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wannabespacesmuggler · 1 month ago

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PLATONIC ➵ S. WILSON

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Bucky has no idea how two people who have known each other for two decades can be so blind to their feelings for one another. At first, it was somewhat comical, the two of you dancing around your obvious attraction for one another, but Bucky has grown tired of pretending that your relationship is strictly platonic.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF (some angst if you squint), mutual pining, mentions of Riley (CA:TWS), Bucky meddling in your relationship, mentions of the Blip, alcohol consumption, Reader and Sam being two oblivious idiots in love, no use of y/n

Word Count: 3.8k

Song Inspo: "Platonic" by Ryan Hurd

Author’s Note: So, I saw Brave New World in February and haven't been able to stop thinking about Sam Wilson since. The x Reader tag for my boy is absolutely lacking so I decided to write something for my cap. Hope you guys enjoy some good ole Sam Wilson fluff. Let me know what you guys think and if you have any Sam Wilson x Reader recs on tumblr. Please, I'm desperate.

“You know you could just ask him out, right?”

You choke down your beer, nearly spitting it out as Bucky speaks up beside you. The two of you have been quietly sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at the shitty, hole-in-the-wall Irish pub that Sam insists on frequenting whenever all three of you are in D.C. at the same time. The little tradition had started as a coping mechanism after the three of you were blipped back into existence. You remember Sam begging you to accompany him to O’Malley’s the first time. And you remember sitting between your best friend and Bucky Barnes — it looked almost comical, an ex-Hydra assassin, a former Air Force pilot, and the newly named Captain America drinking a beer together. At first, you thought that Sam had asked you to come as a way to get you out of your house after everything that happened, but as the three of you sat in uncomfortable silence together, you realized that Sam brought you as a buffer. In all the years you’ve known the charismatic Sam Wilson, you never met someone he couldn’t talk to.

And then you met James Buchanan Barnes.

Unlike Sam, you quickly fell into a cordial friendship with Bucky once you broke the ice. He’s both headstrong and cocky but also observant and aloof. People who meet him in passing might comment on how quiet he is, but you know he’s incredibly opinionated — hell, you made the mistake of commenting about baseball during your trio’s second outing together and had to listen to the man complain about the Brooklyn Dodgers moving to LA for a good thirty minutes. But what really bonded you with Bucky was Sam. You know that when Bucky looks at Sam, he sees what Steve saw in him — the man that Captain America decided was worthy of his mantle.

He reminds you of Riley in many ways, and that’s why Sam had a more challenging time getting on board with the three of you hanging out together at first. Because for so long, it was just you, Sam, and Riley. You met Sam at boot camp, and then you met Riley shortly after. The three of you ran pararescue missions together — Sam and Riley clad in Exo-7 flight suits while you manned the C-130, which, thanks to a big government contract with Stark Industries, integrated cloaking systems and environmental blending. Then, on a routine mission, Riley got shot out of the sky, and suddenly it was just you and Sam. Sam became a PTSD veteran counselor, you got a piloting job with SHIELD stationed in D.C. to stay close to him, and then the two of you became regulars at O’Malley’s due to its proximity to both of your apartments. A part of Sam was afraid that he was replacing Riley by inviting Bucky into the space you share with him, but he had made a promise to Steve before he’d gone back in time with the infinity stones. And slowly but surely, the two became close friends, bonding over shared military stories, their musical tastes, and their deep respect and adoration for you.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Bucky scoffs at your question before taking another swig of his beer. He knows you’re playing dumb — the two of you have been participating in this same song and dance for the better part of a year now. Two months into regularly drinking with Sam and Bucky at O’Malley’s, you drunkenly confessed to Bucky that you harbor feelings for your best friend. He pretended to be shocked, but he knew about your little secret after first meeting with you and Sam. Bucky may be a tad out of touch with new social norms — the man hasn’t participated in the dating scene since the 1940s — but the act of pining hasn’t changed over the decades that have passed.

“We’re just going to pretend you haven’t been brooding all night after Sam got whisked away by those girls?”

You roll your eyes at Bucky’s question. The annoyance weaved into your expression doesn’t come from a place of malice but instead draws from your frustration at how well Bucky understands you. Sam will always be your best friend, but Bucky has become something like a brother to you over the past year — an empty role in your life since Riley passed away. And after all, Bucky is an older brother — a protector — at his core. He may have lost his little sister a lifetime ago, but the instincts were still there, buried deep down until you and Sam showed up in his life.

“Brooding is your thing, Buck.”

“Exactly. So, can you stop stepping on my shoes?”

A smile tugs at your lips as Bucky playfully nudges you with his elbow. You know he’s trying to lighten the mood, and his humor has made you feel a little lighter; however, there’s still a gnawing in the pit of your stomach as you watch one of the girls slowly slide their hand down Sam’s arm. Bucky follows your gaze and lets out a tired sigh.

“Seriously, kid. What’s stopping you from just asking him out?”

“He’s my best friend, Buck.”

Bucky arches a brow at your reasoning. You say it as if it’s the answer to all of your heartache — as if it’s a valid excuse to hold yourself back from happiness. He has no idea how two people who have known each other for two decades can be so blind to their feelings for one another. At first, it was somewhat comical, the two of you dancing around your obvious attraction for one another, but Bucky has grown tired of pretending that your relationship is strictly platonic. He’s been trying to intervene, but whenever you think about confessing your feelings to Sam, you immediately talk yourself out of it. And Sam isn’t any better. Bucky’s tried to talk some sense into him at least a dozen times, but he’s sure you don’t feel the same way about him.

“I could always set you up with one of my friends.”

“I’m fairly certain you only have two friends, and they’re currently at this bar, Buck.”

Bucky rolls his eyes as he finishes his beer.

“Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of you and Sam.”

He places the empty bottle on the counter along with a five-dollar bill before layering his leather jacket over his long-sleeve t-shirt. It’s a mild spring day, but you know he doesn’t wear the extra layers for warmth. They’re worn for the same reason as his leather gloves — security that his shiny, metal arm is covered. Bucky spares Sam one last glance before turning his attention back to you. You’re nursing the beer in your hand, simply waiting for Sam to notice you again. He gently grabs your shoulder with his good hand, and Bucky’s heart breaks in his chest as you look up at him with sad eyes.

“Just think about it, okay?”

You nod at his question, and Bucky releases his hold before heading home for the night. With a sigh, you finish your lukewarm beer and order another while waiting patiently for your best friend. Sam Wilson has always been the life of the party — the man who shines like a ray of sunlight even on the darkest days. But the Captain America mantle came with a newfound attention that Sam seems to revel in. You, however, find yourself struggling with it — it had been just the two of you for so long, and now you feel like you’re sharing him with all of America.

But little do you know that even now, with the entire bar vying for his attention, Sam feels drawn to you like some invisible string is pulling him back. His eyes scan the crowd at O’Malley’s until they find you. He gives you a bright, genuine smile — the kind that leaves you grinning from ear to ear. You watch as he excuses himself from the lively conversation and approaches you. He slides into the seat beside you, shoulder bumping against yours as he leans into your space to grab the beer in front of you. You shoot him a playful glare as he takes a drink out of your beer bottle, and he winks at you in response. He places the bottle back in front of you before speaking.

“Bucky already left?”

“You know the old man — has to be home before bedtime.”

Sam laughs while throwing an arm back across your chair. You don’t even think twice about the action; Sam’s done it at least a thousand times at this point.

“Are you ready to get out of here?”

You give him an eager nod, desperate to get some fresh air. Sam laughs at your reaction before paying both of your tabs. Like in the bar, you don’t think twice as Sam slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you walk down the streets of the nation’s capital. Not even as he walks up the five flights of stairs with you to your apartment, unlocking the door with the key you gave him ages ago. Not even as he moves through your apartment as if it were his, opening your fridge to grab two beers and rifling through your junk drawer to find the bottle opener he knows is in there. Not even as Sam falls asleep on your couch again after a night of talking for hours. You don’t think twice because this is how it’s always been between you and Sam — it’s always been comfortable, domestic.

But, for some reason, tonight is different. As you sit on your kitchen counter, finishing your beer, Sam’s loud snores from your living room are drowned out by Bucky’s words from earlier this evening ringing in your ears. This is what your life has always looked like, but is this all it will be — waiting for your slice of Sam’s increasingly divided time? You’re happy for him. Truly. Sam deserves everything that the mantle of Captain America comes with — the attention, the popularity, the spotlight. You’re overjoyed that the world is finally seeing what you’ve seen in Sam all along, but a small part of you is jealous. And that jealousy is starting to eat you alive.

You sigh, downing the last of your beer before sliding your phone out of your pocket. Scrolling through your contacts, you find Bucky’s name. You listen to the phone ring twice before Bucky answers your call. Concern is evident in his voice as he says your name. You rarely call him this late, but you know you’d talk yourself out of this in the morning.

“I’ll do it, Buck. Set up the date.”

