#when ever bucky gets sad or trauma starts acting up he just starts doing man things | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

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Yours, Mine, and Ours [7] Finale

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, general sadness and shittiness.

This is dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You must face change.

Author Notes: I got another old series tied up and I’m editing the last chapter of another one as well. I’m trying to clear some stuff out as best I can.

A special thank you to everyone who reached out to me over the last few days. And extra thanks to @lokislastlove for always encouraging me.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

Masterlist

Bucky knelt beside you as your ass throbbed in pain and your head thrummed. He touched your arm gently with his metal hand, his other on your cheek as he cradled your face. You met his blue eyes but he quickly lifted his head and glared across the room.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll hit you again. Harder.” His snarl was so harsh and deep, it made you shiver. He turned his attention back to you as he helped you roll over and sit up, “Are you okay? Careful…” he backed off the bed slowly as he guided you to the end of the mattress.

You clung to him and glanced over at Steve as he spat blood onto the floor. His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he looked back but he made no move towards you, his head lolling just slightly as he sat straight.

You let Bucky usher you to the door as he turned back and searched around the floor. He huffed and took off his jacket instead, draping it over your shoulders.

He pointed you through the door and followed, snatched the throw from the back of the couch and offered it as he urged you on. You found your purse where you dropped it and stopped to grab it, groaning at how your body ached. You continued to the door as he opened it and followed you out.

You were silent as you descended, cloaked in his jacket and the thin blanket. You came around the building and neared your car. He kept away from you but hovered as if you might keel over.

“I can’t drive,” you let your purse dangle weakly from your hand.

“I’ll take you back,” he said softly, “and then you don’t have to see me ever again.”

You nodded and rounded his car. You opened the door and slumped into the seat, your purse on your lap as you hung your head. It was over. You knew it was. You thought there would be a way to hold onto Steve, to find the man he had been, but he assured you that that Steve was gone. Everything you had was lost.

The engine turned and you barely noticed the blur of the city as it passed outside the windows. You fought against the wave of grief that swept over you and leaned your head back.

“You said I’ll never see you again,” you croaked, “but you saved me.”

“So? I did all those other things too,” he gripped the wheel and sniffed, “I’ll keep my distance. I started all this. I never should’ve-- I’m fucked. I try to act like I’m not but I am.”

“Bucky…” you said weakly.

“Don’t. I know it’s the truth and I know everything that happened to you is because of me. Steve’s an asshole. I don’t know what changed in him, but I’m worse,” he sighed, “I’m gonna resign. I’m gonna… look into rehab or therapy, whatever they got for me. I can’t stay near you or Steve. I can’t do any of it.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands together. Your body hurt but your soul hurt worse.

“No, I’m going,” you said, “I’m leaving. I’m not a hero like you or Steve. I don’t matter. And I can’t stay with him. I can’t even stay close because I know he won’t stay away. Right now, he’s getting up off that floor and you can’t tell me he’s not coming after us right now.”

Your voice cracked and you muffled it with a corner of the blanket. You hunched over as suddenly you felt nauseous and you held in a retch. Your body shook but you kept the sickness in and murmured.

“Please, just get me back,” you begged.

“I will,” he vowed, “I’ll make sure you get out and I’ll make sure he doesn’t stop you,” you heard him gulp between his words, “and after, if you ever need me to knock him on his ass again, I’ll be there. No strings, no expectations, we don’t even need to talk.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the door, watching the pedestrians and other cars. You could only think of everything that needed to be done; grab what you can, email Tony, go back and get your car and drive without stopping.

“Shit,” you sat up as you neared the compound, “I forgot my phone.”

“Good,” Bucky said, “he’s tracking it. Get a new one.”

👥

Bucky closed the yellow taxi door and watched the cab pull out into the swell of New York traffic. She’d packed the remnants of her former life in a single backpack but he could see, she didn’t even need that. He backed away from the curb and tucked his hands into his pockets. His chest was tight and heavy. He was guilty but he didn’t feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for her.

He was almost thrown off his feet as a hand gripped his arm and swung him around. Steve was white with anger as a vein popped out in his forehead. His lip was split and his nose bruised from Bucky’s fist. The men faced each other in mutual detest. He never expected to look at his oldest friend that way and feel it so succinctly.

“Where is she?” Steve growled.

Bucky shrugged and shouldered past him, “gone. Far from us.”

Steve followed him and stopped him before he could pass through the door. He shoved him back against the façade of the building but Bucky hardly felt it. He just stood, staring at the man he didn’t know any more, and lifted a brow.

“You gonna beat it out of me?” he asked, “then you’ll have to kill me.”

Steve’s eyes searched Bucky’s and he growled under his breath, “all you had to do was follow the fucking rules.”

“I never liked those rules. I only wanted to be close to her. It was selfish. It was abuse.”

“She liked it,” Steve snapped.

“No, you told her she liked it and she loved you so much, she believed you,” Bucky’s voice turned raw, “she loved you and you threw it all away.”

“You ruined it,” Steve accused.

“Fuck you,” Bucky snarled, “you deserve to be alone.”

“I’ll find her,” Steve curled his fingers into a fist and puffed his chest, “I know exactly where she’s going. She won’t get to her car before I do.”

“No, she will,” Bucky pushed away from the wall and grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and pinned him, “you won’t make it past me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned. He gripped Bucky’s shirt in kind and the pair rolled against the wall until they stopped in a bitter stalemate. They stared each other down as their soles scuffed on the pavement and grunted almost in unison at their opponent.

“You won’t keep me from her forever,” Steve said calmly.

“She’s not the only one leaving, Steve,” Bucky hissed, “and I won’t feel bad at all when you wake up one day and realise how lonely you are.”

👥

Your new apartment was mostly empty but it was yours, unlike that seventh floor box Steve had made your cage. It was far from him, far from Bucky, far from everyone you ever knew. You knew you couldn’t hide with your parents or your sister or even those distant university friends who you knew would have your back. You had to be alone. It was your fear of that which got you into all that mess.

You didn’t see Bucky again but he did get a message to you. He left a gift for you at a safe house on your way out of the state. New identification, an unopened cell, and a wad of cash. It wasn’t atonement but it was what he could give you. You kept driving and exchanged your car at the stateline. You kept on until you felt as if you were in an entirely different country.

You took a job at the grocery store as a cashier. You remembered when you were a child and your mother had the same position. She went back to school and made you promise you’d never end up in the same boat. If she could see you now…

If you could see her.

You dropped your bag on the side table as you entered and turned the lock on the handle and the latch above, the deadbolt over that, and hooked the chain last. You clutched the pepper spray you kept up your sleeve and searched the single bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Your paranoia was your only companion.

You kept the curtains drawn day and night, even those stolid nights when you couldn’t sleep for the thick sweat that coated your body. Those nights came more often and even during the day, you found yourself suffocated in fits of unbearable heat. And at night, you were trapped by the dreams of the past.

You sat and opened up the novel you kept on the coffee table. When you’d been with Steve, you never had much time to read between his need for attention and your work. Your relocation was freeing in more ways than one.

You laid back and wiggled, still in your stiff grocery store uniform and lost yourself in the fantasy adventure of a young warrior. It was a fight you could control; that you could win.

👥

Bucky held the position and breathed out slowly. His muscles vibrated as he strained and slowly lifted his leg, the toes of his other foot firmly planted on the mat. He turned and outstretched his arm and leg to the ceiling and inhaled. He let out another breath as he reached the next position then returned to downward-facing dog.

He pushed himself back to sit on his knees as the noise of the lapping lake reached his ears and sent a cool breeze over the dock. He pulled his legs out from under him and bent his legs as he leaned his sweaty arms over his knees. He looked out at the glistening water and listened to the noise of birds and critters.

Peace. He couldn’t call it that. Exile, more like. He didn’t trust himself to be near people. His therapist visited once a week and he attended daily video sessions with him. One of his tasks was to find hobbies and to face himself. Yoga was both of those. It cleared his hand and ate up his time.

But then he found himself wishing she was there. He knew she wasn’t in some serene lake house, she didn’t have all the support offered by SHIELD and Stark, she didn’t have anyone. He did what he could, what she would accept from him, but there was nothing he could give her in that life that would ever be enough.

Then he felt awful about those thoughts. She was never his to have.

He stood and walked up the dock and the dirt path to the house. He climbed up onto the large deck and through sliding doors. He poured himself a glass of water and added a slice of lemon. He took it with him as he went to the bedroom where he slept alone, where the shadows of trees loomed over him in the night and swayed like the wraiths of his remorse.

The white cat hopped up on the bed and twirled in expectation, in demand of his attention. He scratched Alpine’s head as he neared and got a nip when he pet him a little too long. The moody feline retreated to the corner of the bed and watched him with his pale blue eyes. The creature was his only friend now.

He took a deep gulp and sat on the edge of the bed and set the glass down. He slid open the drawer of the hand-crafted night table and dipped his fingers inside. He pulled out the pink fabric and held them in his metal hand and stroked the dainty elastic. He should get rid of them, like he had the rest, but he just couldn’t. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t. He would never forget about her.

👥

You pushed the boxes and cans over the scanner and onto the next belt so that they were carried down to the end of the counter. You smiled as you asked the usual questions and waited for the customer to punch in their pin. You waved on the next in line as the former bagged their goods and you kept the distant tune playing from the low speakers in your head.

The routine was your only comfort. It was easy. Even when you got those fussy customers, the ones with the expired coupons or the wrong flyers, it was simple work. You rang them through and saw them off without concern. Their tantrums were not the worst you’d faced in your time.

When it was your time to clock out, you stopped by the café in the same plaza as the grocery store and ordered a tall iced tea. You came out with your purse on the arm that hid the pepper spray and made your way to the end of the pavement and around the corner to the street.

At the first corner, you turned off onto a small side street then cut through to the park and passed the memorials and statues set along the winding path. It was a longer walk than your normal route but you took it once a week. You liked to watch the ducks but you had to avoid the geese.

You sipped from your straw and smiled at a dog as he passed with his owner and looked over at the kids laughing on the monkey bars. Your uniform tented in the heat of the summer sun but you pressed on, refreshed by the fruity tea.

When you emerged from the park, the grit of the small town returned. The chipped bricks of your building rose above you and you unlocked the front door after a struggle with the ancient keyhole. The door closed heavily behind you and you headed up the dingy stairs.

As you got to your apartment, you went through the usual to-do; lock, search, and settle in. Two months, maybe three, it felt so long ago and yet it felt like only yesterday. You couldn’t help but feel watched, followed, and you knew that sensation would follow you for the rest of your life. But if it was only ever a thought, you could be okay.

👥

Steve didn’t know what to do with himself at first. First, his girl left and then his best friend.

In the early days of his solace, he told himself it wasn’t true. They’d be back. They couldn’t live without him. They would apologize because they betrayed him. They would realise that he wasn’t the villain. He wasn’t wrong. He busied himself with his missions and waited.

But after two weeks, he saw no signs, heard no tell, nothing. He tried to follow her trail but there wasn’t anything past the state line. He asked where Bucky went but Stark wouldn’t tell and SHIELD kept that information classified from all, even him.

Then, he felt bad and he lingered on those questions that tugged at his mind. Was he wrong? Was he the bad one? Had he really hurt them? Did he deserve it all? He felt awful and fell through on a mission and no one asked any questions. No one knew the reasons for the sudden departures and the downcast captain.

Then he was mad. He was breaking things. He was growling and shouting in frustration. He ripped a door off its hinges and punched a hole through a wall. He paid for the repairs but was told in no short terms to leave the compound. He was all too happy too. He still had that apartment and it wasn’t too bad being in his own space.

But it made him think of her. And as he thought of her, he missed another mission, this time without telling anyone. Phone calls, emails, knocks on his door, they all muddled together in the haze of his thoughts.

He remembered those days, decades ago when Bucky had been his only friend. When he was a boy, when he still felt young, when he still felt like him. He remembered everything that came after and how he fought to save the only man he ever admired. Then everything he’d made him do. He didn’t make him do that, he gave him exactly what he wanted.

Then she made his chest squeeze. He thought of the first time they met. He didn’t think much of her but she somehow won him over with her kindness. He recalled the realisation of how much he liked her, he wasn’t even reluctant enough not to think it was love in that instant. When she saw the loose stitch in his glove and pulled it away like it was nothing. She remarked on the little fix as ‘perfect’ and he couldn’t help his doofy grin and the line he spouted after, ‘not as perfect as you.’

And as he thought of her, he conjured all those hopes he had for them. The life he made for them in his mind. He was going to give it all to her but he just wanted a little fun first. That wasn’t so bad. He could still give it to her and that was all she wanted after all. She wanted the Steve she knew. She wanted the nuclear family and white picket fence. He wanted that too.

When the papers came to announce his dismissal from SHIELD, it felt like freedom. He didn’t care about saving the world anymore. He got out of bed these days and worked out, went for a run, and came back as he went about his own work. As he searched through the servers they tried to block him from and overrode the new restrictions. They always thought he was some clueless idiot from the past.

He could still have that life. All he had to do was find her. He smiled at the screen as he went over everything he had so far. The whiff of her blew out at the stateline but now he could go wherever he wanted without a leash. He could find her if he only tried a little harder.

👥

Steve gave notice on the lease and traded in his car for something with better mileage and more space. He sold everything that was his life before and headed out on the road with a new lease on life. He wasn’t the Captain anymore, he wasn’t the saviour, he only wanted to be one thing; a husband, a father, hers.

