess.

Bucky was breathing heavily once again, sweating profusely, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared at nothing. He knew where he was. He knew the past was just in his head. But God did it feel so real.

"I-I can't... I can't breathe." He muttered, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes as his shoulders began to shake.

"Bucky..." you started quietly as you sat on your couch, listening as he almost choked on his own breath.

But he wasn't listening, his breath was heavy, as if he was about to pass out. You knew too well what it was and how disruptive it could be. Still, it was all in his head.

"James..." you tried again, more assertive but still calm "..what can I do for you?"

Sometimes saying out their full name during a panic attack would shock them out of it, sometimes not. But you had to try, hoping this time it would work.

Bucky froze for a moment as if hearing his name was enough of a shock to freeze him in his tracks. He was breathing fast, almost panting, he was struggling to speak, to process his thoughts. It was minutes until his eyes finally refocused, looking around frantically as he realised where he was.

He was in his apartment. In his bed. Safe.

The realization was enough to make his breath hitch, a choked sob escaping his lips. It took him a couple of moments to respond, his voice sounding shaky and pained.

"I-I-" He tried, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"It's fine..." you whispered, heart still clenching at hearing his soft sobs and how he was still struggling to speak. 

You weren't a therapist, you couldn't be that distant with the people you were paired with, so the pang in your stomach was real. 

Was it empathy? Or did you just know what it feels like? Either way, you gave all of yourself to help when needed. 

"I can be on the phone all night if that’s what you need..." you added, a tinge of a smile on your lips. 

You wanted him to know you were there for him.

Bucky closed his eyes tightly as he tried to stop the tears from falling.

He felt humiliated. Weak. For calling you when he should have been able to handle this on his own. It was just a nightmare. 

He was a grown man, he fought in a war, he wasn’t some pathetic child who couldn't handle a nightmare.

But your voice was so damn calm and gentle. Telling him everything would be ok. That you'd stay. It calmed him slightly, but the shame was still there. 

"You… don't have to… stay up for me." He muttered quietly, voice choking up still.

"You're not alone in this..." you replied, reassuring him once more.

These same words were the same your therapist told you the first session you had and they stuck in your head since then, helping and easing the process.

"No one should be alone in this, Bucky..." you added, your tone gentle and light as you stood up and headed to the kitchen.

"It hurts, I can tell you this much, it's not going to be easy… but it will get better" you went on, while you prepared yourself for bed.

You didn't know how long you'll be on the phone so you prepared yourself for a long night.

Bucky listened quietly, to the sound of you moving around on the other end, to your words. 

He didn't understand how you stayed so calm. How even after his rude comment that first time, you still spoke to him so kindly. 

"How… how do you not get angry...?" He asks suddenly, his voice hoarse. "How do you stay so damn calm?”

You laughed quietly at his question, as you pulled a book from your stash on the bedside table.

"Who said I don't?" you replied still amused by his assumption.”…I do get angry, very much so..." you added.

"With time and age, I just learned to let go of many things, it still hurts sometimes, but there's nothing I can do.”

Bucky was a little surprised when you let out a small laugh. It wasn't what he expected from you. He was actually expecting some kind of lecture, something about meditation or some other crap like that. He was so used to the lectures from his therapist and doctors. 

But you were honest. You got angry. You let go of things. 

Then he was silent for a moment, your blunt honesty taking him off guard. 

"Doesn't it get tiring? Being so… calm all the time?” He asked, genuinely curious as he felt himself breathing regularly now, his body slightly relaxing. 

At that you sighed. Still, the smile never left your lips.

"Very much so… but..." you replied after a moment, trying to find the best way to explain this.

"It gets more tiring to be mad all the time..." you said honestly as you now lay on the bed, on one side.

"I still cry, I get panic attacks… and I zone out a lot…" you stated, recalling all the times you still found yourself alone with your breath caught in your throat, legs pulled against your chest.

"Like I said, it gets better, not perfect…”

Bucky was a little startled by your honesty. How bluntly you spoke about your own struggles just to help him out. He knew very well how difficult it was. How frustrating it was to struggle with his past. How much it hurt.

But hearing you talk so casually about your panic attacks and crying was… odd, in a way. 

He was used to hiding his struggles and pretending everything was fine, he thought it was normal. 

Then he let out a huffed sigh. 

"How long does it take, usually?” he asked, deep down already knowing the answer.

"For things to get better?" you asked honestly, a little surprised by that kind of question from him. Of course, it was a rhetorical question, getting better didn’t have a set date, everyone and everything was different when it came to mental health.

"A long time." you then replied, not wanting to sugarcoat anything for him right now.

That's what you did usually, tell them how it was and how you got there. People in the same situation as yourself were mostly tired of unnecessary bits of advice that led to nothing.

"A lot of time and therapy sessions..." you added almost laughing like it was something funny. "... your brain won't be the same though, the trauma is stuck in your head”

Bucky huffed quietly, laying back against his pillows while he listened to you. 

He expected some type of halfhearted reassurance. Some shallow statement about how he'll heal and move past everything. 

But you didn't do that. You kept your statements blunt and straight to the point. You spoke about your own experiences easily. 

You weren't like his therapist. And this was far off a therapy session.

"So… my brain will never go back to normal…" He mutters quietly, not like a question but like a realization.

You lightly chuckled on the other end. 

You expected this kind of reaction, usually that's what happened. You did it too the first time you were told about this. But you eventually accepted it, on most days.

"Your brain is normal, Bucky..." you spoke again, softly this time." ...you still think, talk, laugh and cry… that's normal."

That's what you think about yourself too, when your intrusive thoughts weren’t winning the battle. You were still functional, but living in a world that hadn't been kind to you at all.

"Just with a little spice…” you added playfully. 

Bucky listened quietly, his eyes closed as he tried to keep his breathing even still.

He still didn't understand how you could speak so nonchalantly. 

Just a little spice? He repeated your last sentence in his head, trying to convince himself.

He thought about it for a moment longer. His mind was still messed up but he was still capable of all those things. It was a simple concept but it eased his mind a little, at least for now.

"Are you just gonna keep talking until I fall asleep?" He huffed then, trying to keep his voice distant now that he had recovered.

"If you want me to..." you only replied, maybe a little more sweetly than you intended to.

But you felt responsible somehow, few times had you seen someone so broken yet so stubborn with himself and others that you genuinely wanted to help.

"I could read to you, It doesn't bother me at all..." you suggested, fully expecting him to scoff at that as he was still trying to push you away.

Bucky stayed quiet for a moment. He didn't want to admit but the sound of your voice was soothing somehow.

Normally, he would try to keep himself awake. Stare up at the ceiling until he was so tired, he passed out from exhaustion.

But now, laying in his bed listening to the sound of your voice, he found that he was tired. Not in a tired-from-exhaustion kind of way, but tired in an I-could-fall-asleep kind of way. 

"Fine.” he only answered.

"Alright..." you only said, almost smiling at his reaction. 

You could see all the signs, the reluctance, the way he avoided showing himself truly or how he still bit back. He didn't trust you and it was fine, you were still a stranger.

You ended up reading him a novel, one that told about a knight in shining armour, until he fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself with your phone next to you, your reading glasses still on and the call ended a long time ago.

Bucky woke up in the morning slightly confused.

Looking around his darkened room, it took him a good minute or two to finally remember last night. He must have passed out during your call as he found his phone still in his hand, a glance at the time telling him it was nearly noon.

Maybe you hung up as soon as you realised he had fallen asleep.

He wondered if the previous night had all been some kind of very weird fever dream. But his phone still showed the call log. It had actually happened.

After waking up rather late you decided to work from home, luckily for you, it was possible with what you did, being between jobs had some benefits after all. 

You felt very sleepy still since you spent most of the night reading until you heard the call ending itself, so your day was slow and rather calm.

While, for once, thinking about yourself, your mind kept replaying what happened last night. How you heard Bucky cry, how his words stuttered and, after he calmed down, the questions that followed.

Then the reticence.

Later that day, right in the afternoon, you shoot him a message anyway.

-to Bucky: you ok? 

You didn't expect a reply, you were well aware of how he still tried to be distant.

And like he said the first time, you weren't his babysitter and he was a full-grown man, so it was up to him if he still wanted help.

On the other end, Bucky nearly dropped his phone when the screen lit up with your message.

He was still very much surprised that you were checking up on him. 

Why?

He stared at the message for a good few minutes, debating on what he should say or not. 

No, he wasn't ok. He was still shaken up from the nightmare he had. He was still frustrated with himself for not handling it alone. 

But he wouldn't exactly tell you any of that so he tried to come up with a reply, but it took him about an hour.

-From Bucky: I'm fine.

When the actual reply arrived, you couldn't hold back a laugh.

He was still so stubborn even after you heard him almost crying that his coldness now felt...different. 

-to Bucky: I don't believe that, but alright :) 

You went up with your usual day after that, busy with some more work while planning your next therapy session that was coming soon.

Bucky huffed quietly after receiving your reply, his eye twitching slightly. He was surprised that you didn't believe him that he was fine. 

But then again, you had heard what happened last night. You had heard him struggling to breathe. You had heard him nearly cry over the phone. 

How stupid he was to think he could convince you he was fine.

He tried to put the phone down, but he found himself picking it up again and staring at the screen. 

You just... Didn’t give up, did you? he thought, asking himself something he couldn’t reply to.

How expected, Bucky didn't reply further and that was fine with you. But deep down, to be completely honest, you started to kind of worry about him, to kind of care...

After a week, when you hadn't heard from him and had yet another session that felt hard, everything came crashing down.

At first, you were your usual happy self, telling your doctor about this therapy companion thing and what happened, minus the details.

But once you got home, you felt it, sneaky as it always was, another panic attack that slowly started to build up.

You spent months without one this strong but with the news in your life and the progress you made with therapy, it was strange that it didn't show up sooner. 

Now flashbacks of past memories and people playing in front of you, still sitting on the bathroom floor with your legs tight against your chest and your phone next to you… on silent.

When Bucky called this time, you didn’t answer.

Bucky had been ignoring the constant feeling of guilt deep in his stomach. You had helped him, saved him from that nightmare and the panic attack that followed, and his way of repaying you for that kindness was acting cold and distant? 

He couldn’t tell if you were worried about him or just nice but you were still trying to help him somehow. 

But he was too stubborn to admit he needed someone right now, to admit he needed you. 

So it was only right that he couldn't reach you when he finally picked up that damn phone.

Sitting in his living room, now staring down at his phone, Bucky tried to call you again and again, but like the other calls he already made, he was sent to voicemail. Not even an answer in text.

Dread started to fill him, his mind immediately going to the worst-case scenario. 

Did something happen? Why aren't you picking up? Did you put your phone on silent? Why?

You pulled through yet again, not without your fair share of tears and so much pain, but you did. Still, your body felt numb and sore, sitting in the same position for hours, your mouth dry and your eyes burning.

You were a complete mess, but your breathing was now finally steady. 

Still, you haven't checked your phone and honestly, it was one of your last thoughts as of now.

You didn't know the time either, as your brain was still scattered and clouded even after the shower you took just to feel something.

So when you finally picked it up, your eyes went wide and you almost cried again.

4 missed calls from Bucky

1 text from Bucky

Guilt and fear started silently spreading inside you all over again. You couldn't do this now, it felt like betrayal but you couldn't.

Bucky sat in his living room, his body stiff and filled with fear. 

He had called you about 4 times now. Each time, he was met with a voice-mail. 

What the hell was going on? 

He was tempted to do something, maybe find out where you lived and go check on you. But he forced himself to calm down, trying to convince himself to not overreact. 

You probably had your phone on silent. You probably didn't hear it. You probably were fine.

