#soldier keeping on marching on // bucky ic.

[enduranceofsurvival]

surprise visitor

open starter: bucky barnes

open to marvel muses canon/ocs or modern crossovers

It was late, 4 maybe 5 am. Not that Bucky really tended to sleep much these days anyway. If the former soldier wasn't plagued by nightmares he was usually restless and fighting to sleep. On those restless nights in particular, if he didn't succeed he'd get up for a distraction instead.

So it wasn't unusually for him to be silently wandering around in the early hours. No what was unusual was the "guest" he found sat on his couch. The dark made it hard for him to see, so silently arming himself he snuck up on them without a sound.

"I don't remember giving you a key."

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Hangry

Word count: ~2,000

Pairing: Steve x reader and Bucky (platonic), no pronouns used

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff. Mild cursing.

It's been a year and a half since my last posted works! I'm VERY out of practice 😅 I'm trying to work on some smaller prompts on my list while I get myself back into writing and continue working on the Loki blip in the universe prompt. It's not my best, but I hope you enjoy in any case!

This was based on a Prompt for Steve x reader as well as a prompt where reader and Bucky bug Steve while he's making a public appearance.

“Tell us, Captain, sir - how did the Avengers manage to track down the villain’s hideout this time?”

“Well, good sir - we have state-of-the-art technology that allows us to track electronic signals from thousands of miles away…”

“Ugh, he is such a ham!” you muttered to Bucky under your breath as you observed Steve from a distance. “We’re never going to make it to the store if he keeps stopping every time a reporter tries to chat him up!”

“Steve can’t resist bragging about us,” Bucky chided, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah, well… some of us are hungry!”

You huffed and folded your arms across your chest in annoyance, trying to catch the reporter’s eye with your scowling face, but she was far too enamored by the star-spangled captain to pay you any mind. How had a simple grocery run for ice cream turned into a twenty-minute interview with the press??

“I swear, I’m gonna go drag him away from that reporter by the ear if he doesn’t stop talking in the next 60 seconds,” you grumbled.

“Why do that when we can mess with him instead?”

You turned to look at Bucky, who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Go on…”

He smirked, shooting you a wink. “Watch and learn.”

You watched silently as Bucky meandered casually toward where Steve stood speaking with the reporter and her photographer. Steve was none the wiser to his friend approaching from behind.

“… but the serum isn’t the only thing that makes us heroes. It takes a whole load of grit and determina-HAY-tion-!”

Steve flinched as his best friend subtly reached up and pinched his side mid-sentence, effectively silencing him. The captain recovered quickly, though, chuckling nonchalantly as he flashed Bucky a look. He continued on with his sentence after that, refusing to acknowledge what just happened.

“Wait - Steve is ticklish??” you whispered incredulously as Bucky returned to your side.

“Very. Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed the serum eliminated weaknesses like that.”

Bucky chuckled. “Nah - if anything it made it worse.”

“Oh-ho, I’ve got to try this for myself!”

You quietly paced up behind the blabbing soldier, pretending you were casually walking past to avoid drawing attention from passerby. As you stepped by him, you reached out and swiftly dug your fingertips into his ribs for less than a second. Steve choked on his words and whipped his head around instinctively. You ducked out of his field of vision and prodded his other side.

“Excuse me,” Steve requested politely, turning around as nonchalantly as possible to find you standing behind him with a guilty grin on your face. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to remind you that we have somewhere we have to be,” you stated sweetly.

“Yes, but it isn’t urgent,” he muttered.

“Oh, I think you’ll find it to be very urgent, actually,” you whispered, shooting him a cheeky wink. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Steve turned to the reporter.

“My apologies, ma’am. Duty calls.”

You saw Bucky clap a hand over his mouth and nose to cover the snort that burst from his nares. Trying hard not to openly roll your eyes in front of the reporter, you nodded in the direction of the grocery store and began marching purposefully toward your destination, with Steve following in your wake.

“You two are infuriating,” Steve grumbled once you were out of earshot from the reporter.

“Excuse me - I just want to go get my ice cream and head back home to eat it,” you countered. “You’re the one who decided to schmooze with the first person who asked you about your superpowers.”

“I’m just trying to maintain good public relations. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Ugh, no. I hate talking about myself.”

The three of you bickered amicably the entire way to the store. It hadn’t ended by the time you’d made it back to the tower kitchen and dropped your grocery bags on the counter.

“I’m just saying - it wouldn’t kill you to wear a hat or something to hide your face from reporters when we’re just trying to go to the store,” you griped, shrugging your sweatshirt off your shoulders and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen stools.

“It wouldn’t kill you to try to be friendly to strangers every once in a while,” Steve retorted.

“Excuse me - I am a very friendly person! I’m just selective about it.”

“Friendly as an angry porcupine, sure.”

You gasped indignantly. “Are you saying I’m sharp with people??”

“You’re just a little… prickly.”

“Ooh, now that’s an insult,” Bucky hummed sarcastically.

“You’re just as bad, you know. Forget porcupines - you’re like a venomous sea urchin or something,” Steve shot back at his friend. You snorted.

“Steve… you’ve really got to work on your teasing skills,” you chuckled. “A ‘sea urchin?’ Really?”

“I could just take your ice cream”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

Steve held your gaze for a moment, eyes darting briefly to the bag on the counter between you with the ice cream inside. You lunged for the bag handle, but Steve predicted your move, snatching it out of your reach before you could get a hand on it.

“Damnit, Steve!! Give it back!” you whined, rounding the counter to swipe for the grocery bag. He turned his back to you, maintaining a barrier between you and the prize. “Bucky! Help me out here!”

“Nah, this is pretty funny to watch,” Bucky chuckled, snickering as you swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Yeah but your ice cream is in there too!”

Bucky sighed. “You make a fair point. Steve, buddy, give it back.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve been just as much a pain in my rear today! Why would I give it back to you either?”

You gasped dramatically, catching Bucky’s eye. “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?”

“‘Course not!”

Without warning, Bucky lunged at his super soldier friend, tackling him to the floor. The bag of ice cream slipped from Steve’s grasp in his surprise, which you quickly snatched up before he could regain the wherewithal to take it back. With a triumphant shout, you tore the cover off your pint of ice cream and dug a spoon out of the drawer, swiping a scoop off the top layer and shoving it in your mouth with a contented sigh.

“Mm… finawwy,” you mumbled with your mouth full. Swallowing, you pointed your spoon accusatorially at Steve where he was currently trying to shove Bucky off himself. “You know, you’ve been a pain in my rear all day. You deserved this - it’s nice to see someone teaching you a lesson.”

“You two are pains in my rear every day!” Steve huffed as he grasped at Bucky’s shoulders and pushed.

“You did not just say that!” you gasped dramatically.

“Yeah, how dare you!” Bucky added, pinching at Steve’s side for emphasis.

“Bahah- Bucky, don’t start this,” Steve warned as he grasped his friend’s wrists to still his hands.

“Ooh! Wait!” You set your ice cream and spoon down on the counter beside you. “I want a go! Bucky, hold him there for a minute.”

“Whahat??” Steve laughed in surprise, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Sure!” Bucky offered, ignoring his friend’s protests as he maneuvered his wrists from Steve’s grasp and swiftly pinned his arms to the floor a few inches from his sides. “Quick, before he gets free!”

"On it!" You crouched down beside the super soldiers as Steve tugged against Bucky's grip. Without waiting to listen to Steve's protests any further, you began to scribble your fingertips into his exposed sides and ribs rapidly. You heard a thump behind you as Steve kicked his heel against the floor in protest, now pulling more frantically to escape his best friend's hold.

"HA-HEHEY! Cut it ohout!!"

"Nah. I deserve a little reward for tolerating you all day," you snickered, prodding at his belly. "Hey, Buck - where should I get him next?"

"Ohh, definitely under his arms," he suggested with a smirk. You pinched your way up his ribcage before slotting your hands into the narrow space between his biceps and his upper ribs. Bucky adjusted his grip to pry his friend's arms away from his sides as he attempted to clamp them down to limit the space under his arms.

"BUCKY!! Let me go-HO-HO this I-HI-INSTANT!" Steve demanded.

"No can do, buddy. I'm enjoying watching you get taken down a peg."

"DAHAMNIT BAHARNES!!"

"Oof, language Steve!" you teased, digging your fingers into the soft spot under his arms. "Where else is he ticklish?"

"The spot on his stomach right under his ribs - that'll really get him good." Steve nearly managed to slip his wrist from Bucky's grasp, but he quickly shifted his grip once again. "Better do it quick - I can't hold him much longer."

"Say no more." You pulled your hands free from under Steve's arms and danced your fingertips across the muscle-clad skin of his abdomen just under his ribcage as Bucky suggested. He threw his head back with a heavy stream of laughter at your touch, arching his back against the floor in desperation. It was only another moment before he finally succeeded in escaping Bucky's grasp.

Steve sat up swiftly, a playful but menacing gleam in his eye as his gaze immediately landed on you.

"Oh-ho, shit!" You scrambled to get to your feet to make your escape, groaning defeatedly when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around your waist and yank you backward.

“You really think I’d let you get away with that?” Steve asked rhetorically as he tightened his arms around your midsection to hold you in place.

“W-wait, Steve, we can- ahaha nohoho!” Your protests were cut short as Steve’s fingers kneaded into your sides. “Bucky! Hehehelp!!”

“Nuh-uh. You’re on your own, my friend.” The infuriatingly unhelpful super soldier waltzed over to the counter to retrieve his ice cream, planting himself atop the countertop and digging in while observing the two of you wrestling on the floor below.

“USELEHESS!!” you cried, attempting futilely to pry Steve’s hands off your sides.

“Nice try. You should know better than to mess with me by now,” Steve teased. He loosened his grip slightly to scratch at your belly. A rumbling laugh erupted in his chest when you screeched in protest and doubled over, suddenly much more frantic. “Oh, what’s this?”

“DAHAMNIT STE-HEE-HEVE!” Your grip on his hands was far too weak to even budge them now - not that you’d had any hope of succeeding before your muscles had weakened from his tickling. You leaned more heavily into him as you succumbed to laughter. He responded by lowering you down to lay on the floor beside him, freeing both hands to dart randomly around your sides and stomach. Weakly, you tapped your palm on the floor beside you in surrender. Steve threw in a few more exceedingly ticklish light scratches along your belly before relenting in his revenge.

“That’ll teach you,” he teased with a grin, offering you a hand to help you off the ground. You grasped your abdominal muscles that were now aching from laughter.

“I-hi… I’ll probably still mess with you,” you admitted breathlessly. Steve made a noise of protest in his throat and reached over to pinch your side, but you swatted his hand away. “Noho more! You’ll kill me!”

“So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Here - here’s your ice cream. Hope it melted while you were tormenting me.”

“Harsh!” You snatched it from his hand and stuck out your tongue, then turned to look at Bucky. "And you - you were zero help, thank you."

"Hey! I held him down for you! I was very helpful, in my personal opinion."

The three of you went right back to your friendly bickering session, as though nothing had happened. Any outside might wonder how you could all be friends, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[sebstanaddict]

A Birthday to Remember

Bucky Barnes x Reader One Shot

Summary : Reader is an Avenger, living in Avengers Tower and working together with Bucky as her partner at work. They secretly have feelings for each other but neither were courageous enough to say it. Until his birthday comes and she decides to throw him a surprise birthday party. However, his reaction is not what she expected..

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warning : none

Word count : 3k words

Read more Bucky/Sebastian one shots here : The Stan and Barnes Oddyssey

---

A Birthday to Remember

A/N: This takes place in an alternate universe where Tony and Nat are still alive and Steve is still around.

---

March in New York City was a month of thawing ice and budding possibilities. The city, caught between winter's last breath and spring's first whispers, mirrored the state of James "Bucky" Barnes' heart—cold yet hopeful.

For years, he'd been a soldier, an assassin, a man out of time. But in the quiet corners of Avengers Tower, Bucky found a new identity, not just as an Avenger but as a man who, despite the darkness of his past, had found a beacon of light in the form of Y/n, his work partner.

Y/n had been the first to see past the steel-blue eyes that carried the weight of decades of pain. She had a way of making the world seem a little less heavy, her laugh a little brighter, her presence a comfort in the storm that was his mind. But for all her warmth, Bucky kept his feelings for her locked away, fearful that letting them out might scare her off or, worse, tarnish the only good thing he had in his life.

It was the first week of March, and Bucky's birthday loomed on the horizon. Not that anyone ever made a fuss about it; it was just another day for him. But this year, Y/n decided that it would be different. She'd seen the way Bucky withdrew into himself, how he avoided attention, and how he seemed to carry the world on his shoulders even when they were supposed to be off-duty. A birthday celebration, she thought, could be a way to remind him that he wasn't alone.

Y/n spent the days leading up to Bucky's birthday planning meticulously. She reached out to their fellow Avengers, those who had become something of a family to them both. Steve, who knew Bucky better than anyone, was hesitant at first but eventually agreed, realizing that Y/n's intentions were pure. Natasha was all in, offering her own skills to ensure Bucky wouldn't suspect a thing, while Sam, ever the optimist, promised to keep the mood light and fun.

On the morning of Bucky's birthday, Y/n could barely contain her excitement. She'd set everything up in one of the smaller common rooms of Avengers Tower, a space that offered a cozy atmosphere and a stunning view of the city. A small banner reading "Happy Birthday, Bucky!" hung above the entrance, and a cake sat in the center of the room, decorated with a minimalist design that she knew Bucky would appreciate.

As the day progressed, Y/n kept a close eye on Bucky. He seemed to be his usual self, quiet and focused, but there was a slight tension in his demeanor, something that she couldn't quite place. When the time came, she led him to the common room under the pretense of needing help with something.

The moment he walked through the door, the lights flicked on, and a chorus of voices shouted, "Surprise!"

Bucky froze, his expression unreadable. The room was filled with familiar faces—Steve, Natasha, Sam, and even Tony, who had begrudgingly agreed to take a break from his lab for the occasion. Everyone was smiling, but the one face Bucky focused on was Y/n's, standing just a few feet away with a hopeful grin.

But instead of the smile she was hoping for, Bucky's face hardened. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the decorations, the cake, the people. It was all too much, too overwhelming. Without a word, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Y/n's heart sank. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She quickly excused herself and followed Bucky down the hall, her footsteps quickening as she saw him heading for the stairwell.

"Bucky!" she called out, but he didn't stop. "Bucky, wait!"

He finally halted halfway up the stairs, his back still to her. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, his voice low and tight.

"I thought... I thought you'd like it," Y/n replied, her own voice trembling with uncertainty. "I just wanted to make you happy."

Bucky turned to face her, his eyes burning with a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper, more vulnerable.

"I don't need a party, Y/n. I don't need a room full of people staring at me, reminding me of everything I've lost, everything I can't get back."

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his words. "I wasn't trying to remind you of anything. I just—"

"You don't get it," Bucky cut her off, his voice rising. "You think you can just fix everything with a party, with cake and decorations? I don't want that. I don't need it."

The hurt in his words cut deeper than Y/n had expected. She took a step back, her own emotions bubbling to the surface.

"I'm sorry, Bucky. I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I care about you, okay? I wanted to do something nice for you because you mean a lot to me."

For a moment, there was silence. Bucky's anger seemed to deflate as he looked at Y/n, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but the emotions he'd kept buried for so long had come rushing out, and now he didn't know how to take them back.

"Y/n, I..." he started, but the words caught in his throat. He took a deep breath and tried again. "I appreciate what you did, really. But... my birthday, it's just another reminder of how much time I've lost, of how much I've missed out on. And the last thing I wanted was for you to see me like this, feeling sorry for myself."

Y/n's expression softened as she took a step closer to him. "I don't see you that way, Bucky. I never have. I see someone who’s been through hell and back, who’s still fighting, still trying. And I... I care about you more than you know."