“It’s about time, kid.”

You spend the rest of your agonizingly slow week second-guessing that phone call. Hell, you almost call Bucky at least a dozen times to cancel the date altogether — to simply state that Bucky’s advice is ridiculous and you’re perfectly fine with your current situation. But, ultimately, you decide this is for the best. If your goal is to get over your absurd crush on Sam Wilson, then you actually need to start working on it. So, even though you’ve managed to worry yourself sick on Friday, you still manage to get yourself ready that evening and leave your apartment. A small smile pulls at your lips as you stand outside the address Bucky texted you several days prior. You’re thankful he chose a casual ramen spot for the blind date. It makes the whole experience a little less high stakes — like you could leave at any time with limited consequences.

With an exasperated sigh, you finally bite the bullet and pull open the door to the small establishment. The bell above you rings, and you’re greeted by a friendly man behind the counter, telling you to sit wherever you want. You turn towards the quaint dining room and, to your surprise, see a familiar figure sitting at one of the tables. Sam Wilson looks just as surprised as you feel. Your feet move on their own accord as you approach your best friend. He looks nice — clad in a maroon polo and his nicest pair of jeans.

“What are you doing here, Sam?”

You found it strange that you never received your weekly text from Sam asking you about your Friday night plans. But you concluded that either Bucky told him about your blind date or Sam planned a date for that evening as well. But this was an outcome you never expected.

“Bucky set me up on a blind date with one of his friends.”

Your brow furrows at Sam’s confession.

“Bucky set me up on a blind date with one of his friends.”

Sam looks at you as if you’re speaking a different language, and embarrassment washes over you as you realize that you’re right: Bucky Barnes only has two friends, and they’re currently looking at each other stupidly in a family-owned Ramen joint. Anger rushes through your veins as the realization sets in, but Sam still looks dumbfounded.

“So, Bucky set us up on a date.”

“Oh.”

You wait for him to continue, but he just sits at his empty table, at a loss for words. Usually, the silence between the two of you is comfortable; however, right now, it's excruciating. You suddenly feel about two inches tall as you stand before Sam. As the room gets twenty degrees warmer and the walls begin closing in, you decide it’s probably best if you get out of here.

“This was a stupid idea.”

You turn away from Sam, but before you can take a step towards the door, he grabs your hand. The contact causes you to look back at your best friend, whose gaze is surprisingly tender. Your body relaxes ever so slightly, and, against your better judgment, your hand tightens around his.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

His tone is genuine, but there’s still that voice in the back of your head gnawing at you. There’s no way that your best friend suddenly wants to go on a date with you. That shit doesn’t happen in real life. This isn’t a movie — he hasn’t been waiting almost two decades for this exact moment to express his feelings for you. You keep your expectations low because although Sam is a superhero, this isn’t a fairytale. Still, you let him gently tug your body into the seat across from him.

“You don’t have to do this, Sam.”

Sam’s brow furrows, and a look of genuine confusion washes over his features. He studies you for a moment before speaking.

“You think I don’t want to go on a date with you?”

You roll your eyes at his question. This whole conversation is ridiculous, and it’s beginning to feel like Sam and Bucky are pulling a practical joke on you right now. But Sam looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer, so you play along even though you aren’t happy about it.

“C’mon, Sam.”

Sam simply arches a brow at you with a bewildered expression, and for a moment, your resolve falters. What if this is real? What if this isn’t some stupid joke between Sam and Bucky? What’s the harm in just letting this moment play out? With a sigh, you look up at Sam, who is still studying your features.

“Sam, I’m pretty certain that if you were interested in me at any point in the last twenty years, you’d have asked me out by now.”

Sam huffs out a laugh at this, and suddenly, he looks embarrassed. This reaction confuses you. Sam is a confident man — he’s rarely self-conscious about himself or his decisions.

“Yeah, about that…”

Your heart lurches in your chest as he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he tries to find the right words. And as he meets your eyes, there’s an emotion in his gaze that you can’t quite place.

“What is it, Sam?”

Sam sighs before speaking.

“This isn’t just platonic for me.”

Suddenly, your world comes to a screeching halt. This feels like an out-of-body experience — like some sort of dream — and you’re pretty sure if you pinched yourself right now, you’d wake up alone in your apartment. But that doesn’t happen. You’re really here with Sam, having this conversation.

“How long have you felt like that?”

Sam looks away from you as he thinks for a moment, wanting to give you an accurate answer.

“After we helped Steve with Hydra in D.C., seeing you in the hospital put things into perspective.”

You were working as a SHIELD pilot for almost two years when Sam went missing with SHIELD’s two most wanted fugitives: Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. Because of this, it didn’t take much convincing for you to ignore your orders and help Steve stop the launch of the helicarriers. Bucky, acting as the Winter Soldier at the time, had taken out most of SHIELD’s air support; however, you and a group of four other pilots managed to get your birds into the air. Although the stakes were high, a part of you felt like it was old times — watching Sam soar through the air in his Exo-7 flight suit from the cockpit of your F-35 Lightning II. The fight was going well until Bucky nailed your left wing with a large piece of debris, causing you to go into a downward tailspin. You attempted to stabilize your aircraft but ran out of time. So, you decided to pull your parachute, but to your horror, the cord was stuck. Sam, grounded due to his broken wings, watched helplessly as your fighter slammed into the Potomac River. You were found by search and rescue after the helicarriers were destroyed and woke up in a hospital bed three days later. Recovery was agonizingly slow, but Sam never left your side — except to check on Steve every so often in the room next to yours. The memory brings a small, sad smile to your face.

“That was ten years ago, Sam. What stopped you from telling me?”

“Other than everything that happened after that? You’re my best friend — I didn’t want to risk that.”

You suppose he’s right. There was rarely a moment of downtime after you recovered from your fall into the Potomac River. The two of you immediately threw yourselves into helping Steve track down Bucky, and just two years later, all four of you were wanted fugitives due to the Sokovia Accords. Between the years you spent living on the run and the years you lost to the blip, there was rarely a quiet moment until Thanos was finally defeated — until now.

“For me, it was after Riley.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up at your confession, obviously not expecting for you to have fallen first. But, despite his excitement at this revelation, he stays quiet, letting you continue if you want.

“After losing him, I couldn’t help imagining it being you who got shot down that day. The idea haunted me in my nightmares, and I realized that if I lost you, it would be a different kind of grief.”

Sam’s face softens, and he reaches across the table for your hand. He wraps his hand tightly around yours, grounding you back into this moment before speaking.

“You never have to worry about losing me.”

You scoff at his words, giving him an incredulous look.

“You’re Captain America, Sam. Running head first into danger is your job.”

“Okay, fair. But I have a very compelling reason to stay alive.”

You laugh, attempting to cover up how flustered you feel due to Sam’s words. It doesn’t work. Sam smiles as he notices the effect his words have on you. He could get used to this — flirting with you until you’re bright red and stumbling over your words. It’s undeniably cute, and he can’t believe it’s taken him this long to do it.

After your emotionally charged conversation, you both need something to eat. The two of you both order ramen, and Sam doesn’t let go of your hand until two bowls are set down on the table. You enjoy your meal while Sam occasionally nudges his knee playfully into yours under the table before offering you a flirtatious smile. The conversation that flows between you doesn’t feel forced or uncomfortable — it feels both familiar and somehow brand new. The two of you had been navigating the grey area between romantic and platonic for so long that it feels almost liberating to look at Sam and know his true intentions.

After Sam pays the bill, giving the establishment's owner a generous tip, the two of you fall into step with one another as you walk toward your apartment. The walk isn’t drastically different from the thousands you’ve taken before. Sam still slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side — except this time, you move your hand up and intertwine your fingers. He still walks up the stairs with you to your apartment, unlocking the door with the key you gave him ages again — except this time, he leads you by the hand up all five flights. And he still moves through your apartment as if it were his, opening your fridge to grab two beers and rifling through your junk drawer to find the bottle opener he knows is in there — except this time, as he places the beers behind you, he doesn’t move away. Instead, he keeps his hands on the counter, one on either side of your body, caging you in. His expression is soft, illuminated by the lone fluorescent light in your small kitchen. And there’s an adoration in his gaze that makes you feel lighter than air.

Steve’s words, from what feels like a lifetime ago, ring in your ears as you look up at Sam Wilson, who stands just a breath away: "As the world's expert on waiting too long, don't."

Tired of waiting, you grab Sam by the front of his polo and pull him into you, locking your lips with his as your chests bump into each other. It’s not a picture-perfect kiss; it’s a little sloppy and frantic, but it’s the type that makes up for the twenty years you spent dancing around your feelings for one another. Eventually, you break away from each other. Sam rests his forehead against yours, and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen graces his face — the man looks like sunshine incarnate as he studies your features.

“I should have done that ten years ago.”

The laugh that escapes you is melodic — a goddamn symphony to Sam’s ears. And he can’t help but kiss you again. And again. And again. In an attempt to make up for lost time and to prove to you, this was never just platonic.