When you were about to lay in bed and have some sleep, you received another call and for a moment you were tempted to answer, but you didn’t. Instead, you placed your phone on the bedside table and got under the covers.

But when you were about to drift off, your eyes about to close you picked up your phone again and decided to, at least, read the message.

-from Bucky: what happened?

If you weren't so tired you would have laughed about it, about the worry that seeped from a single message, but even your face felt heavy.

So you just typed a quick answer.

-to Bucky: wasn't feeling myself, I'm sorry...we can chat tomorrow.

And with that, you fell asleep, exhausted and aching with your phone still in your hand.

Bucky read your message over and over again while he lay in his bed. He was still worried but the knot in his stomach started to lessen slightly. He felt like a fool for being so dramatic. 

Of course, you were just having an off day. Off days happened, especially for people like the two of you. He was just overreacting. 

He decided to send you one last text, unable to help himself.

-From Bucky: call me if you need me.

With that, he sat his phone on his bedside table and closed his eyes.

The answer to Bucky's text only arrived at the end of the next day since sleeping past your alarm had made you arrive late for a work appointment.

In other words, your day was a bit hectic.

Then you helped your neighbour on your way back home.

And when finally you were sitting on the couch, in your comfortable clothes, the tv didn't turn on. So you had to call the landlord then.

You were tired, frustrated even and not really in your best behaviour. Still, you owed Bucky an answer.

-to Bucky: did you sleep last night? Saw you were a bit worried. Anyway not my best day but I'm better. Ps: do you happen to know how to fix a tv?

Bucky read over your message, his lips twitching into an involuntary small smile. 

Not your best day. 

He could tell from the way you wrote the message that you were a little bit frustrated with how your day had gone but still tried to stay positive. It was…  cute. 

He quickly typed out a response, ignoring the strange feeling inside his chest as he sent it. 

-From Bucky: I slept alright. And how do you manage to screw up a damn tv?

-to Bucky: how dare you! I was out all day and it was already like this, called the landlord but he said there's nothing he could do :(

You typed out almost too quickly, but then you were distracted, only to finish your text minutes later.

-to Bucky: sorry my neighbour needed something… anyways I’m happy to hear you slept some, at least.

You were so focused on the broken tv, and your neighbour moving out that you didn’t tell him about the episode that happened last night. That made you feel rather guilty, you were paired for that specific reason and while you were all about helping him, you just refused to let others help you when the same thing happened.

Bucky was beginning to pick up on your behaviour, about you only talking about your struggles when you wanted to be helpful but not when you needed it. You had talked him through a panic attack but never said anything about why you were still in therapy.

At that, a feeling of determination welled up inside of him as he read over your message. 

He was going to find out what was going on with you, one way or another. Shocking even himself with that very thought.  e quickly typed out a reply. 

-From Bucky: Your landlord sounds like a douche. Maybe I could take a look at it for you.

His next message made you stop in your tracks as you crossed the room and went to the kitchen.

The other times you were paired up, it was always by calls and texts as the other were too scared to even go out, so this was kind of unexpected. With the way he had acted when you both first met and how he still tried to, this was kind of a shock.

But then, when you didn’t answer right away, another text arrived, pulling a slight smile out of you, now that he was acting worried.

-from Bucky: so? 

-to Bucky: won't hurt, can send u my address, warn me when you do though.

Bucky tried to keep his heart from beating so damn fast. It was a dumb offer, a stupid thought he had, but you had accepted nonetheless. So he wasn’t sure why he felt… nervous? 

He told himself it was because he was worried about you, worried that you might have been struggling like he was. But a small part of him couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was because he…

No!... not going there.

He stopped himself from thinking more about it, quickly replying to you. 

-From Bucky: Yeah, send me the address. I’ll be there in thirty.

I'll be there in thirty. Well that was quick, you told yourself as you read his last message, totally not expecting this sudden change of heart as a strange feeling of happiness started brewing inside you but, at the same time, you were scared.

Not because Bucky was a bad person, you were sure he had too much good in him, but for the fact that someone would actually want to come over.

This was new.

And while you were overthinking this, trying to tidy up your messy apartment as best as you could, minutes passed and suddenly someone had knocked at your door.

Bucky stood in front of your apartment, his hand raised to knock. He was starting to feel a bit dumb.

It was a stupid idea. Why did he offer to come over? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But his mind was filled with worry, his heart racing as he continued to stand in front of your door like some kind of idiot.

He finally forced himself to knock, even if the knocking came off a bit too loudly because of his nervousness.

As soon as you opened the door your breath hitched a little. He was standing there, wearing just a pair of black jeans, a leather jacket with a dark blue jersey underneath, and…gloves? 

When did he get so tall and… no, not the right time, as you took in the unreadable expression he had on his face.

But then you quickly reminded yourself that the only time you both saw each other was in his doctor's office.

"Hi stranger..." you said, after a few seconds of internal battle within your brain.."...were you worried about me perhaps?" you joked, awkwardly and only to hide your embarrassment.

But as he looked down at you, you realized you were still in his way and stepped aside enough to let him pass.

The first impression he had of you was bad, and the second? Well, maybe now he considered you an idiot. 

Bucky stood stiffly in front of you, almost towering over you as he looked down to meet your gaze. 

Damn, you were tiny. He hadn’t noticed that before, just now realizing just how much smaller you were than him.

As he stepped in, he tried to keep the cold look on his face, but it was hard to keep his eyes from roaming over you, taking in your messy sweatpants and oversized shirt. Cute, he caught himself thinking.

"Maybe a little bit..." he muttered grudgingly, walking inside your apartment.

“Oh…” you said quietly as he walked in, surprised by his answer.

Then you saw him looking around as if he was searching for something, making you even more confused. 

Then it hit you… his doctor told you he was a former military.

"It's just… just an old tv..." you tried, not really knowing why you stuttered at first as you followed him into your living room.

Bucky kept his hands shoved into his pockets as he walked around your living room, eyes roaming over every corner in search of any potential threats. An old habit of his from his time on the front lines. 

When he spotted the television, his eyes narrowed slightly, only shedding off his jacket and remaining with just a long-sleeved shirt on.

A damn old tv, maybe older than him.

"How old is it?" he asked while he kneeled down in front of it, his fingers already picking at the back of the machine.

It took a little to answer his question, still stunned by the fact that he was really in your apartment.

The same guy that couldn't stand you the first time he saw you. 

"Very… I mean..." you replied, then quickly correcting yourself."...I don't know really, bought it used."

You confessed, cheeks slightly flushing as if you were ashamed by that. You didn't have much on your own and therapy was damn expensive, after all.

As he worked, you tried not to bother him much, staying away as much as possible and sitting quietly on the couch. 

Bucky hummed quietly while you spoke, his mind racing with questions.

How old could this tv be? And just how much did it cost you?

But he held his tongue, not wanting to risk upsetting you with his questions. 

As he continued to inspect the old device, still he noticed how he could practically sense you trying to distance yourself from him and not bothering him much. 

So he held back the urge to look at you, trying to focus on the old machine instead. 

Why were you being too damn polite? Why were you so damn far away?

As you tried to focus, still not very much into yourself after a whole day of unexpected setbacks, the bell rang making you jump a little, startling Bucky as well.

But before he could say anything, you went to check, only to realize it was just your neighbour again as soon as you opened the door.

And while you talked, you didn’t notice that her voice was so loud that it could be heard even inside your apartment, as you both were at the door and away from the living room, so much that made Bucky curious about what was happening. 

Bucky paused in his work on the tv as he heard the bell ring, his head turning to look towards you as you walked out of the room. 

He kept working, the sound of your voices filtering faintly into the living room.

He wasn't trying to listen in your conversation but the more you and your neighbour talked, the more Bucky found himself subconsciously trying to make out what was being said.

He started to feel like a creep, listening to your private conversation like this. But he couldn't help it, the curiosity was eating away at him and...

The more he listened, the more he realised that something was off. 

He slowly rose up from his kneeled position and turned to face the entrance as the voices got slightly louder.

When you finally closed the door with a loud sigh and turned to come back to the other room, you almost jumped as you found him there, standing near the entrance, with a deep frown on his face.

"Jesus..." you gasped, a hand on your chest.”...scared the hell out of me."

"You good? ...did something happen?" you then added as he kept looking between you and the front door.

Bucky kept his face stoic, his mind racing as his eyes roamed over you.

He was about to ask you about the neighbour, about your conversation. It was none of his business but… he just couldn’t stop himself. 

"What the hell was that about?" he asked, gesturing toward the door.

It was your turn to frown, as soon as the words left Bucky's mouth you got confused. 

How the hell did he...? you thought, crossing both your arms over your chest.

You were tired, still bothered by the remnants of your previous episode and on the verge of a breakdown. You couldn't handle this now.

"Listen, I'm going to be as polite as I can right now..." you started, your tone calm but with a slight edge.

"That's none of your fucking business." 

And as soon as you said that, not giving him time to reply or do anything, you stormed off and locked yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the floor as soon as you were in.

Bucky was stunned for a moment, completely taken aback by your reaction. He had been rude, pushing a personal question out of the blue. 

He hadn't really meant it, he was just worried about you. But now he realized he had gone too far, overstepping a boundary. 

God damn it, he was a moron.

He felt panic well up inside him as you stormed off into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you, the sound of the lock flicking in place echoing in the apartment.

Bucky stood frozen still, the silence from the other side of the door deafening. 

Was he supposed to wait there? Should he knock? Leave? He didn't know what to do.

He ran his hand through his hair, feeling completely lost.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave you alone, not while you were clearly upset, so after a few moments standing there awkwardly, he gently knocked on the door.

You missed the first knock, too lost in your mind yet again, trying to calm your breathing the way your therapist told you many times.

Everything seemed to shatter into tiny pieces, even the smallest things now becoming bigger problems.

You just couldn't, while you kept repeating, more like murmuring to yourself...

I'm sorry...

can't do this anymore...

please shut up

Your brain felt like it was on fire, hurting you more than you could imagine. 

Bucky's worry grew as he heard your voice quietly talking to yourself through the door.

He felt like an idiot for overstepping, causing you to feel like this. And now you were locked away from him, alone and struggling.

With a knot in his stomach, he once again knocked on the door. He hated asking but…

"Can I come in?..." he called quietly, placing his forehead against the door.

You were on the verge of crying, but for a moment your brain refocused and you heard knocking as well as Bucky's voice.

He was still here? Why?

Deep down you knew this time you couldn't do it alone, that you had to talk this out but it was like your body was trapped on the spot.

When Bucky started to beg, behind the still-closed door, you felt a heavy sense of guilt washing over you, standing up right after but barely balancing on your feet.

Then you unlocked the door before you hunched over the sink, hands gripping the surface while your breath felt ragged.

Bucky was almost surprised you opened up the door, his heart clenching at the sight of you. He had never expected to see you this vulnerable.

He really was an idiot for causing you this much anguish.

He slowly stepped into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind himself.

"Hey..." he started, not really knowing what to say.

He stepped closer behind you, not daring to touch you, his heart aching again as he saw you hunched over the sink.

When you heard the faint footsteps and Bucky's voice so gentle, you raised your head slightly, the first tears were already running down your face and you only wanted to scream, but you swallowed it.

Instead, it happened in a blur, you turned around and hugged him tight, burying your face into his shirt and leaving him stunned. 

You were weak, felt worse than ever and clearly in need of help.

Bucky’s heart stopped as you suddenly turned around and hugged him.

He had barely been able to register what was happening, but now he froze when he felt you against him. 

His arms hovered in the air at first, not knowing what to do, but the sound of muffled sobs coming from you snapped him back into reality as if suddenly his brain and body started moving again. 