Bucky looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, he allowed himself to see the truth in her eyes—the affection, the concern, the love she’d been trying to show him all along. And in that moment, something shifted within him. The walls he’d built around his heart, the ones meant to keep people out, began to crumble.

"I care about you too, Y/n," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. But I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you felt the same way."

Y/n let out a soft, relieved laugh, wiping at the tears that had begun to fall. "Of course I do, Bucky. How could I not?"

Bucky took a tentative step toward her, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "I’m sorry for how I reacted. I just... I wasn’t expecting it, and I didn’t know how to handle it."

"It’s okay," Y/n said, her hand coming up to cover his. "I should have talked to you first, asked what you wanted."

They stood there for a moment, the tension between them dissipating, replaced by something warmer, something more real. Bucky hesitated, then leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "Thank you," he whispered. "For caring. For everything."

Y/n smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the man in front of her. "Happy birthday, Bucky."

—

After the tension had melted away, Y/n and Bucky found themselves back in the common room, though it was now empty, their friends having discreetly departed to give them some space. The sun had set, and the lights of New York City twinkled outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow over the room.

Bucky had never been one for grand gestures, but as he looked at the cake Y/n had made for him, he felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn't felt in years. It wasn't the party that mattered—it was the thought, the effort she had put in just for him. And more than that, it was the realization that she cared for him in a way he had never dared to hope for.

"Do you still want to celebrate?" Y/n asked, her voice soft, as if she was afraid of breaking the moment.

Bucky nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. But just the two of us, if that's okay."

Y/n's face lit up with a smile that made Bucky's heart skip a beat. "I'd like that."

They sat together on the couch, the cake between them, and Bucky watched as Y/n lit a single candle. The flickering flame illuminated her face, and for a moment, Bucky could hardly believe this was real—that he was here, with her, on his birthday, and that she felt the same way about him as he did about her.

"Make a wish," Y/n said, her voice gentle.

Bucky looked at her, at the way her eyes sparkled with affection, and realized that he didn't need to wish for anything. Everything he wanted was right here in front of him.

Instead, he leaned forward and blew out the candle, his wish already fulfilled.

They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and sharing stories. It was the most relaxed Bucky had felt in years, and he couldn't help but marvel at how easy it was to be around Y/n, how she made him feel like he could finally be himself without fear of judgment.

As the night wore on, the lights of New York City continued to sparkle outside the windows, casting a soft, ambient glow across the room. The city was alive, but inside the common room, it felt like there was only the two of them. The remnants of the cake sat on the table, forgotten as they continued talking, lost in each other's company.

Bucky couldn't remember the last time he had felt this at ease. The weight he usually carried on his shoulders seemed lighter, the shadows in his mind a little less dark. Y/n had that effect on him. She always had. But now, knowing how she felt, everything seemed brighter.

They sat close together on the couch, their knees almost touching. Bucky found himself drawn to her in a way he had never let himself be before. Every time she laughed, it sent a warmth through his chest that he couldn't ignore. And every time she looked at him, he felt like she was seeing right through all the walls he had built up over the years.

"So, tell me," Y/n said, leaning back and turning to face him fully, "what was the best birthday you've ever had? I mean, before this one, of course."

Bucky smiled, though it was tinged with a bit of sadness. "It's been a long time since I had a birthday worth remembering. Back in the day, Steve and I would celebrate together. He'd always get me something, even if it was small. I remember one year, when we were still kids, he saved up for months to buy me a new jacket. It was nothing fancy, but it meant a lot."

Y/n listened intently, her eyes softening as she imagined a younger Bucky, happy and carefree. "He always was a good friend."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, his smile growing. "He's the best."

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment before Y/n spoke again, her voice gentle. "You know, Bucky, you deserve good things. You deserve happiness. I know it's hard to believe that sometimes, but it's true."

Bucky looked down at his hands, which were resting on his knees. It was difficult for him to accept that, to believe that he was worthy of anything good after everything he had done, everything he had been through. But when he looked back up at Y/n, he saw the sincerity in her eyes, and for the first time, he started to believe it might be true.

"I’m trying," he admitted quietly. "It's just... it's hard to let go of the past."

Y/n reached out and placed her hand over his, her touch warm and reassuring. "You don’t have to do it alone, you know. I'm here, Bucky. I want to help you, if you'll let me."

Her words settled over him like a comforting blanket. Bucky turned his hand over, so their palms were pressed together, and he gently squeezed her hand. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "For being here. For everything."

They sat like that for a while, just holding hands, neither of them wanting to break the moment. Eventually, though, Y/n glanced out the window and smiled. "It’s getting late. How about we head up to the roof? The view up there is incredible, and it's one of my favorite spots in the Tower."

Bucky nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Lead the way."

They made their way up to the rooftop, the cool night air greeting them as they stepped outside. The city sprawled out before them, a sea of lights stretching as far as the eye could see. It was breathtaking, the kind of view that made you feel both small and connected to something much bigger at the same time.

Y/n led Bucky to the edge of the roof, where a small bench was nestled between some planters filled with flowers and greenery. It was a peaceful spot, far enough from the bustle of the city below to feel like they were in their own little world.

"Wow," Bucky said softly as he took in the view. "This is... incredible."

Y/n smiled, pleased that he liked it. "I come up here a lot when I need to clear my head. It's quiet, and the view always helps me put things in perspective."

They sat down on the bench, side by side, and for a moment, they just enjoyed the silence, the beauty of the city stretching out before them. Bucky could feel the warmth of Y/n's shoulder against his, and it was a comfort he hadn't realized he needed.

"This was a good idea," Bucky said after a while. "Coming up here, I mean. I can see why you like it."

"I'm glad you think so," Y/n replied, her voice soft. She glanced over at him, her expression thoughtful. "Bucky, there's something I need to tell you."

He turned to look at her, his heart suddenly racing. "What is it?"

Y/n took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while, but I wasn’t sure how you’d react. But after tonight, after everything, I can’t keep it to myself anymore."

Bucky felt his pulse quicken, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety swirling in his chest. "Y/n, whatever it is, you can tell me."

She met his gaze, her eyes full of emotion. "I care about you, Bucky. A lot. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I know you’ve been through so much, that you have your own demons to fight. But I want to be there for you, to help you through it. I want... I want to be with you, if you’ll have me."

The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Bucky couldn’t breathe. He had imagined this, dreamed of it even, but he had never dared to hope it could be real. And now, here she was, offering him everything he had ever wanted but was too afraid to ask for.

"I..." Bucky started, his voice thick with emotion. "Y/n, I... I’ve wanted to tell you the same thing, but I was too scared. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess, into the darkness that follows me everywhere."

Y/n shook her head, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "You’re not dragging me into anything, Bucky. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you. And I don’t care about the darkness, because I see the light in you too. You’re a good man, Bucky Barnes, and you deserve to be happy."

Bucky leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as he absorbed her words. They were like a balm to his soul, soothing the wounds he had carried for so long. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the love and determination in hers, and he knew that this was real, that she meant every word.

"I want to be with you too, Y/n," he said, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside him. "I don’t know how to do this, how to be with someone, but I want to try. I want to try with you."

A smile spread across Y/n's face, one that lit up her entire being. "We’ll figure it out together."

Without thinking, Bucky leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, a kiss that was both tender and filled with the promise of something more. Y/n responded immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things they had been too afraid to say, all the feelings they had kept hidden for so long.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless, but neither of them could stop smiling.

"Happy birthday, Bucky," Y/n whispered, her forehead resting against his.

Bucky chuckled softly, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. "Best birthday ever."

They spent the rest of the night on the rooftop, wrapped in each other's arms, watching the city that never slept. It was a night filled with quiet conversation, shared warmth, and the promise of a future together. As the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, Bucky knew that he had finally found something worth fighting for—someone who made him believe in the possibility of happiness, of love.

And as they sat there, with the city waking up around them, Bucky realized that this was just the beginning.

[antiquitea]

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫.

pairing: john "bucky" egan x gale "buck" cleven

summary: while resting during the march from the stalag to the train, gale helps john sleep. after the war, john returns the favour.

warnings: mature, minors do not interact! semi-public sex, hand jobs, frottage, ptsd, and the horrors of war.

word count: 3.7k

author's notes: i am cross eyed from banging this out over the course of a couple of hours save for a couple of paragraphs. i didn't think i could do this anymore. apparently i just need sunshine and the largest iced coffee that i can stomach before barfing to fuel me.

many thanks to @swifty-fox for yelling at me in all caps while i wrote this. shout out to laura marling's "night terror" for being a loose inspiration and letting me steal both the title and a lyric even if she doesn't know i did that.

» read on ao3

February 1945

Gale couldn’t sleep.

Both in the sense that he agreed to stay awake, and even if he could have slept, he wasn’t sure that he would have been able to. They’d found an abandoned farm house to take shelter in for the night between leaving the stalag and heading to wherever their next destination was, and while it assisted in keeping the snow out, it did nothing to protect himself and the rest of the men from the bitter cold.

John had, in a moment of brilliance, grabbed a blanket before they left, and the two men made good use of it, as threadbare as it was. The two men huddled together beneath it, using each other for warmth more so than the blanket itself. Dire as their circumstances were, they were both silently and secretly grateful for the excuse to get closer together out in the open; they were not the only two cuddling for warmth. “Weather purposes” as John had put it.

“I can’t sleep,” John grumbled into Gale’s chest.

Gale’s jaw clicked, his eyes fixed on the German soldier who stepped over bodies in various states of slumber and wakefulness as he made his rounds. “Try, John,” he murmured quietly, chin resting on top of his friend’s head. “It’ll be my turn soon and I don’t want to hear your bellyaching.”

John snorted, and despite the layers of clothing between them, Gale could feel the way his lips quirked upward into a small smile against him.

The upside to being a prisoner of war, with every single day and night being a test of their ability to survive? Being able to be close to one another, like this, with no judgment. They weren’t the only ones holding one another for warmth, the only ones who shared a bunk from time to time back at the stalag. That they couldn’t have this elsewhere without someone raising eyebrows was terribly unfair.

The downside? Everything else.

Gale didn’t have the heart to tell John that he had actually nodded off for a couple of hours already. He knew that their sleep had been dreamless and restless for over a year. And that was the best that anyone could hope for. The worst were of course the nightmares, the night terrors, men bolting upright in their bunks sweating, screaming.

He and John had been two of the lucky ones.

At least so far.

Gale’s hands idly soothed over John’s back, hoping that the gentle touch would lull him back to sleep. John shivered against him, and Gale couldn’t tell if it was from his touch or the cold. He hoped that it was the former, but the bitter cold was likely stronger than John’s desire for Gale and his touch.

In the depths of his mind, he liked to imagine that they were back stateside, before John shipped out, bed sheets tangled around them, touching one another slow, sweet, soft. Not the hurried manner which they went about it all since Gale had arrived in England. They stole moments together whenever they could, no longer afforded the luxury of time. At least in the stalag they could make excuses for being close to one another, sharing a bed.

If anyone saw anything, no they hadn’t. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have said anything.

“S’nice,” John mumbled against Gale’s throat, as strong, sure hands rubbed over his back.

“I know,” Gale said, eyes darting about to make sure that there were no other eyes on them. If there were, they weren’t scrutinizing enough for him to take notice. The other men were too busy trying to keep themselves warm and sleep as well, the guards not truly giving a damn, concerned with their own warmth as well.

“Lower,” John said, his fingers curling in Gale’s thick coat. “And in the front as opposed to the back.”

Gale stilled for a moment, and then bumped John’s forehead with his own. “I know you’re not that foolish.”

“Maybe I am,” John retorted. He inhaled sharply, exhaled shakily. “You know it puts me to sleep. If that truly is your end goal here, Buck.”

He looked around once more, before meeting John’s gaze. “Are you crazy?” Gale hissed, teeth clenched. “Your insatiable damn lust will get us both killed.”

John smiled sadly, then ducked his head and nuzzled at Gale’s throat. “We’re as good as dead already, sweetheart.”

Even it was the truth, Gale wanted to continue foolishly believing that there still might be a shred of hope. That their stories didn’t end with them receiving bullets between the eyes, left to rot wherever the Germans saw fit. That he and John might live to see a few more sunrises, that they might see the end of the war, that they might go back home.

Despite Gale’s optimism, it seemed less and less likely that he would know anything but this ever again.

Gale watched as a guard literally stepped over his and John’s bodies to get to the front of the building, and for the moment he froze, waiting for them to pass. He turned his head, his back to the entrance of the farm house, and watched as the majority of the men tasked with guarding them stepped outside. There was a brief flicker of fire from a lighter, the flame passed around until all three cigarettes were lit. Gale turned back toward John, looking into his dark blue eyes, heavy lidded with exhaustion, and something else that he had only ever shown to Gale.

Neither of them spoke of it.

Gale pulled the glove off of one of his hands, and John shifted in front of him, wriggling excitedly. It was a moment later when Gale realized that it wasn’t excitement, it was John undoing his pants and pushing layers of fabric up, down, out of the way. Gale held John’s gaze as he spat discreetly into his palm, and John’s lips parted with a soft sigh before he caught his bottom lip between his teeth.

“For once in your life, be quiet,” Gale rasped, his hand disappearing beneath the blanket.

That insufferable, wolfish grin passed over John’s features, and if Gale was going to die that night he could think of no sweeter death than while making the man in front of him feel pleasure and happiness one last time.

Through the layers of clothing, his own and John’s, Gale’s fingers finally, blissfully, wrapped around John’s cock. Gale watched as John bit his lip so hard that for the moment he was terrified that his teeth would go through it. So focused had they been on their plan, on trying to make it out of the stalag alive, that they hadn’t found the time to do little more than give each others’ hand a squeeze in passing. Too long had it been since either of them had known the touch of the other somewhere a little more intimate.

“Quiet,” Gale reminded as he watched John’s lips part in a soft gasp.

“I know. I know,” John whispered hurriedly, before pressing his face into the long, delicate column of Gale’s throat. There had been a scarf in his way; Gale had felt John bite it to shift it out of his way.

Gale reminded himself that he needed to be quiet. The brush of John’s lips against his throat, an errogneous spot for him (that John had figured out, incidentally), had him wanting to roll onto his back, haul John on top of him, and arch beneath him until they both came, chasing a pleasure that they had never been rightly afforded, one that they were frightened to come to terms with perhaps never having again.

Some other time, perhaps.

Gale flexed his fingers, stiff from the cold, but thawing so close to the warmth of John’s body. John’s cock was thick, heavy, in his palm, just as it always had been. The normalcy of the act, despite the horror of the location, comforted Gale in a way that he hadn’t anticipated, and he let out his own quiet sigh, which he pressed into the knit cap that John wore.

He longed to press his face into those soft, wild, dark curls that he had come to love in the years since he’d met John.

“Buck,” John rasped against his throat, bringing him back from where he drifted off to. A place where they could be warm, soft.

Safe.

“I’m here,” Gale whispered, droplets of damp in John’s cap catching against his lips. The sickly sweet scent of John’s sweat, his musk, filled Gale’s nostrils, and his free hand clutched at the back of John’s coat.

John’s hips twitched against Gale’s fingers, his body, trying to move with him, trying to chase the high that he was so desperately seeking, that Gale was desperate to give to him. His lips were parted against Gale’s pulse point, attempting to quietly gasp for air, dropping tender kisses that were so warm that threatened to burn Gale alive. He welcomed it.

Gale dragged his spit along John’s shaft, thumb collecting the precome that gathered at the head and smeared it over his length. John muffled a soft, desperate sound against Gale’s skin, damp with sweat from the effort of trying to be quiet, be still, of finally discovering some manner of warmth, before lifting his head slightly, to peer over Gale’s shoulder.

“Hurry,” was all he said, and Gale knew that outside the butts of cigarettes were being stomped out beneath boots, that they were running out of time.

“Five seconds,” Gale gasped, before swallowing thickly. John had met his gaze, held it, and Gale swallowed past both a lump in his throat and a louder noise that threatened to escape. Gale flicked his wrist as John attempted to move quickly, and yet keep his movements imperceptible. “C’mon, John. You can do it.”