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 year ago

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4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology.

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily.

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically.

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough.

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay.

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?"

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall. "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you.

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard."

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

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Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @literaryavenger @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @thealloveru2 @belleofthebooks @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @love-isnt-greed @hhiggs @winters1917 @blackhawkfanatic @calwitch @learisa @daybleedsintonightfa11 @eviltinkerbell14 @torntaltos @terry2227 @behindmygreyeyes @lillianacristina

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

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highonmarvel · 1 year ago

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hi hope ur doing well. i was thinking, could u do a buckyxreader where hes paralyzed and like needs a caretaker. through some means reader ends up as the caretaker and all is well. but actually bucky was just pretending and hes not realy paralysed and he just pretended to get closer to reader and reader start expresing the idea that she might have to leave for whatever reason and buck does not like that so like he kidnaps her or something. I rlly luv ur work this is the first request iv sent

this is so good, i’m upset i didn’t think of it first. i’m so sorry for taking so long to get back to you, i really hope you enjoy, and thank you so, so much for the love. okay, here it is:

Himalayan Salt

Bucky Barnes: You’re assigned to a notoriously grumpy war vet, but he’s different with you.

content warnings here!

You nod as your supervisor goes over your final notes: James Barnes, World War II veteran, quadriplegic.

You follow her from the overcast weather into a beautiful but modest home in a fairly quiet suburb to meet the man sitting in a wheelchair in the centre of the room.

“Good morning, Mr Barnes,” your supervisor calls, tucking her clipboard under her arm as she waits for him to turn around. When he does, you’re surprised. You hadn’t seen a photo of him beforehand as this had been a pretty impromptu assignment, but you’re sure you were told he was born in 1917, yet he sits looking like he’s in forties, and aging well, at that.

“Hi, Mr Barnes!” you smile warmly at him, and he returns a friendly smile, introducing himself as Bucky and insisting you call him that.

“I just need you to fill out the last of the forms quickly,” your supervisor mutters, waving goodbye to Bucky as she leads you back out to her car.

You’re leaning against the boot of her oldish, red car, pen scratching against paper when she says, “He really likes you.”

“Hm?” you offer, raising your eyebrows but keeping your eyes focused on the form.

She leans her back against the trunk and shifts down a bit, speaking to you but looking over at your handwriting, “He’s known to be grumpy. You see the left arm? I don’t think he likes being dependent, I’ve had to swap out a lot of people.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before I took the job?” you frown, still finishing off the document, “Didn’t think I could handle it?”

“I know you’re capable, but I thought you wouldn’t want it. But listen, the organisation needs this, I don’t know if there’s anyone else we can find for him.”

You complete your signature with a satisfied smile, handing back the clipboard, “Don’t worry, I can do this.”

She nods then gets in her car and drives away, leaving you in the driveway. You stretch your arms then make your way back inside. When you enter the living room, there’s a draft you swear wasn’t here a few minutes ago. Bucky hasn’t moved, but you notice an open window. You furrow your brows as you look down at him, “Can I close that? It’s a bit chilly in here.”

“Go ahead,” he nods, and you walk over, pulling the handle it, and ignoring the recent-looking fingerprint marks on the glass.

***

A few hours into your first day, you’re a little taken aback by how friendly he is; even despite your boss’ warning, you’ve never had a patient so willing to co-operate, especially not veterans — they tend to be angry they need help, or have episodes due to PTSD, but Bucky seems perfectly in his right mind and understanding of both his and your position.

“Did they tell you I was a pain in ass?” Bucky asks before opening his mouth for a spoonful of food.

You laugh as you pull the spoon back, scooping up more of the rice and curry you made to lift to his lips, “Kind of,” you admit, “Said you were grumpy, is that true?”

He smiles, “I tend to be,” he confesses, “But I can’t keep that brooding persona up around you,” he takes a spoonful.

“So that’s what it is?” you raise an eyebrow as you pile the last of the meal onto the utensil, “A persona?”

He swallows the last of it and shakes his head with a grin, “No, but I can’t not be amused around you.”

***

You have no idea why your supervisor said he was difficult, your next few weeks with Bucky are light and fun, and you feel you’re even developing a friendship. You don’t see to him at night, and he has minimal needs during the day — some days it just feels like you’re there to keep him company.

You’re doing so well, in fact, that your supervisor wants to transfer you to a veteran from Vietnam who’s apparently even worse than Bucky (by other people’s stories — to you, if he’s anything like Bucky, he’ll be nice to see), convinced you have some magic touch.

As much as you’re developing affection for Bucky, you have to put work first, and you’re compelled to leave him for the other man who clearly needs you more. Bucky seems to be doing well, you’re sure you can’t be that special, and you’re sure someone else could take care of him just as well, if not better.

“Hi, Buck,” you greet with a smile as you close the door behind you. You hear his motorised wheelchair come rolling down the corridor to greet you.

“Hi, why could you only come in at ten today?”

You usually come in at seven on weekdays and eight on weekends.

“Sorry, I had a meeting,” you sigh, setting your tote bag down as Bucky switches his chair to manual.

“A meeting?” he asks as you take hold of the handles and push him to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Mhm,” you nod as you open the fridge, rummaging around for something to make, “There’s this other guy my boss wants me to help,” you call with your head still in the cold, “A Vietnam vet, no one else in the org will take him.”

You emerge with some eggs and milk, shutting the door with your foot before placing the contents on the island, “Did you eat? I assume Carol made breakfast but I can make more.”

“Are you going to take it?” he inquires, ignoring your question, “The job.”

“I mean, maybe,” you answer, placing your hands on the counter and tilting your head as you think, “I’m not sure yet.”

“But what about me?”

“The other guy needs full-time care, I’d have to spend virtually all my days there, but if I leave, Carol can take over for me, she can go from night to day, she’s amazing, and she doesn’t complain about you, at least not as much,” you wink, but he doesn’t crack a smile.

“Bucky, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s just that—”

“It’s your job, I get it,” he replies, and you can see the stoicism build up.

“Nothing’s final, yet,” you say as you walk over, “And you’re doing great either way,” you give him a kiss on the forehead, “We don’t have to talk about that, let’s just eat, I’m starving.”

He nods and attempts to smile, but you can tell it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You try to make conversation as you make yourself an omelette, but you can tell he’s not in it, giving short answers and not reacting to your jokes. When you reach to grab the salt, he stops you.

“Not that one,” he says, “Use the pink salt, Himalayan, I swear it makes everything tastes better.”

You grind some onto your food and sit across from him on the island. Digging your fork into it, you see something flash across Bucky’s eyes. Your first thought is hunger, but he’d just eaten and swore he wasn’t hungry. You ignore it as you bring the fork to your mouth, savouring the taste, though it’s not necessarily a chef’s rendition.

It tastes fine, but there’s something off. At first, you think it must be the salt, but it’s not the taste that’s off; usually when you eat, you feel that warmth in your throat and then your stomach, but now, it’s like it went to your head. You press a hand to your forehead, feeling like you’re burning up. Trying to stand, you immediately sway, only not falling by gripping the counter so harshly and hastily you bend a nail. You try to look to Bucky to tell him you’re not feeling well, but he’s out of focus. In fact, he’s not there. Just as you collapse and close your eyes, you feel a tall shadow over you, but you don’t have time to figure out where it’s coming from before you fall unconscious.

***

You groggily wipe at your eyes when you finally stir before turning over to reach for your phone, at first thinking you had had a dream, but your phone’s not there, and the nightstand isn’t yours. You shoot up in panic and look down at your sheets: Bucky’s sheets. Okay, maybe Bucky rang Carol and she came and set you in bed. Your head still hurts, and everything’s a little hazy.

When the door opens, you expect to see Carol, but it’s Bucky.

“Bucky!” you gasp as you throw the sheets off of you.

He gives a lopsided grin, and for the first time you notice how tall he actually is, because he’s standing.

“Christmas miracle?” he offers.

He walks over to you and sets a glass of water on the bedside table.

“That Himalayan salt is really exotic, isn’t it?”

You don’t even have time to process exactly what he means by that, he’s still standing over you, using his arms and legs just fine, in fact, like he’s been doing it every single day forever. You should have suspected something was up; how could a paralysed man stay in such good shape? The thought briefly crossed your mind once when you ran your fingers over his muscled arm, but you brushed it off.

“Bucky! You- you—”

“Are perfectly fine, I am, and you will be too, soon, those drugs just need to wear off. I know you’re having trouble understanding, just drink some water and sleep it off a little longer.”

He leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead, but you dodge him, nearly falling off the bed in the process.

“Woah, there,” he chuckles as he catches you with ease, his reflexes so sharp it’s nearly unnatural, “Now I’m taking care of you.”

You’re not sure if you can’t speak because of the drugs or if it’s because you’re in shock. He gently sets you back down and your head falls against the pillow as you struggle to keep your eyes open, spots of black blocking little bits of your vision.