So he quickly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him as he leaned down and gently rested his chin on the top of your head.

You didn't know how much time had passed, hell you didn’t know what time it was as it felt like everything stopped when panic started gnawing at you again.

Your head was still spinning as your fingers dug tighter into the fabric of Bucky's shirt.

And while your breath was uneven and it seemed like you couldn't hold back the tears, you felt guilt. 

Guilt of putting him into this situation. Guilt of embarrassing him so much.

"Not… not your fault.." you tried, as soon as you felt his hands on your back."...I'm sorry, I was already a mess..." your voice was muffled and broken, your brain still struggling to form a coherent thought on its own.

Bucky felt his heart twist in his chest as he listened to your broken voice. 

He kept his chin on your head, listening to you speak.

"What are you apologizing for?" he asked gently, rubbing his palm up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you.

"I’m at fault here, it's my fault you’re upset," he said quietly, silently scolding himself for being so damn nosy and rude.

"I was..." you croaked out then.."I had… an episode last night..." forcing your words out to explain yourself. 

You were aware he probably sensed something was off when you didn’t return his calls and now you were facing the consequences of your actions. 

He was your therapy companion, for God's sake you mentally scolded yourself seconds after, your brain still feeling heavy.

"I thought I was getting better..." 

Bucky was slowly piecing everything together, the picture becoming clearer as you continued. He felt another wave of guilt crash over him, a cold feeling forming in his stomach.

That's why you didn’t pick up last night, that’s why you’ve been so distant.

And he had come over, intruding on your life like an idiot, making it all worse. He held you a little tighter, gently pulling you closer against his chest.

"You are getting better..." he mumbled against your hair.

You actually sob at his words and the way he was now holding you. It felt good, safe and everything you hadn't felt in ages. And that scared you shitless.

"Stealing my words here..." you said, even if your voice was broken, trying to joke as your brain started refocusing itself slowly.

You wouldn't admit it to him or anyone except your therapist, but funnily enough the proximity and the contact helped ground you and not let your intrusive thoughts win.

Even if your major trauma stemmed from touch itself.

And he was indeed helping you now.

Bucky let out a small huff; somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. Maybe stealing your words wasn't that bad, you sounded better after all.

He felt the tension that had been present in your body slowly drain away as he continued to hold you, his hand rubbing small circles on your back.

It shouldn’t feel this good to hold you, and even less feel this protective over you.

He ignored the thought for now, gently pulling you closer to his chest.

"Do you want to talk about it…?" he mumbled quietly.

A soft broken sigh left your lips right after his question, relief quickly washing over your body as Bucky kept on silently comforting you.

You're safe. It's ok, were the thoughts that now replaced the pain in your brain, keeping you sane.

At his question, you just nodded yes, still you didn’t move an inch from where you were, body still aching, too convinced that if you let go you'd fall to the floor.

Bucky felt some of the tension drain from his own shoulders as well as you settled against his chest, the sight of you relaxing against him making his heart feel warmer.

He continued to hold you against him for a few more moments, his hand still rubbing at your back in calming circles.

But then, he did something he shouldn’t have. 

He gently placed a light kiss on the top of your head, an intimate gesture of comfort.

You felt good, calmer even but when you felt the press of lips on top of your head and his breath ghosting in your hair you froze.

This wasn't right, this shouldn’t be happening… this... 

You thought, as your breath hitched slightly while you pulled away, still very much shocked as you looked up at him.

"What..? Did you..?”

Bucky’s heart jumped into his throat when you suddenly pulled away, immediately missing the warmth of your body against his. And when you looked up at him, a mixture of shock and confusion in your eyes, his heart sank.

It was then that he realized what he had just done.

His heart still hammering against his chest as he opened his mouth to speak, stuttering out the first words he could think of.

"I don’t-... I don’t know what came over me-... I'm sorry-” he tried.

You took another step back, your eyes never leaving Bucky's face, watching him as he just realized what he had done.

You didn't want to be mean, to mock him or anything but this wasn't right.

"... I... listen..." you started, voice wavering a little…" we're just…in a program together… there's… there's nothing-" 

Then you stumbled a little, both your hand went to grip the sink behind you to keep you upright. Still, you felt confused, mind clouded as a strange feeling grew inside you. 

Bucky felt his heart ache at your words. He knew you were right, of course, you were right.

But in that moment, the realization dawned on him, the realization that he liked you. He wanted you and the thought scared the hell out of him.

He quickly reached out and gently grabbed your elbow to help keep you steady when you stumbled.

He didn’t speak for a moment, a lump in his throat as he cursed himself silently, the fear of losing whatever you both had taking over him.

You flinched out of instinct when you felt his hand touching you again.

This wasn't on purpose, you weren't scared of him but… What if he wanted more? What if he took advantage of your weak state?

That's why you were fine to keep all therapy partners distant, communicating only when needed and not meeting with any of them. 

This was wrong, this shouldn’t have happened, you needed to heal not get worse.

"I… I think you should go..." you said after a few minutes, looking away."... I... I'll still help you if you… need me to.”

Bucky felt as if he had been punched in the gut as you flinched away from his touch.

The thought of you fearing him broke his heart even more, confirming every thought his traitorous brain was throwing at him. It was all his fault.

He had pushed, he had been rude and he had to go and act on the feelings he wasn’t supposed to have.

So when you mumbled the next words, he quickly nodded, letting go of your elbow.

"Yeah... yeah alright… whatever you want,” he replied as he took a step back and quickly left the bathroom.

You stood still, looking away until you heard the front door open and close, then you collapsed, knees hitting the floor.

You were trembling, you felt confused as stray tears now streamed down your face again but you also felt at a loss, like someone had stolen your breath.

The next morning you didn’t even remember how you got to bed but you had no intention of leaving it any time soon. 

You had nothing much to do and with Bucky probably out of the picture, it was you, alone, all over again.

Still, out of habit in the hours that followed, you checked your phone all the same, finding nothing, as you had expected.

Bucky, on the other hand, was pissed. At himself, that was.

He kept replaying what had happened in his head, the look on your face, the way you had flinched away from him...

All because he had been too nosy, pushing you into an episode, and then on top of that, he had gone and acted on his stupid feelings.

___________________

If you got this far, thank you...more is coming as I already have 40k words about this. <3

[astxrwar]

“why do you HC bucky as desperately wanting to feel needed” well you see

Steve. pre-serum. scrappy smart-mouthed 5’4 zero brain cells. always sick and asthmatic and losing everyone in his life and Bucky took care of him! loved him! loved to take care of him!

and then one day steve didn’t need somebody to take care of him anymore. and he started taking care of Bucky (saved him the first time, then the second time, essentially brought him back to life!!) and bucky started needing him and he never really stopped needing him and he hated himself for it and for not being able to do things for Steve the way he used to. and then steve was just. gone. and now he’s alone. and he feels okay only when he’s being useful to people and Proving Steve Right about him being good under the decades of abuse trauma.

he is absolutely not comfortable with the side of himself that Needs people that badly, he’d gone most of his life being the caretaker and not really knowing what that even felt like, and it’s easier to allow yourself to need to be needed than it is to just. need. they’re both basically the same thing but it’s an extra step to assuage his pervasive self-worth issues and feel Secure in caring about people because he really just feels like a burden unless he’s being Useful.

[sorchathered]

Getting my husband to watch Triple Frontier with me

My husband- you have a type boo

Me- what do you mean?

Husband- brown haired military men with ptsd who are a little grumpy and sassy…

Me- oh so basically I pick you in fictional characters everywhere I go.

Husband- shit. 🤦🏼‍♀️

😂😂😂😂

He’s not wrong though 😂

[hurtspideyparker]

The Avengers as High School Friend Group Archetypes

Tony Stark: Mentally ill friend. Made too many suicide jokes so his friends forced him into therapy. Flakes out on plans a lot. Either has a God complex or the worst self-esteem known to humankind. Freaks everyone out when he texts goodbye in the gc without context (he's just going on a business trip)

Bucky Barnes: Black cat. Hisses at everyone but Steve. Great at holding his boundaries but comes off aloof. Nobody is sure if he actually likes them but would secretly kill for all his friends. Hides in shadows and jumpscares everyone with his lurking. Secretly naps on Sam's bed when no one's looking

Steve Rogers: Mom friend. Always has granola bars, Tylenol, and a Tide to Go on him. Organizes the group hangouts and reminds everyone when they have a dentist appointment. Everyone's parents love him, "you can go if Steve's going" vibe. Constantly getting his friends out of trouble (secretly encourages them). His romantic life is a disaster

Thor Odinson: Gym bro. Eats eggs, chicken and rice everyday. Forces his friends to join him in the gym and comments about them not eating enough protein. Genuinely cares for their health, will get them out of bed for food and fresh air when they're sad. Goes through protein powder like Tony went through cocaine in the 80s

Peter Parker: Annoying little brother. Someone's mom definitely made them bring him to the big kid hangout. Everyone bullies him but he doesn't realize it, he just likes the attention from the cool older kids. Sam and Bucky hold him upside down from his ankles till he gets dizzy and Steve makes them put him down. Everyone is super protective of him when he's outside the friend group (hey, only we get to be mean to him)

Sam Wilson: Therapist friend. Gets way too many texts at 3 am. Extremely emotionally mature but laughs at fart jokes. Knows everyone's trauma and will use it against them if provoked. Strangers randomly vent to him in public. Gentle parents adults when they're upset. Nobody ever asks him how he is

Natasha Romanoff: Man hater. All her best friends are men and none of them are actually sure if she's joking about hating them. Mean but never takes things too far. Flirts constantly because she thinks it's funny but is really awkward and bad at it when she genuinely likes someone. Hates when someone treats her like a man / "one of the bros", wishes she had more female friends

Bruce Banner: Bad luck friend. Can not catch a break. Everytime they hear from him something new has gone wrong in his life. His dog threw up on his bed, his computer broke before a huge deadline, his favourite sweater shrunk in the dryer. Just a disaster of a human. Constantly has some minor injury, from inexplicable bruises to a sprained wrist. Never having a good day but tries to remain positive. Anxious

Clint Barton: Class clown. Will make a fool of himself in front of every pretty girl in his vicinity. Is actually only funny half the time, the other half he's just loudly wrong. Confidence is key for him. Can charm and talk his way out of anything. Will make everyone laugh at the worst moments. Women reject him because he has a girl best friend

Wanda Maximoff: Boy crazy. Is ready to talk about her crush, boyfriend, or situationship at any given moment. Is never single for longer than a month. Will not take shit from a man and makes sure her and her friends are treated properly. Surprisingly good at balancing her friendships and relationships, doesn't neglect people. Has Pinterest boards for her wedding, dream home, and decor. Wants to be a stay at home mom. Big Swiftie and went to the Eras Tour

Pietro Maximoff: Unemployed friend. Always doing the most random thing on a Tuesday morning. One day he's kayaking in British Columbia, the next he's joined an MLM scam. He has a new cat? He adopted him from Istanbul on that trip no one knows about. He's drinking fresh lemonade? He actually volunteers with disabled elderly and Doris gives him lemons from her tree. Knows how to cook a turkey. Unclear if he's homeless or not, usually sleeping on a friend's couch or at a random woman's place (still on the couch)

[honeycombclaire]

You know what I need? I need the Marvel time-travel trope, but everyone goes back to the 40s.

(I say everyone, I mean the Avengers pre-Infinity War.)

Because everyone says Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are men out of time (and they’re not technically wrong). But I want to see the Avengers (sans Steve and Bucky) getting sent back in time by some wizard or a freak Asgardian lightning storm or something, and poof, they’re back in the 40s, right smack in the middle of the war.