“Buck,” John breathed, lips centimetres from Gale’s. They both wanted it. But they couldn’t risk it. “Please.”

Gale had never heard John be so polite in all of the time that they knew one another. He craned his neck slightly and looked out of the corner of his eye, unable to see the Germans, but knowing that they were coming in from out of the cold.

“Five,” he whispered, turning back to John. His fingers, desperate to give John his release moved faster, and John chased them as best he could.

“Four.” Brushing against John’s balls, Gale could feel them draw up toward his body.

“Three.” Gale looked at John’s face, so fuckin’ happy to see his cheeks rosy with colour. He looked like he was burning up, too big, too warm for his skin. But it sure as hell beat the alternative that they currently faced.

“Two.” John’s eyelids began to slip closed, eyes rolling toward the back of his skull, head tipped back slightly, lips parted. Gale knew the expression that John wore as he came better than he knew how to fly a B-17.

“One.” Gale felt John’s spend slipping through his fingers, hot, sticky, and abundant. John’s lips were parted in a silent cry, as he carefully bucked his hips toward Gale’s touch.

In that moment Gale had been incredibly proud of John, mostly quiet throughout it all save for a few whispers and gasped breaths. He was an extremely noisy lover, and short of having something stuffed in his mouth could always be counted on to be loud. Even when discretion was key. John seemed to think that Air Force wouldn’t give a damn if he was a fairy, only one person flew planes better in his mind, and that was who he would be undoubtedly be found with.

Spent, John pressed himself against Gale, and his trembling body could easily be explained away with the cold. Gale held him close, eyes on the guards as they began to filter back into farm house, not daring to move, even if he could feel John’s come cooling and congealing on his hand. He was already absolutely filthy. If anyone noticed the slightly sweet smell of come, no one acknowledged it.

Gale managed to worm his hand out from under clothing, the blanket, and brought it to his mouth, licking and sucking his fingers clean. Not in an attempt to be seductive, but to clean himself. If John noticed, he didn’t say a word, instead looked down as he put his cock away, did his pants back up.

Grabbing the edge of the blanket, Gale pulled it up toward their chins, hoping his own movements would mask John’s. Satisfied with the state of himself, John glanced back up at Gale, giving him a fond smile. Gale managed one back.

“Roll over,” John murmured. “You can be the little spoon for once.”

Despite himself, Gale managed a small smile of his own, thoughts momentarily shifting toward a dear friend, who had once been John’s big spoon. It hadn’t been that long ago that the three of them had laughed into the phone together, and yet it might as well have been another lifetime.

Gale did as he was told, John’s strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him back against his chest. This way, Gale could keep an eye on the front door, on more of the men. The only downside of this position, as far as he was concerned, was that he could not see John’s face. He wasn’t sure how much longer that he would have the opportunity to commit it to memory, as if he hadn’t already.

He felt John’s body go lax against his, heard him snore into his shoulder, and smiled.

-

October 1945

John couldn’t sleep.

He often couldn’t. It was too quiet. He had gotten used to noise, whether it be the sounds of dozens of other men sleeping around him, bullets, bombs, and bigotry. It had been five long years of never being alone, to suddenly the sound of silence becoming a deafening thing.

Sitting up in their bed, knees to his chest, arms resting atop them, John corrected himself. He wasn’t alone.

John turned his attention from the moon hanging outside of their window to the restless figure beside him. Whatever sleep Gale had lost during the war, he was trying to find it in the house that they shared in Kansas. Not Wisconsin, not Wyoming. A fresh start, where no one knew them. They could be anonymous, buy a plot of land in the middle of nowhere. Fix up an old house that had been lost to time. Two friends who had come back from the war, no longer used to being alone, needing the other to help quiet the noise in their head.

Tender as the thoughts of a quiet life together made him, it was Gale’s agitated frame that had John watching his lover like a hawk.

He knew what came next, and preferred to be awake for it instead of startled out of his sleep, feet on the creaky, old hardwood floors before his eyes had fully opened.

Gale bolted upright, screaming.

Had he been in his right mind, Gale would have known what came next as well. They had discussed it at length in the daylight, when the ghosts more or less left Gale alone.

The bed clothes fell away from John’s body as he straddled Gale’s thighs, large hands first on his shoulders, carefully anchoring him, bringing him back to the present, then moving to his back, drawing him closer. One hand mooring Gale against him, the other cradling the back of his head, bringing his face to the juncture where his shoulder and neck met. Gale would press his face into John’s shoulder until the screams subsided, sometimes turning into choked off, broken sobs, sometimes turning into ragged breaths. But always turning into a mumbled, “I’m sorry, John.”

To which John would always say, “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart.”

Had it truly been not even a year since the stalag? All of the horrors that they had seen, experienced?

Gale lifted his head, and John’s thumb swept over his cheeks, gathering the damp that leaked from his eyes. Neither of them were too proud to shy away from tears, their own and each other’s, at least with one another. Gale looked up at John pathetically, blue eyes wide, bright, and wet with unshed tears that he blinked away as quickly as he could.

“It’ll get better, won’t it?” Gale asked the older man, voice thick.

John’s mouth formed a thin line and he sighed. Neither of them knew. It didn’t stop Gale from asking.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gale whispered, his hands reaching up and tangling in John’s hair, touching at his face.

“Look at you like what?” John asked, tilting toward Gale’s desperate and frantic touch. He knew what his love was doing; ensuring that he was still there, ensuring that he was real.

“Like I’m off my loop,” Gale replied, his eyes searching John’s.

“Think I’ll take you to the laughing farm if you are?” John asked, leaning in closer to Gale’s face.

Gale closed the distance between them, kissing John frantically. It was less a kiss, more Gale smashing their lips together so hard that John worried he might have chipped a tooth. His own or John’s.

“Don’t torment me,” Gale pleaded, and John instantly felt bad for attempting to soothe Gale’s mind with his usual antics.

John didn’t apologize, Gale hated it when he did, despite having done it moments ago himself. “What do you need, sweetheart?” he asked. The sentence hadn’t truly been completed, Gale’s mouth seeking out his again, the remainder of it dying between their lips.

“Make me forget them,” Gale replied, fingers searching for purchase against John’s chest, finding it in warm skin, wiry, dark curls. “Keep the ghosts away.”

Wrapping his arms around Gale’s slender frame, John pushed him back down onto their bed, covering Gale’s body with his own. His mouth descended upon Gale’s, forcing his lips apart with his tongue, licking inside until the tip of his tongue brushed against Gale’s molars. Gale clutched at his arms desperately, one leg hooking over his hip in attempt to keep him close, to keep him from moving away.

As if there were any place else in the world than John wanted to be than in a falling apart house in Kansas, wrapped up in the sheets and limbs of the man that he loved.

John felt Gale’s cock hard against his hip, and began to reach down between their bodies, only to have Gale’s long, elegant fingers wrap around his wrist. John lifted his head, alarmed, to find Gale shaking his head.

“No,” he rasped. “Not like that.”

Instead of asking what Gale would have preferred, John waited for Gale to show him. Gale reached between them, and John had half a mind to bat Gale’s hand away, but the thought turned to soup when Gale wrapped his fingers around John’s prick, guiding it against his own. John rolled his hips tentatively, face searching Gale’s for approval. Gale closed his eyes, breathless, and nodded. John repeated the motion, and was rewarded with the sweet sound of Gale’s moan.

In the middle of nowhere, they could be as loud as they wanted. They made up for the farm house, the stalag, the barracks, and everywhere else they had ever muffled the sounds that they made.

John moved slowly at first, cock already so wet just from the mere thought of even having Gale against him, grinding against his lover. Gale’s arms went around him, clutching at him, blunt edges of fingernails digging into his back, leaving crescent moon indentations in their wake. To go with all the other crescent moon indentations that he had left in recent days, nights.

Gale, not satisfied with sweet and slow, bucked beneath John, encouraging him to move faster, harder, letting out an annoyed little grunt at not being given what he wanted, impatient in his desire. Desire to feel pleasure, desire to forget.

“I’ve got you,” John breathed, hips snapping forward. He was rewarded with Gale’s sharp gasp, his body responding in kind. “Buck, I’ve got you.”

Gale smeared his mouth over John’s jawline, the days old stubble that he hadn’t bothered to shave, partially out of laziness, mostly out of Gale’s request. Evidently, he loved the burn. John’s eyelids fluttered shut, the leg draped over his hip urging him closer, even if there was nowhere for him to go.

John dragged his cock through the pool of gathering precome in Gale’s blonde pubic hair, his own mixed with Gale’s. Bracing one hand against the bed, the other tangled in Gale’s hair. Gale’s eyes, which had been closed, opened to meet John’s in a hazy gaze, begging him to not look away. John gave Gale a brusque nod, grunting as they moved together. Despite its desperateness, erraticness, it was a rhythym that they have perfected, one that was theirs.

Grunting, John movements became frenzied, and Gale’s lips fell open in soft, short gasps, head tipped back against the pillows. John was overcome with the urge to both bite at, and protect Gale’s vulnerable throat, tipping his head forward and mouthing along the pulse point that he had found so many times before.

“John. John,” Gale gasped, his lover’s name a mantra on his lips as his body tensed. He came beneath John with a cry that it sounded like he might asphyxiate on, coming across his own belly and chest.

John tumbled wordlessly after, moaning into Gale’s throat, tongue and teeth marking their rightful place against his skin, damp with sweat.

They laid there together in their bed, John’s body still atop Gale’s, pinning him, giving him the weight that he knew that Gale desperately craved. Gale’s touch over John’s arms became feather light, tender, bringing him back from the edge of the intensity that they had just experienced together. John turned his head, kissing at Gale’s fingertips, looking into the eyes of man fucked back toward the edge of sleep.

Satiated. Happy.

Safe.

“If they want you,” John whispered, lips still dancing over Gale’s fingers, “they’re going to have to fight me.”

/end.

[oskea93]

✦ It Had to be You: Two ✦

John “Bucky” Egan x OC Gale “Buck Cleven x OC

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mention of death, suicidal ideations.

● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ●

⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆

“You need to eat something, Carolina – “ My mother’s voice straining. “You’re withering away to that of a corpse.”  

The thought of eating anything at this point, especially the pickled beetroot, was enough to make me want to vomit. I moved the spoon around in the liquid, playing with it as if I were still a child. You really don’t feel like eating after watching the love of your life be lowered into the hard, cold ground.

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not hungry.” Mother darting her gaze in my direction. “Thank you anyway, Mother.”

I knew her patience with me was starting to wane, her emotions taking a direct hit as well. I didn’t want to do anything – eat, bathe, talk – I just wanted to be left alone and that was killing her to see. My father on the other hand just pushed everything to the side, whispering to mother that this too shall pass. He had fought in the Great War – seeing many of his fellow colleagues and friends shot down right in front of him. He knew the tolls of war and what they could do to someone’s psyche, especially the wives of the soldiers that never made it home. To him, this was a natural part of life. To my father, Gale was taken for a reason that we didn’t have any business knowing. It was his time to go and there was nothing that any of us could do about it.

She took a seat at the table across from me, pushing her greying hair from her face. The air was silent between us, neither her nor I making direct eye contact. She finally broke the ice, clearing her throat before speaking,

“Carolina –“She took a short pause as she gathered her words. “I won’t tell you that I know how you’re feeling right now because I’ve never had to deal with such tragedy, but I can’t stand seeing you act this way, darling.” Tears brimming her lined eyes. “You're love for Gale is something that I admire greatly and I know he was your everything if not more –“I narrow my eyes as she speaks. “But you can’t keep pushing yourself down this rabbit hole of self-neglect and mourning.”

I was appalled – dumbfounded that she would even say such a thing.

“He was you're first love – and while that is important – you are still young, and I don’t want to see your beauty go to waste.”

“I just buried my husband less than four hours ago and you’re telling me that I need to suck it up and go find another man?” My voice low. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound right now?”

She was taken back by my question – her eyes squinting at my argument. “I just want what’s best for you, Ca-“

“No-“ I cut her off. “I’m not gonna sit here and be lectured by someone who’s never been through what I’m going through at this moment.” My voice quivering with anger. “Gale was the love of my life – and I’m sorry if you’ve never felt that way towards Daddy, but there’s no man on this planet that could ever fill Gale’s shoes and there never will be.”

My chair scrapped against the hardwood floor as I jump up to leave. I could hear her calls as I marched back to the bedroom, slamming the door with all my might. The sobs that I had held back escaped as I slid to the floor – my knees curling into my chest as the tears streamed down my face.

I didn’t even cry when they lowered his casket into the ground.

The shock of that being the last image of Gale that I would ever see again sending my body into a hypnotic state. My mother’s words finally breaking the damn open – my anger allowing the floodgates to open…

“You see that soldier over there – “Her painted finger pointing in the man’s direction. “I bet you I can get him to ask me to dance during the next song.”

I rolled my eyes as I sipped on my coke, watching as Brenda and the other girls at the table laughed and flirted with the man in question. He was tall and dark headed – not really that handsome – but that was for her to worry about. Brenda Cogsworth was a girl that my mother forced me to be around. Her mother and my mother had grown up together, becoming friends while our fathers were fighting in the First World War. The Cogsworth family had money, but class was missed with their precious Brenda. She was wild as a stallion, kissing ever boy that looked in her direction. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up knocked up or infected by a disease that Penicillin couldn’t cure.

“Why aren’t you putting yourself out there, Carolina?”

Brenda smirked to her friends as she waited for my reply. It was obvious they were teasing - knowing that I hadn’t spoken to a single fella since I arrived. My mother had forced me to come to the dance – telling me that I needed to be cordial – silently demanding that I find a future husband. Initially, I was a very shy person, but I opened like a flower in the Spring once I got to know someone. By coming to dances such as these, I didn’t think I was up to par with the other ladies, such as Brenda and her gaggle of friends. They had bright blonde hair and smooth skin – I had dirty blonde hair and chastity pustules that would pop up during my flow. My mother always made sure I was well dressed but you must have a pretty face, not just a nice dress to get a soldier to notice you these days.

I kept quiet as I watched the man in question smile to his friends before sauntering towards our table. He removed his cap, tucking it under his arm, as he slicked back his already oiled hair. He introduced himself, taking Brenda’s hand in his, pressing a kiss against her skin. The table swooned as they watched the events they had just discussed unfold, quietly celebrating as the solider lifted Brenda was from the table and onto the dance floor. I guess you would call them good friends for being happy for her, but these girls were calculative. They would be happy for you to your front, but their bodies were raging with envy. They all wished they could be Brenda at that moment – dancing away with a soldier that you’d be lucky to see again once the war was over.

“Now he’s a looker.”

I followed the glances of the girls as they watched the man walk towards the bar. He was dressed in slacks and a collared shirt – his blonde hair positioned in a tousled fashion.

They were right – he was very attractive – too attractive to be from around here. I watched as he spoke with another male – his smile big and bright – as he laughed at their words. The girls continued to whisper about him, telling each other to make the first move before someone else decides too.

“If you ladies will excuse me.” I took one last sip before standing up, smoothing down my dress before turning towards the gentleman. I don’t know what had gotten into me – the fact that I was tired of being the butt of their jokes – or the gumption of just trying to find out if I could confront someone of the opposite sex. My mother always told me it was the man’s place to approach for the first time. Make him do the work as you sit back and bask in the attention.

Mother’s rule went flying out the window that night.

I let out a deep breath, my hand reaching out to tap his shoulder. His friends were the first to notice me, grinning at me as the man I had sought out slowly turned around. He was about a foot taller than me – his blue eyes connected with mine.

“Hello –“My cheeks blushing. “I’m Carolina Davies.”

His eyes trailed down my body – his friends snickering as they nursed their drinks. “Carolina?” His voice deep. “Like North Carolina?”