“I’ve been needing someone, I’ve gone through a few, but you, honey, you’re special, and I knew it from the moment I saw you. You can’t leave me, I still need you.”

✪

[taglist; @cjand10]

#dark bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x y/n #dark bucky barnes x you #dark bucky x you #dark bucky #soft dark bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky barnes x you #soft!dark!bucky #yandere bucky barnes #request

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tommysbrat · 2 months ago

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If the fuckass rotten orange peel can become president after 34 indictments irl then I think James Buchanan former-enemy-of-the-state-turned-pardoned-veteran-turned-politician "Bucky" Barnes should become president in the MCU

Thank you for coming to Ted Talk

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #captain america: brave new world spoilers #captain america: brave new world #captain america brave new world #captain america brave new world spoilers #ca:bnw #ca:bnw spoilers #cabnw spoilers #cabnw #mcu #kasen makes a post

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marvelstoriesepic · 6 months ago

Text

Flufftober (day 12+13)

Pairing: best friend!Bucky x Reader

Prompt: “This is spooky.” - “Really?” + Attic

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of death

Flufftober Masterlist

Dust has been clinging to your nose and throat ever since you set foot on that rickety attic ladder, like a dry irritation that causes you to cough every few breaths.

You swipe a hand across the tops of several old, brown leather suitcases and the impact stirs up tiny particles. They swirl in circles through the air, caught in the glow of the single bare bulb dangling from the rafters. Its dim, yellow light barely cuts through the heavy gloom, leaving corners in shadows and only partly displaying the chaotic sprawl of old relics surrounding you.

Bucky is crouched just a few feet away, focused on a box crammed with his grandfather’s clothes.

The old man had passed just over two weeks ago, leaving Bucky’s grandmother with the dismaying task of sorting through her late husband’s belongings. She couldn’t face it. Losing your husband and having to go through his possessions after his passing surely has to be as daunting as one could imagine. Her knees probably wouldn’t even let her make it up that attic ladder again.

So, Bucky had offered to handle it.

He told you he hadn’t been close to his grandpa. He never even mentioned the man to you before, only a day after his passing. The only things you knew about James Barnes - “Yes, I'm named after him. Call me James, doll, and I'll walk outta here!” - is that he was a World War II veteran, a former officer in the 107th Infantry Regiment. He lost his left arm in battle, though the details of that story are now buried with him.

He had always been a man of few words, so Bucky told you, especially when it came to the war. He never seemed eager to talk about the past, or anything else, really. He was a crabby old man. But you saw the understanding in the way Bucky talked about him, the quiet respect for the restrained silence the man had lived in.

Bucky also admired the way his grandpa had been so passionate about his wife. You saw it in the way your best friend's eyes lit up as he recited how the old man may not have been warm and welcoming to him and his sister and easy to get along with, but he had loved Bucky’s grandmother deeply, treating her like she deserved.

You like to think back to that smile on his face as he said that part.

So, since Bucky took the death of his grandfather on lighter shoulders he insisted he'd be fine going through the stuff the man left behind. And since this could take some time, he asked you to come along yesterday. Of course, you said yes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Bucky pulling an old camouflaged soldier’s uniform from the box he’s been rummaging through. The worn fabric lifts in his hands, the hat already lying on the wooden floor beside him.

“Hey, you think this would suit me?”

He throws you a half-grin, holding the uniform up just enough for you to get a look.

You glance over, letting your eyes sweep over the fabric for a moment, before smirking at him. “You wish it would,” you hum, light tone filled with teasing.

Bucky snorts and folds the uniform back with careful hands while shaking his head at you.

Your attention settles back onto those old suitcases you’d been dusting off. The latch of the first one gives with a faint click and you open the lid slowly. The stale, musty scent that greets you drifts to the background of your focus, eyes fixed on what’s inside. Photographs. A sea of black-and-white images, scattered and layered, with a few yellow edges, so many faces frozen in time.

Your gaze lands on a photo, in particular, one that pulls you in drastically, eyes frozen on it. Your mouth falls open, and your hand moves forward almost on its own. You lift the old photo gingerly between your fingers, bringing it closer for a better look.

You blink a few times, almost in a daze, almost expecting the image to change, as though your mind might be playing tricks on you.

“This is spooky.”

You’re not even sure who you’re addressing - Bucky, yourself, the empty air, or maybe the ghost of his grandfather lurking somewhere in the shadows. But your eyes remain glued to the photo.

“Really?” Bucky’s amused voice drifts up from half behind you, and you hear the smirk in his tone. “If this is scary for you, you’d be doomed in a horror movie.”

You sigh in mock frustration, finally able to tear your gaze away from the almost haunting image. Turning to him, you lift a finger at him, half-scolding. “Alright, first of all, don’t you dare say that. I’d make way smarter decisions,” you shoot back, ignoring his infuriating smirk spreading wider. “And second, that’s not even what I meant, you jerk. Look at this.”

Sliding over to him a little, you hold the photograph out for him to see.

Bucky barely glances at it before raising an eyebrow at you, expression confused and casual. “Yeah, so? That’s my grandpa.”

You nearly sputter, your features twisting with disbelief, voice rising in exasperation. “So? Bucky, that’s basically you! He looks so much like you, it’s creepy.”

Bucky glances back at the photo, then at you with skeptical eyes as if he can’t quite see it. But you can. A shiver crawls up your spine. The man in the photograph is practically a mirror image of Bucky, right down to the sharp jawline and the brown fluff of hair. The uniform he’s wearing is the same one, Bucky had just held up moments ago. But it does look crisper, newer in the photo, carrying the sheen of wartime life before it was buried under years of dust and disuse.

The statue of this man, that is Bucky but also not, is so strikingly familiar, with long limbs and lean muscles. But it’s the face that gets to you. The contours of his nose, the angle of his chin, and, more than anything, the gaze. It’s that same piercing look Bucky sometimes gives you, the one that feels like it’s peeling back the layers of whatever conversation you’re having, seeing past your words, seeing past the barrier you had put up to shield your long boiling feelings.

Only here, in the photo, Bucky’s grandfather is giving that exact same look to a person behind the camera, eyes soft and laced with those kinds of emotions you never dared to put words behind when you caught them in Bucky’s eyes. But now it’s easy. It’s so clearly love that illuminates his grandfather’s features here, adoration, which makes it easy for you to guess that who he’s staring at must be his wife. Bucky’s grandmother.

Bucky hums in response, still looking at the photo with mild interest. “Well, he was my grandpa. I guess it makes sense we’d look alike,” he says with a shrug, seeming rather unbothered.

You shake your head with a huff. “Still spooky,” you mumble and Bucky lets out a soft laugh.

He’s about to turn back to the box of clothing when you utter something you clearly should have thought through.

“He was handsome, though.”

Your gaze is still fixed on the image, but you feel an infinitesimal shift in the air. You don’t even need to look at Bucky to know what’s coming next. Imagining the way his eyebrows raise high up his forehead and the slow, smug smirk stretching his cheeks as the meaning of those words sinks in; you begin to feel heat spread across your neck, reaching your ears.

His eyes are boring into you, you feel them prickling your skin.

“Oh? Handsome, huh?” He draws the words out with exaggerated slowness, playful teasing dripping from his tone.

You sigh, meeting his gaze and rolling your eyes for good measure, though you can feel your heart quicken and the edges of the photograph slightly crinkle in your grip as you fidget with it in your lap.

Bucky is full-on smirking, eyes gleaming in that same way again, so full of emotion, practically lighting up the whole attic, making the dusty old bulb above feel utterly irrelevant.

“Don’t you flatter yourself now, Barnes,” you mockingly chastise, the playful annoyance a show to mask the unsteady rise and fall of your breath. The tug of a smile breaks free.

“Nah, doll, I gotta,” he protests, still beaming, still so full of light. “You said we look so much alike it’s creepy, right?” He leans forward, eyes burning into you, practically setting your skin aflame, making it sizzle under his heat. “So if you think he was handsome… maybe you’ve got something you wanna tell me?”

You snort, trying again to play it cool, but your heart is pounding, hands threatening to grow slick around the paper in your grasp.

Another deep, dramatic sigh is released from your body. “You don’t need me to tell you you look good,”you mutter, making it sound as casual as it would come out, and turning back to the suitcase full of photos. “I’m pretty sure you’re aware of that.”

You busy yourself with the pictures, keeping your shoulder turned in Bucky’s direction. But you still feel him. The air has thickened between you two moments before already but it increases within seconds, an unspoken tension threading through the attic space.

It takes him a moment to respond, and when he does, his voice is so soft and gentle, serene, but also so full of a weight you haven’t been able to prepare for.

“Still feels nice hearing it coming from you.”

Your movements come to a halt at those simple, sincere words. A small, almost shy laugh is all you get out. You’ve never been shy around Bucky, always comfortable with him, bantering back and forth with a lightness that normally only eased you.