When he reached the state line, he stopped for a while at a motel and asked around. He had her picture and everyone was all too eager to talk to Steve Rogers. He found her car at a used dealership and got the plates and make of the one he’d switched her for. That was a start.

Then he moved on, stopping along the way for a day here and there to relax. He had time. He had confidence again. He did this everyday, this was her first time, she couldn’t outrun him forever. He had the skills and the savings to get him a lot further than she ever could.

He drove through several more states before he hit another block. A second car traded but the dealer was not as talkative. That meant he had to break in after dark and that was time he didn’t feel like spending on some stubborn bitch. But he got it done and moved on.

Then there was a week of doubt and desperation. What if he was wrong? What if this was all a part of her plan? Maybe she was smart enough to lead him in the wrong direction. Maybe Bucky was helping her. Maybe they were together. That thought made him livid.

He took off in the opposite direction but ended up with nothing but desert heat and rural nothingness. He turned around and assured himself that neither of them were smarter than him. He returned to the same point and slowly pieced together the clues until he was sure enough to keep on.

He was getting close. He could sense it. He pulled out his phone and opened those videos he’d taken from Bucky and the pictures of that day they’d made a mess of her. His hand was nothing compared to her and even if he came, he found himself dissatisfied. He ended up cursing only to start again a minute later.

That night he started in the bed then ended up in the shower and before he could get out of the bathroom, he was gripping his dick as he leaned on the counter and muttered her name over and over. He was impatient. He needed her soon or he was going to go mad.

He hardly slept as he tossed and turned in the hotel room. He checked out early but pulled over on the country road to get off again. It made him angry. She should be the one fucking him, he shouldn’t be using his own hand. He shouldn’t be alone. She should be there with his dick down her throat as he drove them to their suburban paradise.

He passed another city sign and spent a day running circles without a catch. He pressed on through the night, not wanting another motel bed, and pulled in at a station just outside a small town. He gassed up and chewed on jerky as he set out once more.

On a whim, he stopped in the small town and stopped for a meal at the local fish and chip place. It was unusual for the area but the fries were crispy and not overly salted and the fish breaded perfectly. He kept his hat on and his face down. He didn’t need to be recognized although his poor disguise seemed to draw attention.

“Louise,” the voice chimed with the bell, “gosh, I’m so sorry, I almost forgot.”

Steve looked up as his heart fluttered. He saw the green uniform shirt and black pants and at first, he was ready to deflate. But the way she walked, and her face, the way she glowed and smiled at the woman behind the till, he knew it was her. He’d found her.

“I am so stupid! I keep forgetting everything,” she counted out the money from her wallet, “I’ve been craving this all week and I’m halfway home and I’m like oh my god,” she chattered on, that way she did when they’d first met.

“Not at all, darlin’,” Louise handed her the parcel of fish and chips, “you go on enjoy.”

“Thank you!” she sang sweetly and scurried back through the door.

Steve stood slowly and left his tab on the table with a thoughtlessly generous tip. He adjusted his cap and headed out the door slowly. She wasn’t moving as fast as she made her way down the street. She swung the tied parcel from her hand and he noticed how her hips swayed. There was something different about her, something he liked.

He kept the same pace, sure to hang back so that she didn’t notice him. She led him through a park and she stopped to smile at a party of ducks in the small pond. She carried on over the small bridge and he sat on a bench when she looked back. She didn’t seem to notice as an older couple passed him and he hid behind them.

He got back up just as she was at the exit. He trailed her back to the streets and to an old brick building with an iron sign above the front door. She let herself in and he stood outside with a smirk.

“Perfect,” he said to himself as he backed away and strode down the sidewalk, “always so perfect for me.”

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wintersoldiersimp · 3 years ago

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Bucky x reader one shot

Good day my dearly beloved Bucky simps here I make my humble fanfic debut. I haven’t done any creative writing for like five years so I’m excited and nervous.

Would love any feedback or thoughts <3

Summary: set during falcon and the winter soldier. You and Bucky are in love but can’t admit it to each other. In the aftermath of Madripoor, Bucky is struggling with having been forced to act as the winter soldier again, and you comfort him. I watched this series a few months ago now so some details may be off.

Content Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, trauma, mostly just sad with some fluff at the end :)

Word count: approx 2.5k

Your eyes open suddenly as you are dragged out of an anxious sleep by the feeling that something isn’t right. Scanning your dimly lit surroundings, you sit up in the bed, and attempt to recall where the hell you are right now. This wild goose chase is starting to take its toll. All you know for sure in your sleepy state is that you left Indonesia behind and are back somewhere in Eastern Europe. Riga, you decide. No. Vilnius perhaps. Fuck. Who knows.

You let out an exhausted sigh.

You haven’t gotten a full nights sleep since leaving the US. You’re constantly on the move in pursuit of the Flag Smashers, and the few times you’ve had the chance to sleep through the night the events of the past few weeks keep you constantly on edge, spiralling through your brain and awakening you suddenly, expecting imminent danger at every second.

Looking to the floor next to you, you see a discarded pillow and blanket and realise what’s missing. The absence of the comforting sound of Bucky’s steady breathing has left a heavy silence all around you.

The room of the cheap motel you are staying in for the night is dimly lit by the moon pouring in through the windows, casting a eerie yet comforting light on the old fashioned decor of the room. You look out the window to see the source of the light hanging peacefully in the sky, and in its glow you see a figure sitting in an old wicker chair staring up at it.

Your heart aches as you watch him, hunched over in the chair, and you are reminded of the intensity of the last few days. The fast paced and demanding nature of your mission was hard enough, without Bucky having to take on the role of the winter soldier once more.

He had come so far since regaining power over his mind. You know there’s still a long hard road ahead but considering what had been forced upon him for the last 70 years you’re in awe that he’s able to function at all. He doesn’t tell you much of what he’s going through, the act of sharing his struggles with anyone has become so alien to him. When you do get an insight into what he’s feeling, you see a broken man struggling under the weight of so much pain and guilt and shame that it seems impossible he will ever be free of it. You try to make him know that you’re there for him and that he can trust you, but mostly you feel quite useless.

It broke your heart to see him become the winter soldier in that bar in Madripoor, the cold violent facade that overtook him seemed to come so naturally, but you knew he was struggling underneath it all, begging to be free. You can’t imagine how he must have felt after so much progress to reclaim his life, to have to be put right back in that horrific position. All you wanted was to break cover and get him out of there, show him the love and care he deserved, but you didn’t. You gave in to the heavy responsibility of the mission, and prayed it wouldn’t last too long.

You wanted to talked to him in the aftermath, to keep an eye on him and make sure he was alright, but there had not been time. The four of you had been scrambling from one life threatening situation to another, attempting to recover the serum and then racing back to Europe to stop Karli and her growing army. When you arrived at the motel you were so consumed by exhaustion, you knew the best thing for everyone was a good nights sleep.

With only two rooms available and one bed in each, Bucky grabbed a pillow and blanket and went to lie on the floor without a word. You tried to tell him you didn’t mind sharing but he ignored you, and you weren’t about to start an argument at a time like this. You couldn’t, however, stop your heart sinking as you wondered whether he was merely being polite, or if he really didn’t want to share a bed with you.

Sitting dazed and still half asleep on the bed, it was the first time your mind had slowed down and begun to process the previous days. Clearly, so had Buckys. You watched him through the window, understanding his inability to sleep. You debated whether to leave him be, but decided that he needed more than just alone time right now. Throwing the warm blanket off your legs, you make your way over to the door and step out into the cold air.

You walk over to the empty chair and sit down, with a quiet hello. He looks over, and gives a small smile, which doesn’t reach his eyes. Your heart drops when you see his face. He looks so tired and sad.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask quietly. He shakes his head, looking back up at the still night sky. “Not even close” he responds with a tired sigh.

You sit there in silence for a few minutes, as was routine for your relationship. Conversation never came easy to either of you, much of the time trying to talk to people left you stressed and anxious. The strong bond between you had been forged in comfortable silences, you felt a sense of calm and understanding in each other’s presence. You were undeniably quite in love with the man, and often it seemed like he might feel the same, but the nature of your work and your mutual inability to communicate meant that you never dared to make a move. So you remained in silent and stubborn friendship, which was beautiful in its own way and meant the world to both of you. Sometimes though, especially now, you needed to give more than silent understanding. Your friend was suffering, and you knew you had to acknowledge what he’d been through and try and help him any way you possibly could.

“Bucky-“ you start talking with no idea what you’re about to say. This really is not what you’re trained for. Breaking backs? Sure. Shooting machine guns? Easy. Manipulating unassuming men into thinking you’re a simple minded pretty face only to turn around when you’ve gained their trust and mercilessly destroy their life? Yum. Basic communication with other human beings, on the other hand. You were scared shitless.

Bucky stares at you, his lovely blue eyes piercing straight into your soul, as if he knew what was coming and was daring you to keep going. He didn’t try to stop you though, and you hoped that deep down he too wanted to talk.

Your nerve breaks under his gaze, and you look down to fidget with your fingers. Cursing yourself for struggling with such simple communication, you decide your friends welfare is more important than your own discomfort, working up the courage to continue.

“I know that must have been really hard for you, in Madripoor. I mean, I can’t possibly imagine but-“ you glance up at him quickly before your eyes dart back down to your hands. He turns back to the sky and a defeated expression takes over his face. You’re both hating this but at this point there’s no turning back.

“I just mean I know how far you’ve come in the last few months, trying to put it all behind you, and then you had to step straight back into it like it was nothing- and it’s not nothing.” You paused, your voice shaking. Talking about anything even slightly emotional made you tear up. Bucky noticed the breaking of your voice and looked back you, eyes wide and sadder than ever. You tried your best to continue, your voice weak and quiet. “You don’t deserve that. I just- I wish we had thought of something else, I’m sorry.”

You think you see a hint of relief in his eyes, as if even such a basic recognition of what he’d gone through had taken some of the weight off. He sighs and hangs his head down, hands in his hair. “Maybe I do deserve it.” His voice almost a whisper.

Your heart breaks at his words. “Bucky, no-“ You scramble to find the right words but he cuts you off.

“For 70 years I existed only to bring pain and suffering to people.” He speaks slowly, a tone of disgust coating his every word. “There are countless lives that will forever be torn apart because of what I did. And now I’m supposed to attend therapy once a week and right a few wrongs and everything’s just forgiven? You can’t reverse murder. I can never bring those people back.” His voice was barely holding, getting weaker with every word.

“When I beat up all those people in that bar, and the whole crowd was staring at me, it felt more real than any acts of redemption I’ve attempted in the last few months. It was like all those people were seeing me for who I really am. Who I’ll always be.” Buckys eyes were fixed on something far off in the distance, a look of self-loathing resignation on his face. You tried to hold yourself together but tears spilled from your eyes, you felt utterly helpless.

You take his hands in yours, holding them with a strength your voice can’t provide. “Bucky listen to me.” Your voice is desperate now, forcing him to look at you.

“What you went through all those years- it’s never going to leave you, and in some way you’re always going to feel responsible for the people you hurt. I get that. But you were just as much a victim of Hydra as they were.” He shakes his head and looks down with a pained face, the shame of his past making it hard for him to hear you defending it.

“You had no control over your own life all those years, you know you didn’t have a choice, and you can’t change any of that.” You grip his hands tighter and lean closer to him, your whole body physically hurting at seeing the man before you in such despair.

“What you can change is everything from now on. Every decision you make from now on is your own, that power is yours and no one else’s. Okay? No one can tell you who you are, what you do or don’t deserve or that you can’t ever be different. You get to wake up every day and tell the world exactly who you are, and it doesn’t matter if that changes everyday- because it’s yours. Freedom over our own life is the most powerful thing we have- okay? I won’t let anyone take that away from you again. Bucky-“ Bucky was struggling to not fall apart completely. His head hanging low, face screwed up in pain, hands shaking in yours.

“It’s not your fault Buck, it never was. And if anyone has a fucking problem with that they can come and find me.” He let out a shaky laugh, eyes closed and still looking down. “No matter what happens from now on I’m here okay? I’m right here with you. I know it’s hard as hell but I won’t let you go through this alone, I’m so proud of you Bucky.” He looks up at you, eyes full of tears and a look you’ve never seen from him before. It sends fireworks through your body, your stomach flipping. His eyes hold yours for just a few seconds before he looks down again.

Bucky holds your hands tighter in his, unable to speak for fear of his voice breaking. You catch your breath, surprised both at the speech you’ve just managed and at his reaction, you realise your words meant a lot to him.

You sit together in the stillness of the chilly night, a comfortable silence once again settling around you. Bucky’s eyes stay fixed on your hands intertwined. You watch him as he focusses on rubbing steady circles into the back of your hand, avoiding your gaze. An overwhelming sense of love for the man before you warms your body in the cold night air.

After a few minutes you break the silence. “Hey c’mon, why don’t you come back inside. You need a good rest.” He nodded slightly. “Yeah. I-“ His voice was shaky. “I’ll be in in a minute”. You nod, standing up and placing your hand on the side of his head. You caress his temple softly with your thumb, and lean forward, bringing your lips to his forehead. He closes his eyes and lifts his hand to hold yours against his head. “And Bucky?” He looks up. “Please don’t sleep on the floor tonight.” A relieved smile washes across his face. He gazes up at you, still looking impossibly tired but now the sadness in his eyes has been replaced with love. You smile back down at him and make your way back into the room. Although you are physically and emotionally exhausted as you climb into bed, you know you won’t be able to sleep until you feel him next to you.