I want the Avengers to witness what life was like during the war, hiding in bomb shelters and seeing the after effects of the world crawling out of the Great Depression and hurtling into the second World War in twenty years.

Life when Steve really was the weirdest thing science ever created. When he was desperately needed and internationally adored. Because all of the Avengers have PTSD, but Steve and Bucky went through World War II and got spit back out into the 20th and 21st centuries, and that’s a whole different category of PTSD and trauma.

I want the Avengers to actually meet the survivors of Azzano, when Steve marched into the massive Nazi base and saved hundreds of soldiers, part because he could and part because he was desperate to save his best friend, and didn’t think twice about it.

I want the Avengers to see Steve and Bucky thrive. I want them to witness Steve and Bucky with the Howling Commandos. Steve’s first team. I want them to see how Steve and Bucky lived, what life was like, because it was drastically different than the modern world.

I want the Avengers to witness firsthand life on a military base. I want Tony to have to look his father in the eye and pretend he doesn’t know who he is, but get to see all the good his father did because all he remembers is his father being an asshole. How much Steve really did care about Howard (and that Bucky did, too, because Howard made weapons to keep Steve safe).

I want Natasha to see that just because she’s an assassin doesn’t mean she’s a bad person, because there were hundreds of military assassins and spies during the war that did bad things to get information.

I want them to hear about the Tesseract and learn that sometimes Steve’s intelligence should be taken seriously, because he has experience and knowledge that none of the other Avengers will ever have. (“You should have left it in the water.” “This is the guy my dad never shut up about?”)

I want them to see how much Steve loved Peggy, how she and Bucky were the only ones who saw him for who he really was, and realize how awful it must have been for him to come back and work for the organization she created after his death and have to live without her.

I want them to hide and watch as Past Steve screams as Past Bucky falls from the train. I want them to see Past Steve realize he can’t get drunk, and the only way he can cope is to kill the Red Skull and end HYDRA. To avenge his friend. I want them to realize that not only did Past Steve crash the plane for nothing, but that Steve knows, has to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life.

I want them to listen with Peggy as Past Steve realizes he’s going to have to crash the plane. I want them to hear the slight tremble in Past Steve’s voice as he talks about dancing with Peggy, believing he’ll never get the chance, and that he’s going to die alone in the freezing cold ocean. I want them to not get the change to promise him that he’ll survive. I want them to hear the sudden static that cuts off Past Steve’s voice, and the heavy silence that comes after it.

I want them to see the world mourn for Captain America, who died just months before the war ended.

And then I want them to come back to the 21st century and see. I want them to see the way Steve’s eyes linger on pictures of Peggy and Howard, see the rows of records from the 30s and 40s in a whole new light, see rows of 30s-style clothes in his closet that he hardly ever wears because a lot of people will make jabs about it, see the way he always keeps Bucky in his sight, hugs him just a little bit tighter than he hugs everyone else.

I want them to see the bags under his and Bucky’s eyes when they have nightmares. I want Sam to quietly show them Steve’s list, and see that every line on every page is filled because he missed so much. I want them to find two more little books filled up just as much. I want them to realize how lost Steve still is despite how much he’s adapted.

I want them to see the subtle military training still ingrained in Steve’s bones, because any and every war was horrible, but World War II was something else entirely, and so was desperation that existed within the soldiers and the people. I want them to see Steve’s recklessness of jumping out of planes without a parachute, the way his eyes always scan the area when he enters a room, watching ever little detail and listening for any sound that might indicate danger. How he is always, always, on alert, even when he seems relaxed.

I want them to understand why Steve was so against the Sokovia Accords. It wasn’t because he wanted the power to do what he thought was best; it was because he was afraid of the consequences of having too many restrictions. Because even with international laws and the damn Geneva Convention, the Nazis still destroyed half the world, and decades later Nazi HYDRA was still carrying out their mission that Steve sacrificed his life for. Steve was a human experiment. The Serum was a biochemical weapon. The military broke the rules to protect the greater good, and Steve knew that. The war would have gone very differently without him.

Whether he was right or wrong about the Accords, after what Steve experienced, I want the Avengers finally understand where he was coming from. Why he was so afraid of strict regulations.

I want Tony to finally fully understand the significance of Steve giving up his shield in Siberia.

Why he was so determined to protect Bucky from the world. Not just because he was his best friend, or because it was the right thing to do. But also because Bucky was the only thing Steve physically had left of his life before the crash, save for his dog tags, and he was scared of what that would mean if Steve lost him.

Steve Rogers has so much trauma that Marvel completely ignored. They focused on Tony’s and Bucky’s and Natasha’s trauma; and that’s great, that’s important; but so much of Steve’s moral character doesn’t get explained because it gets glossed over with the excuse that he’s “Mr Good and Righteous.” And that’s true, but that’s just scratching the surface.

He’s Mr. Good and Righteous for a reason, and it doesn’t get talked about enough.

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Overworked

Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

A/N This is part two of the fic too many missions. However, there is a lot of angst in this fic. Idk what happened but I got a bit carried away and it gets really sad but it has a happy ending. Also, likes comments and reblogs are appreciated. All mistakes are my own so if you notice any feel free to comment below.

18+ MINORS DNI, THERE'S NOTHING EXPLICIT IN THIS FIC BUT THE FIRST PART HAS SMUT

Summary Bucky starts to take care of you when its actually him who needs taking care of

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff, angst (a lot) and Bucky has a flashback.

After Bucky helped you put the hoodie on, he put his other clothes back on. He proceeded to lift you up bridal style and take you to your shared floor of the tower.

“I’m capable of walking, you know,” you said while yawning.

“I know babydoll, but you deserve to be carried.”

He walked into the bathroom and set you on the counter while he turned the shower on and got it to your preferred temperature. He started to take his clothes off so you decided to take your his hoodie off (since it was the only thing you were wearing.)

Bucky turned around and picked you up again which made you giggle. He pressed a kiss to your lips and another to your forehead.

He walked under the spray of the shower and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Can you put me down please,” you asked, breathless from the kiss.

Bucky put you down and reached for his shower gel; he knew that you loved it when you smelled like him. Then, he picked up a loofah and put his shower gel on it before cleaning you thoroughly.

Once you were clean, Bucky picked up your shampoo and put some on his hand before massaging your scalp. You let out a sigh and then moved your head under the water so you could rinse the suds out of your hair. Bucky picked up the conditioner and applied it to the ends like you taught him to. You turned to face him and rested your forehead on his chest while the conditioner was being washed out of your hair.

“Thank you, baby,” you said, looking up at him with a smile on your face.

“You're welcome doll,” Bucky replied and kissed you once again.

“Let me return the favour,” you said. It was more of a demand though because Bucky loved taking care of you but still believed that he didn’t deserve to be taken care of due to his past actions- which were completely out of his control.

“You don’t have to doll,” Bucky replied, looking down at the floor.

You softly put your hand under his chin so he would look at you and you told him, “Darling, you deserve to be taken care of more than anyone else I know, especially since you’ve been working so hard lately. I know what you’re thinking and you need to stop. You’re the most amazing man I know, you’re so kind and caring and didn’t choose to do what you did in the past. Everyone knows that. Even Tony knows and we both know how much of a stubborn asshole he is.”

Bucky chuckled and his cheeks were tinted red. “Thanks, doll,”

You grabbed the shower gel and loofah and started to clean him. After that, you used your shampoo to wash his hair. Bucky loved when you washed his hair because he loved you playing with it especially when he was struggling with the memories and flashbacks of his past.

It was while you were rinsing the shampoo out of his hair when you noticed that he had gone completely still and his muscles were tensed up. His hands were shaking and tears were streaming down his face. You quickly finished rinsing his hair so you could help him out.

“Come back to me Bucky,” You whispered in his ear and grabbed his hands, “Honey listen to my voice, I need you to come back to me now.”

Bucky shuddered when he snapped out of the flashback and looked at you with the most fear-stricken eyes you had ever seen.

“I-I can still see it so vividly,” Bucky whispered.

You wrapped your arms around him and stood there for a minute or two.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here and in bed,” You grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the shower.

You turned the shower off, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your body. Then, you gave Bucky one to wrap around himself.

“Go into the bedroom Buck, I won’t be long. I just need to put a towel on my hair.”

Bucky just shook his head and stood in the doorway waiting for you to finish what you were doing. When you had finished, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

You grabbed some boxers for Bucky to put on and give them to him; you grab yourself some panties and nothing else since Bucky needs physical contact when he’s like this. You finished off drying your hair and brushed it through.

The bed hadn't been made yet which made it easier to get under the covers, “Come on baby,” you held your arms out to Bucky.

He walked over and crawled onto the bed. He rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arms around you as you played with his hair.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” He whispered.

“Shhhh. It’s ok. You’re so tired and overworked.”

“But I shouldn’t be so fucking broken,” Bucky’s voice cracked on the last word and the tears started to fall again, wetting your skin.

“Hey, you’re not broken. You’re a good guy who has been put through hell and back. You didn’t deserve any of it and you had no choice.” You replied, running your fingers through his still-damp hair.

You stayed like that for a while before Bucky sat up and moved to lay next to you. You looked at him confused. He rolled onto his side and used his hand to support his head.

“Thank you doll. I love you so so much.” Bucky leaned over to kiss you.

When you pulled back from the kiss, you responded with, “I love you too, so much.”

There was a comfortable silence that was disturbed by bucky when he said, “I need to finish the mission report.”

“It’s ok. I’ll explain why it’s late tomorrow. I'm sure Fury will understand.”

Bucky moved to lay on his back and moved his arm so you could cuddle up to his side.

“I definitely need the break, the lack of sleep makes everything worse.”

“Luckily, I spoke to Fury then,” you giggled.

Bucky was smiling, “I still can’t believe that you intimidate Fury. No one intimidates Fury.”

You leaned up to kiss Bucky, “Goodnight Buck,”

“Goodnight doll,”

That night, you both fell asleep quickly. Happy that you're able to sleep together after spending so long being unable to do so.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

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[impasta-wall]

Silly thoughts I’ve been having about Stucky because I love ships with angst :P

I fear that Steve would run very hot, like sweltering at times. While Bucky, oh sweet Bucky, would run as cold as the day he fell from the freight car. And how sick and twisted that Steve could never forget the day; not even when he’s near Bucky or when he has him on his hands because it’s awful but all he feels is cold, cold, dead, lifeless Bucky.

It keeps him up at night, awake in cold sweat. It doesn’t stop—the fear; until he’s found Bucky and wrapped himself around the soldier. Until he’s so close to him he can hear the thump of his heart and his arms are both warmed to the point they feel real—like flesh from 1941.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Story Masterlist

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, pregnancy, trauma recovery, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, gender dysphoria Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

1. Jori 2. Jerrica 3. Bucky 4. Bucky - cont'd 5. Robert Wheeler 6. Fatimah 7. Bucky - cont'd 8. Connor 9. Rebecca 10. Bea

A.N. As per usual, I'm playing with age gap relationships and have thus made the in-universe age of majority 19 instead of 18, to avoid any antis getting their panties (ha! rhymes) in a twist and reporting me to the Tumblr police. Bucky is 18-19, Steve is 31.

Housekeeping:

Trigger Warning: This fic contains occasional mentions of Steve's patients, who deal with issues of csa, sa, abortion, ptsd, and other traumas. Bucky is in the immediate aftermath of a rape at the story's start.

[hainethehero]

A JOSS WHEDON HATER FOREVER- a think piece on how Avengers 1 set up Steve Rogers to be the MCU's punching bag for the rest of the franchise

(We all know Joss Whedon is an absolute garbage person. He's done many horrible things including being a racist, sexist moron who should be behind literal bars.) This is a commentary on his absolute shit writing for Avengers 1.