But there also never was that kind of palpable tension in the air between you. So electric. So charged. So unrestricted. As if the walls to your feelings have crumbled, rocks tumbling into tiny pieces, stone dust shedding from its fragments that now fabricate the air, shaping it to this intimate fervor that makes it hard to breathe.

“Well, fine,” you finally manage to say, trying for a teasing laugh that comes out perhaps a little breathless. “You’re pretty handsome, Buck.”

You don’t turn to face him, eyes and hands on the photographs in the case before you - fixed, but not focused. The people in the pictures are blurred.

In the quiet that follows, you hear the sharp intake of a breath from behind you.

🍁 October Writing Challenges Masterlist 🍁

#flufftober2024 #day 12 #day 13 #marvel mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #marvel bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #modern!bucky

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babylacedream · 2 months ago

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youre a needy guy but i guess i kinda like that

i always find myself back to you જ part 4 of ?

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x f! reincarnated autistic reader

warning: struggling with bucky's death, grief, yandere themes, anxiety, brainwashed!bucky & obsessed!bucky, violence, angsty

summary: he wont leave your side... could he possibly sense that this is not your first life?

notes: inspired by pinkpantheress song called internet baby, I recommend listening.

please remember i am autistic, so i will be writing my personal experience with my autism. thanks!

guys, i know you cant easily access these files regarding the winter soldier but please hear me out.

Before you knew it, it was morning. The birds were chirping alongside your window, and the sunlight crashed in making you groan.

You opened the door, needing to use the bathroom, when you saw Bucky in your living room just sitting there motionlessly with the lights on.

You walked past the open living room door, too tired to deal with this. You got out milk and your chocolate powder. Your favorite cup, specifically for your chocolate milk.

You felt a broad chest plastered against your back, making you jump. "Hey, what are you doing?!" He wrapped his arms around your waist, breathing in your scent. "Why do you smell like her?"

You froze, taking a peek at his expression. His furrowed brows, that knowingly gaze in his eyes, that longing you hoped you'd get a second chance to see again.

You nudged him in his stomach making him back away from you. "You want some milk?" He just stared at you, almost like there wasn't a thought behind those eyes. Though he didn't respond you still served him some milk.

You gestured for him to sit on the dinette table. "Here, drink." You placed the glass of milk in front of him. "Don't worry, I didn't poison it." You joked before turning; he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. He looked at you, yearning for you. "Are you her?"

"Who?" You asked, acting confused.

He reached out carefully and caressed your locket, opening it. "Her." You looked down at your locket, then at him. "No." You spoke almost downheartedly, "I'm not."

You don't want to go through that pain again. Of him possibility leaving you again. You had to protect yourself. It's been forty-eight years since his presumed passing. You just couldn't. You are twenty years old; you deserve better than this.

He let go of your wrist and locket before drinking your milk. Well, he certainly acts like the same old Bucky. Though he seems out of it, this was your Bucky.

But the question remained in your mind. What happened to him?

You quickly took a shower and changed into some casual clothes. You had to go to city hall and request some files. You took a glance at Bucky. He looked caught in a daze. He should be fine, right?

You wasted no time getting on the bus and making your way to the city hall of Arlington. You asked the lady for records on James Buchanan Barnes. He was a U.S. veteran; they had to have his records.

"Reason for requesting?" The lady asked, and I showed her my locket. "That man here is James Buchanan Barnes. He was an acquaintance to a... friend of my parents from New York City."

You left with his files. You sat down in a nearby cafe, looking through his files. "KIA." You hardly believe that now. You turn the page and try to find out where he was killed in action. Danube River, Europe.

You scurried up the files and placed them in your tote bag. Now, you found yourself in the library. It's hilarious; this may look like an ordinary library, but if you are close enough to the librarian. It can be many things.

"Hey, Mrs. Jones! I brought you your favorite. Apple pie and with extra whipped cream, just how you like it!"

"Oh, sweet!" She laughed, and you laughed with her. "What do you want?" You choked on your laugh, "Geez, well, since you asked." You placed your elbows on the counter and rested your chin on your palms. "Could you get me files on the Danube River?" I grinned, hoping to take my chance.

"Really? What's it this time?"

"I was hoping you would let it slide, Mrs. Jones." You gave her your puppy dog eyes.

"Mm, fine." She got up, leaving you alone in the empty library. You looked around at the books while she got the files.

"What are you doing here?" That monotone voice made you yelp, earning a few hushes. You turn around to see Bucky behind you. "W-what are you doing here?!"

"W-were you following me?" You whispered. He didn't say anything, just stared down at you. You were about to slam your palm hard against your forehead, but Bucky stopped you by catching your wrist.

"Don't hurt yourself," Bucky said, and let go of your wrist before sitting down on a sofa in the lounging area, almost like he was waiting for you to be done so he could leave with you.

You were greatly dumbfounded.

Your eyes were on Bucky, observing him before Mrs. Jones brought out what you needed. "Oh, you're a lifesaver!" You grabbed the files from her. "Thanks!" You placed the files in your tote bag. You said your goodbyes to Mrs. Jones and looked at Bucky in the lounging area, passing by him.

Once he knew you were finally leaving, he stood and followed right behind you.

"Is that your boyfriend, sweetie? Damn!" Mrs. Jones shouted, making all eyes on you, especially Bucky's. Your cheeks were red, turning to Mrs Jones. "No, he's not!"

You were walking really fast to your apartment, trying to get the word boyfriend out of your head. Obviously, Bucky kept up with you; why wouldn't he?

You turned around frustrated. "Why are you following?!" You didn't mean to yell, but you were starting to get anxious.

"I can't let you get hurt." He responded solemnly, making you sigh. "I'm not her, okay? I'm just a normal citizen girl living in Virginia. So, if you are doing this because you think I'm her, it's best you leave...."

...Before I start to crack.

Even though you told him harsh words, he still stood beside you. Never leaving you. You felt bad, but it had to be said for your protection.

You made it to your apartment, leaving the door open for Bucky to come in behind you. You dropped your tote bag on the floor, forgetting why you needed the files in your tote bag and went into your room. Falling onto your bed and hugging yourself as you wept.

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talesofadragon · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬

Synopsis: Receiving wind that Hydra has successfully managed to awaken another wave of winter soldiers, Captain America appoints his two best avengers, Bucky Barnes and Y/N Y/L/N, for the job. But aside from Bucky’s trepidation at reliving his worst memories, there’s something else rooting him in his place–the fear of inflicting harm on the woman he loves the most. Between her encouraging words and his violent past, what will happen when Y/N is forced to encounter her boyfriend’s alter ego?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Warnings: Angst | Fluff

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬 Masterlist | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄. Ironically, considering his service as a soldier during World War II in the 107th Infantry Regiment. One might assume his story followed the typical trajectory of a veteran—a man who had served and preserved, giving his all until he had nothing left to lose nor gain.

Bucky faced wars in waves, losing his sense of direction as he battled the currents. Maybe the placidity he yearned for was because of the instabilities and perplexities he'd witnessed, though the peace he needed went far beyond that. From the moment he was reborn into this world, all he ever wanted was to find solace within the hurricane that had upended his life.

Bucky sought peace, yes. Peace within the chaos of his fractured realities.

The sky lit up, a white veil enveloping the night's somber hues. Its brilliance lingered for a fleeting moment before the darkness regained its dominion. Sometimes, Bucky wondered if the storms were a remedy or a curse. When the sky, such as tonight, wailed and bled, and when the clouds tore themselves up to bits and pieces, was the chaos some twisted form of peace? Or was it his fractured mind pitifully attempting to shroud the truths with another veiled deception?

Rain dropped down in fervor, droplets finding themselves on Bucky’s skin. A part of him told him to move away and give the sky some space to grieve. Another rebutted that he should stay to remind the heavens that they’re not alone.

He raised his head, feeling the water droplets on his face, allowing them to delicately trace his features. The storm was ravenous, tumultuous, mutinous—everything a winter turbulence should be, everything the winter soldier in him was.

And yet, the damned poets he’d read about weren’t too far off in their exuberant analogies, comparing a winter storm to a peaceful spring. As polarizing as it was, there was a certain peace to its violence—a peace that Bucky could experience extrospectively but never conversely.

“James,” he heard behind him. This voice, perhaps, was the nearest semblance of personal tranquility he could reach. It permeated his skin, nestled in every nucleus, exuding an air of calmness and hope. He cherished it when she called him by his name. It was her personal term of endearment. To the world, he was several things: Sergeant Barnes, Bucky, and The Winter Soldier. But to Y/N, his precious Y/N, he was James. And he loved her even more for the simple yet profound reminder.

“I’m scared,” he admitted in a shy whisper, playing with his fingers. Truths came easy with her, despite how he grappled with them in his solitary battles. “Going there… going there will trigger a lot of bad memories. It might even trigger him, too.”