A minutes or so passes before you feel the bed shift and Bucky crawls in behind you, an exhausted sigh leaving him as he allows his tired body to sink into the pillows and mattress. Snuggling up behind you, he wraps you in his arms and nuzzles his head into your shoulder. Your body melts into his with a sigh. “Thank you” he whispers, leaving a gentle lingering kiss on your shoulder. You hold his hand in yours, and a heavy calm settles over you both as you drift into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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reallivegeekgirl · 3 years ago

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StanQuest

Something clicked on in my brain a couple months ago and suddenly Sebastian Stan became the hottest man alive. So I decided to watch everything he’s ever been in. A friend and I called it StanQuest.

Here are my spoiler-free reviews for anyone considering something similar (in inverse chronological order starting with latest works and going back in time. The stars are an overall rating of the work, not of Sebastian’s performance.

This only lists things I could find streaming for free or a price I was willing to pay. It does not count after credits scenes, music videos, or works in which he was uncredited.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021) - TV show - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This started it all. I very much enjoyed it. Good balance of humor and action, heart and heroics. I’ve watched it four times already, and will watch it again. Bucky Barnes is my favorite character of his and this is my favorite story of Bucky's so far. I can’t wait to see what he does next. (And I have a lot to say about how they treat his trauma in this show. I’ve definitely written about it before and may again.)

Monday (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one where he gets naked. If that’s all you’re looking for, enjoy. It was a very realistic portrayal of a relationship between two deeply flawed people. It can get depressing. But hey, penis.

The Devil All the Time (2020) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you think Monday is depressing, this movie says “hold my beer”. But something about it is just captivating. It’s really disturbing, and if you’ve ever been screwed over by American Evangelical Christianity it might be more disturbing. Still, I’ve watched it twice. And as much of a bastard as Lee Bodecker is, he also looks really cuddly. He’s just barely in it.

The Last Full Measure (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - You will cry. A lot. It’s based on a true story. Sebastian plays a man who cares more about his career than this weird quest dumped on his desk by his boss, but changes his mind and his heart as he investigates why a war hero was denied a medal of honor 34 years before. Definitely recommend.

Endings, Beginnings (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - One of two love interests in the complicated life of Shailene Woodley’s Daphne, Sebastian is an adorable mess. The editing is interesting and fresh feeling. Watch it and you’ll see what I mean. Fair amount of sex in this movie, and you see his butt. It’s a very nice butt. I’ve watched this one a few times so far.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) - Movie - ⭐⭐ - There is no reason to watch this movie if you’re not familiar with at least most of the rest of the MCU. It plays merry hob with the rules of time travel, and only makes sense if you don’t really think about it. In my opinion, the ending is really freaking stupid comsidering his character’s history, but at least it sets up TFatWS, which was amazing.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2018) - Movie - ⭐ - If you’re into movies that are creepy but also almost nothing happens for most of the movie, this is the one for you. Sebastian is handsome as hell, but also a complete asshole. As fine as he is, I’m not gonna watch this again. I fucking hated it.

Destroyer (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- I had a hard time paying attention to the plot because it seemed like they made this movie just to get Nicole Kidman an Oscar nomination for wearing ugly makeup and playing a complete mess of a person. It’s a fine movie, and all of the performances are good. Sebastian looks surprisingly good with the short hair and goatee. Ultimately, the plot is depressing and the whole movie seems kind of pointless.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Again, no reason to watch this if you aren’t already familiar with all the movies leading up to it. It’s long and the villain looks like Grimace and a California Raisin had an evil baby. The ending made me scream with frustration that I had to wait until the next one came out. Now I just watch them back-to-back if I watch them at all. It’s not a good movie, but it is part of a long-form story that I enjoy in general.

I’m Not Here (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐- Another depressing one. Told over the course of one man’s terrible life, it’s a sad account of how much your parents can fuck you up. Sebastian portrays the middle part of the man’s life. J.K. Simmons plays the current day part and unreliable narrator.. Do not watch unless you are fully prepared to be sad for a really long time after.

I, Tonya (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- This movie is hilarious. I mean, the true story is insane and really stupid. The spousal abuse is hard to watch, and Sebastian’s mustache in this is a war crime. But the acting is great and it’s a very engaging movie. The parts that aren’t horrifying are pretty funny.

Logan Lucky (2017) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Watch. This. Movie. Sebastian Stan is only in it a little, but it’s a really fun, clever caper/heist movie and everyone in it is fantastic. I don’t want to say anything else about it if you’re going in fresh. I’ll be rewatching this one a lot

Captain America: Civil War (2016) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you ignore how kind of silly the conflict over the Sokovia Accords is, this is a good Marvel movie. Sebastian gets a lot of screen time because Bucky is the more pressing concern/urgent point of contention than the Accords. Bucky is my favorite character of his partly because of this movie.

The Martian (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I’m watching it(again) as I’m typing this. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched it. Sebastian Stan isn’t in it very much, but he’s very cute and so is his little story arc. Mostly I watch it because Ridley Scott made a fantastic movie. If you can get your hands on the Blu-Ray, it comes with a ton of extras. They made a very complete story that isn’t all seen in the movie. A lot of it is stuff about Mars, but there are also extra “crew” interviews, so there’s another chance to see more of Sebastian’s character.

Ricki and the Flash (2015) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - He’s not in this very much, but he’s very cute when he does appear. It’s all about the relationship between Ricki and her daughter. Definitely rewatchable. Meryl Streep is fantastic, because she’s Meryl Streep.

The Bronze (2015) - Movie - ⭐ - This is not a good movie. It’s about Olympic gymnastics, so it might be slightly more interesting right now while the Olympics are happening. Sebastian isn’t in it a lot, but his performance is certainly… memorable. Weirdest sex scene I’ve ever seen. Worth watching just for that.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This is the one I can watch over and over. I bought a Winter Soldier face mask for when I need to feel like a badass. Bucky’s story is really sad, but he’s also extremely sexy with the metal arm and determined walk.

Once Upon a Time (2012-2013) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐ - This show is so stupid, but it’s also fun. If you haven’t seen it, the premise is that fairy tale characters are real and live in another land. Snow White’s Evil Queen casts a spell to transport a bunch of them to a town she creates in Maine called Storybrooke, and gives them all fake memories so she can be mayor and watch them all not remember who they are. Sebastian plays Jefferson, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. He’s in a few episodes in season 1 and 2, and doesn’t get a ton of screen time, but he’s really cute and tragic as Jefferson. It probably helps to watch the whole first season just to understand his episodes, but that’s up to your tolerance for weird shit. Note: IMDB says he’s in an episode uncredited, but I’ve watched it and didn’t see him anywhere in that one.

Labyrinth (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐ - Two episodes that tell a complete story. Sebastian isn’t in this one a whole lot, but he is adorable. It’s a strange story about religious stuff and a sort of Holy Grail that’s three books. It’s hard to describe. It’s on Amazon Prime right now, but they’re taking it down August 8, 2021, so watch it while you can.

The Apparition (2012) - Movie - ⭐ - If you like horror movies, you might like this. I did not. From what I understand, it’s not a very good horror movie. Watch with caution and expect it to suck.

Political Animals (2012) - TV Mini-Series - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I had to buy this through Apple and watch it on a Mac, but it was worth it. Sebastian plays TJ Hammond, the out gay son of a former American president who is clearly based on Bill Clinton. Sigorney Weaver plays the former first lady and current secretary of state. TJ struggles with addiction and relationship problems. His performance is heart-wrenching. The whole show is pretty great. I wish there was more of it.

Gone (2012) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - More of a psychological thriller than a horror movie. Sebastian has a small amount of screen time as the worried boyfriend. Amanda Seyfried is good. She carries the film well on her own.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - If you haven’t seen this yet, I’d like to know what it’s like under your rock. This is a movie I can rewatch a lot, and have. I 100% cried in the theater. Sebastian looks fantastic in uniform as Bucky Barnes. This is his introduction and the start of his ultimately tragic story (before he’s saved by his best friend, again).

Black Swan (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Sebastian is barely in this. He’s basically just in one scene in a dance club. But I watched it to try to complete StanQuest, and I had seen it before. It’s a good movie, but might induce some nightmares, depending on what scares you. If Natalie Portman didn’t at least get a nomination for an award she was robbed.

Gossip Girl (2007-2010) - TV Show - ⭐⭐ - Carter Baizen is a little shit. The episodes with Sebastian in them might have made more sense if I watched the show from the beginning, but I didn’t want to. His character is an asshole, but a very cute one.

Hot Tub Time Machine (2010) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐- The people who made this movie are bad at math, and their rules of time travel are sketchy at best, but it is funny and entertaining. Sebastian plays a ski patrol bro who’s paranoid about the Russians, which is hilarious irony to me. Worth watching if you want to laugh at something dumb.

Kings (2009) - TV Show - ⭐⭐⭐- Sebastian plays Jack Benjamin, the closeted gay son of the king of a fictional place. It’s loosely based on the David and Goliath story from the Bible. Sebastian is so sad and so gay. His family makes his life a living hell. Ian McShane is a force of nature in this. It’s only one season. I’ve watched it twice. I will watch it again.

Spread (2009) - Movie - no stars - This movie was practically unwatchable. It stars Ashton Kutcher and Anne Heche as a romantic couple, I guess? I ended up just skipping to Sebastian’s scenes and only watching those. Still painful.

The Covenant (2006) - Movie - ⭐⭐⭐ - This movie is so fuckig stupid, and I will watch it a ridiculous number of times. It’s about magic and teenagers, like The Craft for boys. Nothing about it makes sense. It’s terrible, almost irredeemable, but an evil Sebastian with magic powers is a siren song that will make me steer my boat right into the rocks.

And there you have it. There are a bunch of earlier things on IMDB that I just can’t find or don’t want to pay to rent. Maybe some day I’ll watch them and add them to this list.

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samwontshare · 3 years ago

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Black Widow Review I guess

Was Black Widow the send off movie for Nat that I wanted to see after Avengers 1 first dropped? No.

Did I really enjoy it anyway (with some criticisms)? Yes.

Here’s what worked and what didn’t work for me.

What worked for me:

-Yelena and Nat’s relationship carried this entire movie. It was start to finish a truly beautiful sister movie. Their relationship is so genuine and they have such a great connection on screen. The bickering! The older/little sibling dynamic is so powerful in this movie. Yelena’s need for Nat in her life, and Nat who suffered so much trying to just escape but her younger sibling was left behind. This was so painful and real for me as a survivor of childhood domestic violence - where my older sibling would often leave to protect himself, but then I was left behind to survive. It took me a long time to have empathy for him and his very real need to protect himself. Because we both were just trying to survive and it wasn’t our fault. I saw myself in Yelena and my brother in Nat’s decision to leave the Red Room. For them to come together to take down the Red Room together is just some beautiful, cathartic shit.

-Yelena. Every. Single. Thing. About. Yelena. The acting was just stunning - that Yelena has this childlike quality to her because for the first time, she can be a human being. She has beautiful character moments: fogging the glass, playing with her beer bottle, her enthusiasm for the vest with pockets she purchased AND modified thank you very much. Do I feel they dulled her trauma to keep the levity? Yes, but she still has some stunning moments of vulnerability - especially when she took her fake family to task and called out Nat for saying it wasn’t real. This was just *chef kiss* THE HEAD TOUCHES OMG.

-The found family dynamic. I think some folks might baulk at the forgiveness shown to the parental figures, but for me this rings true as someone again who experienced childhood violence. What’s often hard is that you feel such justified anger toward those who hurt you and didn’t protect you, but for many people (though not all) there is still a need to be loved by those people and you might still love them despite everything because there were good moments in all the horror. What I think actually made this work is that Melina and Alexei both took steps to correct their ways - they immediately helped the sisters. It spoke a bit on generational trauma - particularly re: Melina. Was it perfect? No. Do I think it will work for everyone? No. But I didn’t mind it. Damaged people trying to do better is my jam. And I was just happy Melina lived.

-The opening credits is one of the best things Marvel has ever done. Chilling.

-The humor. This shit was funny.

-The way it centered Yelena and Nat, women supporting women, and said fuck off to the male Avengers.

-This is unpopular but I was fine with Taskmaster. I remember Taskmaster from the Deadpool comics so I get why people are mad, but to me it threaded a nice loop in Nat’s story. Nat’s desperation to leave the Red Room and end her violence meant killing an innocent child - was it heroic? No. Was it human? Yes. Taking the time to make some amends there felt like nice closure, even if Antonia falls into one of my biggest issues with the film (see below).

-I’m glad Dreykov was an unexplained Bond villain with his ridiculous sky lair that everyone should have known about after NYC. Dreykov was symbolic for every shitty male abuser that’s plagued women. It ain’t about him. It’s about what he represented.

What didn’t work for me:

-How WOC showed up in the movie felt super uncomfortable. We see a Widow of color starting the movement to free the others, but she’s quickly dispatched and the job is taken over by two white women. There is a really horrifying scene where another WOC is forced by a white man to kill herself to further Nat’s horror about the situation. The only time in this movie WOC are on screen it’s to 1) die and 2) literally be brainwashed into servitude. There’s no agency for WOC in this movie and it sucks A LOT.

-That sort of plays into my other big problem with the plot and that was the whole brainwashing storyline. It fell really flat for me and I’ve been trying to figure out why. The movie started out really strong with the absolutely horrifying story of Nat and Yelena’s childhood and the opening credits that pull no punches about human trafficking and the literal child torture that takes place in the Red Room.