This one particular scene and the one following it is purely poor writing & direction for the character of Steve Rogers.👇

After Coulson dies, Fury addresses Steve and Tony and tosses Coulson's bloodied Captain America cards at Steve. He says something like "guess you never found the time to sign them" which is just horribly cruel and though not OOC for Fury, is not something he'd say lightly. We later realize here👇

...that he's secretly trying to put together the team. This is where he makes his big "there was an idea" speech and mentions that "Stark knows this." Because yeah, Tony was made aware of this in Iron Man 1 when Coulson visited and told Pepper. In contrast, Steve had no idea about the Avengers Initiative.

In fact, the dude was just pulled from the Valkyrie in the ice!! In the beginning scene of Avengers 1, we see him at the gym with the punching bag having LITERAL WAR FLASHBACKS about Bucky and Peggy and the Howlies! He's not stable and yet Fury confronts him and ropes him into the mission to get the Tesseract. Steve says, "you should've left it where you found it." And I can't help but think that maybe Steve means himself as well because dude just lost EVERYONE & EVERYTHING he literally knew and cared about.

Anyway, back to the point, Steve knows nothing about the Initiative but is suddenly made to feel guilty about Coulson's death in some kind of roundabout way of "convincing him to join the team" in honor of Coulson.

And then, to make matters WORSE, in the next scene they make HIM comfort Tony 👇

They make him say, "im sorry" (like it was his fault???!) and "he was just doing his job" and "is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" LIKE WTAF???

*INSERTS JACOB ELORDI MEME FROM EUPHORIA SAYING WHAT THE FUCKKKKK?!*

First of all, Steve barely knows these people! Second, he was fond of Coulson and I'm sure they would've been close friends. But did they have to GUILT-TRIP Steve into joining the team? Like, that's just dumb and proves that they don't actually give a fuck about his character!

AND TALK ABOUT MEAN! Fury at least knew about Steve losing Bucky on that train. He KNOWS Steve's first words when he woke up from sleep was "I had a date" reflecting the tragedy of the man out of time. To just rip him out of sleep and thrust him into a mission and later making him feel guilty about Coulson was just pure cruelty, making SHIELD no better than HYDRA. They all saw Steve as a pawn, another mindless soldier to carry out their missions and I hate JW for that.

Steve's character was not accurately portrayed nor was his trauma properly dealt with and so this is why today, we see alot of MCU "fans" calling Steve the worst avenger, lame, boring and basically a crutch to Tony's genius. (I'm a huge Tony Stark fan, don't @ me). It just felt that the mcu wanted to make Tony the ultimate hero- which is fine, Nothing's wrong with that- but they did it at the expense of Steve's character and trauma.

Sadly, this narrative continues all the way down to Endgame and for that I will always hate JW & the mcu's portrayal of Steve Rogers.

[faerieriddle]

The tension between hating prolonged intimate contact and just even the thought of sex verses being an absolute degenerate, completely down-bad aka the bar is in hell, an utter slut if you will for fictional characters, but also knowing I couldn’t stand within two feet of them.

[bean-bean2000]

The Hacker - Part 3

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: angst, yelling, self-deprecating thoughts (lbody dismorphia, self-hatred), recall of past traumatic events including physical and mental abuse & murder, guns, depression (suicidal thoughts).

Please note that I am not responsible for what you consume online. proceed at your own caution.

Feedback is welcome and very appreciated!

Part 2 here

Series masterlist

———————————————————————————

You wake up to loud banging on your door and yelling.

“YOU BRAT!! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!” Steve yells.

You giggle at his anger. You get up and open the door swiftly with a smirk.

“What’s wrong Cap? Couldn’t sleep?”

“What is wrong with you?! Why can’t you just be a quiet nerd that does what she’s told to do? Why can’t you follow simple orders? Why must you always create problems?!”

“Geez Cap, I always took you for a morning person. Who’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Cut that out right now! I know it was you! This never happened until you showed up. What did you want to achieve from this?”

“I’m not property. I am not a soldier. As Tony said, I’m a cyberpunk. A simple ‘Thank you for saving my life’ would have been nice. You’re too high strung and refuse to admit that you were wrong and I was very right for interfering. I will not be your puppet. I am my own person, whether you like it or not! I may be a part of this team, against my own will, but that doesn’t mean you can bark orders at me like a dog!”

“GAH! you’re unbelievable!” Steve says as he stomps away.

You snort and roll your eyes. You head to the kitchen and living room to grab some breakfast; not like you were going to fall back asleep now anyway.

As you walk in you see a certain blue-eyed brooding super soldier sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on coffee.

Your heart skips a beat but you ignore it and walk nonchalantly to the coffee machine.

“Good morning.” you say politely.

Bucky doesn’t reply but you can feel his eyes boring into your back. You turn around slowly and sip on your coffee, staring back at him. You’re not that easily intimidated.

Bucky snorts as a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “You’re something else you know that? Nobody has ever angered Steve like you have.”

“Nobody has treated me as poorly as he has”

Bucky sighs “Give him a chance. He doesn’t understand how to use the TV remote half the time. He’s scared. he doesn’t know how to guide you and lead you during missions. He’s lost when it comes to modern age technology and it’s frustrating him.”

You stare at him as you consider what Bucky has told you.

“Regardless, his behaviour towards me is ridiculous. Considering he’s from the 40’s I expected a bit more chivalry and respect from him. I will make it clear as much as I can and as many times as needed that I am not his dog that he can bark orders at. End of conversation.”

“Wow this generation has really raised some ballsy women.” He says while shaking his head with a smile.

“Is that a problem old man? Want me to be little miss submissive? Running to you every night with a fresh meal on the table and do everything at your bidding?” you reply in a mocking voice.

Bucky gets up from the bar stool and walks towards you, he gently lowers his elbows on the kitchen island and stares at you directly in your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Honestly, I respect you the most out of everyone. You came here, alone and scared, and you still stand your ground, no matter the consequences. You’re confident and self-assured. They underestimated you.”

Your tongue is caught in your throat. His blue eyes are stormy. You swear you can see admiration and pride in his eyes but you quickly look away before you let your body take over and do what you really want to do to him. This is strictly professional. No emotions, you promised yourself.

You clear your throat and back up a bit “I um - i’m going to go to my office and do some stuff…alright bye.” You stammer as you quickly run off before he can stop you.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky watches you runaway with a smile on his face and his heart beating so fast. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this for someone. He just met her and feels like he’s known her forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You run to your office and sit on your chair abruptly. You dim the light, close the shades and turn on the purple LED lights. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. You embrace the calming atmosphere of your office as you begin to work.

You check your emails and notice a slew of small jobs Tony has delegated to you. Hacking into some servers to retrieve some sensitive information; nothing you haven’t done before. You put your headphones on and blast some music to drown out any background noise and help you focus on finishing the task at hand.

As you’re working through your to do list, you didn’t realize how fast time flew by. The once early morning sun has now set into the late evening. You’re continuously tapping away on your keyboard, your eyes glued to the screens in front you. You’re so hyper focused you don’t realize someone is watching you from the doorframe of your office.

Suddenly you feel a hand squeeze your shoulder. You shriek so hard that your headphones fly off your head and you leap so high out of your chair that it flips over, making you fall backwards to the ground. As you’re trying to get back up, you look to the culprit and see Steve scrambling to help you up. He grabs you by your arms and pulls you up in one swift motion, all while apologizing profusely.

“Oh god I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, are you ok? I was calling your name but you couldn’t hear me so I tried to get your attention.” Steve rambles while analyzing you, looking for injuries.

You sigh a breath of relief and rub your head, already feeling a bump forming from the fall.

“It’s fine Steve. What do you want?” you answer coldly.

“Look, I wanted to apologize. I’m really sorry for how i’ve been acting. I don’t understand a fraction of what you do or how you do it and I have no idea how to lead you through the missions. I was frustrated and took it out on you. It’s not right and I’m sorry.” Steve says, blue eyes boring into yours, swirling with pleading sadness, begging to be forgiven.

“I get it Steve. I do, and I accept your apology. However, you understand that I don’t need guidance right? The internet, hacking, technology in general is my life. All I need from you is to lead, to tell me what to do and when and I’ll do it but if there is something else that I can do to help the team further or save you, I will do it. Whether you like it or not, I know the consequences of my actions and I know what I’m doing. I trust you. The real question is, do you trust me?”

“I— I do. I will. from now, I will trust you and your instincts. I promise. You’re part of the team now and I will treat you as an equal like I treat everyone else.”

“Good. Thank you for being honest with me and clearing this up. Let’s start over.”

“Deal. Thank you Y/N.”

“Just don’t piss me off again or I’ll make it way worse for you than a few simple alarms and blaring red lights in your room as payback.” you smirk at him and wink.

He rolls his eyes and smile “Understood, scouts honour.” He salutes you jokingly and walks out with a quick goodbye.

You decide to call it a night and close up your office for the day. You walk to the kitchen and realize you haven’t eaten all day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you reach the kitchen and start making yourself a quick sandwich you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Hey there Cyberpunk, what are you up too? You disappeared all day today.” Bucky says as he sits next to you on a kitchen bar stool.

“I was working on some things Tony needed. I didn’t realize how time flew by. I haven’t eaten yet so i’m just making a quick snack.”

“You didn’t take a single break? How did you not eat, drink, go to the bathroom?…” Bucky looks at you with a concerned look.

“Um, no, not really. I tend to get really hyper focused on my tasks, especially when my brain is in overdrive. It’s kind of like a coping mechanism. I escape into my own cyber world and I don’t leave until my body basically wakes me up.” You say nonchalantly.

“Well, not anymore. Not on my watch.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask while giggling.

“I have decided to make it my job to make sure that you’re taking enough breaks, eating, drinking water, going outside for some fresh air…”

“You don’t have to do that. I like my little cyber-cave. It’s my space, it’s fine.”

“Doll, you are stubborn.” he chuckles to you as he playfully pushes his shoulder against yours.

You reply with a scoff as you finish making your snack.

"You're too cute to treat yourself like this. Let me take care of you for a bit, I want to help."

You stare at him in disbelief.

Is he... flirting with me? There's no chance James Buchanan Barnes is flirting with me. He's just being nice to me. With women like Natasha around him, there is no way he would even look my way. I'm a freaking nerd, a computer geek that stays indoors all day and hides from the world through the internet. The other women in the compound are gorgeous with the perfect bodies to match. I'm not exactly the most fit, I can't even jog for more than 10 seconds without my lungs hurting. I dress is loose comfortable clothes, my hair is always in either a messy bun or air dried to let its natural pattern go free. I put minimal makeup at most because I'm alone indoors all day. Remember, no emotions. It's all in your head. Focus Y/N. He is just being polite and welcoming as you're a new team member.

Your thoughts are running a mile a minute as Bucky is looking into your eyes, waiting for an answer. You must have been staring at him for too long because Bucky asked you if something was wrong.

"No I um - i'm good. Just exhausted. Long day. Thanks for keeping me company for a bit. I have to go now, bye." you say awkwardly as you grab ur plate of food and scurry to your room.

"Hey, wait where are you going?" Bucky questions as he sees you run off.

You ignore him and quicken your pace. Your heart is racing. You reach your room and close the door behind you as you let out a huge sigh of relief.

Why am I so awkward? Why can't I just have a normal conversation with him? He's too damn gorgeous thats why. How can I not be attracted to him? He's built like a greek god with these captivating blue eyes and that dark hair that you just want to run your fingers through - stop it. No no no stop that right now. If you develop a crush on him, you will only get hurt. You're being delusional. He doesn't like you. Look at yourself.