Y/N stepped closer, placing her palm on his left arm. His metal arm. She didn’t miss the way Bucky shut his eyes, which is why her thumb traced invisible shapes on the prosthetic. “You don’t have to go there, baby. You don’t have to do anything if your heart’s not in it.”

“But you’ll be there. I can’t…. I won’t for the life of me let you wander around in that monstrous prison world without me. Especially with all those people there.” Bucky’s lower lip trembled as he spoke. His blue eyes harbored a thousand emotions. Peace, fortitude, courage… they all fought waves of anguish and despair. But love, concern, and fear all remained afloat.

“James,” Y/N whispered delicately, framing his cheeks with her gentle hands. Bucky nuzzled in her open palms, his lips brushing against her skin. His eyes captured her in an everlasting glance, filled with so much devotion. “I don’t want you to relive your worst nightmare because of me. Yes, you are our primary knowledge hub when it comes to Hydra, but you’re also a part of our family. We would never want to harm you. I would never want to harm you or cause you despair.”

“You could never,” Bucky answered, his hands falling from the railing and finding their place on her hips. He suddenly became aware that she was wearing no more than his Henley and a pair of pajama bottoms in the middle of this storm. So, he pulled her closer and buried her face in his chest.

“I can go with Steve, maybe even Nat. You don’t have to do this. You–”

“It’s not the memories I fear most, angel.”

“Then what is it?” Y/N asked, raising her head to meet his eyes without stepping out of his embrace. “Is it those soldiers they have created?”

Bucky stared at the falling rain, realizing that the two of them had drifted away from the sliding door’s overhang, which shielded Y/N. He tried to step back, but she must’ve falsely interpreted it as his attempt at fleeing because she tightened her hold on him.

He brushed a strand of her damp hair behind her ear, his thumbs tracing her pink cheek. “What if he comes back?”

“Say his name aloud,” Y/N encouraged. “It’s okay, baby.”

He gulped, closing his eyes for a moment. “The Winter Soldier.” Heaven knew he didn’t want to, and maybe that’s why this whole storm had assaulted New York this evening.

Y/N, on the other hand, didn’t seem to think the same. Calmly, she lifted herself on her toes to kiss his beard, nestling her head in the junction between his neck and shoulder. “The Winter Soldier is what you make him out to be.”

“He’s a murderer,” Bucky spat, his hold on Y/N tightening as if the simple mention of the Soldat would breathe him back to life.

Y/N shook her head. “He’s you.”

“He’s not me, Y/N!” Bucky pried himself away, giving her an indignant look. “He’s a homicidal menace that will not hesitate to rip you apart without a second thought!”

Y/N tried to step closer, but Bucky flinched. He involuntarily retreated back, his cerulean eyes rimmed with despair and hurt. Y/N shook her head, locking her eyes with his. “The Winter Soldier is James Buchanan Barnes. A man that has never stopped fighting, not even for a second. He may be bruised, erratic, and damaged. But he’s not a monster. Not in my story.”

“Y/N,” Bucky all but growled, keeping as much distance between himself and the girl. “You have no idea how twisted these words sound. You won’t even have a chance to take them back or change your mind when he all but attacks you and rips your heart out of your chest like some goddamn fucking prize without even taking his eyes off yours!”

“My heart is his for the taking.” Bucky’s mind spiraled out of control. “As much as it is yours. He and you are one. What I feel for you, I feel for him.”

“Don’t, Y/N.”

Ignoring his comment, Y/N took his hands in hers before he had the chance to run away. “If you cannot see your true worth through your own eyes, James, then see it through my own. Every part of you is worthy. You and The Winter Soldier are heroes in your unique ways, each fighting different battles to find a missing piece of yourself. So, if you’re so afraid that being there will trigger the worst parts of you, then I will whisper to you both all the truth you need to hear until you find your way back to me. Back home.”

“You’re my home,” Bucky whispered, caressing her cheek. He dipped his head, his nose caressing Y/N’s. A second passed, and he allowed himself to bask in her warmth, losing himself in the ardency of her love. His lips delicately traced her berry-flavored ones, claiming them against his own. “I love you,” he almost cried, fearing he might lose her. His mouth wrapped around her lower lip, sucking it fervently and inhaling in all the devotion he held toward his girl. “You're my sanctuary, my peace. And I don’t want my own violent dispositions to threaten the home that I’ve built with you.”

“James,” Y/N mumbled breathlessly, tears on the edge of her lashes. She pressed one more fervent kiss against his lips, resting her hand on his heart to remind him once more that he could feel. That he was human. “I love you in all your nuances and dispositions. No matter who you are or who you think you ought to be, you'll always be my home."

Bucky smiled endearingly, taking Y/N’s hand in his. He kissed her knuckles, one by one, before planting his lips on her wrist. With a final glance at her eyes, Bucky led her inside their shared bedroom, relishing in the feeling of her between his arms.

He closed his eyes with the images of her in his mind, forgetting all about Hydra and The Winter Soldier. It was tomorrow’s nightmare, but Y/N was tonight’s dream, and that’s all that mattered.

BUCKY IS BACK!!

I have so many ideas for this man, and we're starting with this short little series. If you're a fan of hurt/comfort and The Winter Soldier coming out to play, welcome to this maze of truths!!

All-Works Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 2 - CHAOS - here!!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #winter soldier!bucky #winter soldier relapse #winter soldier x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction

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themculibrary · 2 months ago

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Winterhawk + Stony Masterlist

almost boyfriends (ao3) - IronDadStan steve/tony, bucky/clint, rhodey/natasha G, 22k

Summary: Tony moved from California to New York his junior year of high school, where he started attending SHEILD high school in Brooklyn. He made amazing friendships his first day that would bloom into life long friendships. While Tony was a small, nerdy guy who kept to himself - everyone liked him and he never really had any enemies - well, there was one. The person in school he hated and who seemed to feel the same about him. Stupid, tall, handsome Steve Rogers.

blondie (ao3) - luckybxrnes bucky/clint, steve/tony, wanda/natasha, pietro/peter T, 188k

Summary: when james buchanan barnes and clint barton meet for the first time, it ends with clint in a dumpster and a broken hearing aid.

maybe it wasn’t his best idea to yell at another assassian and try to fight him on a rooftop.

eight years later, clint is a little smarter and james is trying his best to be okay.

Clint Barton’s Super Secret Snipers’ Club (ao3) - sara_holmes T, 67k

Summary: Clint Barton’s Super Secret Snipers’ Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)

“When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center.”

Boyfriends, compromises and learning to like oneself.

Deep in the Heart of Me (ao3) - Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar) E, 244k

Summary: Veteran single dad Steve runs a tattoo shop. Pepper arranges for Tony to get that tattoo he always wanted, and he winds up with the mother of all crushes instead. Jumping out of airplanes is one thing, but love requires real courage. Steve struggles with letting someone into his life. Tony tries to keep his heart intact while Steve works on his issues.

Craving a realistic depiction of a romantic relationship featuring PTSD, mental health issues, and characters who discuss their problems? This might be for you. No magic fixes here but a happy ending is guaranteed!

I <3 NYC (ao3) - 1electricpirate T, 21k

Summary: Clint Barton just wants to recover from four months of undercover work by spending a week in bed with his dog, eating pizza and catching up on Dog Cops. Unfortunately, the universe (and Steve Rogers) have other plans in mind.

This is the story of how Clint Barton drinks some bourbon, saves the MTA, becomes a meme and somehow winds up making out with Bucky Barnes.

Lucky in Love (ao3) - dr_girlfriend E, 59k

Summary: Clint is only a couple of sips into his cardboard cup of coffee, his brain barely out of neutral, which is probably why it takes him so long to realize that some damn psycho is trying to kidnap his dog.

Make This Place Your Home (ao3) - aven_garde M, 20k

Summary: Peter's lived his life in and out of foster homes. Now, he may have finally found a home with the most unlikely family ever formed.

Showdown (ao3) - shatteredhourglass T, 13k

Summary: Bucky was happy for Steve, he was. But did he and Tony have to be so disgustingly romantic all the time? // In which Bucky is tired of Steve and Tony’s antics and Clint suggests revenge, which turns out with an additional bonus.

signs of life (ao3) - aven_garde steve/tony, bruce/natasha, bucky/clint M, 40k

Summary: Five times the Avengers didn’t meet Tony’s kid and the one time they did.

The Immortal Hawkeye (ao3) - copperbadge T, 8k

Summary: Clint's a little older than he looks, and his DNA has a few surprises in store, too.

Wake Up Someday (ao3) - thepartyresponsible T, 7k

Summary: Steve relaxes back against his chair. He takes a quick look – just checking, just making sure – over his shoulder, and he gets an unexpected and vaguely life-changing glimpse of Tony’s ass, as he bends over the pool table to line up his shot.

When he looks back, Bucky’s staring over Steve’s shoulder, a familiar, dumb, dreamy look on his face. Steve feels something catch in his chest.