But the MCU once again proves it’s not ready to tackle deeper issues in their totality - they have to walk it back so it’s still the quippy, action oriented formula that makes every one a blockbuster. So instead of a story about the horrors of the Red Room and psychological conditioning of young trafficked girls into trained killers - and more importantly how those women still maintain their agency despite this, how they are survivors and how they break the chains of the Red Room to take their power back (a story much more grounded in real abuses), they put a sci-fi veneer over it.

Suddenly they’re trained assassins who are brainwashed into being trained assassins…? As if the horrors of the Red Room aren’t enough without the total removal of agency (and it’s handled with so much less grace than say Bucky Barnes’ experience, who breaks his own conditioning). The Widows spend the entire movie as nameless victims waiting for rescue and get absolutely no scenes of agency even when they’re freed.

To me, it undermined the whole trafficking commentary. They remained nameless. They remained victims. They remained waiting for rescue. But at least they’re not forgotten? Yeesh. It flattens the experience of real trafficked people and their resiliency. I think there was a way to both honor survivors and honor those who didn't survive and the movie didn't get that balance.

-I think a lot of other people have already pointed out that this movie feels like Black Widow 2 and we’re missing parts 1 and 3. Telling this story now is a let down. That Black Widow’s only movie is about passing the torch after she’s already dead is a disappointment (and that’s not a criticism of Yelena - who is pure gold in this movie). I left the movie still feeling like Nat herself was hollow, that she didn’t get the earnestness of Yelena’s character. She had an endearing moment of watching spy movies and a beautiful childhood opening and then she gets lost in her own movie bouncing from one fight to another. It was sad as hell. I wanted this to be about her time in the Red Room, her escape from the Red Room, her experiencing what it means to have freedom to decide.

-They really ruined that beautiful moment of Yelena mourning Nat with Val showing up. Look I don’t care if it would’ve been predictable, that movie would have hit harder if Nat whistled back. They didn’t even have to show her. It could have just ended that way.

Overall, I enjoyed it as a movie. I don’t know that I enjoyed it as Black Widow’s ONLY movie.

#black widow spoilers #black widow #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #mcu #cw human trafficking #cw abuse

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cake-writes · 4 years ago

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making the beast beautiful (one)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (cheating); Steve x Reader (married)

Story Warnings: Mental Illness, Borderline Personality Disorder, Splitting, Clinical Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Low Self-Esteem, Cheating, Angst, Drug Addiction / Abuse (Cigarettes, later Alcohol & Pills), Recovery, idk it’s gonna get depressing but we’ll have a happy ending!!!, Eventual Smut, 18+

Summary: Bucky knows the struggle, the pain, the emptiness. He understands. He can relate, because he knows. And some days, he still struggles – even told you once how low he’s been. But Steve? Your sweet, loving husband of a year and a half? No, Steve doesn’t understand. He can’t, no matter how hard he tries. So one day, you finally give up and give in to your most self-destructive temptation of all: your preoccupation with his best friend.

A/N: i know this is another wip SORRY but it’s literal word vomit because ya girl just really needed to yeet these sad bitch feels into outer space lmao 🤷

Your addiction to him starts slow, like the creep of nicotine through your veins from the cigarettes that he offers you on the rooftop.

Not often enough to do any damage, you try to tell yourself about your smoking habit – or maybe what you actually mean is the amount of time you spend with him. Bucky Barnes. Your husband’s best friend. Your former teammate. Not that it matters, because from one night to the next it’s all you can do to cling to the one good thing you have left, the one ray of light– or maybe he’s the one last shred of hope you’re willing to bind yourself to like a lifeline.

And if it snaps, you’ll fall.

Too bad the threads are already starting to fray.

And lucky, lucky you that you fall even sooner, because your reality has shifted to one shade off from normal, and you can hardly tell what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. You want to prioritize yourself because you know you should – maybe be a little selfish for once, to combat the awful feelings of self-hate that plague your mind, but you don’t know if that particular affirmation is driven by self-esteem or self-destruction.

You can’t tell anymore. You don’t know who you are.

You’re a mystery, a chameleon, borderline, and the only thing you do know is that Bucky makes you feel again – too much. He makes you feel things you shouldn’t, makes you obsess and overthink and daydream and wonder about what life could be like with him instead of Steve.

Because that’s what you do when you fall in love. You turn into that. A monster. A beast. A siren hell-bent on the destruction of yourself.

So, you fall. You fall deep. You fall hard. You fall fast, but it’s the savouring of the moment that always brings out the worst in you. It brings back the worst part of you that you’ve buried under layers and layers of trauma and depression – the clinginess and neediness and desperation at the center of it all, and every layer covering up the euphoria makes you cry because you have to hide it for fear of losing yourself all over again. Losing that feeling. Losing what makes you you.

You’re happy, now. Right? So why do things you shouldn’t do?

But you just can’t help yourself.

You shouldn’t have accepted that first cigarette.

You shouldn’t have texted him asking for another.

You shouldn’t have talked to him about personal things meant for your husband.

You shouldn’t have talked to him about the most personal of things: your husband. Your relationship. Your insecurities because of your illness.

You shouldn’t have – because Bucky knows. He understands. He’s been there.

He knows the struggle, the pain, the emptiness. He understands. He can relate, because he knows. He’s been there. He’s done that. And some days, he still struggles – even told you, once, how low he’s been.

He might have a different slew of acronyms to define his own mental state, but they all spell out the same thing: FUBAR. And so do yours.

But Steve? Your sweet, loving husband of a year and a half? The man of your dreams, the one you’d married in the gown of your dreams, in the venue of your dreams? He’s resilient. And let’s not forget your wedding, with Bucky standing right there as his best man – the same Bucky who accidentally caught the bouquet you threw in his direction, because your aim was purposefully off to make him feel like he belonged for once.

Even before you got to know him, you always had a soft spot for him.

And now? You’re fucked. Completely and utterly smitten.

No, Steve doesn’t understand. He absolutely, fundamentally cannot, through and through. Not for a lack of trying, though, or that’s what you keep trying to convince yourself. He supports you physically: makes dinner when you’re ‘tired’, runs errands when you’re ‘busy’, gives you love and affection just like he always has. You’re his wife; it’s his obligation. He has to.

That’s how you feel, anyway.

He treats you that way out of duty, not love, because Steve always has to put the greater good before himself. He puts your happiness before his own, you think. And he tries so hard – he does. And whenever he tells you he’s happy, you just can’t believe him because you think so poorly of yourself.

Why would anyone willingly want to be around you?

And emotionally? He tries so hard with that, too, but he just doesn’t know. He doesn’t get it. He never says the right things, only well-meaning insensitive ones because he hasn’t been there, he hasn’t done that, and he thinks it’s all in your head – that you’re just not trying hard enough, that you just don’t want to get better badly enough, because if you did then you’d be up and at ‘em already. Then you’d be healed. Then you’d be out of this funk and back in the field with him.

You’re not.

You won’t be for a long time.

You’re not the same girl he fell in love with. Not that he’s ever said that directly to you, but sometimes you think it’s how he feels. He signed up for a wife, not a child. He signed up for the you from a few years ago, now, not the shell of a person you’ve become because of your illness.

Ironic, considering what he was like as a kid, Bucky likes to remind you when you start to hate on yourself because of how you’ve changed – because you’re not normal anymore. He used to be so sick all the time. Then the serum made him right as rain. Don’t take it to heart.

Steve got better because of a miracle. Hard work and determination can only get a person so far, but it was pure luck that got him to the serum. You know that. Bucky knows that. Steve probably knows that deep down, too, but he doesn’t see it that way. All he sees is his hard work.

He lies to himself. He always has.

He probably lies to himself about his love for you, too.

So it’s hard to believe he’s happy. How can he be? You don’t bring anything to your relationship but self-pity and unhappiness. And how can you not take it to heart that Steve doesn’t understand? Your husband, the one who should be supporting you and validating you and making you feel like you’re seen, thinks you’re always throwing a pity party for yourself, thinks you’re just too lazy to get up and actually do the things you want to do, thinks you’re just not trying hard enough.

Come on, doll, he says. Let’s go for a walk.

To you it just sounds like, Walk it off.

Because he’s said that before, too. A hundred times. In the field, and out.

You’re not an agent anymore. You can’t handle it anymore. You can’t handle anything anymore.

Deep down, you’re convinced that Steve thinks because it’s not physical – that because there are no scrapes or bruises or broken bones to prove that you’re in pain – that your depression isn’t real. Not really. It’s an illness, same as any other, and he just doesn’t understand it because he can’t see any physical evidence of it.

Never mind the weight you’ve lost.

Never mind the bags under your eyes.

Never mind the crying spells, the dissociation – but then, you hide those from him the best you can these days. You don’t want him to see how bad you are anymore, because he just doesn’t get it. Because it hurts so much every time for him to look at you with those soft, confused baby blues and act like it’s not a big deal, like a little bit of sunshine’s a cure-all for your woes.

Ironic is right. The boy’s been to war and he hasn’t even processed his own trauma. Hasn’t even been to a shrink despite having two best friends poking and prodding for him to go. He’s in denial.

He refuses to believe that you just couldn’t get to the laundry today because you’re too exhausted from lying in bed all day. He refuses to believe that you couldn’t eat a bite because you didn’t even think to, too busy caught up in your own pain to remember, let alone care. He refuses to believe that you don’t even feel like you deserve to do anything good for yourself, so why even get up? Why bother? Why try to do anything anymore?

Just let the darkness take you away. Bit by bit. Piece by piece. And then, maybe one day you won’t have to feel anything anymore. Maybe you’ll just disappear.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

He refuses to get it, and some part of you feels like it’s because he doesn’t want to. Because he’s afraid to acknowledge that it’s true. That if he starts therapy like you did, then this could just as easily happen to him, too.

But hey, that’s his problem, not yours. You’re still learning to prioritize yourself – to break away from co-dependency and focus on your own needs for once. You’re barely keeping your head above water; why should you have to work on him, too, when he doesn’t offer you the same consideration? You’ve done what you can, and he just turns a blind eye because he doesn’t want to understand your issues. Or his.

So, you’ve given up.

You plaster on a happy face when he’s home – a painful, never-ending reminder that you’re not okay, and you keep your troubles to yourself. You’ve stopped sharing your struggles with the man you married because he doesn’t understand, and it hurts. You try so hard to act like nothing’s wrong that sometimes you dissociate, and you don’t come back to yourself until you have a cigarette hanging between your lips, lit by a Zippo engraved with a clever, If you want to make love, smile when you hand this lighter back.

Seeing the joke on Bucky’s lighter always brings you back, because it’s ridiculous. It’s a throwback to his army days; Steve found it awhile back with Bucky’s old personal effects. Makes you wonder what he must have been like back then.

Cigarette smoke and leather and sandalwood in the dead of night – and you always make a point to smile when you hand it back to him.

Temptation incarnate, now. What a dream he would have been back then.

Sometimes you text him when you and Steve have had another fight.

Sometimes he texts you when he needs you to ground him.

Sometimes the two of you just text each other for the hell of it. It’s usually related to someone’s mental health, usually yours, but occasionally not; after all, over the last few months he’s become your partner in misery and crime. The two of you have shared things to each other that you’ve never told another person, not even Steve; and in some ways, you feel like you’ve bared your soul to him.

It’s intimate.

In other ways, you’ve kept your guard up because you know you’re playing with fire.

It’s wrong.

You know you should really tell Steve about your midnight conversations – that you probably know his best friend almost as well as he does, now, but Bucky’s become a guilty sort of pleasure that you keep near and dear to your heart. He makes you feel things that you haven’t felt in a long time, but you’re not ready to acknowledge what that means. Not yet.

And neither is Bucky, evidently, because Steve’s still none the wiser.

Eight months of this and you still want more.

Your husband trusts you. He never asks who you’re texting or what you’re up to. You’ve given him no reason to believe otherwise. He feels safe and secure in your relationship, but maybe he’s turning a blind eye to that, too.

He shouldn’t.

You wish he didn’t.

Some small part of you wants him to catch you, and that’s what you resent the most. You’re self-destructive – ready to destroy the one good, stable thing in your life in favour of an impossibility, but you can’t deny that Bucky gives your brain the dopamine it needs, it craves, it lacks.

He’s been gone on a mission the last week and a half, but you saw the Quinjet fly in the hangar earlier in the evening, around six, and you’ve been keen to text him since. You’ve held back for a little while, not wanting to appear to eager to message him – so you’re certainly not too proud of how quickly your resolve cracks.

You, 10:33pm Please don’t tell me you came home with Lucky Strikes again.

Bucky, 10:41pm Sorry, princess. Didn’t realize I was seeing royalty tonight.

And then he sends through a photo of a slightly crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes in his hand – an invitation to come to the rooftop. Judging by the setting, he’s already there.

Despite his choice in a particularly harsh smoke, you’re more focused on the pet name that has your face burning hot. It’s something he’s started to tack on recently – ‘princess’ being most common, particularly when he’s teasing you about being spoiled in some way, but when he slips it in during a real conversation is what really makes your heart pound.

You know you should tell him to stop. You know you should, but, you don’t.

You like how it feels to feel for once.

You’re married. It’s wrong. You need to stop, but you just can’t help yourself. You’re lonely.

Steve’s still away on a mission, which doesn’t bother you nearly as much as it used to – you hope he returns safely, of course you do, but you don’t really miss him. Not like you should. That’s happened more often than not as of late, and you can feel your attention shifting the longer you keep up this dangerous game with his best friend.

If it even is a game, that is. It’s probably not. How could he possibly be attracted to you? You’re depressed. You’re boring. And, to top it all off, you’re his best friend’s wife.

Of course you’re the only participant. Bucky’s just humouring you. That’s all.