The tone of his voice having a hint of tease, “Yeah.” My confidence starting to slowly deflate as he looked at his friends, knocking into each other as they laughed.

“Not to be a drag or anything, Carolina-“He paused as he stood a little straighter. “But your looks aren’t doing it for me, sweetheart.” He spoke matter of fact. “Sorry if me looking over at the table you were sitting at made you think that I was interested in you –“Another pause. “But I was looking at the girl you were sitting next to – the pretty one.”

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as the shame and embarrassment draped over me. I had just made a complete fool of myself – knowing damn well that I should’ve just kept my butt in that chair.

I didn’t bother saying anything else to him – there was nothing to say to be honest. I just gave him a small smile before excusing myself. The girls I had been sitting with watching the interaction, hiding their smiles as I walked by.

My stride grew faster as I pushed past the dancing couples, needing the immediate feel of fresh air on my skin. I felt like an utter fool – a reject – ugly.

The cool autumn air provided me a sense of relief as my body pressed against the brick wall of the hall. I ignored the glances of those that were entering, wiping away the stale tear that would occasionally drop from my lashes.

“Carolina?”

My eyes darting over to the man standing to the right of me. “Carolina, right?” His smile growing as I looked at him confused.

I nodded, “Yeah?” My voice weary.

He took a step closer – his facial features coming to light as he stood under the singular bulb. His smile started to fall slightly as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He shuffled his feet. “Saw what those guys did back there – should’ve never happened.”

Silence struck me – my brain trying to wrap around the words he was saying.

“I’m Gale Cleven.” A twinkle showing in his blue eyes.

“Carolina Davies.” My voice cracking.

His charming smile reappeared causing the theoretical butterflies to migrate around my stomach. He was very handsome – much more attractive than the guy at the bar. “Beautiful name for a gorgeous girl.”

I watched as the birds hopped around the yard – pulling the early worm from the soggy ground. The weather mimicked my mood – dark and grey – the sun disappearing the morning of Gale’s funeral. It had been over a week – a long week – full of sympathetic gestures and “I’m so sorry for your loss” sentiments. I had sent my parents away two days ago – no longer able to take their constant supervision – hiding sharp objects and medications so I wouldn’t harm myself in anyway.

I constantly thought about it though.

Just a flick of the blade one right way or a handful of the right pills – Gale and I would be reunited, and the worries of the world would dissipate. I could never get the gumption to do it. I was positive that Gale was looking down on me – just the way the wind would blow a certain way – or a red cardinal sitting on the fence that sat in front of the kitchen window. He wouldn’t want me to reach that level of despair. He would want me to go one and be happy, but it’s hard to do so when your heart is breaking into a million pieces. It’s hard to remain happy when lying in bed, reaching across to the spot where he once slept – the sheets cold – the empty void of waking up alone every morning.

The distant sound of a truck pulled me away from my thoughts – the familiar black Ford kicking up dust as it came closer. I let out a sigh, pulling Gale’s shirt tighter around my body, hiding the thin lace of my nightgown from John’s view.

“Morning, Carolina.” His gruff voice sounding as he removed himself from the driver’s side.

I stayed silent – rolling my eyes at the sight of him. I had gotten rid of everyone except him – John was like a piece of lint that just kept popping up – no matter how many times you swept – he still lingered long after.

My eyes glanced over as he walked to the back of the truck, pulling two suitcases from the bed. Worn leather and seeing better days, he placed them on the wooden steps. “Good to see you getting some fresh air.”

Pushing out of the rocker, I retreated into the house, the screen door slamming against the frame. Muttered words slipped past his lips; his boots heavy as he followed my direction. I had made myself a pot of coffee earlier, forgetting about it until reaching the kitchen. Pouring the dark liquid into my cup and the rest down the drain, not up to sharing with the likes of John Egan. I took a seat at the table – our eyes connecting over the coffee cup as he entered the room. Silence blanketed the room as he leaned against the counter, his gaze focused on the backyard.

“Why are you still coming around?”

His neck turning – our eyes meeting once again. “Pardon?”

Sitting up a little straighter, Gale’s shirt opening slightly as I moved. “I said –“My tone low. “Why are you still coming around? He’s dead and gone – your services around here are no longer warranted.”

“And what services might those be?” His jaw clenching.

A loud sigh blew through my nose, “Those of the mighty hero – the devoted friend – the courageous major who led his team out of the trenches. Only thing –“ I paused. “You weren’t brave enough to take the bullet yourself, letting your dear friend, Buck, take the lead instead. That’s a real heroic act if you ask me, Mr. Egan.”

The words dripped with venom – John’s eyes burning with utter rage as the room acquired a deafening silence. His diaphragm moving at a rapid rate as the anger coursed through his body – his fist balled together as he resisted the temptation to start swinging.

I struck a nerve – Gale’s death was the nail that was hammered into John’s figurative coffin on the daily. The thoughts of seeing his friend being shot down – only following his commands to go over the wall to a hopeful escape. Seeing Gale’s lifeless body lying on the snow-covered ground as blood seeped from the open wounds – John deserved to see that every time he closed his eyes.

“I never claimed to be a fucking hero, Lina.” His voice thick with emotion.

I rolled my eyes at the mention of the nickname he had given me. Crossing my arms in a defensive motion as he stepped close to where I sat.

His knees cracking as he crouched down, his blues level with mine.

“You think hiding behind this hateful wall is gonna make you feel better? Sayin hateful things to the people who are just trying to help you?”

My eyes narrowed.

“Get off your high horse, little girl. Your husband was my best friend – the only person that kept me going during those God-awful days at that fucking camp. You think you’re the only one hurting – honey, you don’t even know the half of it.”  

Our faces were centimeters away – his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

Kicking my leg out as I stood, I bumped purposely into his body as I retreated to the front entrance. His bags still sitting by the door – no reason at all why they should even be in the house to begin with.

Taking each case in my hands, kicking open the screen door, I haphazardly tossed them into the muddy yard – a smile forming as they landed with a splash in the dirty water.

The thunderous sound of his footsteps met my ears, his jaw slacked at the sight of his things lying in the yard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I couldn’t help but laugh, watching as he raced down the steps, pulling the leather out of the puddle, water dripping as he held it away from himself.

It was the first time I had laughed since the news of Gale’s death – coming at the misery and expense of John Egan.

[iwasmadetobeasoldier]

Mission Report - 1963, Soviet Russia, January 5th.

//This is another random fic I write at night. Yes, its slightly inconsistent with Bucky's mindwipes and brainwashing, (my guy 🫡), but I came with this from the line in CATWS "So, he's a ghost story.", I like the concept of Bucky being a ghost story among Russian soldiers, desert and get the Winter Soldier sent after you. Hope you enjoy//

I..I can hardly forget the day I had to kill another Winter Soldier.

It was late at night, I had been sent to the Russian-[Country] border, there had been an escape from the H.Y.D.R.A. Prison I was in. The one where they kept the rest of the Soldiers. I was sent to bring the escaped back.

It was snowing very hard, but not yet a blizzard. I had tracked the Soldier nearly to the edge of the border, clearly he had intent to escape. Couldn't blame him. I had no idea at the time how bad I wanted to escape, I wanted out of that living hell I went through day after day.

The moon was hidden behind the thick clouds, darkness surrounding me. He had to be around here somewhere, he evidently left too many signs to have been careful. Broken branches, thousands of footprints it seemed, even some blood from a fresh wound.

I continued marching, my uniform not exactly designed the keep warm. It was a harness, nothing more. A restraining strap, something my handlers would use to keep me under control.

The arm creaked in the cold, the snowflakes plinking off it like hail. A reminder of who I belonged to. 

I crested a ridge, the wind whipping around me. Through the snow I could spy a camp below the ridge, it looked like a border watch. The Soldier would most likely try to hid among the others. I checked my weapon and made my way down the ridge, the snow lessening as I was protected by the wall of rock.

I could hear the border guards chatting in Russian. Something about a ghost? One specific soldier who supposedly died in the previous war, but he was still out killing. If you deserted, you were caught by the Winter Soldier.

I didn't know who they were talking about, I didn't care at the time, I didn't know what the think.

I walked straight into their midst, my eyes searching each of their terrified faces, the other Soldier wasn't here. One tried to say something but a bullet silenced him. No witnesses. That was the order. No one was to know about H.Y.D.R.A. Not even Russia's own people.

The last guard was on the ground below me, his weapon pointed at me. I knew he wouldn't shoot, even if he did, he wouldn't be fast enough. 

A bullet flew through the air, the sound of titanium ringing. Another shot. 

The guard was dead at my feet, so were the rest of them. The other Soldier wasn't here, otherwise he would have come out. Unless he was using the guards as a diversion....

I pivoted, my hyper-sensitive ears picking up the panicked crunch of snow as the Soldier ran from the camp.

I raised my weapon, cocking it and carefully aiming. It was rather an easy shot. He was foolishly running in a straight line.

Before I pulled the trigger, I heard two words in my earpiece.

"Hail Hydra."

I don't remember much after that. That night never seemed to end. I was put back under ice and....well, thawed again when they needed me. For years it was the same thing. 

I have to write this down. I'm trying to make amends, really I am. Maybe I should try and find those guards' families...see...see if something can be done.

Okay, yeah. See you later, I guess.

Bucky

James Barnes 

[xoxobuckybarnes]

March 2023 Stucky Fics

Completed

Till It Bleeds Daylight (Rated: E, Words: 44K) by cable-knit-sweater / @cable-knit-sweater 

Summary: Steve has been undercover with Hydra for a couple of months, slowly getting deeper into the organization . As he tries to figure out what they’re plotting and tries to take them down, he struggles with his past, loneliness, and keeping his cover. When he finds out about a mysterious contractor, the Winter Soldier, Steve figures he or she is the key to Hydra’s plans, but getting more information is not without risk. But well, Steve is anything but risk averse - just ask his secretive one-night-stand turned regular hookup turned …something, James “Bucky” Barnes. Or, going undercover with the criminal organization that haunted your neighborhood growing up, a Steve Rogers guide: Step 1 - Don’t make it personal; Step 2 - Don’t take unnecessary risks; Step 3 - Don’t lose your cool; Step 4 - Don’t fall in love with a hitman; Step 5 - Ignore rules 1 to 4, especially 4. Title from the song "Lovers In A Dangerous Time"

From Ice and Ashes (Rated: M, Words: 64K) by phansomedevil / @phansomedevil 

Summary: Steve asks: “How do you move on?” Sam’s eyebrows shoot skyward. He whistles air out from pursed lips. “Do you want the therapist answer or the real one?” “Surprise me.” “The truth is – you don’t get over it,” Sam says, his voice low. “Not when it’s that close to your soul. Not when he’s someone you built yourself up around. Maybe you fall in love again, maybe you don’t. It won’t feel the same. He’ll always be coming up in your peripheral.” As the bus pulls to a stop in front of them, Sam grips his shoulder. “But you still gotta keep living your life. For his memory, yeah. But mostly for yourself.” *** Steve Rogers learns what it means to be a queer hero in a complicated modern age. He tries to move on from the pull of the past, and his lost loves, but fate rarely lets him catch a break.

The Size of Perfection (Rated: E, Words: 31K) by Phoenike 

Summary: The serum enhances Steve’s physical attributes to peak condition. All of them. Unfortunately, ‘enhanced’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘optimal’ or ‘something that a fella wishes to show the girl of his dreams on their wedding night.’

Introduction to Fake Dating Your Best Friend 101 (Rated: T, Words: 24K) by crinklefries / @spacerenegades  

Summary: Bucky stares at his best friend as though he’s absolutely lost what’s left of his dumbass mind. “Excuse me?” he asks dumbly. Steve sighs and sags back onto the couch, covering his face dramatically with one large, well-manicured hand. “Dean Coulson thinks we’re dating. And gay. But like, for each other. And now I need you to fake date me so I can convince the Chancellor to fund my research.” or; Steve and Bucky are a pair of professors who have to fake date for academic purposes and are real dumb along the way. It's not so much a forest of pine as a whole landscape of it. It turns out fine, probably.

The Best Way to Wake (Rated: E, Words: 42K) by LeeHan / @leehanji

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”In which Bucky Barnes lay frozen in the Alps for seventy years only to be woken up a year after Steve Rogers was uncovered from the Arctic.

Casual Encounters (Rated: E, Words: 66K) by MoreThanSlightly / @morethanslightly 

Summary: “You have never once been careful in your entire life.” Bucky huffs out a laugh. He looks away. “Maybe I’m offended you didn’t think to ask me.” He says it like a joke, but he can’t bring himself to laugh again. “Bucky,” Steve says, scandalized. “You’re my friend. I’m not gonna use you to experiment sexually.”

Pisces Season (Rated: T, Words: 6K) by dreamsinthewitchouse / @dreamsinthewitchouse

Summary: Steve can’t get drunk because of what the serum did to his metabolism, but he still likes beer, and Bucky knows it’s because he likes the simplicity of it; likes remembering how drinking it used to feel, before the war. He watches Steve lift a bottle to his mouth and take a swig, teeth flashing. Steve has let his hair grow out a bit, which is a pretty great look on him, but the truth is that every single version of him, ever, has made something at the bottom of Bucky’s stomach twist into an unsolvable knot. Bucky knows he’s probably got what Natasha calls his smitten kitten look plastered all over his face, but just then he’s way past caring because it's Steve, now looking back at Bucky across the room, his mouth curled in a smile. Or: the one in which Bucky and Steve live happily with their Avengers family and nothing hurts (and Bucky snacks and naps a lot). Also, it’s Bucky’s 101st birthday.

A Certain Slant of Light (Rated: E, Words, 32K) by agetwellcard

Summary: Steve first meets Bucky on a Sunday morning. He's instantly intrigued by the new pastor's son with pale blue eyes and a nervous smile.

a song on a policeman’s radio (series) by rohkeutta / @rohkeutta 

How we rolled up the carpet so we could dance (Rated: E, Words: 7K) art by SulaSafeRoom / @sulasaferoom

Summary: Steve’s already showered and changed into sweats and a tank top, his hair still sticking up in cowlicks. When Bucky drags himself to the couch, still in his uniform with soot on his face, Steve takes one look at him in the soft glow of the living room lamp and opens his arms. Bucky drops the shield on the floor and crawls over Steve’s legs to collapse on top of him, tucks his face under Steve’s chin and exhales. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

our chosen homes (Rated: G, Words: 756)

Summary: “It’s been freezing,” Steve repeats as he drops the wood in front of the fireplace, throws two logs in to make sure that the fire isn’t going out. “Huh,” Bucky murmurs absently from the folds of his blanket, and Steve has to squeeze him a little as he passes, rub his cold nose against the vulnerable patch of skin behind Bucky’s ear. Bucky yelps, a high-pitched sound muffled by the duvet he’s wrapped in, and Steve laughs, kisses his ear on the way to get more water from the well.

The Same River, Twice (The Man Is Still Left with His Hands) (Rated: G, Words: 4K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary & art by amoneth / @amoneth-art​

Summary: Steve had meant to stay forever and didn’t last a year. He meant to return right back to when he left, but that doesn’t work out the way he planned either. Turns out a lot can happen in nine months.—Steve didn’t need his first month back to make him aware of just how many degrees forgiveness comes in, but some lessons feel new each time. Getting a text from Sam asking him to Delacroix for the weekend feels like one tick closer and Steve’ll take it. He’s texting back when Sam adds, Bucky will be there. And Steve? Steve’ll take that, too. A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky Endgame fix-it where a lot needs fixing.

***This fic is complete, but the series (A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy)) is not.***

Still Left with the River (The Paradox of Motion) (Rated: M, Words: 14K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary​

Summary: Coming back from as good as dead to a changed world is easier the second time around. But then Steve supposes that, like with most things, you get better with practice. A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky Endgame fix-it where even if you can’t go home again, you’ve got to go somewhere.