You stare at yourself in the mirror.

What could he possibly be attracted to? The dark circles under my eyes? My messy hair? My loose fitting clothes that give me no shape whatsoever? It's not like my body is perfect either. I have stretch marks, I'm not fit, I don't have abs by any means, my arms are not muscular or toned, my thighs are large.... I do have a nice ass and some great boobs, I will admit.

Bucky is a man that goes for super model type women. Not computer nerds that eat take out almost religiously and never leave their computer chair except to go to the bathroom. I think the most steps i've done in an entire day is 500. Who am i kidding? Why am I doing this to myself? Just stop. Focus on work, nothing else. This will only lead to more and more heartbreak that I just can't take anymore.

There is so much they don't know about me. They can't know. I've worked so hard to erase it from the world all together, to make myself disappear into thin air, to hardly exist. I know Tony is probably trying to deep dive into my past and find some trace of who I am and where I'm from but I know I've gotten rid of it all years ago and I plan on keeping it that way.

Start of flashback

You're hiding under your desk in your room, shaking as you hear your parents screaming at each other in the kitchen. You had accidentally dropped a plate and it crashed to the floor, pieces flying everywhere which had caused your father to erupt in a rage. He stalked towards you as a slew of insults that have been repeated to you over the years flew from his mouth: worthless, stupid, waste of life, ugly. You name it, he said it.

Taking out his anger on you, leaving you no chance to breathe until your mother pried his hands off of you while screaming for him to stop. As soon as he let go of you, you had run to your room where you're now hiding. You can feel the blood leaking from your nose and lip, one eye almost shut so tight you can hardly see out of it. You grabbed your phone and dialed 911 - terrified as to what your father might do, especially if he found out you had called the cops on him. The first responder tells you to stay where you are and keep the phone open. As you're about to reply, your door swings open and your father storms in. He rips you out from your desk and drags you to the kitchen again. You're too scared to even scream or cry.

He throws you to the floor, on the pieces of glass that remained on the floor from the broken plate you had dropped. The shards cut your hands and knees and crush into your skin. All you can do is lay there and pray that the first responder heard the scene unfold and sent police officers to your address. You're waiting to be saved, you feel helpless as always, you just want to get out.

You watch as your father punches your mother unconscious. You watch in fear as he approaches you and laughs. He tells you that this is all your fault. You watch him pull out his gun and point it as your mother who is laying on the floor lifeless. You scream as you lunge towards him to stop him but it was too late. The shot resonated throughout the tiny apartment with a sharp thud as you jumped him.

You wrestled him with all your might, grabbing a shard of glass from the floor and stabbing it into his thigh. He screamed in agony and cursed at you, punching you hard and sending you flying across the floor. You scramble to get up as you watch him point the gun to you this time. You make a split second decision and duck as you tackle his waist and force him to the ground. Wrestling again, you manage to grab the gun that is pointed at you and turn it the other way, facing your fathers chest directly. You look him in the eye as you tell him that his reign of terror has ended and you pull the trigger. You keep pulling the trigger until you hear the gun click.

You get up and look at yourself, covered in blood. Your father’s lifeless body laying there in a pool of his own blood. You hear the sirens and realize what you've done. You have to get out, now.

You grab everything you can and you run. You wash your hands, arms and chest in a pond in the forest you ran into and changed your clothes. Grabbing a pair of scissors in your bag you cut your hair to change your appearance. You take one look back at your apartment, now covered with flashing red and blue lights. You turn around and head into the forest, never looking back again.

You had found yourself in a homeless shelters for 4 years. Continuously dying your hair different colours and moving around from shelter to shelter. You had to because you were too recognizable, with a deep scar slashing across your lip and multiple scars littering the plans of your hands- a final gift from your father. When you couldn’t find a new shelter to stay at, the alleys outside were your best bet. Stealing food from trash cans and people’s lunches when they weren’t paying attention is how you survived. Keeping your appearance hidden and constantly different is how you evaded the cops. You were a missing person and a person of interest in the case of your parents. You had to get out of here to make it out alive. You decide to hop on a train and never look back.

When you woke up to the train halting to a stop. You look outside and realize you’re now in New York. You jump off the train and make your way to the city.

One day, at another random shelter, you met someone who ended up teaching you your way around computers. One thing led to another and you were a cyber whiz with an online community, making money off of rich assholes by hacking into their bank accounts and stealing some money they would never even notice was missing. You managed to get yourself a small shitty apartment, but you welcomed it as anything is better than the streets and shelters.

Once you were settled in a makeshift homb- the same home which the Avengers gracefully kidnapped you from - you decided you had to find a way to kill the old you and let the new you stay hidden.

You figured out a way to erase yourself from the world. You hacked into the government system and erased all documents pertaining to you; your birth certificate, medical records, dental records, school enrollments; everything. You manufactured one item and left it in the system for good measure; a death certificate. Nobody would search for a dead girl.

End of Flashback

You don't notice that you've sunken to the floor, shaking as you bring your knees up to your chest. Sobbing quietly as the horrific memory haunts your mind. You beg to whoever and whatever is listening to you for forgiveness. You beg to have your life taken from you. Your fathers dying words replaying in your mind forever: Worthless, stupid, waste of life.

Maybe he's right.

You hold yourself tighter as you continue crying, balled up on the floor until you fell asleep from exhaustion.

———————————————————————————-

Part 4

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag List:

@unaxv

@winterslove1917

[irondadfics]

I read a fic a while back and I wanna reread it. Basically Spider-Man Bucky and the avengers are all fighting and Bucky gets stuck under some rubble so Peter is talking to him and keeping him calm and he talks about how he got trapped under the warehouse by vulture and he doesn’t know the cons are open so the rest of the team can hear him. I think it’s a one shot on ao3

This is for you

Trauma Bonding by MARVELously3000

Bucky gets stuck under a collapsed building. Peter comes to help since he just might know a thing or two about getting crushed underneath one himself. Or: Shared trauma might just be the thing to save the day.

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 4: Fly Me to the Moon

Summary: In your worst moment, Wanda is there for you. 

Warnings: Trigger Warning—car accident, blood, injuries, hospital, surgery.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This was an intense chapter. 😭 Shoutout to @arlana-likes-to-write for helping me with some dialogue at the end.

Guardian Angel Masterlist

On this gloomy Friday morning, you came to the decision that if you had a superpower, it would be the ability to fly. You could effortlessly soar above the annoying traffic and get to work on time. However, the sad reality is that you are no superhero. You can barely work the defroster in your car.

This morning, you woke up to the realization that your alarm had failed to go off. You had overslept and were now rushing to get ready for work. You had to forego your usual morning routine of sipping on coffee and listening to relaxing music, which usually helped you start your day on a positive note. Instead, you took a hurried shower and got dressed as quickly as you could. You had to get out of the door as soon as possible to avoid getting stuck in the morning traffic. The rain outside only added to your sense of urgency. As you drove across town, you couldn't help but worry about getting to work on time. The Candy Bar had recently become increasingly busy, especially with the start of the holiday season. You were hesitant to leave Harper to handle the rush all by herself.

Rain lashed against your windshield. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth over the window of your black Honda Acura, attempting to clear away the large droplets clinging to the glass. Wary of the number of cars around, you gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. As you approached the intersection of Second Avenue and Crosby Street, your traffic light turned green. You began to cross the threshold of the intersection when suddenly, a green car to your right rushed through the intersection at full speed, presumably trying to beat the red light. It happened so fast that you barely saw it coming out of the corner of your eye. You quickly slammed on the brakes and tried to turn the car to avoid a direct collision. The sound of your car's screeching brakes and tires skidding on the wet pavement shattered the silence of the street. In that split second, images of your life flashed across your mind like a slideshow. You saw yourself as a child, your high school graduation, your first day of college, and the day you opened The Candy Bar. All these moments seemed to flash before your eyes as you struggled to regain control of your car. But it was too late. Your car was struck with a tremendous force, causing it to flip once, then twice before landing upside down in the middle of the street. The last thing you remembered before the airbag deployed was the sound of shattering glass and the distant sound of cars piling up. Everything went black after that.

*^~^*

Natasha was undeterred by bad weather. She ran like clockwork every morning, converting her emotional pain into miles covered. She had a warrior spirit that never quit and knew that training was the key to success. Even off the clock, her training stayed with her, making her more alert, confident, and always on the lookout for vulnerabilities.

Maria was better at compartmentalization. Outside of work, a run was a run. That’s why when they both awoke this morning to the relaxing sound of rain, she was keen to skip the run and cuddle in bed with Nat just a bit longer. Unfortunately, she did not win that argument. Which is how she found herself running down the street next to her better half in the rain; hoodie pulled tight over her head. The soundtrack of their morning was the splish splash of their running shoes as they pounded through the puddles that had formed along their usual route. 

"Let's go one more block, and then we'll head back," Natasha shouted over the sound of the rain.

"Thank God," Maria whispered.

“What was that, malyshka?”

"Sure thing, sweetheart!" Maria replied, giving a thumbs up.

Amid a peaceful moment, a sudden, piercing screech shattered the tranquility. The two women turned their attention to the noise and were met with the terrifying sight of a black car hydroplaning wildly out of control through the nearby intersection. Their breaths caught in their throats as they watched in horror as a green car, careening recklessly from the opposite direction, slammed into the driver's side door of the spinning vehicle. The black car was sent flying, rolling twice before coming to a rest upside down in the center of the street. The sickening sound of metal bending and glass shattering echoed eerily through the rain-slicked air as multiple cars piled up behind it as if they had all hit an invisible brick wall.

"Call it in!" yelled Maria.

*^~^*

After dropping her boys off at school, Wanda pulled into her driveway when a call came through on her Bluetooth. She quickly answered the call from FRIDAY's interface, displaying the compound's number.

“Ms. Maximoff, there has been a multi-vehicle accident approximately 2.3 miles from your current location. There are possible fatalities and multiple injuries. The team is on the way and requires your assistance.”

“On my way.”

As soon as Wanda landed on the scene, she could see chaos around her. Bruce had arrived and was frantically setting up triage to tend to the injured. At the same time, Maria was busy establishing a secure perimeter to keep the bystanders at a safe distance. As emergency services rushed to the scene, the sound of distant sirens could be heard in the background, growing louder with each passing moment. Onlookers had gathered, their faces etched with worry and fear, as they watched the unfolding events with a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Where do you need me?”  Wanda asked.

That car took the worst of it,” Natasha interjected, pointing to the overturned black vehicle in the intersection. “See if you can help Stark with the driver!” 

Wanda sprinted to the scene and arrived at the car just as Tony touched down, quickly scanning for a heat signature.

“One occupant. Female, early 30s, multiple internal injuries, vital signs ready,” FRIDAY announced.

Wanda crouched down to ground level and tried to peer through the broken window. Droplets of water ran down her skin, making it difficult to see. Her breath left her body as she finally took in the sight before her. You were still strapped into the driver's seat; the airbag deflated in front of you like an old balloon. Blood was trickling slowly down the side of your bruised and battered face. Wanda stood up and frantically tried to open the upside-down door, but the frame was poorly bent out of alignment. 

"Whoa, Red! What are you doing? There's a safer way," Tony shouted.

“I know her!” Wanda yelled.

A repulsor ray from Iron Man’s hand quickly cut through the hinge of the car door. Wanda reached inside and unbuckled you from the seat. A trail of blood followed you across the pavement as she carefully slid your unconscious body from the car.

"Please don't do this to me, y/n. I can still feel you," Wanda said, her voice trembling.

Sam quickly rushed to your side and applied pressure to your stomach wound, tapping into his military training. "I've got you, Wanda. Cap and Bucky need your help."