And now, as you swipe on some deodorant and attempt to make something out of the rat’s nest that is your hair, you feel a particularly awful level of disdain for yourself. The self-loathing pairs nicely with your poor appearance; you haven’t slept well in days, and you’ve barely eaten in just as long.

It’s only when Steve is here keeping you on a regular schedule that you do. Otherwise it’s a free for all anymore.

Bucky never seems to mind – just encourages you to go do what needs to be done when the conversation’s over. And somehow, you listen.

Sometimes he texts to ask if you’re doing okay while he’s away on a mission, too – and you always lie, because he can’t prove otherwise. He sends you a couple reminders anyway, because he just knows. He understands that you’d rather not burden him with the truth.

And then, when he comes back, he calls you out on your lie. He calls you out and reminds you how valuable you are – to Steve, mostly, and to the team. You’re irreplaceable. You’re needed.

He never says how important you are to him, but you always wish he would.

It’s stupid. It’s wrong.

You’re married.

Tonight will be no different. Despite your negative beliefs about yourself, he’ll tell you otherwise, but you won’t believe him. You never do, even though you desperately want to.

You’re a mess, so a beanie it is. You pull it over your tangled hair and somehow get your bangs looking presentable, at least; then you give your clothes the sniff test, spritz a little body spray just in case, and head out the door. You had a shower yesterday because even you couldn’t stand it anymore.

That’ll do.

Fingers tap anxiously at your feed in the quiet elevator. There’s some mild jazz playing, just like usual, but your heart pounds inside your chest – only brings more attention to your nerves.

Bucky hasn’t been gone long, but you’ve missed him.

It’s stupid. It’s wrong.

You’re married.

After exiting the elevator, a short flight of stairs takes you to the roof. Once you start to push, the fire exit door blows open of its own accord; it’s windy up here due to the change of seasons, not that you’ve even noticed it considering you haven’t been outside in over a week. The fresh air shoots straight through your hoodie and sweatpants, and you briskly rub your arms to warm up, immediately wishing you’d checked the temperature before you came outside, maybe grabbed a jacket. You hadn’t even thought of it. Your mind’s a mess.

Hadn’t thought of dinner, either. Or lunch.

That’s when a heavy leather jacket is deposited ungracefully on your shoulders, and you glance up behind you to find Bucky standing there, giving you the look. It’s the one that pre-empts the lecture. “That help?”

You nod, basking in the smell of him – sandalwood and spice. Ah. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He knows.

He can tell with just one look that you’ve been lying to him – that you haven’t been taking care of yourself like you said you were. But he doesn’t reprimand you this time, or offer you platitudes; the disapproving look is enough.

Slippers on your feet, you pad over to the two lawn chairs he set up awhile back near the edge of the eastern wing; it’s got a nice view of the landing pad, but beyond that is the lake, and the two of you have come up here long enough to catch the sunrise once or twice. It’s nice.

“Good mission?” you ask, shoving your hands into your pockets as you collapse into your chair. It’s made of a terrible green fabric, seated low enough to the ground to let you curl your knees to your chest and cry when you want to. And you do. A lot.

This time, however, you’ve got your legs extended far ahead of you. You don’t want to talk about yourself tonight. You want to focus on him.

A distraction. That’s all. That’s what you try to tell yourself.

The other chair, woven blue and white, is where Bucky comes to rest just like always. You suspect that it was the cheapest one in the store, because it creaks and groans and you always think it’s going to break when he sits in it, but it never does. It’s also taller than yours, so you call him old man every now and then for it because that’s just hilarious.

It’s not flirting. It’s not.

Not even when you’ve nearly fallen into his lap on more than one occasion thanks to drinking beforehand.

“Well,” he starts hesitantly, pausing to consider his answer, “I made it back.”

His tone is soft – distant. Not a good mission, then.

“I’m glad you made it back,” you offer, giving him what you hope is a hopeful smile. It feels fake, but the intention behind it is real.

He studies your face for a moment or two, before he averts his eyes. “You’re probably the only one. I had to do some things on the mission that I—” He cuts himself off, then, and pulls the pack of Lucky Strikes out of his pocket to fiddle with. A crutch. “I don’t like to use my strength when I don’t have to. Makes people nervous.”

He’s told you about it before. By ‘people’ he means ‘agents’. Other agents. The ones he was working with, no doubt. As if his arm isn’t reminder enough, sometimes if he doesn’t hold back – well, they start to treat him a little differently after that. It’s a reminder that he’s not fully human.

You can empathize. “It’s a little shocking at first,” you remind him gently, “but you do get used to it. I did. It just takes some time.”

Of course, you also married a super soldier, so there’s that. You can’t really gauge what’s ‘normal’ anymore.

That’s when he cracks open the pack of cigarettes – half full, which means he must have been smoking on the mission, too, something he doesn’t usually do – and when he meets your eyes, the dark, anxious look there turns your stomach to knots.

“Are you?” he asks, voice low and laced with an emotion you just can’t place – or maybe you’re too afraid to acknowledge that you can, and very easily feel the same way. “I could break you in thirty ways before you could even tell me to stop.”

Your brain halts like a record scratch when the clear implication of his words sends a jolt straight to your core. Not just because it’s true, the threat, but because of the dangerous way he’s staring at you, coupled with the casual authority in his voice.

He could hurt you so easily, but you know he wouldn’t. Not you.

He could do other things, too – something a lot less violent and a lot more pleasurable – but you don’t let yourself consider that. You can’t. Even if it’s what he’s implying.

Is it what he’s implying?

You’re married. He knows that.

There’s a long pause while you try to gather your thoughts, until you finally manage as evenly as you can, “Are you trying to scare me?”

Your voice is still a little hoarse despite how much you willed it not to be. He did scare you a little – not that you’d ever admit it, because he excited you a hell of a lot more, and you hate that, too. But you love it even more.

Your question makes his shoulders slump, just slightly, just enough to let you know that that’s exactly what it was – that Bucky was lashing out, in his own way. That he’s the one who’s scared. That he’s trying to push you away.

Why?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you reassure him, because you aren’t. You could never be. Not like that. What you’re afraid of is so much worse than that – because it involves him and you, and you can’t make yourself stop wanting more of this. More of him. More of what he threatened to do to you – the underlying meaning you hope to god you’re not imagining, but you should never, ever want.

It’s wrong.

“You should be,” he responds, quiet, rolling the cigarette he’s half pulled out of the pack in between his fingers like he’s debating whether to light it, but he’s trying his hardest not to this time. “You shouldn’t be up here with me.”

The ball drops.

The truth that the two of you have been dancing around for months finally comes out, and you laugh – you laugh, because otherwise you’ll cry. “What are you talking about?”

“Darlin’, you’re—” he starts, and then lets out a frustrated sigh and shoves the cigarette right back in, shoves the pack shut too for good measure. Blue eyes burn into yours. “You know why.”

“We’re friends, Bucky,” you emphasize, lightly, but deep within your chest you can feel the anger, the anxiety start to burn and meld together into something entirely unrecognizable. It’s the tiniest ember now, but it won’t be if this keeps up. You know you’re married. You know that. You don’t need the reminder. “We’re just talking. What’s the problem?”

“Come on, sweetheart.” He’s calm, too calm, and it bothers you. “Don’t play dumb. You’re too smart for that.”

It’s just pretend. It’s not real. You’re happily married with Steve. You’re happy.

Right?

“That’s all it is,” you argue. “I’m married. You said so yourself. Steve and I are happily married.”

Saying it out loud is just another cold, brutal reminder that you aren’t. Just like the façade you’re forced to wear.

“Yeah? You’re happy?” Bucky asks, pulling himself to his feet – and you suddenly realize how tall he is when he’s towering over you like this. You’re not scared, no, you love it. And that makes it worse, the way he makes your heart race like this. “Then there’s gotta be a reason why you haven’t told him about our little talks.”

Because they’re more than that. That’s the reason.

“Well, why haven’t you?” you shoot back, finally getting to your feet, too, feeling your face flush with anger. “You haven’t told him either. Why’s that, huh?”

Tense silence falls over the two of you as you glare at each other, the only light illuminating your features coming from the full moon. It’s a beautiful night, clear and chilly and bright, and you originally had hopes of maybe stargazing with him like you’ve done so many times before.

Not tonight.

He’s pushing you away. He wants to push you away. You know he is, it’s obvious – he tried one approach, and when that didn’t work, he went for the thing he knew would invoke a reaction. The thing that would hurt the most.

Steve. Your marriage. Your happiness, or lack thereof.

No matter how many times you try to tell that to the rational side of your brain, you just can’t handle it. It’s another rejection from someone you cared about – someone you felt yourself growing a potentially unhealthy attachment to – and he just had to hurt you like all the rest. He wanted to hurt you. He wanted to see you suffer.

You can’t stand him.

So you shrug off his jacket and shove it at him. “Take your fucking jacket,” you bite out. “You want me gone? Well, I’m going. Hope you’re happy.”

The way he takes it from you catches you off guard, blue eyes wide with hurt and surprise – but you don’t give him another second of your time. Instead you spin around on your heel and stomp your way back to the access door.

You’re not well enough for this. You’re depressed. You’re broken. You’re lonely.

And now, the only person who understands has thrown you away – discarded you like you’re nothing. Maybe because you are. You’re worthless.

Your fingertips just brush against the handle when you’re tugged back by the wrist, and then his arms are around you, his chest pressing into your back.

He’s warm.

It’s wrong.

But it feels right, and you hate how easily you melt into his touch, into the feeling of his lips at your ear.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispers, and you’re done for.

The heat from your anger warps into something else – something that burns you up in a different way, and you swallow thickly at the feeling of his arms so snug around your waist. “What do you want, then?”

It’s barely audible, your question -- but he hears it just fine. Soft lips drag from your ear to your pulse, and you shiver, lulling your head back onto his shoulder.

“You tell me,” Bucky breathes against your skin. “I need to know what you want.”

The two of you are playing a dangerous game, and the stakes are only getting higher. You both have a lot to lose, but you’re the one taking the higher risk. Not him.

“I want—” His teeth gently nip at your neck and you can’t help yourself. “I want you—”

And then your back is pressed into the closed door, cold metal biting through your sweats but you don’t even notice, too focused on the feeling of his lips on yours. They’re soft and ever-so-slightly chapped, and his stubble scratches just a little, pleasantly, just enough to hurt in the best way.

It’s hot, too hot, god, you can’t handle the heat of his body against yours—

“Bucky,” you gasp against his lips, sliding your arms around his neck, fingers carding through his hair to pull him closer. You can taste with the barest bite of mint from his gum, along with the slightest hint of cigarette smoke, and you realize—

He must have been up here for awhile.

Overthinking. Wondering what to do. Lost in thoughts of you, perhaps.

The idea of it sends a rush of delirium through you, and you open your mouth just enough to let his tongue explore – or dominate, which you soon find you like very much when Bucky does it to you. His flesh hand cups the side of your face as he kisses the breath out of you, and his vibranium one snugly presses into your lower back – purposely, you soon find, because suddenly your knees go weak and your arms tighten around his neck to catch yourself from falling.

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Oh, wow. That’s never happened before.”

“First time for everything,” he teases, kissing your forehead as he steadies you back on both feet – and it’s then that the realness of the situation seems to sink in.

You’ve just cheated on your husband.

He’s just kissed his best friend’s wife.

There’s a prolonged silence as the two of you look at each other, watching, wondering, waiting, and then—

“We have to tell him,” you say, a little uneasily. “Just… not yet. Figure this out first.”

You can feel the desperation to see where this leads, no matter what a bad idea it is.

Bucky swallows. It’s clear that the prospect of lying to Steve bothers Bucky just as much as it bothers you, but you know he feels that same desperation when he suggests, “And if it turns out to be nothing, then…”

“Yeah. No harm, no foul.”

You won’t tell him. Because if it’s nothing, then it’s not worth worrying about.

Even if it’s wrong.

Right?

two

and a moodboard I made because why not

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes

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sxveme-2 · 4 years ago

Text

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Three: The One When They're Alone

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4040

Lily knew was never a huge fan of Christmas. The only reason she put the amount of effort she did into it was for Hunter. He loved the holiday. As a child, it was usually one of the only days that his father would be home the whole day. But it was one of Lily's least favourites, because her parents weren't typically home for Christmas. Usually, Lily and her siblings would find themselves up at their grandparents. She wasn't complaining, she loved her grandparents, and she knew her parents wanted to be home, but their work was essentially them constantly travelling. And then further in her future, Scott may have been there for Hunter, but he was not there for Lily. He was seemingly at his worst during the holidays...and she just happened to be the one on the receiving end of his anger.

Lily hadn't seen Bucky get angry yet. It sat in the back of her mind like a looming threat, and she wondered if the past few months had simply been a facade. That in reality, he was no different. Did she think it was true? No, no she didn't think he would ever hurt her. But she had suffered such trauma from Scott that she just...she was never too sure.

"Your turn, doll," Bucky smiled, picking up two boxes that were very clearly wrapped by Rose, seeing as the girl was sending a knowing nod at her older sister, "Yeah yeah Rose wrapped them, my attempt was sad."

Lily laughed and kissed the man's cheek before turning to his presents that sat in her lap. She picked up the first one, it was long and rectangular, not too large either. Raising her eyebrow, she carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a lovely leather case with her name scripted on the top of it. Looking over at him, she pursed her lips before lifting the black lid, feeling the tears prick at her forest green eyes. She stared down at the silver necklace, running her hands over the scripted letter that hung from the chain. It was a small pendant, simple and discreet. But it was something that made Lily's heart grow three times its size. A simple B hung from the chain.