***This fic is complete, but the series (A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy)) is not.***

North Fork (Rated: E, Words: 62K) by BeaArthurPendragon / @beaarthurpendragon & art by Stucky1980 / @lisamott9

Summary: Sworn to silence by the Air Force after a friendly fire accident in Afghanistan, former aid workers James and Sam have come home to take over Sam’s family’s vacation rental business to escape the bad memories. Losing an arm and working maintenance wasn’t how James pictured his life turning out, but his life is good: He likes fixing things, he gets to work for his best friend, and he loves surfing every morning. Fresh out of the ice, all Steve wants is for SHIELD to announce his return and let him get back to work so he won't have time to think about all he's lost. But when his psychiatrist refuses to clear him for duty until he's dealt with his trauma, he reluctantly accepts Tony's offer of a beach house for the summer to settle his mind. Armed with a false identity and a stack of sketchbooks, his only goal is to get back into the field. He's got no intention of letting his heart defrost along with the rest of his body. That is, until a handsome maintenance man with a secret of his own shows up with a gallon of ice cream and a smile that could light up half of New York.(Written for the 2021 Shrunkyclunks Big Bang)

with all my skin and bone (Rated: T, Words: 54K) by unicornpoe

Summary: Agents Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes don't get along. With Steve's reckless attitude and Bucky's cautious, no-nonsense way of doing things, they clash from the beginning, and make enemies of each other before they can even think of being friends. But when both men are assigned to a job that will take them to the suburbs in investigation of CEO Alexander Pierce—where they're supposed to live together, to be married to each other, to be in love with each other—old feelings rise up, and new ones emerge. What happens when the person you hate most in the world has to be the person you love? What happens when the line between lies and truth gets blurred? Pining, that's what. And some kissing, too.***Steve and Bucky fall together, and fall in love.

Push It Real Good (Rated: M, Words: 35K) by spoffyumi / @spoffyumi​

Summary: The way Steve had to steel himself to ask the question made Bucky a little wary. "Will you be my partner for a Lamaze class?" For a few long moments, Bucky just blinked at him, not knowing which question to ask first. Finally he went with the biggest question on his mind. "What?"

WIP

Treading Water (Rated: M, Current Words: 96K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace & art by Dyslexic_Fetus / @reagy-jay

Summary: Olympic swimmer Bucky Barnes always believed that when the time came to retire, he would walk away with his medals and world records firmly in the history books and never look back. He never thought the water would leave him first.

***Be sure to check out the rest of this amazing series: Lane Lines: Lane Lines (Rated: M, Words: 132K), Lumière (Rated: M, Words: 5K), & New Traditions (Rated: M, Words: 6K)***

a league of their own (Rated: E, Current Words: 8K) by burning_brighter / @burning-brighter

Summary: Steve's sixteen-year-old son's one and only dream is to play in the Major League. He thinks he has a shot when the team get a new coach, retired MLB legend and Steve's high school crush, Bucky Barnes. Steve hasn't thought of the man in many years, but seeing him brings back many memories that push Steve to reach out to an old friend and maybe make new ones on the way. What happens when Steve gets to know Bucky properly? What happens when they open up about their darkest secrets and deepest fears? There's really only one thing that can happen.

An Appropriate Omega (Rated: M, Current Words: 205K) by BeauRadley

Summary: Steven Rogers, the Duke of Brooklyn, is in a bind. The provisions of his father’s will mean he must marry before his thirty-fifth birthday or lose his mother’s inheritance. The catch? He has to marry a suitable omega. James Barnes is the third child of the impoverished Barnes family. If he or his sister don’t marry before the season is out, their family will fall further into poverty. If he doesn’t find someone else soon, he’ll be forced to marry the sinister Lord Pierce. The two men realize they can solve each other’s problems, but will their marriage of convenience turn into something more?

[skyfallslayer]

Part 2 || Part 3

So... what if the MCU meet FMAB? This started with me comparing Yelena and Bucky to Riza and Roy and then this happen (It was also an excuse to play around with different hairstyles for them. lol).

Took me about an hour to write out the whole lore, and I'm sure I'll add more to it with each fanart. Might make a fic about it if anyone's interested 👀.

THE CHILDREN:

Major Peter (Stark) Parker - Aliases: “Hero of the People”, Tom (Codename), Underoos, Shorty || August 10th, 1899 (Leo) || Major - The “Iron-Spider Alchemist”

Morgan (Stark) Parker - Aliases: “Armored Alchemist”, Maguna, Armored Girl || May 29th, 1900 (Gemini)

In this AU, Peter and Morgan are full blood siblings born a year apart. Their mother dies a few days after giving birth to her daughter, and out of fear for the safety of his children from a certain “someone”, their father, Tony Stark, leaves his kids with a family friend: Maybelle Parker.

Besides looking like they could be kin, They’re given their “mother’s” last name for extra protection.

May, honoring Tony’s wishes, also never tells the children about him and what he is, and his plans for leaving; For all they know is May’s late husband, Ben, is their real father. 

The kids grow up believing May was their real mother, but sadly, an outbreak of a fatal disease takes her from them. They eventually train in alchemy and attempt the ultimate taboo, human transmutation.

The attempt fails, and Peter loses his left leg, and Morgan loses her entire body. In a split second decision, Peter seals his sister’s soul to an old suit of armor and loses his right arm in the process. 

Peter is eventually scouted out by a member of the military and is offered a way to hunt down information to regain their bodies back without any repercussions. 

TEAM BARNES:

Colonel James “Bucky” Barnes - Unit Commander || Aliases: “Hero of Sokovia”, Sebastian (Codename), King, Winter Soldier || March 10th, 1885 (Pisces) || Corporal (Pre-War), Major (During Inhuman War), Lieutenant Colonel (Pre-Canon), Present: Colonel - “Cryo-Flame Alchemist”

Bucky earned the nickname: “Hero of Sokovia” for wiping out most of the inhumans, which are the people who reside in that city. It’s a name that he detested, even more than the other nickname he got: “The Winter Soldier”.

His left arm was severely burned during the war, resulting in blotty patches/scars. 

He was originally known as the “Flame” before being rebranded to “Cryo-Flame” after learning a second alchemy type, which he turned towards after his injury (hence the ice theme nickname).

When the war ended, he was filled with guilt and disgusted how the country was run, and vowed to make sure to protect his loved ones and become Fürher.

Bucky is Roy in this AU because of the lot of similarities in their personalities. They’re both loyal, headstrong, and protective, but they’re a bit of a tease and very flirtatious. 

-

1st Lieutenant Yelena Belova - Adjutant || Aliases: “The Widow’s Eye”, Florence (Codename), Queen || June 22nd, 1889 (Cancer) || Warrant Officer (During Inhuman War) 

Earns the nickname: “The Widow’s Eye” for being the top sniper in the academy. 

Had a rough childhood, starting with her mother dying early on, and has her father’s alchemy research tattooed on her back. The only person who knows of this was her father’s apprentice, and soon-to-be boss, Bucky.

With guilt eating away, and grateful that Bucky was loyal to keeping it a secret, she decides to assign under him after the war is over, and swears to protect him for as long as she’s alive (or swears to shoot him if he goes out of line).

Despite her “stoic” exterior, she’s just like her MCU counterpart, still sarcastic and has ‘deadpan’ humor. 

Instead of Black Hayate, her MCU dog, Fanny, takes his place. 

-

2nd Lieutenant Sam Wilson - Officer-In-Charge & Medical Specialist || “The Falcon”, Anthony (Codename), Knight 

Takes place of the lovable himbo: Jean Havoc. They share a lot of similar personality traits and humor.

Earns the Nickname: “Falcon” for sharp-shooting skills.

Completely feel bad that he’ll get paralyzed in this AU too. 

-

2nd Lieutenant Peter Quill - Investigation Specialist || Chris (Codename), Rook 

Totally did not just made him Breda because they both have strawberry blonde hair 

^But honestly, I was mostly inspired to make him Breda when I rewatched the scene of Team Mustang reunited, and Breda was totally pumped with the idea of overthrowing the government. I’m 100% percent sure that’ll be something Quill would say. 

Quill’s still upbeat and sarcastic like his MCU counterpart, but just like the master thief he is, is intelligent and strategic. 

-

Master Sergeant Scott Lang - Mechanics & Communication Specialist || Paul (Codename), Scotty, Pawn 

Still has a daughter in this AU.

Both these characters are very kind and have good morals, and both can be rather stubborn if driven to a certain point. 

They’re also both great tacticians and engineers. They’re definitely the definition of “Work Smarter, Not Harder”.

-

Warrant Officer Stephan Strange - Information Specialist || Benedict (Codename), Bishop 

These two characters are very similar as well, and I chose Strange to be Falman in this AU because they both have a photographic memory. 

But just like his MCU counterpart, Strange still keeps his pride and ego, although it’s minimal here. 

He is still compassionate and can grow vulnerable to the people who are closest to him.

-

If you made it this far, then congrats? 😅 Hopefully, it wasn't too boring or overwhelming.

[themculibrary]

Established Relationships Masterlist

part two

All's Fair in Larb and War (ao3) - phonecallfromgod ned/peter T, 23k

Summary: Ned Leeds just wants to transition painlessly into college life, but that's easier said than done when Tony Stark has a personal beef with you, Liz Allan's back in town, and your roommate and your superhero boyfriend hate each other (but just don't know it yet).

A Shockingly Good Time (ao3) - Vixen13 steve/thor E, 1k

Summary: Thor insisted that his lightning could do all kinds of neat tricks. Steve discovered the hard way that it was true.

brainwashed bros (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor bucky/clint T, 3k

Summary: Bucky and Clint return from a successful mission, only to find that Bucky's childhood best friend (aka Captain America) has been recovered from the ice and is actually alive. On top of that, Loki pays a visit to Earth and brainwashes Clint. So, not only does Bucky have to worry about Steve, but now his brainwashed boyfriend.

#CapLovesBucky (ao3) - mrs_d steve/sam T, 2k

Summary: “Excuse me,” Sam cut in. He couldn’t take another minute of this. “Their relationship? What about our relationship? Nobody’s speculating about that?”

Hide The Gleam (ao3) - Rubynye steve/sam E, 1k

Summary: Sam and Steve at change of shift.

Improvisation (ao3) - mrs_d steve/sam E, 8k

Summary: Steve isn't sure what he has planned for tonight, or what Sam is expecting, but they're going to figure it out together.

Laundry Day (ao3) - Call_Me_Kayyyyy (Cheeky9274), NachoDiablo steve/natasha/sam E, 3k

Summary: Nat, Sam, and Steve have some roleplay fun during a quiet moment on the run.

Like Soldiers Do (ao3) - glittercake sam/bucky E, 14k

Summary: Before they even started this thing, they agreed it wasn't something anyone needed to know.

At work they're just Sam and Bucky; they're colleagues who are also roommates and kind of get along. It's been fun keeping it up. There's a delicious thrill in hiding it, as well as a particular, terrifying fear they both share.

many the miles (ao3) - CapnWinghead steve/sam T, 4k

Summary: After months of radio silence, Sarah Wilson travels to Brooklyn to track down her brother. When she arrives, she finds Sam living with a tall blond guy that seems to know more about him than she does at the moment.

Meet Me At The End (ao3) - NachoDiablo sam/bucky E, 4k

Summary: "If the whole universe was going to go to shit, then Bucky was determined to get in some quality hookup time beforehand."

Bucky and Sam have smack talked their way into a long distance relationship. Now it's the end of the world, and they've finally got some alone time.

One Day We Won’t Have to Be Scared (ao3) - Paraxdisepink steve/bucky E, 13k

Summary: Written for this prompt: Steve and Bucky are at a gay bar in the 30s, and some guy offers them money to take pictures of them as they fuck. They need the money, they say yes, and pretty much forget about it afterwards. The pictures come out years later.

Rings Within Rings (ao3) - marieadriana clint/phil/natasha M, 17k

Summary: Committed triad Clint, Phil, and Natasha are back at SHIELD after their Christmas getaway, and hard at work training a new, specialized squad of SHIELD Agents who have the dubious honor of being referred to as "The Scooby Squad." Takes place in March 2011.

Saltwater and Sunlight (ao3) - Rhang steve/sam E, 7k

Summary: Sam looked out on the ocean in the distance knowing Steve was out there somewhere on his way back. He started down the hill side slowly pacing himself despite the excitement he felt in his bones at knowing he would see Steve again in just a few hours.

shh, don't tell (ao3) - shatteredhourglass bucky/clint E, 8k

Summary: “You’re married, Clint?”

“Oh,” Clint says, looks down at the silver band on his ring finger. He rubs at it with his thumb idly, sees a glimmer of purple from the inner part. It makes him realize that Steve doesn’t see him without his gloves on that often. “Yeah."

squeeze me, please don't tease me (ao3) - cosmogyrals E, 2k

Summary: Sam deserves to have his ass sculpted in marble (or maybe bronzed and displayed in a museum), but Steve's pretty sure Sam would complain about all the dust everywhere if he tried. (Also, he's not sure where you buy blocks of marble, and he doesn't really know how to sculpt in stone.)

take it easy, baby (make it last all night) (ao3) - glittercake sam/bucky E, 5k

Summary: "Get on your knees."

"Make me." Comes Sam's reply. Like a symphony, a language all their own. Permission to proceed.

The sudden snap of Bucky's leather belt against the tile resounds brutally through their apartment.

"I said, on your knees, Captain."

And with a sly, satisfied, lopsided smirk, Sam goes down.

that should be me (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor steve/sam T, 3k

Summary: Steve and Sam have a steady relationship, despite the fact that they've been hiding their relationship from the public, but that's something they never had a problem with, until the Avenger's PR manager suggests that Steve gets a 'fake girlfriend' to earn positive feedback from the public. This causes some issues with Steve and Sam's relationship.

(touch me) at the seams (ao3) - welcoming_disaster steve/tony E, 8k

Summary: Tony wants more out of his relationship with Steve and gets it.

You And Me, We're Indelible (ao3) - NachoDiablo steve/sam E, 5k

Summary: Steve loses his memory on a mission and can't remember being anything more than roommates with Sam. Which is inconvenient, seeing as their one year anniversary is in less than a month.

You know you give me love (ao3) - targaryen_melodrama rhodey/sam G, 2k

Summary: It’s only once Sam’s removed his jacket and toed off his shoes that he hears the music, and finally, the last of the tension he’s been carrying for about 60 hours drains away, while a smile Sam didn’t even know he had the energy to sustain starts pulling at his lips.

[daydreamerdrew]

The story “America Dream” (written by Mark Waid; drawn by Mike Huddleston and Bill Sienkiewicz; colored by Jose Villarrubia) in Captain America: Red, White and Blue (2002) presents not just that Steve dreamed about Bucky while he was in the ice, but that Bucky’s actual spirit stayed with him as a guardian angel during that experience, encouraging him to keep fighting and holding onto life, and then leaving Steve when he was finally found by the Avengers.

Throughout the dreams Steve gets older, while Bucky stays the same.

The concept of Steve being kept going through his decades in suspended animation by Bucky reminded me of Bucky breaking through his brainwashing in Winter Soldier: The Bitter March (2014) by remembering the lessons Steve taught him during WWII.

I thought it was inventive to connect Steve not wanting Bucky to walk away into the light to Steve calling out for Bucky when he wakes up in The Avengers (1963) #4, when the last thing he had seen before being frozen was Bucky’s death.

I also liked the little bit of snow globe imagery in this story, and the emphasis in Bucky’s characterization of how highly he thought of Steve.

[enduranceofsurvival]

@littlemesseduphood // cont.

When Hydra got involved, well things rarely went well. Turning everything into chaos in moments. Honestly what had he expected? Looking for trouble usually brought trouble. But still the scowl hasn't left the former Winter Soldier's face.

But behind that scowl was the ever faint flicker of anxiety in his gaze. It was always that way if Hydra was involved. Forever haunted by his past with them, what they did to him... Never wanting to give them a second chance.