“Oh,” he says. He clears his throat. God, he’s an idiot. He is an idiot. “Him, huh?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. He catches the corner of his mouth with his teeth, but it’s not enough to fight off the stupid grin lighting up his whole damn face. “That’s the one,” he says, low and fond.

Well, I Guess it Would be Nice (ao3) - ElloPoppet T, 34k

Summary: “I want it to be Barton,” Bucky said, and Clint let loose a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, because of course Barnes would choose…

…Barton? As in Clint? As in himself?

Aw, what.

#themculibrary #marvel #mcu #masterlists #winterhawk #bucky barnes #clint barton #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #winterhawk/stony #winterhawk/stony masterlist #m/m

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iceandironbars · 11 months ago

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WinterBones Snippets #1

Sad WinterBones for sad trasheads, short lil ficlets diving deep into the can of worms that is Bucky Barnes' brain ✨

Some days he misses the Commander so much, death is calling his name, whispering it in his head like relief, crawling out of the darkest parts of his brain.

People call him all types of things. War hero. Sergeant. An honorable veteran. A staring machine. A friend even. None of those things feel like him.

The brain that is left, the one that might've taken too many shocks, too much electricity, too much brainwashing and all that is left is the ruins, the forgotten and decayed city that is left of what was once James Barnes.

He rejects it violently and neither Sam, nor his therapist or the wakandans ever even caught a glimpse. Because how could they? They all assume that's what he wants to be, even if right now he does not see himself as any of it.

What they don't know, what haunts him every night, is the Commander' touch on his clammy neck, his rough voice in his ear, sharp tang of blood and sweat and sex, his own screams and moans echoing in his skull and a deep emptiness aching inside of him.

The dreams never stop.

The longing never stops.

Longing.

Ironic isn't it, he thinks with a bitter smile.

He would give anything to be able to be his Commander's Soldier again. To go back to the ease and the clarity and the pain. The painful lust that turns into floating bliss and soft whispers, his reward for being good.

He will never get a reward again. He will never be able to please anyone again, because no one uses him anymore, like he was meant to. His purpose is gone. And so is the man that gave it to him.

The dread and panic spills out of him violently when he heaves over the toilet in the middle of the night.

The Commander is dead. He will not come back for him. He will never be able to be himself again.

It's a life sentence. A sentence he is not sure he can endure, not knowing how long it will be, because he is not human, not anymore. He is what they made him and he is out of time, out of place, out of control.

He fears it will take forever.

And his nights feel endless as he sits with the painful longing, cold sweat on his body, as the ghost of his Commander's voice joins his scrambled thoughts.

Memories.

He sobs.

He doesn't stop until the sun comes up.

★ Tag list ★

If you wanna be added to the tag list for future writings, leave a comment 🖤

@winternightsstar

@sukaibg

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #brock rumlow #winterbones #hydra trash party #hydra #crossbones #mcu

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bcystar · 2 months ago

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— THIRD AMENDMENT

you exercise your right to deny soldiers housing

pairing: best friends!Bucky and Steve x best friend!reader

wc: 422

warnings: none, just our favorite super soldiers 🤞🏼

authors note: this idea has been radiating in my mind for like ever ngl 😛😛

The sound of laughter echoed from outside of your door as you stood at the other side with your phone at eye level. You giggled waiting for either Steve or Bucky to open the door. They’d received invitations to attend a gala to celebrate World War II veterans and were thrilled to attend. By the sounds of it, they had a good time. Finally, you heard the door knob twist open and you finally start recording. You were greeted with James’ bright face which then contorted to confusion at the sight of your camera. “Yankee Doodle” echoed throughout your foyer as you closed the door on their faces while wiggling your index finger at them.

Steve pushed his face against the glass door trying to see what you were doing. You took the opportunity to get a close up on his face on the glass, trying to keep your hand steady while giggling hard. The fifteen second audio finally ended and your giggles broke out into laughter. You saved the video to your drafts before cracking the door open slightly.

“Whatcha doing there, doll” Bucky asks with a slight smirk.

“Exercising my rights, Sergeant” you reply slyly

“Yeah well technically this is our home too, so it doesn’t really apply does it” Steve replies

“Whose name is on the lease, Captain?”

“Touché” Steve answers

After a beat, you finally open the door wide and they walk in.

“No seriously though, what was that?” Bucky asks as he takes his shoes off

“This one TikTok trend” You say making space for them to enter

“Basically, people will record their loved one’s coming back from enlistment and shut the door on them while the screen says something like “When my roommates try to come back home but I know my third amendment right” get it?”

You walk back to your couch only a few feet away and plop straight down. You sit down and open TikTok once more. The video plays and you can feel Bucky’s and Steve’s body heat from behind you as they watch along. You can hear their chuckles from behind at your antics.

“I like that, that’s funny” Steve chuckles out

“Let’s hope the internet does too” you say after captioning the video and posting it.

They laughed at this I promise 🤞🏼

comments—

tennesseeprincess- Personally I’d fold immediately if CAPTAIN AMERICA showed up at my door but wtvs 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

hrts444u- SMASH.

bannerslover- now who took my pants

dliflvr- doing that to Captain America and Bucky Barnes is crazy 💀

#captain america #avengers #bucky barnes #marvel #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #steve rogers #james barnes

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panbotter · 2 months ago

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Tumblr ate this post the first time I tried posting it so maybe it's a sign lol

Happy Valentine's Day I guess

Yes it's another self indulgent self insert fanart with none other than James Logan Howlett and James Buchanan Barnes. So what?

Yes maybe I have a thing for old grumpy veteran men with brainwashing experience. Can u blame me?

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sapphirerogers · 1 year ago

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Thought I had after reading a bunch of headcanons from @16woodsequ

I think the greatest tragedy of Steve Rogers' life is not the pain he suffered as a child, or the abuse from his father, or the grief of losing people or the tiredness of always having to fight.

The greatest tragedy of Steve Rogers' life is everyone around him knowing him, but simultaneously also ignoring him. Yes, Captain America is famous, he's admired/hated (depends on where you're standing). He's talked about often, asked for advice and leadership, he gets privileges too.

But no one really knows him. No one knows just how hurt he is. How *lonely* he is. How distrustful he is. How anxious and scared he is. No one bothers to find out either.

There's a reason he wanted someone with shared life experiences. Nat may try to get to know him, sympathise with him. Sam - bless his soul - tries his best but even as a veteran himself, he can't really understand everything about Steve Rogers, because a) he hasn't witnessed Steve's entire life, and b) Steve is extremely reserved, both by nature and out of trust issues.

As for everyone else, his teammates aren't nearly close enough to him, and everyone else simply doesn't care.

Everyone knows Captain America but not a single soul knows, or cares about Steven Grant Rogers.

Except...

Except for maybe that one boy who stuck with him and fought off the bullies and patched him up later. The boy who grew up with him and watched him grow up while tackling everything life was throwing. The boy who later on became the man who followed him into the jaws of death (quite literally). The boy who, as far as Steve knew, was now at the bottom of an abyss in the Alps. The boy who he had nothing left of, except dog tags and his own faded pencil sketches.

The boy whose name was James Buchanan Barnes.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #its painful being in the Steve Rogers fandom #because the entire time youre just screaming #for people to *see* him #to really understand him #and not write him off as an arrogant/stupid/stuck-up handsome one dimensional bore #youre begging for people to research him #and have at least the smallest amount of empathy #im gonna sob #my precious baby

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missvelvetsstuff · 2 months ago

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Miss Velvet

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Y/N aka Miss Velvet, is a disabled equestrian and therapeutic riding instructor who helped Tony Stark with his PTSD after returning from Titan. When the Avengers bought everyone back he hired her to work with the Avengers and SHIELD hired her to work with their agents as therapist and teaching basic riding skills because you never know when a horse will be the best mode of transportation.

Bucky Barnes is a manwhore who is enjoying his freedom for the first time in decades and pays no mind to y/n when she meets the team because he knows how to ride and is always on the prowl for his next conquest.

Post Endgame but everybody survived, because I said so. Written before TFATWS or any of the multiverse saga. Steve helped get Sharon Carter pardoned so they are together.

Chapter 1

Warnings: swearing, marijuana use

Monday morning and Y/N was starting her biggest project yet. After extensive discussions with Tony Stark and Gen Ross for the last month, agreements were finally reached and she would be working with SHIELD agents to give riding lessons to any agent that isn't proficient AND equine therapy for physical and mental health concerns, when deemed appropriate.

When she stopped by the veterans center a few months after half the world disappeared, she never imagined that she would end up working with Tony Stark. She had only gone there in hopes that she might run into Sam Wilson. They met a few times when she was in DC lobbying to have therapeutic horsemanship covered for veterans.

Sadly, Y/N found out Sam had been taken in the snap but she ended up making friends with Steve Rogers.

Steve contacted Pepper and gave her Y/N's number to see if she could help Tony who wasn't doing well after Thanos and everything that went down.