"Buck..." she whispered, looking up at him with glazed and teary eyes, "It's lovely." she cooed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips before lifting it from the white pillow it rested on.

"Let me." Bucky chuckled, taking the piece of jewelry and moving her blonde hair across her shoulder. She turned her back to him and shivered at his metal hand brushing against the back of her neck as he clasped the necklace together.

"Alright open the other one." Gen said excitedly, earning a head tilt from the blonde. Bucky chuckled lowly from behind her and Lily readjusted herself in her seat, carefully unwrapping the next box.

As she opened the lid of the next box, her confusion only grew. Inside the box laid a single white envelope with her name written. Reaching in and pulling out the box, Lily furrowed her eyebrows. Opening the envelope, her heart only continued to grow. Inside sat a picture of a cabin, covered in snow and decorated with lovely garland. The cabin was built of logs, and had a fire burning on the inside. The snow was so perfectly landscaped it almost seemed fake, but she knew it was just a picturesque image taken to lure people in for what she figured would be a vacation. In the bottom, a handwritten note was written out in Bucky's hand writing, with a simple few words summing up exactly what it was.

"Just the two of us." He repeated aloud, hand resting on the small of her back, tracing gentle patterns, "It's Steve's cabin. Y'know with him retired now, he doesn't exactly have a lot to do. But he said it's ours for as long as we want it." he continued, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"It's perfect, Buck," she whispered, a gentle chuckle lacing her voice as she turned and placed a kiss to his forehead, "Absolutely perfect."

-----

And it was. Bucky and Lily had decided to take Steve up on his offer the weekend of Valentine's Day. The couple had reached three months together officially, and she figured it would be nice for them to experience the romantic weekend alone together. No kids, no sisters, no work, no distractions. Bucky had promised her that there would be no interruptions, and that it was just going to be the two of them. He made an emphasis on the whole 'no work' part, and Lily would be sure to hold him to it.

Turning off the car, Bucky turned to look at Lily with a kind and loving smile on his face, "Alright doll, we've arrived."

Lily glanced out the window and smiled at the snowy landscape. It was February so the cold wasn't unbearable, but it wasn't exactly a comfortable temperature either. Lily was a Long Island native, so Northern New York weather wasn't exactly her favourite thing. It dipped down quite low and she would have to estimate it sat at about minus ten celsius currently. Either way, she was just grateful for the time alone with Bucky. It had felt like ages since the two didn't have something going on around them. Whether it be Bucky's work, or Lily's. Not to mention, Rose was nearing her due date and constantly stressed about the arrival of her baby, while also finding somewhere to live that wasn't Lily's.

"That drive felt like hours," Lily teased, leaning over and nudging Bucky's arm, "I'm just glad you didn't fall asleep on me old man." she quipped, popping open her door and stepping out from the car.

"You have been hanging out with Sam way too much," Bucky chuckled, following the blondes suit, "You're starting to sound like him."

"Well the man is a comedic genius, I should be taking pointers." She hummed, picking up her bag from the back seat and hauling it over her shoulder, rounding the car to meet Bucky.

"Don't tell him that, it'll inflate his ego even bigger than it is." Bucky chuckled, walking over and quickly grabbing her by the waist.

The blonde let out a bright laugh, curling over in his arms and stumbling along the snow. Bucky's chuckle filled her ears like a sweet song as the two stumbled back towards the log cabin belonging to their friend. His lips found her cheek and peppered loving pecks along it, causing her giggles to evolve into small squeaks as she fumbled to pull out the keys. When she found them, it didn't take long for the blonde to unlock the door and peel herself from the supersoldiers arms. Dropping her bag and tugging the grey knit hat off of her hair, Lily turned to look back at the man who stood in front of the door. Placing her hands on her hips, she admired him for a moment. Nothing was on her mind. Just him.

The way his eyes sunk a bit deeper into his face due to the years of struggle and trauma. The way he had let his beard grow out a bit, not fully a beard but a thicker stubble. Were his shoulders always so broad? Lily admired the way his arm flexed when he removed his own hat, swallowing deeply. But the biggest thing that stood out to her was the way he looked at her. That deep thought sort of gaze, as if he were doing the same thing she was. Admiring everything about the other. No exterior factors playing any games, just the two of them. Alone. He looked at her so lovingly, watching her every move intently and studying the way she acted. He was so in tune with everything about Lily that she began to blush, and he was merely looking at her, neither had spoken.

"What're you staring at, Barnes?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothin', Osborne." he retorted, closing the door and sliding his jacket off before turning back towards her, a smirk evident on his lips.

Pursing her lips into a smile, Lily ran forward and jumped up onto the man, wrapping her legs around his torso. Her arms snuck around his neck, while his found underneath her thighs. Their lips hovered mere centimetres from the others, breathing in the others' existence before finally connecting. It was cheesy and cliche but she felt fireworks deep within her stomach. The two moved together like ocean waves joining together, creating a large body of water. Lily's hands tangled themselves into the short strands on the top of his head and Bucky stumbled his way to the couch. He bent over and laid her gently on the leather couch. She hummed softly at the feeling of a yarn blanket tickling at her neck as he hovered above her. Both of their faces were flushed from the cold outside and the passionate moment they had just shared. Bucky's steel blue eyes stared down at her and he reached over the couch. Furrowing her eyebrows, Lily watched as he pulled out a black old fashioned camera.

"Surprised you know how to work one of those things, old man." she teased, covering her face with her chilled hands.

"Oh don't get smart with me now, doll," he purred, moving her hands with his metal one, "you'll regret it later." the man winked, quickly snapping a photo of the woman before tossing the camera onto the table.

"Is that a threat or a promise." Lily returned, a smirk evident on her lips.

"Well...I did tell Steve he'll probably want to hire a deep cleaning service after we're done." He chuckled, resting his weight on his heels.

"James Barnes!"

-----

Lily hummed gently to herself to the song that played through the small kitchen in the cabin. Saving All My Love For You by Whitney Houston was her background noise of choice as she put together a romantic dinner for her and Bucky to commemorate their first night there. The lyrics left her mouth in a soft tone as she chopped up cucumbers for the salad, her hips swaying gently to the music. Bucky had stepped out to the grocery store in town to pick up a few things they had left back at the house, and Lily wanted to surprise him. She had packed a dress that her and Gen had found at a vintage shop in Manhattan, it was 40's inspired, with a deep forest green colour, a bow at the collar with a keyhole that exposed a bit of her collarbone, and hit just below her knee. It had short sleeves, and made her feel like she should be on the dance floor of The Cotton Club in Harlem during the 1940's. She had attempted the classic pin curls of the time but...they were subpar.

Glancing behind her, Lily stirred the marinara sauce as the chicken baked in the oven. But the lights of the car made her stomach drop. She was hoping the snow would slow him down enough for her to finish dinner and have it ready for him when he got home. Pouting to herself, Lily returned to her chopping. Well, as much as she wanted her plan to fully execute itself, she tried her best. Not to mention, he had shown himself to be a fast driver. Her voice continued to sing out the lyrics to Whitney, as she checked on the chicken. She popped her head up briefly when she heard the crunching of snow grow closer to the door. She stood, and brushed off the soft dress she wore as she waited.

"The snow is crazy, doll, I swear," Bucky's voice called, "but I got the snacks you wanted. I also rented a few movi- woah."

A blush flooded the blonde's face as she locked eyes with the man across from her. He was covered in snow and carrying four different grocery bags. But they fell from his fists as he stared at her longer. Insecurities washed over Lily at his silence and she crossed her arms over her stomach, that familiar queasy feeling returning. Her eyes shifted to stare down at her feet as she shuffled on the hardwood floor, waiting for him to say something, or anything at that.

She didn't even hear him take off his jacket, his boots, or anything. She didn't even hear him walk over to her. But she did feel the way his arms slipped around her waist, hands playing along her stomach as the music changed into the 40's love songs she had put in the queue. The gentle sounds of guitar played as Aubrey Hepburn's melodic tone filled the kitchen. Moon River began to play, and Bucky nuzzled his face into the crook of Lily's neck. Her eyes fluttered shut as he swayed behind her, his grip moving her with him. The food long forgotten about, Lily turned to face him, arms wrapping around his neck. Their foreheads met one anothers, eyes shut as they continued to sway back and forth in the kitchen. With the snow falling outside, and the delectable smells filling the cabin, Lily felt like she was in a dream. Any worry she had ever felt leaving her as the moment consumed her.

His lips ghosted hers as the song came to an end, but his grip didn't waver. The two continued with their dance, seconds turning to minutes as time seemed to cease to exist. The only thing both felt was the bodies of each other. His hands gripping her waist, rubbing circles through the silky material of her dress. The smoky musk of him filling her senses acting as though it were a drug, sending her into a state of euphoria. She knew they weren't a conventional couple, but it were these moments that reminded her that they could be. The couple that went on walks on the beach, or walked the dog through central park. Or danced in the kitchen at 3 in the morning. Went on ice cream dates, with or without Hunter. Spent time talking and telling the other just what went on in their heads. Growing together as separate people with a shared love.

But the fire alarm pulled her back from her daydreams, and reality smacked Lily in the face.

"Oh my god the chicken!" She exclaimed, pulling away from Bucky's strong grip as she grabbed her oven mitts and pulled open the oven, a puff of smoke wafting into her face.

Bucky laughed gently as Lily scrambled around, trying to salvage the rest of the meal she had planned. When she saw the sauce and chicken however, her heart sunk down to the floor. Groaning, the blonde placed her elbows on the counter and her face in her hands. She shook her head and felt the heartbreak spread through her at her failed evening attempt.

"If it makes you feel better," Bucky cooed, lifting his girlfriends chin to look at him, "I bought your favourite pizza, and rented your favourite movie...and just so happened to pick up your favourite ice cream," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, "and as hot as you look in this dress...why don't we just get into pyjamas and watch a few movies and veg out."

Lily smiled sadly at him and nodded, "I like that plan. I should have known that trying to cook alone would be a disaster."

"I give it an A for effort."

"Oh whatever, metal man."

-----

Lily groaned as she stretched her arms above her head, before rubbing the heel of her hand into her eyes. Peeling the lids apart, the bright sun sent a shock through her system. Collecting her barings, Lily realized her and Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch. She had to admit, it was a pretty comfy couch. It was made of leather and had deep sides with the tufted coverings, and small cashmere blankets that were not at all big enough to cover anyone. But the two had grabbed a few spare from the closet before they settled in for their movie night. Glancing down, Bucky's head rested on her stomach, the man still sound asleep. She admired the calmness in his face, the stress lines faded and smoothed out as he rested. Reaching behind her, she grabbed ahold of the camera he had brought and quickly snapped a photo, admiring his gentle snores. She ran her fingers through his hair and tilted her head to the side. Lily had known Bucky was handsome, hell, the first time she saw him she knew it.

He had chiseled cheekbones, a sharp jawline that was covered with stubble. His cheeks hollowed slightly, and his eyes creased at the edges. His nose was straight with a slight bump to it, and it fit his face shape perfectly. His eyes were hooded and even closed, held stories that she couldn't imagine. While asleep, they were less noticeable, but there were creases in the centre of his forehead, and Lily's stomach did a flip. His breathing was still that of a deep sleep, and she couldn't help but trace the contours of his face. The aged lines that each told a tale of his life. The rough patches of hair that prickled at the blonde's still hands as she continued to admire him.

Moments later, he began to stir from between her legs, causing Lily to giggle slightly as his nose scrunched. His eyes seemed to force themselves open at the noise, and the same feeling she got from the bright light seemed to hit Bucky as well. Her soft coos caused a groan to emit from the man's throat as he burrowed his face deeper into her stomach, pulling the blankets further over them both. Shaking her head, Lily pulled herself up from underneath the large man, or at least tried to. His weight was on a certain part of her body that just held her in one place. Throwing her head back, Lily shook her head before looking back down at him.

"Buck, c'mon, let's get up." She sighed, ruffling the messy curls on his head.

"Five more minutes." He whined, pulling her closer by her hips.

"No. I'm a mother, I know what five more minutes means," she laughed, "and we are not spending all day on the couch. Lets go skate on the lake today, love."

Bucky shot up, eyes wide at her request, "No. No, I refuse."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Lily crossed her slightly cramped legs, "...and why do you refuse, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky scratched the back of his neck as he avoided the intense gaze that Lily was sending his way. Lowering her eyes, the blonde crawled forward and took his face into her hands. They locked eyes and for a moment, she thought about kissing him. But she figured it would be better to figure out why he was so against going skating. Then it clicked, and she realized just why he was so against it. Pursing her lips to keep from smiling, Lily leaned back onto her heels.

"Bucky...do you not know how to skate?" She wondered, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"...Do not tell Steve or Sam they will be on my ass about it." Bucky quickly said, taking his girlfriends hands into his own.

"I won't, I won't, but I'm invoking the 'It's Valentine's Day' card. Because it's Valentines Day, and it will be romantic," she grinned, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, "plus, I'll teach you how to skate. It's not that hard I promise. I saw they have skates down at the lake so c'mon, gotta get a good pair."

"You're gonna be the death of me, doll."

"That's what I'm here for."

-----

He wasn't lying when he said he didn't know how to skate. Lily skated gracefully out onto the ice, waiting for Bucky to lace up his skates. It had been a while since she had skated, seeing as it wasn't something she did commonly. She used to go all the time with Gen back in Long Island when they were younger, but eventually they stopped. But her muscle memory kicked in as she twirled and skated around the ice. She dodged children and couples as she warmed up her body. Only to spot Bucky hesitantly staring at the ice in front of him. Lily made her way back towards him, stretching her mitt covered hand out towards him.