The redhead looked over to see two super soldiers working to pry twisted metal apart to free other drivers from their cars. She then glanced back down at you, her breathing uneven as she hesitated, not wanting to leave your side.

"Friday, please contact the nearest Level One Trauma Center and inform them of the situation," Tony instructed.

“Go!” Sam exclaimed.

Wanda swiftly cleared the debris from the center of the pile-up. Her magic making quick work of the scene and created a path for Steve and Bucky to reach the other victims. The relentless rain showed no signs of letting up, causing water to collect around the wreckage. After an eternity, Wanda finally returned to you, navigating through the maze of broken and battered cars. As she approached, she could see that you were still lying motionless on the ground, a few feet from your vehicle. Meanwhile, Sam and Yelena were working frantically to save you. Sam was applying pressure to your abdominal wound while Yelena was administering CPR. They were so focused on keeping you alive that they failed to notice the fuel leaking from your gas tank.

“Sam, Yelena!” she screamed.

Your car ignited in a flash of fire just as Wanda reached you again. The bright flash hit her eyes just before the force of the explosion knocked the three of them back. She acted purely on instinct, containing the explosion in a sphere of glowing red energy. Dropping to the ground in exhaustion as the blast was diffused.

"Well done," Steve praised as he helped Wanda to her feet.

"Where are the first responders, Hill?" asked Bruce.

“The rain and the pile-up are making it difficult to get through. I’m working on it.” Maria said.

“She can’t wait. We need to get her out of here now,” Sam cautioned, removing his undershirt and packing your wound.

“I’ve got a pulse,” Yelena announced.

"St. Peter’s is the closest hospital," Kate said.

“I’ll clear a path,” Clint offered. 

"No," Tony interrupted. "Take her to the compound. Get her to the MedBay. I'll notify Helen." He locked eyes with Wanda.

She looked into Tony's eyes, searching for insincerity, but found none.

“FRIDAY, run an X-ray and CT scan to assess spinal stability,” he ordered.

“The spine is stable, boss,” FRIDAY replied.

“Take her,” Tony ordered.

Wanda picked you up tenderly and vanished into the weeping grey sky. If she hastened, she could reach the compound within five minutes. Wanda prayed silently that you would hold on for that long.

A sharp intake of breath brought you around as searing pain surged through your broken body. A mixture of blood and water hit your tastebuds. Your vision was blurry and your hair was falling wetly in front of your eyes, but you could just make out Wanda’s face staring down at you. Her eyes began to glow red, and you felt the same sense of calm wash over you as the day you met her. 

“Stay with me, Y/N. We’re almost there.”

Your eyes grew heavy as you succumbed to unconsciousness once more.

*^~^*

“Concussion, ruptured spleen, two cracked ribs, shattered collarbone, collapsed lung, fractured ankle.” 

As Wanda stood there with tears in her eyes, her hands instinctively flew to her mouth, trying to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. She couldn't bring herself to accept what she was hearing, but as Dr. Cho went on reciting the list of injuries you had sustained, the harsh reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

“She’s in surgery right now. We can regenerate the damaged tissue with the cradle once she is stable. The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous, but with the severity and number of injuries, it will take some time. Y/N will have a long road ahead of her to recovery.”

Wanda nodded, too afraid to say anything that might cause her to break down.

“Do you know if she has any family we should notify?” Helen asked.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper. 

“It’s going to be a long day. You look exhausted. Why don’t you try and get some rest?” Helen suggested, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I’ll have Friday notify you when there is an update.” 

“No, no, I’ll stay. I need to call Darcy to see if she can pick up the boys from school, but I’ll stay. I want to be here when she wakes up,” Wanda said somberly. 

Helen nodded in understanding before turning and walking back into the Operating Room. The redhead sat on the sofa in the corner of the Med Bay, unable to process everything that had transpired in the last hour. Her mind replays the image of your broken figure lying upside down and motionless in your car. She glanced down at the drops of your blood staining her shirt; the shock prevented her from feeling anything.

The sound of the rain outside continued to fill the room as Wanda sat in the compound waiting room. Nurses and doctors walked in and out, their faces unfamiliar to her. She sat there, anxiously watching the clock as one hour turned into two and then three. Suddenly, a text message from Darcy lit up her phone, offering to help with the boys for as long as she needed. Wanda felt grateful for the offer and quickly sent a reply thanking her. She took off her coat and balled it up to create a makeshift pillow. She curled up on one end of the sofa and let her gaze linger on the operating room door. The redhead felt her eyelids grow heavy, and she fell asleep within minutes.

A gentle nudge on her shoulder woke Wanda after half an hour. She looked up to see Sam and Yelena standing nearby.

“Mhmm, what are you guys doing here?” She murmured. 

“We wanted to see how she was doing,” Sam said.

“Y/N”

“Y/N,” Sam repeated.

“How is she?” Yelena asked, taking a seat beside her.

I don't know," she said, dragging her hands down her tired face. "I spoke to Helen when they first brought her into the OR, but I haven't heard anything since. She's in pretty bad shape," tears threatening to fall again. "What happened after I left the scene? Were there any casualties?

“No, thankfully.” Sam shared. There were a few other serious injuries: broken back, internal bleeding, severe whiplash. The first responders could get through a couple of minutes after you left. Hill wants to meet with law enforcement to discuss working together to improve response times.”

Wanda struggled to speak, her words catching in her throat. "Thank you for what you both did for her," she finally managed to say.

Noticing your blood on her shirt, Sam placed his hand on Wanda's thigh and said, "I'll be back with a change of clothes for you."

"Can I ask how you know y/n?" Yelena asked softly once they were alone.

“She was… is, the woman I helped in the café, and I bought the candy for Billy and Tommy’s birthday from her sweet shop.”

“I see,” Yelena said. “Does she know you have feelings for her?” 

Wanda was baffled as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, little witch. Don’t tell me you are that deep in denial?" she said, her voice laced with disbelief and concern. "We risk our lives daily to help people survive the worst moment. We are trained to do so with composure and presence of mind because otherwise, we risk letting our emotions affect our actions in the field," she continued. “You can't argue with that - it's the truth. I’ve fought alongside you for almost three years, and in all that time, I’ve never seen you react the way you did today. You care for her," the blonde said, her tone softening.

Wanda averted her gaze from Yelena, fixing it on an imaginary point on the dull white wall right in front of her.

“I barely know her,” Wanda sighed. “She doesn’t know me at all. Honestly, I’m not sure she should,” a single tear rolling down her cheek that she quickly wiped away.

“That is what you think, not what she thinks. Let her in. Sooner rather than later,” placing a loving hand on her arm.

"Wanda?" Helen interjected softly as she walked out of the operating room.

The redhead stood up anxiously. “Y/N is out of surgery and stable. It was touch and go at times, but she pulled through. She’s still under, but you can sit with her if you’d like. She's in Room 4.”

“Thank you, Helen. Thank you,” hugging Helen before looking back at Yelena.

“Go on, I’ll wait here.”

*^~^*

Wanda took a deep breath before opening the door to your room. The sight that greeted her was heartbreaking. Your face had bruises, and your hair was unkempt. You had a nasal cannula on your face, and there were several butterfly stitches. Your left arm was in a sling, and your right leg was in a cast below the knee, propped up gently on a pillow.

Despite your physical appearance, you looked peaceful. If it weren't for the steady beep of the heart rate monitor, she might've thought you were only sleeping. The redhead took a seat at your bedside, unable to take her eyes off you. Wanda could hardly believe she was sitting here. Three weeks ago, she didn't even know you existed. Now she was sitting in your dreary grey hospital room, praying you would wake up soon.

A young nurse walked into the room with a tablet in her hand. She recorded your vital signs and acknowledged Wanda's presence with a nod and a sympathetic smile. After leaving the room, Wanda was left alone with her anxious thoughts. She replayed your two brief encounters in her head and began to worry about your recovery. She couldn't recall you mentioning any family or significant other, which made her concerned about what your recovery would look like if it was true that you were all alone.

As you slowly started to stir, a barely audible groan broke Wanda from her trance. Hearing the sound, her head snapped in your direction. You felt heavy and broken all over your body, and when you tried to shift slightly, everything hurt. Gradually, the blinding light subsided, and you began to take in your surroundings, but you had no idea where you were or how you got there. Panic started to set in before a soft, sweet voice met your ears.

“Y/N, hey, hey… it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.” grasping your hand.

You turned your head and saw Wanda's beautiful green eyes.

“Wanda?” Tears form in your eyes. “What happened? Where am I? What are you—?” Your raspy voice cracked and set you into a coughing fit. Wanda reached across your body and grabbed a cup of water sitting on the bedside table. Helping you to sit up slowly, she held the cup to your lips as you took small sips. She rubbed gentle circles on your back as the coughing subsided and your lungs relaxed.

“Easy, easy.. that’s it,” helping you lay back down. “You were in a car accident, y/n, but I promise you’ll be okay. You’re in the MedBay. It’s the hospital wing of the Avengers compound.” You stared at her for a few moments. Your brain was fuzzy, and you were having trouble understanding everything she was saying to you, “Avengers comp—what?” your voice hoarse and tired.

“I’ll get Dr. Cho,” reaching for your call button. 

"No, no, wait, just wait," she did. She said you were in the Avengers compound, but that means, no, that's impossible. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t recognized her before. "You're an Avenger," you said slowly, her green eyes cast downwards to avoid looking at you. "Right?" You questioned when her silence wasn't a good enough answer. "That's the only way they would allow me in here."

"I am," she finally spoke but her eyes remained trained on the ground. "But I didn't want you to find out." You were a little taken aback by her confession. The stories that surrounded the Avengers were nothing short of heroic. 

"Why wouldn't you want me to find out?" You questioned, voice barely above a whisper. "Being an Avenger is amazing. You are a hero. You-" you trailed off as you watched the woman sink into herself. "Wanda, why didn't you want me to know?" Sighing, she bit her lip and looked up at you. 

"Does the town of Westview, New Jersey, mean anything to you?" 

*Chapter 5 coming soon*

[yourtearsaremyink]

It's Just This Once

Chapter 1

Hey everyone! This is my first post. This work is finished but I will be uploading the chapters weekly. (I don't really know how Tumblr works so if y'all have suggestions or tips let me know)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Not many. Bucky and his PTSD, my life choices to write this, nightmares, Bucky's regret and self hatred. Idk. There's not even language in this thing its mostly fluff.

Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, she has healing powers and uses them to patch up the rest of the team. Bucky never asks her to use her healing powers on him, except once.

Chapter Word Count: 1,912

Chapter 1: Take the Pain Away

Y/N was working in her little corner of the medical wing of the newly built Avengers Compound. All was right in her little world, well as right as her world could be since reappearing after a five year absence. 

Everyone was trying their hardest to go back to normal but adapting to a life without Steve, Tony, and Natasha was far from it. Shortly before Tony and Steve's fallout, Y/N was recruited by Fury to join the Avengers Initiative. He had somehow figured out she was an enhanced and convinced her to join the team. She had hid her abilities so well in the past she had no idea how a man she had never met before found out about them. Y/N had the extraordinary ability to heal others, it had taken an insane amount of time, energy, and focus to master her powers. With the help of Wanda she had also been able to unlock another talent. She had intuition that was insanely on point so she could guide her teammates on their missions. Natasha had taught her some martial arts moves and Steve taught her how to protect herself in a fight. Y/N soon became part of the family and finally found a place where she belonged, but after a few billion people came back from nothingness, her family seemed to narrow down. She had fought in the battle against Thanos and tried, had really tried, to heal Tony with her powers but in the end it wasn't enough. She couldn't help but feel a little responsible for his death. When the battle was over and Steve left to be with the love of his life, he left so many friends behind. If Y/N couldn't heal Tony's physical wounds, maybe she could heal the emotional wounds he and Steve left behind. 