Steve also introduced her to Nat and they had bonded over multiple trail rides and girls day/nites.

Now the snap had been reversed, bringing everyone back and Nick Fury was so impressed with her work with Tony that he wanted all agents to have access to Y/N and her horses.

Y/N was hoping that everyone would be receptive and that she could help them.

Staring in the mirror, trying to look good without looking like she's trying, while also being dressed comfortably enough to head over to her stable to give tours and orientation without needing to change.

She shook her head, sure seemed like all of the Avengers rolled an 18 charisma because how could so many of them be so pretty? More intimidating than any actual powers they might have.

She sighed, fixed her hair into her favorite work style, used her moisturizer/sun screen, some mascara and a light dusting of powder, accepting that she was too tall and plain looking to be noticed anyhow.

She'd had a bit of a celebrity crush on James Barnes when she learned about him and Steve Rogers in high school and was a little nervous about meeting him but was sure he wouldn't be interested in someone like her. At almost 6ft tall and what might be considered heavy by some standards, most guys never noticed her. Especially ones as pretty as James Barnes.

Her "uniform" of Jeans, tank top with a purple flannel and purple boots that match her belt with the Disney belt buckle. She threw her cane and a couple of edibles in her bag, in case the pain got bad, then grabbed the keys to her little SUV and headed over to the compound. It was only a couple of miles but she had too much to do later and didn't want to start the day angering her back or knee walking.

A presentation to all of the available agents, lunch with the Avengers and then give a tour around her stable with the mightiest heroes. Busiest day she's had in a while.

First, the meeting introducing her to all the agents that were on-site and let them know about her and the stable she ran. All of the agents were required to have at least one lesson with her to evaluate their riding skills to ensure they were at least competent. Those who need further instruction would be scheduled for lessons.

Y/N also spoke about therapeutic horsemanship and how she could help with physical therapy after injuries and on the ground work for PTSD and other mental health concerns.

Next, a meeting/lunch with the Avengers.

After lunch she went back to the stable to give a tour to the Avengers. Answer questions, schedule lessons and evals for each of them.

She also ran a stable closer to the city for special needs and at risk youth but was only able to be there 1-2 days a week since her contract with SHIELD stipulated that she personally oversaw any lessons or therapy for their agents.

Her former trainer and mentor, Mike, was in charge of that site but she had him onsite to meet the SHIELD crowd.

The presentation with agents and team leaders went well. All she had to do is get thru this luncheon with the Earth's Mightiest Heroes and she can go back to the stable where she was in her element.

When she arrived at the conference room she could hear that they all seemed to be in good spirits which was a good start.

Y/N took a deep breath, slowly released it and walked through the open doorway. As soon as she was in the room everyone quieted down and looked over at her while she smiled and looked at Tony.

Tony spoke up, "Alright campers, I'd like to introduce a new official member to our family that's actually been with us since right after the snap. This is Y/N, aka Miss Velvet, our own Horse Whisperer. Y/N, you know Steve and Nat so there's Wilson-"

"Oh, I know this lady" interrupted Sam. "She's done some good lobbying work to push the VA to cover therapeutic horsemanship for Vets. Used to stop by the Center for lunch whenever she was in town." He stood up to give her a hug.

"I told you I'd get you on a horse one of these days, Sam" Y/N threatened with a big grin.

"As I was saying" Tony interrupted "after Wilson, there's Barnes"

Bucky looked up, gave her a once over, smirked and grunted before returning to his phone.

"Wanda, Vision, Barton, Banner and the spider kid."

Everyone smiled, said Hello and Y/N smiled back at them. She then went on to explain the program, that everyone needed to be evaluated even the Avengers.

She also touched on the benefits of therapeutic horsemanship in the saddle and on the ground. Giving some examples of the benefits she herself had seen, for her rehab after her accident and some of the riders she had worked with.

Y/N had a smile and practically glowed when talking about her work making it obvious how much she loved it.

Bucky spoke up "I learned how to ride years ago, so don't need any lessons"

Velvet smiled, "That will be up to me, everyone needs to be evaluated, even Fury had to ride and he's a natural"

Bucky frowned and shrugged, "if you say so." Before going back to his phone.

When she asked if there were any questions, Sam spoke up "Yeah, what's up with the aka Miss Velvet?"

Y/N smiled "I started riding and fell in love with horses when I was 6. When I met my partner Mike, I was a troubled teen with a serious case of horse fever but was also being pulled in another direction that included older boys, alcohol and weed. After getting busted cutting school, my mom sent me off to work at a stable where her boyfriend was working, for 'punishment'. Mike was the head trainer and saw something in me while I chatted with the horses as I mucked out stalls. He took me on, upped my training and we became close. I started calling him Mi, like Mickey Rooney's character from National Velvet. He started calling me Velvet and it stuck."

Lunch was great, Y/N had finally relaxed when it felt like the team accepted her and enjoyed their camaraderie and banter.

Velvet stood up and got ready to leave, digging for an edible to ease the pain from the stress that has held her since this project was mentioned to Ross.

"Alright, lunch was delicious but I need to get over to my stable before the team leaders show up and start getting into things or upset Mi. I'll see y'all there around 3." Y/N said as she stood up to leave. Everyone said goodbye as she walked out.

Shortly before 3, people start pulling up to Velvet's home and stable. She walked out with a cheerful black pit bull by her side. "Don't worry, Indy won't hurt anyone unless I tell him to or they try to hurt me."

Indy almost knocked Nat down in his excitement to see her and he insisted on going around and checking everyone out before they passed thru the gate.

"The old man over here is Mike, my mentor and adopted uncle. He might step in sometimes if I'm not available."

Mike nodded and shook hands with the Avengers he hadn't met yet.

Velvet showed everyone where the tack room is "For those who aren't really familiar with horses, tack is what we call the saddles we sit on and the bridles we use to control the horse."

She introduced them to some of the horses "First is Duke, he's a thoroughbred cross and was my first therapy horse after my accident, also the oldest here at 25. Next is Laredo a quarter horse, mostly, and he's 19. Heidi is a Norwegian Fjord, who is much stronger than she looks and 12. Bubbles is a mutt who was found wandering after the snap, we figured his owners were gone, and is around 16."

Tony interrupted, "Don't you mean Ozzy?"

Shaking her head Velvet replied "that's your nickname for him, Tony, not his actual name."

"Ozzy is a way cooler name than Bubbles. Who names a boy horse Bubbles?" grumbled Tony.

Velvet shook her head, "anyhow, last but def not least is my girl Lexi, she's a Gypsy Vanner and Tennessee Walker mix that Mi gave me because she has a smooth gait that's easy on my back. I'm the only one who rides her unless you really impress me or suck up in a major way. There are more but they're at the other stable while Tony completes the rest of the upgrades he insisted on making."

Tony scoffed, "You'll love that covered, temperature controlled arena when it's freezing outside or raining. Besides, Morgan needs a safe place for her lessons"

Velvet rolled her eyes at him

"So, who wants to schedule their evaluation? I have more tours with SHIELD tomorrow but we are pretty clear after that. Or you can call, text or email me and let me know but I'm supposed to get everyone evaluated within 90 days so don't dawdle."

"You want to go out and get dinner with us, Y/N?" Asked Nat.

"Thanks, Nat, but my back has had enough for today so I'm going to go take a hot bath, throw some jammies on and order in" Velvet replied

"We could just hang here then" offered Steve.

"As long as y'all can handle a slightly messy house, a dog who's allowed on the furniture and me in my comfy clothes. In fact, you big strong heroes can help me feed these beasts"

Velvet showed them the feed shed and the chart listing what each horse was given for supplements, in addition to their hay.

Once everything was cleaned up they headed across the yard to Velvet's house. She left them to order pizza and took a quick shower instead of a bath since she had company waiting. The heat helped relax her muscles some but it was a long day and she was hurting so popped a candy while she dried her hair.

She threw on some shorts, a big t-shirt and some fluffy slippers then walked out to ask "is the food here yet? I'm starving. I hope you ordered some drinks because I have water, nonfat milk and some teabags."

"Don't worry, I remember your distaste for grocery shopping" Steve assured her.

Once the food arrived and everyone was sitting around the living room which had a couple of loveseats and a nice recliner which Velvet advised everyone was her spot.

Bruce asked, "Why is the dogs name Indy? Are you from Indiana?"

Laughing, Velvet tried to reply but was interrupted by Peter trying to sound like Sean Connery but failing miserably, "We named the dog Indiana."

Velvet laughed at his terrible impersonation saying "One of the best movies ever, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, I have it if you wanna watch" then she saw that it was almost 10pm. "Nevermind, not tonite, us horse crazy girls have early mornings."

Everyone helped clean up the trash and said goodnite. Velvet went to bed after hitting a joint a couple of times and reflected on how well the day went, then dreamed about bright blue eyes.

Chapter 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #miss velvet

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