"It's not going to bite, Buck," Lily smiled softly, moving a bit closer, "C'mon. I'll be here the whole time." she reassured, gripping his hand as he curled it into hers.

The moment he stepped onto the ice, both ended up falling. Him from a lack of balance, and her from the fact he fell. Bucky groaned while Lily laughed, pushing herself off the ground and placing her hands on her hips. He had flopped his arms out and let his head fall against the ice, a clearly forced pained look on his features. Rolling her eyes, Lily gripped his hand and yanked, attempting to pull him back up onto his feet. The thing is, he was a supersoldier, she was a doctor. She had strength, hell, she pushed out a child. But you see, Bucky was, once again, a supersoldier. Dropping his arm, and crossing her own over her chest, Lily glared down at him.

"I won't cook dinner for a week if you don't help me get you up." Lily threatened, arching her brow.

Opening his eyes, Bucky mirrored her expression, "Is that a threat or a promise?" He teased, resulting in a handful of snow to be thrown at him. A low laugh escaped from his chest as Bucky heaved himself up, gripping onto Lily for support.

"Wow you're such a comedian." She quipped, rolling her eyes and gripping onto his forearms.

The two skated for a few hours. Two to be exact. Bucky had essentially latched onto Lily's waist the entire time. She skated around, dragging him behind her as he bent over and hugged himself to her back, arms tightly wound around her waist. At one point, he did let go and try to stand on his own. He lasted about...five minutes. After that, Lily had to offer her back as support for the poor man so he didn't go tumbling face first into the ice. The entire time was spent laughing and stumbling, as well as Lily trying her hardest to just get him to stand. Sadly, she didn't have much luck. He continued to grip onto her even when they were heading back towards the edge to leave and take off their skates. It was endearing, but Lily had hoped to get somewhere with it. Still, she had a good time. And seeing The Winter Soldier be genuinely afraid to fall made Lily's heart swell. Seeing that more vulnerable side of him made Lily sure they were moving in a good direction in their relationship.

As the two neared the cabin, Lily saw a familiar car parked on the road across from where they were staring. She didn't think too much of it as they walked into the cabin, ridding of their coats and winter gear they had layered on, to face the bone chilling cold that had taken over the outdoors. Both then dropped onto the couch with cups of tea and coffee, Lily had the tea, and Bucky the coffee. His arm draped around her, drawing patterns into her knit sweater covered arm.

But the peace didn't last long.

A knock on the door surprised Lily and Bucky. They both stopped talking about their ideal vacations, and turned to look at the door. Lily placed her tea down and stood to her feet, making her way over towards the wooden piece. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she glanced over at Bucky before she pulled the door open. Her jaw went slack and mind went blank when she saw the person. Because she knew the reason he would be here.

"Hey Lily...is Bucky here?"

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bucky-iss-bae · 4 years ago

Text

The Perfect Man (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

A/N: This... this probably isnt my best work. I lost my job this morning. I’m feeling like shit. I started to worry about everything and it’s been a bad fucking day. Feel lonely and lost so pls just pray for ya girl xoxo

This I started to write and didnt stop.I just typed and typed. I didnt even know what I was writing, it probably makes no sense.

I hope you do enjoy - Sorry for the mistakes and confusion bc ya girl is ready to cry herself to sleep xoxo

(Side note - I’ve now got time to write lmao)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Fandom: MCU/Marvel

Summary: Reader has a bad day and Bucky fixes it.

Warnings: Brief mentions of Anxiety, some angst. But also fluff xoxo

Word count: 1600

Masterlist Fandom List

Everyone has bad days, they’re inevitable. Days where you want to curl up in a ball and cry, listen to that sad song playlist on Spotify and ignore the world. Ignore everything around you, quiet down the stress and anxiety that’s going on in your head, and try, try, to relax. It never happens though.

Instead life comes at you at 120mph, you’re constantly working towards deadlines constantly working towards trying to get the job done, and never leaving any time for yourself.

When you had days like this, Bucky knew. He could sense it in the way you messaged him. From the moment you replied to his good morning text (because god forbid you be up at the hour that man is), and although he’s always acting like a grandpa with technology, the way your own nana does, he understood it, but maybe a bit better.

He could sense the lack of enthusiasm in your text messages, the way you used your words were different than usual. Bucky knew you had days like this, everyone has days like this. Bucky sometimes has days like this. But the difference between the two is, Bucky has access to a therapist whenever he likes, Bucky went through something traumatic, his whole life being a trauma. Instead now, you’re his happy place. The place where he feels safe, where his mind can relax, where he feels at ease.

Luckily for you, you were the same. You knew that the only thing better than curled up in a ball crying, listening to sad music would be if Bucky were to hold you in his arms. Doing this could keep the tears at bay, but that heavy feeling sat on your chest, it could be ever so slietly lifted while curled up against Bucky, and then you know as the day goes on, the night goes on, it’s like that heavy lift is completely gone just by him being there, by him making you happy, keeping you safe.

Today was a bad day, Bucky knew it, the same way he always did. Although it was rare for you in comparison to him, he still caught on quickly.

He left for his run at 4am with Steve and Sam, got back in at half 6. He sent you a message, and usually you were halfway through rushing and getting ready for work. Being an elementary teacher meant you had to be at school for 7 or half 7 most days to feel organized.

That meant waking up at about half 5 or 6am, meaning while on your way to work, you could have a quick chat with Bucky before teaching 30 little rascals, all of which held a special place in your heart no matter how stressful the day could be.

But this morning, he knew something was up, you usually replied within about 5 minutes, it was routine for the two of you, as soon as he got out of the shower, he would call you, and you would be with your coffee, ready to go.

But he finally got a message long after his shower,

‘Running late, talk later’

The simplicity of the text was something he stared at, the compared it to other messages, Bucky was scared he had done something wrong, the night before he might’ve said an off-handed comment that annoyed you. But then he couldn’t think of anything, you always put a small emoji at the end of your messages, or at the end of conversations, which this definitely was. Or when you’ve ran late in the past, it’s been a voice note, or something else.

He had a funny feeling, and he knew today, despite it being Friday, would be a long day for you.

He knew you would be home for about 5pm, so he had until then to make sure everything would be perfect, everything would be exactly as you want it to make you feel safe and happy, and to help you through a day that would essentially be the worst.

The two of you had been in a relationship for a while now, long enough for him to often stay at your apartment, or for him to be comfortable enough there by himself.

He started of making sure he had all the ingredients for your favorite food, it was a must, he also made sure that he had some flowers, chocolates, and a few of your other favorite treats there as well, which may or may not be a bottle of wine.

He set the presents aside before getting started on everything else. Your apartment was already so tidy so he didn’t need to make many changes, instead he set up a little fort, something that he used to do with his sisters. Building forts out of whatever they could find.

He added a few fairy lights and had bought some scented candles that had already been lit around the room. He also added a few face masks that he would be hoping to use tonight.

After organizing everything he moved onto the cooking. When his mama raised him alongside his sisters, he knew the basics of cooking way back when, but now it was entirely different. Now he had Sam teaching him the same way his own mom used to. Sam gave him spice and flavor, what works and what doesn’t for so many meals. He made sure to incorporate all of this now.

It had been a strangely long day, one full of anticipation, hoping he hadn’t over stepped, he got Sam to grab some cupcakes from your favorite bakery, setting them aside with the rest of your gifts.

He made sure that he looked presentable for the time you were due to arrive home, not forgetting the bath salts and candles in the bathroom ready for your arrival.

Bucky heard the click in the door and his heart rate went right up, he saw you enter. He saw how tired you looked from your face, the bags that meant your sleep wasn’t as good as it could’ve been, and maybe your day. He saw the usual light that surrounded you dimmed down, despite Bucky Believing you look at beautiful as ever, he knew that today had been a mentally rough day.

Your bags dropped when you entered the apartment, gasping as you looked around. You could smell the fresh warm candles, the strong smell of food, everything felt like home, what you just wanted to come home to, all day and every day.

You eyes landed on Bucky stood there looking nervous, he was wearing the comfiest clothes imaginable, gray sweats, and a fitted t-shirt. It made your heart melt as tears started to stream down your face. Overwhelmed with the love he showed for you.

“Bucky” you whimpered, you had felt bad in the morning, when you had less than 10 minutes to get ready, and you sent Bucky an incredibly blunt message. You had felt bad all day, but it had been such a difficult day for you to get through. But looking at this man in front of you, he knew you too well.

“What’s all this?” you whispered out through your tears,

“This… is to show you how much I love you Y/N. To show you that I love you just as much on the bad days, as I do good days. To show you that I will be by your side forever. That you don’t need to worry, and that I am here for you sweetheart. Always”

You couldn’t help the sobs as you cried into his chest. He held you and moved you to your bedroom, he held you and let you cry until you had gotten it all out of your system, you sat there red, tear stained face as he ran the bath for you, letting you choose your favorite bath crystals and bubbles you wanted to put in.

He sat and massaged your scalp, letting the stress of the day go by, giving you a glass of wine whilst in the tub.

Once you were dry, and in the comfiest clothes you own, Bucky carried you to the living room, the two of you sat in the fort he had built, and that you loved and sat eating your favorite meal,

“This is amazing Buck, I love it. I love you. Thank you so much” you whispered giving him a kiss,

The two of you were spending time in one another’s arms, watching films that made you laugh and cry, eating the food he made, the cakes he requested. You knew Bucky was the man for you.

“Sorry about this morning” you murmured, your head resting on his chest,

Bucky shook his head, “Don’t worry about it sweetheart. I know what it’s like. You’re allowed to be like that, I just hope that I can somehow make you feel better”

“I feel like the happiest person on the planet. I… was having a bad day, to them realize that my incredible man, spent the day making sure I had the best evening possible. Thank you, Buck,”

“Anytime sweetheart. I just hope you know that you are always safe with me, no matter how you feel”

Bucky really was a man unlike any other. He held you, made you feel happy, safe, and got you giggling like the morning had never existed. Bucky took away your fears, he mellowed the anxiety, and lifted that heavy feeling on your chest, he made you light again, he made all your pointless worries disappear because being in the right frame of mind, and having the right company can make all the bad disappear.

A/N: Again sorry for how bad this is, it just it’s been a really bad day for me. I just don’t even know what I was writing I just ughhhhh I wanna cry and cry and cry xoxo

#Bucky Barnes X Reader #Bucky Barnes One shot #Bucky Barnes Imagine #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier x reader #The Winter Soldier #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes Angst #Bucky Barnes Fluff #James Barnes #Bucky Barnes Drabble #MCU #marvel cinematic universe #marvel one shot #marvel fic #Bucky x Reader #The Avengers

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marveicinematics · 5 years ago

Text

text messages (bucky x reader, smut)

Summary : You can’t sleep, and you are positive Bucky he’s awake, too. After a few texts, he asks you to come in his bedroom, and you accept, not expecting any of the things that happened next.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x female reader.

Words : 2,193.

TW : Smut. Touching, unprotected sex, dirty talk.

Note : Based on prompts requested from my previous reblog. It’s mostly fluff, and also a bit sad, and also very smutty, so yeah.

(11) I didn’t know you were so sensitive.

(66) Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. thats cute.

(73) I’m not sure if its a sexual thing or not.

I’m open for request, just check the submit new stories button on my page. ♡

It had been weeks since the last time you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, scared from terrible images no one could ever imagine. You always said ‘it was just a nightmare’, it was your excuse for being up in the middle of the night, wandering in the corridors while everyone was supposedly sleeping. Yet, you knew it wasn’t just a nightmare. All these things you were seeing every time you closed your eyes came from memories you, unfortunately, never managed to get rid of.

But you weren’t the only one living through this ordeal in the building, and you knew it damn well. Reaching for your phone on your bed stand, you quickly ran through your contacts before finding Bucky’s name on your screen.

Are you sleeping?

It was always this simple. A text, and if both of you were awake, you’d just chat until one of you fell asleep again. Staring at your screen, it didn’t take him more than thirty seconds to text you back.

No.

A part of you was relieved to know he was up, too. To know that would get at least his messages to keep you company.

What are you doing?

He texted you, before you even had time to reply to his first message.

Well, it’s the middle of the night, it’s not like I had many options.

From the moment you started texting him, you let go of the nightmares, the flashes of terrible things you had experiences, the trauma of a hard life that you endured despite your young age. Your phone screen lighted up again, announcing Bucky’s new message.

I don’t know, what do you usually do?

You typed quickly, focusing all your attention on this conversation.

Wait for the sun to rise. Talk to you, if you’re up too.

It was true. Sometimes, you decided to walk inside the building, trying to find anything that would make you feel tired enough to get some rest. And you found your way back to your room, eyes still wide open and mind still fully aware of the actual nightmares you’d be experiencing if you dared to close your eyes.

Text, not talk.

He corrected you. You were typing your next message when you saw he was typing, too. You decided to let him finish first.

We would be talking if you only came to see me. But you never do. Why?

You fixed your screen with a look. Why? You didn’t happen to know the answer to that question. You never thought about, or more exactly, you did and never dared to act upon it.

Do you want me to come to your room?

You asked, not responding to his last question. You were expecting him to be mad about it, or to give you the same treatment, a new question to avoid giving you an answer. Most likely, he was going to say he didn’t want you in his room. Why the hell would he want you in his room? But your screen turned bright again.

Yes.