Still his not about to reveal that to his new... Was partner the right word? Or more allies of circumstance? Well they shared the same enemies for the time being, so Bucky didn't feel like he was left with much choice.

Popping the door open with a quick punch, Bucky pulls himself out of their ride... Well what was left of it. A small cut on his head trickles down his head, as he brings his scowl to Jason. "Thanks I guess..." He sighs looking at the wreckage. "We can't stay here. That explosion's gonna draw a lot of unwanted attention."

[sacredsorceress]

Lovers’ Quarrel || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: when you married your brother’s best friend in 1941, the two of you had always promised to stick together and you did just that- even following him to wakanda where you trained alongside the dora milaje. When you find out that bucky’s released zemo from prison behind your back... needless to say you’re pissed.

a/n: okay i absolutely loved this request so much @missroro​. reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, reader and bucky fighting

masterlist || request || taglist

You were pissed to say the least.

You couldn’t understand why your husband would keep something so big such a secret from you. You had spent seventy years in ice for those you loved. You had become a super soldier for those you loved. You had spent two years off the grid in hiding for those you loved... and your husband couldn’t even tell you the truth? You would have tried to understand- helped him even- but he had chosen instead to keep you in the dark, leaving you to find out about his actions second hand from those who felt just as betrayed as you.

As you stood in the threshold of the room, spotting the five men, you could feel almost nothing but rage coursing through your veins. The tension was so thick in the room, you swore you could cut it with a knife... but you decided that a spear would do.

Throwing your arm back and tossing the spear forward, you watched as it stuck itself into the column between Sam and John Walker- the man posing as your brother.

When the spear collided with the wall, everyone’s eyes immediately snapped onto you and you could of sworn it almost felt good to watch the fear in your husband and Sam’s eyes when they spotted you, knowing just by the look on your face that they had messed up... and you weren’t one to let things like that slide.

“Y/n-” Bucky began.

With a straight face you turned your head to the side, unable to look at him, instead turning your attention to the Dora Milaje as they entered the apartment.

“Even if he is a means to your end... time’s up.” Ayo spoke in Xhosa before switching to English. “Release him to us now.”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning into you, but you remained steadfast, watching the scene unfold in front of you.

“Hi. John Walker.” The new Cap attempted to introduce himself. “Captain America.”

Although you were enraged beyond compare upon finding out that the government had chosen a new man to take your brother’s place, you almost wanted to laugh at how poorly he was handling the situation.

When neither of the two women in front of him said anything, he continued.

“Well , uh.” John said. “Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?”

God, he was handling this poorly, wasn’t he? You would find it funny if he wasn’t so incredibly ignorant.

“Hey, John, take it easy.” Sam said looking between you and the two other women in the room. “You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.” John insisted.

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.”

Rather than standing to the side and allowing the group of skilled warriors to take what- or rather who- they wanted and leave, Walker couldn’t help but instigate.

As soon as his hand landed on Ayo’s shoulder, you knew he would regret that decision.

Immediately the two women began fighting- one taking on John Walker and the other Lemar. You had known the women long enough to know that they could handle the situation themselves without breaking a sweat. Still standing in the doorway, you crossed your arms watching as one began choking Lemar with her spear, the other sticking her spear into Steve’s... John’s shield.

Quickly glancing over to the other men, you caught Bucky and Sam staring at you on the sidelines, whispering to one another. As soon as you caught their line of vision you glanced away, focusing once again on the fight taking place in front of you.

Right as Ayo held her spear above John, fear written all over his face, Bucky stepped in, pulling Ayo back. Recalling why you were there in the first place, you immediately uncrossed your arms, striding over to the other side of the room, able to feel the rage flowing through your veins.

Pulling your spear from the wall, you marched up to your husband pulling him away from Ayo.

“Y/n,” He eased. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Oh you want to talk about it?” You asked, shoving him backwards with the spear. “That’s funny, Buck.”

Dodging your blows, not wanting to fight you, Bucky continued backing up and reaching for the spear to keep the metal from meeting his skin.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” He exclaimed.

Pushing harder with the spear, you grunted, kicking him to subsequently shove him back against the counter.

You asked yourself if he really thought saying ‘sorry’ would work. You knew your husband wasn't dumb enough to believe that there would be no consequences for breaking Helmut Zemo out of prison- a man who not only caused the split of the Avengers, but also killed the king of Wakanda- a place full of people who had shown you and your husband nothing but kindness. They had given Bucky a new chance at life and had given you the opportunity to train among the most expert fighters you had ever met- the Dora Milaje. They had given both of you more than you could have asked for when your life went sideways eighty years ago. So when you had received the call that Bucky had broken Zemo out of prison you could barely believe it.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Buck!” You shouted.

Knocking him back one last time, you recalled what they had taught you back in Wakanda when Bucky had first received his new arm- a trick you had hoped never to have to use, but as you stood there fighting your husband, anger fueling you in a way you had felt only a few times before, you didn’t see another way.

Moving your hand in the exact pattern you had learned years ago along where his shoulder met his chest, you listened as the the metal clicked and watched as his vibranium arm fell to the ground beside him, Bucky looking up at you with his eyes wide.

You had to shove back the part of you that felt your heart break in your chest watching the look of betrayal in his eyes. Recalling why the two of you were in this position in the first place, you stood up straighter, clearing your throat.

“You are sleeping on the couch tonight, Mr. Barnes.”

Holding the spear straight beside you, you turned your attention to Ayo who opened the doors to the bathroom, only to find Zemo missing. Instructing the other warrior to drop Cap’s shield, the two women left, leaving you behind with the four remaining men in the room.

Shoving past your husband, you dropped your spear onto the ground, making your way over to Sam and smacked him across the back of his head.

“Shit!” He exclaimed. “What was that for? Don’t get me involved in your little lovers’ quarrel.”

“Lovers’ quarrel?” You asked him, laughing. “I’ve been Mrs. Barnes for eighty-two years, Sam. I’ve put up with a lot of shit, but don’t act like you two didn’t just break a criminal out of prison. A criminal who- need I remind you- tried to brainwash Bucky and killed King T’Chaka.”

“Don’t look at me.” Sam said, throwing his hands up in the air. “That was all Bucky.”

Immediately your eyes snapped back to your husband who was standing across the room, attaching his vibranium arm to his shoulder once again.

“Thanks, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

Before any of the rest of you could say anything, the voice from the other side of the room caught your attention. Following the voice you saw John Walker huddled against the table, his friend reaching his hand out to him.

“They weren’t even super soldiers.” He mumbled, staring off into the distance.

Despite the fact that you still didn’t approve of the ‘new’ Captain America, you felt your heart tug in your chest as you watched the man break down over to the side. You felt sorry for him. You knew better than any other living person the weight the shield and legacy carried being both the adopted sister of Steve himself and the wife of his best friend.

Although you were pained watching a new man undermine your brother’s legacy, you couldn’t help but pity him.

Making your way over to John you reached out your hand to him. Looking up you could finally see the recognition in his eyes, realizing who you were. Immediately he took your hand, pulling himself to his feet.

“You’re-” He started.

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Walker.” You said, before making your way over to the couch. “No one wins a fight against the Dora Milaje. I got my ass handed to me every day that I trained with them.”

Despite the fact that you were telling the truth- you lost to each one every time you fought- you enjoyed every second of it. It was a relief.

After discovering that your husband, Bucky, was still alive after decades apart, you couldn’t stand to let him out of your sight again. When Steve had brought Bucky to Wakanda with the hope of clearing his brain of the programming he had endured under Hydra, you followed him there. Despite the fact that your husband was in your arms once again, you couldn’t help the thoughts that took over your mind every day- everything that you all had lost, the memories of what you had endured and the worry that Bucky would never be the same again.

The pain of being knocked around by a member of the Dora Milaje’s spear was almost therapeutic.

Rather than replying, Lemar pat his friend on the back, nodding to the rest of you within the room before guiding his shaken friend out the door of the apartment.

“You’re being too friendly with him, Y/n.” Bucky said.

Snapping your head to the side you glared at your husband.

“What are you? Jealous?” You asked.

Rather than answer you, Bucky crossed his arms.

“I just think you’re being a little too nice to the guy that’s ruining Steve’s name-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, you pushed yourself off of the couch, striding over to your husband, shoving your finger into his chest.

“Don’t tell me how to feel, James.” You told him seriously. “He was my brother. I wouldn’t have chosen that guy to take on Steve’s name either, but don’t get mad at me. You’re the one who fucked up and lied about going on this mission with Sam. Do you know what it felt like to get a call from Ayo to find out that you not only lied to me, but you betrayed the people who have been nothing but kind to us?”

Staring at you, he could tell how not only angry you were, but also distraught. The both of you had gone through hell and back and Bucky was thankful every day that even after all these years he was able- by some miracle- to still find you eighty years after the two of you had supposedly died. He had suffered through so much and done so many things he could barely look at himself in the mirror for, but at the end of the day you continued to not only be there for him, but to love him anyway.

A part of him felt awful for not telling you- he hated lying to you and you had every right to know- but after your brother had left the two of yours’ lives, he didn’t want to put any further strain on you than you had already endured.

He knew once he freed Zemo that you would find out, but as you stood in front of him he almost wish he hadn’t so you wouldn't be feeling this type of way.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Bucky said. “I didn't... after everything with Steve I didn’t want to get you involved. You deserved a break, doll.”

Relaxing your shoulders, you sighed, resting your hand on his bicep.

“And what about you, Buck?” You asked. “Don’t you deserve a break?”

“That’s different, Y/n.” He said. “I need this. You know I do.”

You knew he did. You had been there while his guilt kept him up at night, waking him up after only a few hours of what you could barely call rest. You knew that his past had been eating away at him, especially since Steve left, and that doing something wholly good might bring him some semblance of peace.

“I know.” You said, meeting his eyes. “So I’m going to help you. We’re in this together, Buck, okay?”

Despite the fact that he wanted to keep you as far away from danger as he could- something he could never manage considering you had been fighting alongside the Avengers since before he had even gained his memory back- he knew he couldn’t say no to you.

“Alright.” He agreed.

Gently squeezing his arm you gave him a soft smile.

“Glad to see you guys are good.” Sam quipped. “Incase you forgot Zemo’s now on the loose and the back of my head stings like hell.”

Smiling and turning to, Sam, you playfully swat his arm.

“Please.” You laughed. “Big, strong guy like you? You barely felt that.”

“Listen I’m not a super soldier like you two.” He said, pointing between you and Bucky. “Remind me not to mess with your kids some day. Last thing I need is getting knocked out by some kid with two super soldiers for parents.”

“We should go find Zemo.” Bucky said clearing his throat, changing the subject.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. Let’s go.”

Not one to argue, Sam threw his hands up in the air, leading the way out of the door of Zemo’s apartment. As your foot was about to cross the door, however, you felt Bucky’s hand wrap around your arm, pulling you to the side.

“So do I still have to sleep on the couch tonight?” Bucky asked in a hushed voice.

“Oh honey,” You cooed, patting the side of his cheek before laughing. “You’re not getting out of this one that at easily.”

Watching from his spot on the steps as you picked up the pace to catch up with Sam, he crossed his arms smiling to himself. Steve was right when he said that he was going to be okay... as long as he was with you, how couldn’t he be?

[therealrosebuddies]

Zipper Problems

“Don’t know why they changed zippers.” He continued, his other hand grabbing the fabric of the dress. It was his metal hand- and it was cold. You shivered at the contact and Bucky stopped, sizing you up.

“Cold metal.” You explained, a little quicker than you would’ve liked.

Bucky hummed in response, tugging at the zipper.

It didn’t come down.

Description: Reader has a wardrobe malfunction and Bucky Barnes is the only one around to help out. You'd think these two would be smart enough to outthink a mini dress, but you'd be wrong.

A not so short one shot- that could easily turn into a longer story. I just wanted to dip my toes back into writing for Bucky, so I just wrote something based on the last episode. I had fun with it, so maybe I'll start writing again!

Warnings: none, sexual tension I guess haha

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, though all the other characters from Falcon and the Winter Soldier are present.

“You know, you're looking a lot worse off in the light.” Sharon remarked, looking you up and down. You couldn’t blame her.

The mini-dress you wore was trying to ride up, dirty and out of place on your body. You were covered in melted slush, the intricate hairstyle you had created sagging off the top of your head like melted ice cream. And you weren’t even going to start on the amount of skin you were showing. You couldn’t pull the dress up and you definitely couldn’t pull it down, so you were stuck in the uncomfortable middle. It had felt weird to be so exposed and on display, but now you just felt tired.

Well, all of you did. When you entered the room, Bucky had been the first to sit down, crashing against the nearest couch. Sam had helped himself to the rack suits, ready to get out of his get-up. Zemo got a drink. You had just stood there, not seeing an option for yourself.

Luckily, Sharon had noticed.

You moved a broken strap with the back of your hand, nodding in agreement. Sharon had the hint of a smirk on her face, gesturing toward a far room.

“There’s some better clothes in there. Pick something a little more manageable- but nice.”

You nodded, awkwardly keeping your arms cocooned over your chest. You hobbled over into the room, ignoring the eyes that followed in your wake. Upon swinging the door closed, you kicked off your heels, letting out a sinful sigh as you freed yourself. Leaning against the wall, you massaged the base of one of your feet, scanning the room as you took a moment to decompress.

It was a nice room. Big, with simple but expensive-looking decor. There was a small bed against the wall, sticking out into the middle of the room. Your eyes roved over the soft material of the bed and for a moment you thought about jumping in.

Realizing what you were thinking, you rolled your eyes, shifting your weight back onto both feet. Eyes drifting towards the closet, you hobbled over and nudged open the door.

Sharon was loaded.

You knew that already- but it was still a surprise to see the line of expensive outfits pressed and tucked in together. You drew your hand across the row of clothes, smiling at the soft feeling against your rough hands. Eventually, your focus landed on an outfit. It was another dress, black, with a longer skirt and a couple tracks of glitter. You weren’t sure if you would need to look like a convincing escort- so you thought it rational to choose something with a skirt. This one actually had sleeves and a high neckline, still managing to feel a bit tactical. Not too crazy, but definitely not casual. The material was going to hug your curves, but at this point, you’d rather have anything besides the mini dress.

You pulled it from the closet, reaching back with one hand to unzip your dress. You fumbled against the fabric, trying to find the zipper. You inched your hand upward, shoulder aching. After a few moments, you switched positions, dropping the nice dress against the bed and going back in with both arms. You flailed around for a few more moments, eventually coming to the conclusion that your arms couldn’t bend that way. The zipper was in the exact place that you couldn’t reach it, no matter where you put your arms.

You sighed, dropping your arms. There was no way to just slip off the dress either, it didn’t work that way. You glanced at the door, gathering your courage and marching back over. Hovering at the door, you pressed your ear against the wood, hearing nothing but silence. You let out another sigh and opened the door.

No one was in the room. At least, no one you could see at first. You glanced around in confusion, wondering if they had decided to leave you.

Then you saw Bucky, unceremoniously sprawled on the floor. The view of his body had been blocked by the coffee table. He was staring up at the ceiling, almost as if he hadn’t heard you.

You glanced around the room again, inching out of the doorway.

“Bucky?”

The super soldier grunted, keeping his gaze on the ceiling.

You crept closer, the padding of your feet echoing around the room.

“Is Sharon still around?”

At the sound of your wavering voice, Bucky turned to look at you, forsaking the ceiling. He took in your expression of embarrassment, perplexed.

“No. She’s prepping Sam and Zemo.” He explained, sitting up. “Did you need her?”

“No… no. Well, I mean, kind of…” You fumbled with your words, biting your lip and inhaling slowly as Bucky stared up at you. “I just needed her to unzip my dress.”

The former Winter Soldier’s eyes widened, just enough that you were able to notice. He nodded slowly, his gaze snapping onto the floor as if to play off his surprise. You would tease him, but you realized the implication of the act- especially for a guy from the forties. That, and you were a little too tired to joke.