Shortly after the battle she became close with the remaining Avengers. She helped guide Sam on missions as the new Captain America, she comforted Wanda after her little outburst in Westview, she even got to know Bucky a bit more. Sam had convinced him to live at the new Compound with him instead of being alone in an old apartment in Brooklyn. Every so often Sam and Bucky would limp into the med bay in need of healing. She had healed Sam several times and Wanda a few but never Bucky. He always said she shouldn't waist her energy on him, and she always replied with, "It's no trouble at all, it doesn't take that much energy." Bucky would brush it off and say his advanced healing would take care of his injuries in no time. She never really pushed it, considering what he's been through with people messing with his body, it didn't surprise her when he didn't want to be helped.

Today was nothing unusual when Sam came into the med bay with an arm around Bucky and the other around his side. Y/N hopped up from the seat at her desk and began walking to the two men.

"What did you do this time?"

"This idiot took a bullet for me." Bucky spoke up as he helped Sam into a bed.

"Hey don't be mad at me for saving your life." Sam snapped back. He was taking off part of his uniform so Y/N could assess the injury properly.

"I have better healing than you, I would have been just fine." Bucky countered.

"I'll be fine! I have the best healer in the world right here, right doc?" Sam shot a quick smirk at Y/N as she started to heal him. A light purple glow emitted from her hands as she closed the wound on Sam's torso.

"Just because I can heal you in seconds doesn't mean you can be reckless."

Sam's smirk faded as Bucky gave a short "Ha" in victory. Y/N noticed Bucky was holding his left arm with his right and had a few bruises on his face.

"I could always heal you too Bucky if you need it."

"It's fine doll, these bruises will be gone in a couple hours." He said as he gestured to his face. Y/N turned her attention back to Sam as she finished up her work.

"All done." She said as she removed her hands. "Go clean up, Wanda and I are making dinner soon."

She grabbed a cloth and wiped some of the blood off her hands.

"You're the best doc. " Sam gave her a quick hug and headed out with Bucky. As they left she saw how tight the muscles in Bucky's were. With all of the experience Y/N had with healing people, she was able to see how much he was hurting. It could just be the stress of the mission so she didn't think much of it. 

Later that evening while Y/N was cooking with Wanda, she once again noticed Bucky. At this point she couldn't tell if it was just stress or flat out pain. Sam was tapping away at his laptop sending a report on the mission to Fury. He didn't seem to notice the tight expression Bucky was wearing. Bucky was absentmindedly rubbing his left shoulder where metal met flesh, he looked exhausted.

"You good Buck?"

He glanced up at her removing his hand from his shoulder and said,

"Yeah, I'm fine. " with a half hearted smile.

She hoped that a warm meal would help. Y/N loved to cook, especially with Wanda, she loved seeing people's faces when they ate the food she made. Pretty much everyone else was away from the compound so it was just the four of them. Wanda had suggested they make soup since Autumn came out of nowhere and settled in New York. They set the table and listened to Sam talk about the mission he and Bucky had just endured. Bucky let Sam do all the talking for once and kept quite happily enjoying the warm food. The creases in his features slowly melted away as he finished the soup. Once the story was finished and the dining room was cleaned up, everyone said their goodnights and started off to their rooms, all expect Y/N.

"You're not going to sleep?" Wanda had asked when she saw Y/N going towards the elevator instead of her room.

"I have some work left to finish since I was so rudely interrupted earlier." She had turned her head to Sam with a smile.

"Hey don't come at me." He said with his hands up in a surrendering gesture as he walked to his room.

She gave a small laugh, "Goodnight guys." 

Y/N headed down to her lab and picked up where she left off. She was running some lab work on some blood samples when she heard thunder shake the building. It startled her enough for her to nearly drop her test tube. Soon after she heard rain begin to pound on the walls of the Compound. She glanced at the clock as it struck 1:00 am.

"Just a little longer." She whispered as she resumed her work. 

Bucky was sitting in his bed when he heard Thunder boom outside his window. He hadn't slept since coming to his room, too stressed from the mission and in too much pain. He knew the rain was coming, he felt it in his bones, but that didn't make it any less unsettling. He truly felt like an old man knowing rain was coming by the way his prosthetic arm felt. The mission had caused a few unpleasant memories to resurface and that made his mind uneasy. All of that combined together resulted in a dull headache and an unbearable amount of phantom pain in his left arm. His shoulder was throbbing and it felt as if he was being stabbed by a hundred needles where his metal arm occupied where his flesh should be. His breathing was laboured and heavy, he was so close to a panic attack it wasn't even funny. The weather hadn't helped either, it made him feel cold and achey. He tried so hard to keep it together but the pain became too much. He needed relief and there was one person he could think of to help. He hated the idea of Y/N using her healing powers on him when she could use them for something much more valuable. He didn't want to inconvenience her with his pain but it was becoming agonizing. He sat and thought it over for a few more minutes when he finally caved and made his way down to her lab. He stood at the door and sighed,

"It's just this once."

Y/N was just about finished when she heard a small knock at the lab entrance. She got up and walked towards the door, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky when she opened it. He stood with his hand clutching his metal shoulder, his hair was unkempt and he had bags under his eyes.

"Hey, I thought you went to bed. Is everything okay?"

"Uh, not really. I hate to ask you this, especially this late, but-"

Suddenly thunder echoed through the lab and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and his breath began to shake, using his hand to add more pressure to his shoulder.

"My shoulder hurts, and my arm too kinda." He looked down not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Like phantom pain?" She questioned

"Y-yeah, it feels like pins and needles. The vibranium feels heavy."

"Are you asking me to help you?" She asked in disbelief.

"I-if you don't want to that's fine I can manage."

"No, no come in, sit down."

She led him to one of the beds and guided his hand off his shoulder, eager to work on the one person she hadn't helped.

He winced in pain as he moved, his hand letting up the pressure it was omitting on his upper arm.

"Sorry," she stepped back for a second, "I need you to take off your shirt." In the dimly lit lab she could see him blush a little. "It'll be better if I have direct contact to the skin."

He complied, slowly and painfully taking off his blue Henley. She walked around to the side of the bed to begin.

"I'm just going to put my hands on your shoulder, okay?"

He gave a very tight nod and she began. Her hands danced across the mess of scar tissue where metal crept into his skin. She couldn't help but felt bad for what Hydra did to him. His breath hitched but his back slowly became more relaxed. She could feel his heart rate slowing and his breath even out.

"I'm halfway done, are you okay? " she was concerned. She had never been able to do this for Bucky before and didn't know how he'd react.

"Mhmm." he seemed content.

She stopped and moved to his front to place her hands on his collar bone. She tried not to make it too awkward by making eye contact but she glanced up anyway and met his blue eyes. They both quickly looked away and Y/N turned her attention back to his arm. She stopped when she felt she couldn't do anything more to help with the pain.

"Done, does that feel better?"

He immediately brought her in for a hug and whispered a quite,

"Thank you."

She hugged back happily,

"You're welcome."

It gets better I promise. It was originally a one shot but it evolved.

[5ummit]

It’s been 7 years since Civil War and I still mourn for the Bucky Barnes story we should’ve gotten.

I mourn for how quickly they showed him integrated back into society after CATWS. One moment he’s almost killing his best friend... and the next moment he’s living on his own and seems just fine. Sure, he’s a little quiet and awkward and sad, but he’s mostly pretty normal. Outside of the first half of Civil War, there’s very little evidence at all that would lead anyone to believe Bucky used to be the world’s most feared assassin, who was trained and molded into the perfect weapon through unimaginable pain and psychological manipulation. This man spent the better part of his life as a ruthless, mindless killing machine programmed to do nothing more than follow orders. You don’t just walk away from that without being fundamentally and irreversibly psychologically altered. Even the removal of the trigger words wouldn’t change that.

To clarify, I’m not talking about his lingering feelings of guilt and sadness. I think Seb has done a great job with getting that part across at least. I’m talking about his behavior. About way he interacts with other people and how he handles situations. He doesn’t act like a formerly-brainwashed ex-assassin who was treated as less than human for literal decades and who, by all accounts, should have the most severe form of PTSD known to man.

I just don’t buy the Bucky we see post-CATWS and particularly post-Civil-War. I don’t buy that Bucky would be joking around and flirting and basically acting like Just Some Guy – a grumpy guy but still Just Some Guy – and his recent haircut sure isn’t helping the situation either. That he wouldn’t always be a little bit on edge, a little bit animal (kinda like the way we see him at the beginning of Civil War but then never again). That being in the heat of battle wouldn’t sometimes make him either shut down or completely snap and go into a violent fugue state where he subconsciously reverts back to the brutally efficient methods of the Winter Soldier (we almost got this in TFATWS but they couldn’t commit).

Now maybe he received some absolutely incredible therapy in Wakanda. Maybe it worked wonders on him! The problem is I don’t buy it because I never saw it. I never got to see him struggle to learn how to be a person again. I never got to see him fight back against the thing Hydra turned him into.

It just sucks because I love everything about the concept of Bucky and the Winter Soldier, but the parts they’ve chosen not to show or address are, in my opinion, the most interesting parts of his character. But more than that, the lack of follow through and disconnect between what he was and who he seems to be now makes it really hard for me to see him as a fully-realized person in canon. It’s like my brain registers perfectly who he was in CATFA/CATWS and even kinda sorta now in TFATWS, but there’s this giant chasm in between them that mentally feels like fuzzy static.

How long did it take him to fully shake off the brainwashing and conditioning? When did he start thinking of himself as a human being with agency again? Did he ever have to fight the desire to return to Hydra, the only thing he’s known for 70 years, or was it an easy choice? How long did it take him to start recovering his memories? Has he recovered all of them? Does he now remember everything that happened before and during his time at Hydra? How long did it take him to stop flinching at every sound and expecting Hydra to track him down? How long did it take him to relearn how to interact with people like a normal person? How did he afford food and shelter between CATWS and CACW? How and why did he end up in Romania? Did he travel there immediately after CATWS or did he live somewhere else first? Did he get actual therapy in Wakanda or did they just work their science-magic to remove the trigger words and send him on his way? Is the the soldier still in there? Does he still have to consciously stop himself from using deadly force every time he’s in a fight? Is that why he deliberately avoids carrying any weapons now?

I have so many questions.

Fortunately we have fic and fanon to help fill the void but we shouldn’t have to. Bucky Barnes is one of the most interesting and unique characters to ever exist. There’s so much good stuff to dig into here and it’s been wasted.

They squandered the original opportunity to explore this part of his character when they turned Cap 3 into an Iron Man film, a decision I will forever be mad about (fuck you RDJ/Tony for stealing Bucky’s movie), but they finally had the perfect chance to make up for that with TFATWS! Bucky was getting his own show (6 hours of content!), and with it, plenty of time to really dig into his psyche and lingering trauma! I had hoped to see him relapsing a bit and falling into old patterns. Or maybe being triggered by something and having a panic attack. Or even just talking about his time in Hydra and how it felt to be used like that and his struggles to regain his humanity afterwards (instead they fucking gave Hawkeye the emotional “I was a weapon” speech that Bucky rightfully deserved). But other than that opening nightmare, a few brief teasing lines from Zemo about the solider still being in there (which was never followed through on), and the shittiest excuse for “therapy” I’ve ever seen, we really got nothing.

From everything they’ve shown us, and particularly from the ending of TFATWS, it’s clear Marvel believes Bucky has already “healed” and there’s little left to discuss or explore and it makes me incredibly sad.