You let out a small breath, glancing around the room. You needed to change now. It was embarrassing- especially if your stalled costume change held up everyone else. You glanced back down at Bucky, mouth pressing into a straight line as the feeling in your chest tightened.

“Can you…” You hesitated, catching Bucky’s eye. “...unzip it for me?”

You could’ve sworn you heard the man swallow, gaze dropping from yours.

Bad idea. Stupid.

You opened your mouth to brush it off, to insist that you could get the dress off yourself. Instead, Bucky rose to his feet, eyes trained on his feet. Neither of you spoke for a moment and you were looking at him in confusion, waiting for him to speak. When you didn’t move, Bucky met your eyes, staring as if he was the one waiting. You cocked your head at him and he seemed to flush, gesturing with his hands.

“Are you going to…” Bucky swung his finger around in a circle, eyebrows furrowed. Your eyes widened, getting the idea.

“Oh.Oh, okay.” You spun around quickly, clasping your hands together in front of you.

This was embarrassing. Why did you feel so nervous?

It was just Bucky.

Then you felt his breath on your neck. You almost jumped, your entwined hands clenching together tightly instead. You should’ve known that was going to happen. It was normal when someone was unzipping your dress- they had to get close to grab the zipper. You knew it wasn’t a big deal.

So why did it feel that way?

“What kind of zipper is this?” Bucky muttered, the back of his hand grazing your skin as he grabbed onto the metal.

You chuckled lightly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Don’t know why they changed zippers.” He continued, his other hand grabbing the fabric of the dress. It was his metal hand- and it was cold. You shivered at the contact and Bucky stopped, sizing you up.

“Cold metal.” You explained, a little quicker than you would’ve liked.

Bucky hummed in response, tugging at the zipper.

It didn’t come down.

Bucky made a sound of confusion, yanking the metal again. You fought the smile that crept across your face, realizing the problem.

“Buck-” But before you could explain, Bucky tugged again, a little too hard. The clasp snapped and the zipper shot down, the small of your back suddenly exposed to mild air of the room.

You yelped instinctively, hands scrambling toward you back as Bucky grabbed at the broken metal, frantically offering apologies.

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s okay-”

“It just wouldn’t come down and I-”

“Bucky-”

“Where’s that stupid little-”

“It’s fine-”

“Why did they change zippers?”

Bucky had his hands pulling tight at the fabric of the dress, keeping the dress from opening any more than it already had. The pressure on your body was tight and his grip had unknowingly moved you closer to the super-soldier, your back almost grazing his jacket.

You let out a calming breath, ignoring the fact that with any move you could lose the small piece of fabric covering your body. You glanced back at Bucky, who had his gaze snapping around across the floor.

“Did you drop the zipper?” You murmured, quiet as if not to spook him.

“Yeah.” He admitted, sounding just as lost as you did.

Eyes closing and heart twisting, you looked up slightly, trying to cope with the situation. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Sure, you were pretty exposed, but Bucky was a friend. It was awkward as would be expected in the situation. But something felt different. As you thought about it, it didn’t feel awkward at all. You had been wrong. It felt...

You slowly glanced back toward Bucky. He met your gaze and for once, you didn’t shrink away. There was this blooming feeling in the pit of your gut, growing at the same speed your cheeks flushed. His close proximity was rattling, as if you hadn’t been close to him before. You had- but it hadn’t been like this. This was different- your back was brushing his chest and the strength of his arms was pulling at your waist. His shaky breath was ghosting across your skin, sending shivers down your exposed spine.

Oh god.

You were almost naked.

It was completely silent now- but there was a weight to the silence. Something you couldn’t describe. You pursed your lips, wondering if it would be better if you just. stopped. looking. at him.

Bucky’s eyes wandered as if he was thinking, his grip on your dress unwavering. You watched him, unable to think yourself out of this situation as your stomach did loopty loops. You didn’t watch where he was looking- you couldn’t. At the moment you were at his mercy, his hands the only barrier between you and losing your dress. He came back to focus on your wide eyes, and your heart jumped into your throat.

Suddenly, the door on the far side of the room slammed open. The two of you jolted, Bucky recovering a bit quicker than you as he readjusted the shifting dress in his hands. You scrambled to get a hold of the fabric as Zemo walked through the door. The man stopped, taking in the compromising situation with a look that made your skin crawl. As soon as you managed to press the dress against your sides, Bucky stepped in front of you, shoulders raised. You glanced up at his back in surprise, stunned by his suddenly towering stance.

“Having fun?” Zemo asked, his level voice verging on taunting.

“It wasn’t like that.” Bucky responded, trying to keep his voice just as level- but no one could’ve ignored the edge in his reply.

“Of course…” Zemo relented, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Bucky didn’t relax.

Glancing around his arm, you stared at Zemo, then looked back in forth between the two. Bucky’s jaw was clenched, his brows set dangerously over his eyes. Zemo still looked smug, his hand toying with something in his jacket pocket.

Trusting him was dangerous for all of you. Sam had made that known. At first, you felt like Bucky had been nonchalant about it, that he had somehow moved on from Siberia. But at that moment, you knew that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Your eyes fell back to his hands- the vibranium arm squawking slightly at the pressure of his grip. You straightened up behind Bucky, pressing your shoulder lightly into his back.

“It’s fine.” You insisted, stepping out from behind him to glare at Zemo, “Nothing needs to be said.”

The convict raised his eyebrows, baiting you to argue. If it had been a few years ago, you would’ve flipped him off. You probably would’ve yelled. But now you were just tired... and didn’t really feel like giving him the time of day. You blew a short breath of air from your nose and glanced back at Bucky, ignoring the creep. His jaw was still tense, his body turned toward you, but had his gaze boring into Zemo.

“Hey.” Bucky’s head turned toward you, dragging his eyes from the source of anger, “Sorry. I’m going to…” You pointed back to the door with a sympathetic shrug.

Bucky seemed to remember what he had been so protective about in the first place, eyes widening as he realized. “Oh, yeah- go, go.” Bucky insisted, tearing his eyes away as you let out a loud sigh of relief and scampered backward into the bedroom.

You slammed the door behind you, back pressed hard up against the wood. Cheeks burning so hot you could fry an egg on them, you let out a small groan, quiet enough that you were sure no one else would hear.

Had that really just happened?

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, gritting your teeth. With the movement, your dress fell unceremoniously to the floor, puddling around your legs. You glared down at the wine-colored mini, scowling.

“I hate you.” You hissed, kicking your leg and sending the garment flying into the bed.

Because of that stupid dress, Bucky was no longer just your friend. How could he be, when the feeling of his breath was seared into your brain? Just the thought of it sent a thrill of excitement down your spine.

You blinked at the thought, realizing something with dread.

You had a crush- a big, fat, mission-wrecking crush.

And unbeknownst to you- so did Bucky Barnes.

[wolf-stark]

I originally posted this idea [no I didn't steal it] on a tiktok comment under another young woman’s video, so if you saw that there, no you didn’t.

The context of the video was a young woman talking about people being annoyed that people are saying Magneto can’t be in the MCU because it would be hard to explain why he’s alive when he was originally born in the 1920s/1930s, so she just assumes that people are just extremely uncreative. And I came up with a way they could make it work within the MCU and commented it. Now I’m going to post that here. [I’m using Earth 616 information as my basis]

Magneto was born as Max Eisenhardt was born in 1930 [no specific day or month given] in Nuremberg, Germany to Jakob and Edie Eisenhardt. Also known Erik Magnus Lehnsherr. In July, 1942, the Eisenhardt family escaped from Warsaw, where they’d moved to in 1940. They were caught and all but Max/Erik were executed for trying to escape. Max became Erik when his wife, Magda, and daughter, Anya, moved to Vinnytsia [or around the time, it doesn’t fully explain when he officially changed his name but it was after WW2 ended]

[I promise this part is relevant] James Buchanan Barnes aka 'Bucky'/Winter Soldier/White Wolf was born March 10, 1917 to George and Winnifred Barnes. In October 1943, James Buchanan Barnes was imprisoned as a Prisoner of War and was beaten until he was too weak to continue and then became a test subject for Arnim Zola to use his super soldier serum and Barnes himself became a version of a Super Solider. In 1945, James Buchanan Barnes fell from a Schnellzug EB912 train rail and fell into the icy cold Danube River. Barnes survived thanks to Zola's super soldier serum but his left arm was lost in the process of his fall. He was found by Soviet soldiers and imprisoned once more but was quickly 'sold' to Zola after his own release from the SSR's custody. From around August 14, of 1945, James Buchanan Barnes became the first subject of the Winter Soldier Program which also would put him into a cryogenics box and kept him frozen until which time HYDRA needed him to kill someone. James Buchanan Barnes lived from 1945 to 2014 using the cryogenics by HYDRA, but he was released from their physical hold in 2014, was removed from life in 2018 and returned to life in 2023.

Magneto is well known for going after Nazis. And That is what Hydra is, although they did get a bit convoluted with supposed-Good Guys™ S.H.I.E.L.D and had to do Good Things™ in order to keep their Evil Doings™ under wraps. It's said that after Magneto's daughter died in a house fire and his wife ran away from him [after he killed everyone who prevented him from saving his daughter] Magneto infiltrated Hydra enough to steal Nazi Gold and use it to fund himself hunting down Nazi war criminals.

Hydra kept James Barnes on ice to control him. It would be easy to say that Magneto was captured and his ice box malfunctioned and that's why he's in the MCU now. Magneto being one of the biggest threats to Nazis and Hydra deciding to take him out but failing to do so [Death of his daughter anyone?] then capturing him, putting him on ice to try and figure out how to control him/his powers, then realizing they couldn't because he's stubborn and powerful so they leave him in the ice box for over decades (from ~1950 to 2026 = 76 yrs) until it finally malfunctions [as all tech does eventually].

And because we know everyone wants to see a full 'House of M' family then they can have it so his DNA helped in making Wanda and Pietro's powers come to fruition [maybe they're his descendants because his wife left him while pregnant (in some comics), so her child has a child who had a child who had a child etc etc etc who had a child who had the twins and their powers were latent mutant abilities [hidden under years of genetics never triggering a recessive Mutant gene via the generations] brought forth by the Scepter. [The amount of generational difference, like whether Magneto would be their father or grandfather is up for debate depending on how old their parents were when they had the twins, and if they were young enough (think mid-teens) then Magneto could even maybe be their great-grandfather]

And then they could say that Magnetos baby making DNA was extracted as a thorough HYDRA test to see if they could create a human with his abilities that they could control {or they used his DNA, extracted his X-Gene and injected it into an IVF embryo and she was born to a woman who didn't even know what happened to her unborn child} and thus Lorna Dane was born, but she was kept from HYDRA when her mother broke out of Hydra's control while pregnant [maybe during Hydra's fall in 2014]. This would also work to manage Lorna's origin story of the Plane vs her parents, given that her parents didn't know she had powers in the first place and her parents were arguing about infidelity during the plane ride so, maybe Lorna has some markers [like lets say her eye color doesn't match her parents, men have asked for paternity tests for less] that make her father question if she's his. When in reality, technically she is but she'd mutantly Magneto's child.

And it would also work if Magneto disappeared in the Snap and came back in the Blip and his icebox was malfunctioning due to no care during the Snap because there was no one inside it.

Then Lorna Dane would be about twelve in-universe in this version of the story and would be being raised by her aunt with magnetism powers and green hair. It's possible to make it work. [They could always chose a further back birth time for her and bring Emma Dumont in to play Lorna again]

And we'd keep the continuity of Wanda and Pietro having some relation to Magneto but in this case, they were never told they were related to him [because Traumatized Magda never told her child who their parent was and thus it was just not common family knowledge] and we'd maybe even get to see a scene where Magneto tells Wanda {because I don't think she's dead} and Pietro {because he needs to be resurrected} that he's disappointed in them for joining Hydra.

And that's how Magneto ends up in the MCU and still remains a Holocaust survivor because it's integral to his character to be such.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bent, not broken 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; violence; injury; blood; fingering, mean Steve

This is a dark!fic and features the winter soldier and Captain Hydra x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: An attack leads to the uncovering of decades old secrets when you are taken by the deadliest assassin in the world

Note: Here’s part 3. Right now I’m bouncing between things but open to suggestion for the upcoming week for ongoing series. (I’ll likely just add onto my Lee fic).

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The days passed like a pendulum, swinging between paranoia and suffocating tension. You felt like an animal caught and caged. Much of your time was spent in that room, abed and alone. Your only contact was when Steve brought you your meals but the soldat did not appear again. You were relieved not to have the silent watchdog around but it also made you uneasy.

The pain dulled. Your shoulder loosened up first and no longer sent a jolt down your arm every time you moved. Your ribs were another issue and even as the agony was less intense and consuming, the echo of the injury remained. You felt brittle as if one wrong move would break you completely.

Then, when the pain was not so strong to distract you, you grew restless. The walls seemed closer together and the meals further apart. Steve’s appearances were brief and mostly wordless. He’d linger to check on your injury or bark at you to eat, but he wasn’t as talkative as your first day in the hideaway.

There was little for you to do. You were left with a copy of War and Peace and the tight font often left your eyes fuzzy and fatigued, your mind as well. There was a booth hidden behind the narrow door and you washed when you felt up to it, the water ice cold. You spent much of your time staring at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse on you.

You weren’t stupid. You knew it was all methodical. The indifferent isolation. You were being conditioned like a dog with a bell and it was working. You longed for any contact, any company, and conversation.

That day, the door opened but you didn’t move. You laid with your head on the pillow, arms crossed, and one leg over the other. Steve placed the metal bowl on the nightstand and sighed as he stood by the bed. You felt him watching you as you ignored him for the pale white above.

“Sit up and eat,” he said.

You glanced at him. The scar through his eye wrinkled as he grimaced and tapped his fingers on the table. You shrugged at him and sighed.

“I’m not hungry,” you said.

“Eat,” he repeated.

“I will,” you relented, “when I feel like it.”

“Now,” he grabbed the bowl and put it over your chest, “come on.”

You rolled your eyes and sat up and took the bowl. His eyes clung to you as you bent your legs and stirred the thick oats. The goopy mixture made a gross noise as you did.

“You don’t like it?” he said.

“Bland,” you took a bite, “doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t,” he rebuked, “you better be done by the time I return.”

You looked at him as he turned away and headed for the door abruptly. You choked down the thick porridge and took another bite. You were hungry but the pasty oatmeal went down like rocks.

When he came back, you scooped up the last mouthful and put the bowl aside. He neared and draped a lilac dress by your legs. You stared at it then looked him in the face. His expression was as impenetrable as the mountain compound.

“What is that?” you asked dully.

“Don’t be stupid and put it on,” he put his hand on his hip, “I’d say it’s a bit more fitting than that prison uniform.”

“Is it?” you grumbled as you tentatively reached for the purple fabric.

“Or you can go naked,” he reached out and jabbed your shoulder.

“Fine,” you turned your legs over the bed and watched him expectantly.

He raised a brow and waited. You shied away at his unflinching stare and swiped up the dress. You crawled to the other side and kept your back to him. You took off the shapeless shirt and dropped it behind you. You pulled on the dress and stood, pushing down the baggy bottoms. The dress floated at mid thigh and left you feeling exposed.

“Your ribs are healing,” he remarked, “you should be able to take the bandage off.”

You faced him as he went to the foot of the bed. He waved you over and continued to the door.

“Should get the kinks out,” he said as he set his thumb in the sensor and the metal slid up, “a proper tour is in order.”

You neared as he turned and waited for you to precede him. As you passed, his eyes slipped down your body and he tilted his head. You looked away quickly and carried on into the hallway. There was little point resisting a man who could break you in two with his pinky, especially in your state.

“Looks good,” he said as he followed you out and came up arm to arm with you, “you know, you, me, the soldier, we’re the only ones who know about this place. Not that you know much, huh?”

“I don’t like games,” you retorted, “I’m… tired. Please, don’t--”

“I found this place in 1955,” he led you along the shining halls, “it’s had a facelift since then. A hobby on the side. Used to be Stalin’s hideout, akin to Hitler’s bunker if anything ever went south. When he died, the co-ordinates were lost. They sent me out to find it…”

“They? Hydra? Why--”

“Because the other guys didn’t care,” Steve said, “I saw how they celebrated my death as some patriotic feat. Like I was just a shield. You know, the ‘bad guys’, at least they don’t try to lie about what you are. They use you exactly like they need to and don’t sugar coat it.”

“And your… friend… you like how they use him?”

Steve stopped short and caught your arm, “it’s best for him. He couldn’t handle a clear mind. We keep each other safe, like we always did.”

“Mmm,” you hummed.

“As I was saying,” he nudged you onward, “I gave them a fake map and all they found was a demolished bunker. It kept them happy and me too. I got a place to lay low. Place of my own.”

You turned down the next hall. You were quiet as he led you along, past that room with the bar and around another corner. You lost sense of direction as he took you deeper into the hideaway. You came into a large corridor with a glass wall that overlooked a mountain pass without. You were breathless as you stopped to peer through.

“He’ll hurt you again,” Steve said bluntly, “we both know that.”

“Then why keep me here? You can let me go. I wouldn’t say a word, I wouldn’t even know what to say--”

“And why would I do that?” he asked blithely as he admired the deep drop and jagged offshoots.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“It’s much more fun to keep you,” he chuckled, “and he wanted you so taking you away won’t do shit.”

“I don’t--”

He raised his finger and hushed you. He squinted as he listened but you didn’t hear anything but the winds on the other side of the glass. Steve’s mouth slanted and he stepped past you. You turned to the end of the corridor and heard a soft padding that grew to a tremulous stomp.

“Speak of the devil,” Steve taunted, “sounds like a rough mission.”

When the soldier emerged from the next hall, you gasped. His face was a smear of grit and blood, his locks dangling and slick around his mask. His gear was torn and gashed in places and his metal fist clenched as the plates of his arm bore even more scratches than before.

He stopped and his eyes dilated as he saw you. Steve went to him calmly and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you’re back,” he said softly, “snap out of it.”

He tapped the mask so the soldat looked at him instead. Their eyes met as the soldier’s chest puffed and slowed. Steve’s other hand went to his chest, just over his heart. The captain leaned in and kissed his temple, issuing a whisper you could not hear.

You were too shocked and confused to do more than watch. Steve gripped Bucky’s jaw and turned his gaze onto you. He smirked as he held him.

“Look at her,” he slithered, “isn’t that what you wanted? A pretty little plaything.”

The soldat didn’t move, just stared.

“She’s all ready for you,” Steve let go and clapped his chest, “isn’t that a nice dress, huh? A nice peek of her legs… don’t you want to know what’s underneath? Don’t you want to touch it?”

You took a step back as goose bumps rose on your skin. Steve released him and snickered. The soldat brought one boot down and then the next, marching slowly towards you.

“Let’s have some fun,” Steve boomed and his eyes narrowed over Bucky’s soldier, “soldat, engage.”

His next step came down quicker and you spun on your heel. Without thinking, you dashed away in a blur of terror. You could hear him behind you, the heavy soles thunderous against the slap of your bare feet. You got around the next corner and your ribs throbbed painfully as your lungs burned.

You peeked over your shoulder. He wasn’t running, he was walking. A mock of a chase as he kept within sight even as you raced on. Your heart pounded in your ears and your legs felt like jelly. It was so long since you did more than pace your room or lay in bed.

You stumbled deep in the maze, all recollection of the path Steve led you on gone. You hit your knees on the hard floor and hissed. You had only a moment to gulp down air before you were seized by the back of your neck. You staggered as you were spun and your back collided with the cold wall.

The soldier’s metal hand was quick to grasp your throat and push your chin up as he held you on tiptoes. You clawed at his fingers as his other hand crept up your thigh. Your eyes watered as it felt like a vice was wrapped around your neck and chest. You quivered as the skirt caught on his hand and slowly rose with his touch.

You squeezed your thighs around his fingers and he poked you so harshly you whimpered. Your legs parted for him and he pushed against your bare cunt. You clung to his wrist as your other hand slapped at his bicep. His blue eyes focused on your skirt as he delved between your folds.

Your feet arched as you tried not to slip and your calves cramped. You whined through your teeth as he turned his hand and pressed the heel of his palm to your clit. He bent his finger into you and drew a pathetic yipe from you. He felt around inside and added another, eliciting another tremulous yelp.

“Pl.. please,” you rasped, “don’t… you don’t want to…” his eyes flicked up and met yours.

He paused as he gazed back at you and you squirmed. He hesitated and for a moment, it felt like he might drop you. Another set of footsteps approached evenly and Steve tutted as he came upon the scene.

“You shouldn’t play with your food,” he said, “go on. You know what you want to do. It’s why you took her.”

You choked as his fingers tightened and he buried himself to his knuckles, his hand firm to your clit. He rocked his hand and your body, every tilt sending a jolt through you. Your walls were scoured by his intrusion and your core thrummed at the distant stirring of instinct.

“Please…” you cried.

“Shhh,” Steve came closer and leaned on the wall next to you, “we don’t want him to break something else.”

“Wh-why--” you coughed.

“Faster,” Steve snarled, “make her feel it.”

The soldier lifted you off your feet with each dip of his fingers. You slapped your hand against the wall and reached for the captain. He swatted your hand away and backed up as he watched you. He rounded Bucky and peered at you from the other side and hummed. He sucked his teeth and came closer, his hand on the soldier’s shoulder.

“More,” he urged.

You closed your eyes and shrieked as his hand sped up, slamming into you over and over as your thighs clamped around him. You gritted your teeth as your pulse raced and you were swept up in a sudden fit of dizziness. You felt fire flickering from his touch, building and building a spark at a time as your body rebelled.

“Look at her,” Steve purred, “so weak, so small. Nothing. She’s not like us, she’s just one of them.”

You groaned as your cunt made slick noises around Bucky’s fingers and his hot breath glossed over you. He leaned in and his hand moved so that his thumb pressed along your jaw painfully. You whined as you felt as if he’d crush the bone.

“She’s almost there,” Steve mused, “faster, yeah, like that.”

You wailed as you came, terrified of the man before you and the way your body bent to him. Your nails grazed down the leather across his chest and your hand dangled limply as you let the tide wash over you. He kept on until you could hardly breathe and dropped you suddenly. Your legs folded and you crashed to the floor.

You kept yourself from keeling over onto your face and pushed your back against the wall. You peeked up as Steve took Bucky’s hand and licked his glistening fingers. You cringed as he let go and his attention turned on you. He knelt and exhaled deeply as he smirked at you.

“You want to know why?” he blinked and his nose scrunched sardonically, “because I didn’t want this. I was happy. Just me and him. Decades and he decides to go out and catch a pet.”

“No, I…” you rubbed your throat as it burned.

“Him, I know, but it doesn’t hurt any less,” Steve scowled, “but we can make it work.” He reached to you and brushed his thumb over your cheek, “I can make use of you. Just the way you took his fingers, that look on your face…” he retracted his hand and leaned his elbow on his leg, “and he could use an outlet. Something to ease the tension.”

“You… and him?” you wondered aloud.

“It’s the twenty-first century, isn’t it?” Steve stood and slapped the soldier’s ass. He got a sharp look in response, “not that it ever really mattered.”

“It’s not… I just didn’t… realise,” you rasped.

“Mhmm,” Steve intoned, “you’re just innocent.”

“I didn’t--”

“Get her up,” he ordered, “take her to our room and get her cleaned up. You too. You smell.”

You flinched as the soldier grabbed your arm and forced you up. Your thighs quaked in the after shock and your core ached. He pulled you away from Steve and you limped beside him. You shivered as the cold air enshrined your hot flesh.

“No touching,” the captain warned, “not until I say so.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

Another love by Tom Odell. Tell me that Bucky wouldn't send this to his girl when things were getting difficult for him emotionally

ANOTHER LOVE

a/n: no idea if this was meant to be a prompt but i couldn't stop thinking about it so i wrote it lmao

pairing: Bucky X Reader

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

Life hasn’t been the fairytale either of you deserved. Things just don’t turn out as perfect as they to in movies and sometimes you fall for the wrong person, too deep probably, and it makes you feel like you will never find the right one.

After everything Bucky had been through he fell for a woman for the first time in decades and though he put all his faith in her, she wasn’t the right person for him. He was ready to give her everything he had and love her with all his heart, but she didn’t want it. She didn’t deserve it. Leaving him heartbroken when she left, thinking that maybe loving someone and be loved by someone is just not meant to happen to him.

Then you came into his life.

Being a nurse working beside Dr. Cho at the Tower, you ended up stitching him up quite a lot following his missions. Bruises, cuts, even bullet holes, you’ve seen them all on his body and though Bucky hated to appear vulnerable, you somehow made him feel at ease when you were cleaning him up, humming whatever song you had stuck in your head that week.

You bonded over music from day one. As a person who likes all kinds and genres, you were his number one source when it came to modern music. You made him Spotify playlists every week, making him listen to the best songs in your opinion and he listened to them all. Not just because they really were good songs but because he was ready to do anything you asked him to. You had him wrapped around your finger in a blink of an eye, but when things were about to take a turn, he backed out. At first, you just thought you misread the signs and that he didn’t even like you like that. But then you heard Banner and Nat talk about how Bucky keeps talking about you and that everyone in the Tower thinks that he is in love with you. So instead of letting him get away with it, you confronted him.

That was when he told you about the woman that hurt him before. The way she broke his heart and made him think that he is not worthy of being loved. And you listened to his every word patiently, though you wanted to smack that woman so badly for hurting such a wonderful man.

“Just because she couldn’t appreciate your love, it doesn’t mean that you are not worthy of receiving or giving love. Because you are,” you told him as your hands reached for his metal one, taking it between your palms. You knew how insecure he felt about it and you wanted him to know that you loved every part of him, even the ones that wasn’t entirely made of him.

“I don’t know if I’m the right guy for you, Y/N,” he shook his head, doubting his worth once again.

“You are, because I want you. And I know that you’ll try your best to be the right guy for me even though you already are,” you chuckles and reaching up you cupped his face in your palm.

That day you made a silent promise to take it slow and just find your own pace with each other. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, loving is already complicated enough, but Bucky’s state of mind was an even messier issue. However you refused to give up on him.

Weeks went by and your usual routine started to change slowly. Bucky didn’t only come to see you when he had an injury to take care of, you went on dates or just hung out after your shift. You were always there when he returned from a mission and he never let you leave the Tower without him, he always walked you home, even if he had work to do.

Everything seemed to be on track. Right until one stupid fight ruined everything.

Sam always had a flirty manner in his act. He liked to chit-chat, compliment you, but it was always just friendly. However, when one day he and Bucky returned from a mission, both of them with quite a few injuries, they ended up under your hands as you worked on their wounds, cleaning and bandaging them.

“Darling, your hands are gifts from God,” Sam sighed when you applied a cooling gel to one of his burns before you covered the injured skin. “Or maybe you are an angel yourself,” he then added, making you chuckle.

“Stop it, I’m just doing my job.”

“And you are so damn good in it. I’m one lucky man,” he grinned at you, but before you could say a word, Bucky jumped off the stool beside him and marched out of the room as if he was just triggered into being the winter soldier again. The door shut close behind him, he walked out without even glancing in your way and he left you all confused. You exchanged a look with Sam before you finished up his wounds and mumbling an apology you went after the grumpy soldier that just left.

Stepping out of the room you spotted him at the end of the hallway, sitting all by himself.

“Hey, why did you leave?” you asked, sitting next to him.

“No reason,” he answered without even looking at you, keeping his gaze at the tiled floor.

“That’s so not true. I know something is wrong. Please, just talk to me!” you pleaded, placing a hand to his arm, but his eyes snapped at it right away and made you think you did something wrong.

“I was just not in the mood to listen to Sam flirting with you,” he hissed.

“Then why didn’t you just tell him to stop?” you asked, knitting your eyebrows together.

“Because… I don’t have the right to act all possessive over you.”

Technically, he was right. You weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but everyone in the Tower knew you were something. You wanted him to be possessive, to make men stop flirting with you because he thought of you as his. You were so close to it too, but now you felt like you were going backwards again.

“Well, you can easily have the right, Bucky. You know that,” you told him, praying he would take the desperate hint you’d been trying to send him these past weeks.

“Y/N, stop,” he breathed out, closing his eyes.

“Why? Would it be so hard to be more than just friends? Am I not good enough for you?” you asked, speaking thoughts you’ve been harboring these past times even though your rationality knew they weren’t true.

“You know that’s not the case!” he snapped, standing from his seat so you did the same. “It’s me, Y/N. I’m the problem and you know that.”

“You are not a problem, Bucky! How many times do I have to tell you that? I’m not the one who broke your heart, I want to be whatever you need me to be, Bucky, but you are shutting me out! I’m getting tired of telling you the same thing over and over again, because you don’t seem to be listening!” you replied angrily, letting out all the pent up tension you’ve been carrying around. “I feel like I’m talking to a wall, you just keep ignoring what I’m saying. And I want to be patient with you, I would do anything to make you happy, but I can’t do this if you don’t cooperate with me.”

You turned around and marched back into the room before he could say a word, leaving him completely stunned and in panic that he is losing you.

That day you went home without him for the first time in months. Not because he wasn’t there to walk you home, Bucky waited for you at the hall, but then he was informed that you left early. It was a clear message to him that he needed to get his shit together if he didn’t want to lose you.

Eating all your feelings away, you sat on your couch that night with your favorite ice-cream, watching reruns on TV, hoping to take your mind off of a blue eyed soldier, but you didn’t succeed. He was all you could think about and the thought of losing him made you want to cry yourself to sleep and never wake up.

When your phone’s screen lit up with a message, you were shocked to see a text from Bucky. Only that no words were in it, just a link that led you to a song on Spotify.

Another Love by Tom Odell.

Even though you knew the song well, you still listened to it, tears rolling down your cheeks as you focused on the lyrics, because you knew it had a message from Bucky. A quite emotional one. You listened to it again and again as the singer sang about feeling like he put way too much of his energy into another love and that he fears that he won’t love his current one the way she deserves. You knew that this was exactly how Bucky felt like, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to give you everything you wanted because he had been hurt so badly before and it broke your heart to know that he was ready to live a lonely life because of his misbeliefs.

Eager to see him as soon as possible, you grabbed your bag and was about to head out, but when you tore the door open you found the man you were looking for already standing on your doormat.

“Bucky!” you breathed out with teared up eyes. “How long have you been standing here?” you asked, holding the door open for him to come in.

“Since you started listening to the song,” he answered with a soft, tired smile. “Like a hundred times,” he then added, making you chuckle even through your tears. “Y/N, I’m sorry for the way I acted today. It’s just so hard for me to put myself out there again. I know that you’re not her, that you’re different, but still, I can’t help but think that it will happen again,” he told you, his voice dying down at the end. Stepping closer you cupped his face in your hands as you stared back at him.

“Putting yourself out is never easy, but you have to do it sooner or later, Bucky. And I promise you, I won’t do the same thing that she did. She didn’t deserve your love, she didn’t deserve you. Don’t punish yourself for her faults,” you pleaded as he leant into your touch, his eyes fluttering closer, his thick eyelashes fanning on top of his skin under his eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” he whispered, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

“You are not a mess,” you shook your head. “But even if you are, we can be a mess together,” you chuckled and his eyes finally opened as a small smile stretched across his handsome face.

“That sounds good,” he nodded softly as he leant closer and rested his forehead against yours. “Will you wait for me? To fix myself so I can be the man you deserve?” he asked, so out of breath as if he just ran a marathon.

“I’ll be right here, listening to all our playlists until you’re ready,” you chuckled softly, as he smiled back at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek as a silent promise.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!