Never would you have imagined that answer, or even for Bucky Barnes to be that forthcoming. You hesitated, a few seconds, eyes still looking at that one word on your screen. Finally, you let your phone on your bed and stood up. You were wearing some silky pyjama pants and a white tank top, and decided it was alright to meet up with him, even if it wasn’t the best outfit you could have chose. After all, what else could you be wearing in the middle of the night? Knocking at his door, quietly enough to not wake up anybody else, Bucky opened the door faster than you would have thought, with a soft smile on his face.

« How did you know I was coming? » You asked, because you knew he mut have been waiting by the door to be this quick at opening it.

« I wasn’t sure. Just hoping. »

Hoping? Bucky Barnes was hoping you’d come. In his bedroom. In the middle of the night. Stepping inside the room as he closed the door behind you, you finally noticed that he was only wearing a pair of pyjama pants and no shirt. You froze for a second, before looking away.

« Do you want to talk about your nightmares? » He asked, walking past you to come sit on his bed.

« No. Do You? »

« Absolutely not. »

You both agreed on not talking about this. If you were here, it was to forget, only forget. Your eyes were staring into space, mind completely blown away by the fact that you were actually in his room, and now you had no idea what do to, or say, or even think. Bucky must have noticed how uncomfortable you were.

« Do I scare you? » He asked, and the sound of his voice was betraying how scared he was that you could actually be, indeed, scare of him.

« What? No. Don’t be silly, of course I’m not. »

You knew him. Despite all the stories, all the things he’d done in his past, you knew him. The real him. Bucky was sweet, and caring, and honest, and brave. You admired him, you always had, just quietly. Bucky smiled, and you wished he would smile like this every minute of his life. You wished you could stare at this smile every minute of yours.

« Good, I don’t want you to be scared. »

« I’m not, I promise. »

You smiled too, and somehow both of you just stayed there, looking at each other eyes for a minute, without a word. You didn’t mind the silence, when he was next to you. You didn’t really know what came over you, but before you realized what you were doing, you had your lips sealed to his, in a tender, quick peck. You blushed, looking away. It was exactly when you were about to stand up from the bed and storm out of his room, that you felt his hand on yours. He wasn’t going to let you go. His lips found their way to yours, again, and he deepened the kiss you had broke too early. One hand holding yours, he let the other one wonder against your blushing cheek, his thumb stroking it slowly. You had never imagined Bucky Barnes could be so gentle. But you loved it. You loved the way he touched your skin, and the feeling that went through your whole body, again and again, as long as his lips were on yours. He finally let you catch your breath.

« Do you plan on doing this again anytime soon? » You asked with a smile, and he let out a soft chuckle.

« Anytime you’d like. »

That was enough for you to kiss him again, a third, fourth, fifth time. Enough so that you forgot how long the hours were when you couldn’t find sleep. Laying on Bucky’s bed, his body on top of yours, he was still kissing you as if it was the most natural thing to do, and his hands slowly found their way under your tank top, against your skin, making you shiver against his fingers.

« I didn’t know you were so sensitive. » He whispered against your lips, and this soft grin was still spread on his face.

« Your hands are soft. And you’re good with them. »

He laughed as you smirked, kissing up his jaw. He seemed to like it, too. He let your lips kiss his skin multiple times, and nibble his ear, and you could feel how much he’d been holding back any physical reactions. The only thing that betrayed him was how he had tighten his hands against your skin.

« Do you like it, Buck? » You whispered, letting your teeth grazed his ear one more time.

« F- Yeah. Yes, I like it. »

He even tried to keep his voice as soft as usual. Playing hard to get, you thought. That’s cute. You kissed his jaw again, and his neck, before looking at his face. His cheek were red, and you didn’t know wether he was embarrassed or just horny.

« Are you okay? » You asked, making sure he was open to everything you’d done so far.

« Yes, it’s just… I just don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure it’s a sexual thing or not. »

You let out a laughter. How fucking cute.

« It is, Buck. »

« Alright. » He said, nodding. « It’s just been a while. »

« It’s okay, I don’t mind. »

You smiled at him again, running your hand through his hair to make him feel better.

« You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. » You finally said.

« But I do. I want to… »

« What do you want to do? »

He blushed, and you thought it was the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. Slowly rubbing your leg between his, you noticed his cheeks turned even more red, and your smile widen.

« I want to fuck you. Or make love to you. Or whatever you want, I just want to be inside you. »

Hearing Bucky talk to you this way, with his voice filled with lust was enough to aroused you.

« Yeah, do that. All of that, now. »

He grinned, taking your pants off before giving the same treatment to his. You took care of your top and your underwear, and soon enough both of you were entirely naked. You took a minute to look at Bucky’s naked body. He was the most astonishing man you’d ever seen in your life. Letting your hands caress his back, you gave him a nod to confirm you were ready, and slowly, he let himself enter you, sliding deeper and letting out a small moan. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you, before he started thrusting into you, hard but not fast. Every thrust was making you moan again, and he seemed to enjoy it. Your legs wrapped his hips, holding him closed to you as he was going deeper. You heard him hold back his moans and groans, before he wasn’t able to hold anything back anymore. His face buried in your neck, he started moaning your name and how good you made him feel. Your nails scratched his back and tightening against his hair.

« Fuck, you’re gonna.. I’m gonna cum already. » He moaned against your ear. « It’s okay, cum for me Buck. I want you to cum. »

He was enjoying your voice and the words you told him, and after a few more thrusts, he came deep inside you, a loud moan escaping his lips as his hands tighten against your hips. He took a minute to catch his breath before looking at you, and you smiled at him.

« Do you want to help me? » You said softly before biting down on your lower lip.

Bucky nodded, and you softly took his hand in yours before leading it right there, between your legs, right on your clit.

« Rub it, and tell me how much you enjoyed fucking me. »

You knew he’d get you off. You were more convinced than he was, from the look on his face, but still he started rubbing his fingers on your sensitive clit, making you already moan. You were aroused, dripping wet, waiting to reach your own orgasm, because seeing and feeling Bucky Barnes come inside you was, somehow, the hottest thing you’d ever experienced.

« It was so good, babygirl. » He said, and you moaned again, your face dissolving into an expression of pleasure that he seemed to enjoy.

His fingers went faster against you, and you spread your legs a little more, to give him more access.

« It was a fucking heaven being inside you. I had thought about this times and times, but I would have never imagined how amazing it would actually feel. »

The idea of Bucky thinking about how he’d feel to be inside you made your pussy clench, and you felt your orgasm build inside you.

« Keep going, it’s so good. » You moaned.

« You’re so pretty when you’re being pleasured, babygirl. And I want to hear you moan my name every night from now on. And I want to feel myself deep inside you every night. »

« Yes, Buck. Just like this. »

His grin widen and he kept going. Bucky was proud to make you moan and shiver like this.

« Cum for me, now. »

And you did, holding back a loud moan, and tightening your fingers against the bedsheets, as you reached your orgasm, letting your body arched against Bucky’s. You watched you in awe, mouth slightly open. He had never seen something this spectacular.

« God, you’re gorgeous. I’m gonna make you cum every night if that’s what it means. »

You let out a soft laughter, wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer to you in a hug you both well deserved.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #avengers #marvel #marvel imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #smut #smut prompts #bucky barnes smut #fanfiction #fanfic

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occasionalstorytelling · 4 years ago

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Summary: A rewrite of the beginning of Age of Ultron. The Avengers were busting Hydra bases looking for Loki's scepter, but they found Bucky first and he joined the team. When they go up against Wanda and Pietro in the castle, Wanda traps everyone (except for Barton) in a shared dream. Bucky, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Tony, and Thor fight their way through everyone's imagined dreams, one at a time, working together to get out and back to reality. It isn't a problem until they get trapped in Bucky's dream. Everyone worried it might be a nightmare, a memory left over from his time with Hydra...instead, it's something very different, and much more pleasant.

Word count: 2697

Read it here:

The world faded away. Greys and blacks and blood-streaked rocks disappeared from existence, replaced by oranges and yellows and a sleek ballroom floor.

“Is everyone okay?” Tony was practically vibrating with anxious tension.

“All good here,” Steve said. “Stark, do you want to talk about any of that, or—”

“Nope,” Tony shook his head. “You’re alive, I’m alive, we’re all alive, let’s just move on.”

“Barton’s still not with us,” Natasha said. “He must be on the outside.”

“He must find the witch before we endure any more of this,” Thor grumbled.

“Said the person who got to have a party,” Bucky poked him in the arm. “Some of us have actual trauma to work through, buddy. Speaking of which, how come I wasn’t in Tony’s nightmare?”

“Because you being dead would be a relief,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Wow.” Bucky pressed a fist over his heart and feigned sadness. “That hurts, Tony.”

“All that matters is that we need to figure out who’s dream we’re in now,” Bruce said. “Anyone recognize this?”

“It’s mine,” Steve said. Everyone looked around. It was a beautiful 1940s ballroom, decorated for a party. There was a crowd in the center of the dance floor, and their conversations and laughing were barely audible over the strains of music that lilted through the air.

“Ha!” Thor laughed. “I am not the only Avenger who dreamed up a party.”

“I can take care of this,” Steve said. “We’ll be out of here in just a second.” He stepped forwards, toward the crowd. As he moved, they began to part in front of him, revealing Peggy Carter standing alone in the center.

“Steve.” She smiled. “Is it finally time for our dance?”

“Hi, Peggy,” Steve sighed. He took her hand. “You’re not real. This isn’t real.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Peggy said, brushing a lock of hair away from his face.

“I do,” Steve said. “Even if it was real, even if it was possible, I know what I gave up when I went into the ice. I’d make that choice over and over again if I had to. And I’m happy in the future, and I’m happy with my friends.”

“You know, some of us just call it ‘the present,” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “If it were really the future, I’d have the flying car your dad promised me.”

“I hate you,” Tony said. Bucky stuck out his tongue in response.

“Quiet, boys,” Natasha said. “Let Steve finish up.”

“Goodbye, Peggy,” Steve said.

“Bye, Steve,” Peggy blinked away a tear, and the crowd closed back up behind her. Steve returned to the group.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“I gave up Peggy 70 years ago,” Steve shrugged. “It hurts to see her, but not enough to make me want to stay.”

“Then I guess we’re on to the next dream,” Bruce said.

“No way,” Bucky said. “We’re done. We did Thor’s party, Natasha’s Red Room, your ‘everything is exactly the same but I’m tall’ dream, Tony’s nightmare, and Steve’s dance partner. That’s everyone.”

“What about you, Buck?” Steve asked.

“Pssh,” Bucky scoffed. “I don’t have dreams.”

The world blinked around them. It was like experiencing a computer glitch from the inside. The ballroom floor shifted beneath them, then reformed as if nothing had happened. They stumbled slightly, but when they looked up, everything seemed exactly the same.

“Huh,” Steve said. “Okay, I was pretty sure I’d worked through it, but I’ll give it another go, I guess.”

“Colors changed,” Tony gestured with a thumb.

“He’s right,” Natasha frowned. “Steve, your ballroom was yellow and orange. Why did it turn green?”

“Shit,” Bucky whispered. “Shit shit shit shit—”

“So much for ‘I don’t have dreams,” Bruce crossed his arms.

“We need to get out of here,” Bucky went pale. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fists against his forehead. “It’s not real, it’s not real, wake up wake up wake up—”

“Whatever it is, we can handle it together,” Steve said. He put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, but Bucky flinched away like he’d been burned. Steve took a step back, worried. “Buck, are you okay?”

“Is it a Winter Soldier dream?” Natasha asked. “Can’t be much worse than the Red Room, and we’ve been there, so…”

“It’s not Hydra,” Bucky shook his head.

“Then what is it?” Thor asked.

There was a stirring in the crowd, like someone was pushing their way through, trying to get out.

“Can everybody just close their eyes?” Bucky said. “Nobody wants to see this.”

“Everybody saw my nightmare,” Tony shrugged. “You can bet your 1940s britches I’m looking at yours.”

“We’re all here for you, Buck,” Steve said. “Whatever it is—”

A little blonde head poked out of the crowd. Two skinny arms shoved their way through, pushing the last few people out of the way. It was a young man in a US military uniform. The guy looked up, saw Bucky, and his face lit up with happiness. “Bucky!” waved the tiny, pre-serum Steve Rogers. “Bucky! Buck!”

“Oh. My god,” Tony’s jaw dropped.

“Wake up wake up wake UP,” Bucky pounded on his forehead with his fists. “This isn’t happening. It’s not real.”

“Is that…Steve?” Natasha stifled a giggle.

“He’s short,” Thor frowned. “And tiny. Tinier than usual, I mean. All mortals are tiny.”

“Bucky!” Imaginary Steve ran across the ballroom, pushed Tony out of the way, and grabbed Bucky’s metal hand. “Come on, you’re missing all the fun. You love this song!”

“No, no…” Bucky stared in horror as the metal plates began to peel away from his skin. From his skin. There was skin underneath. Imaginary Steve ran his hand up the metal arm and it turned real. Bucky’s costume shimmered, turning into a military uniform to match Steve’s.

“Come on,” imaginary Steve laughed, and pulled Bucky, stumbling, away from the other Avengers, towards the laughing, dancing crowd.

“Bucky, stop!” Real Steve called out, but Bucky didn’t hear. He stared at imaginary Steve. Bucky looked like he’d follow him to the ends of the earth.

“Well, we’re doomed,” Tony sighed. “Who’s going to talk the world’s deadliest assassin down from this one?”

They all watched Bucky take imaginary Steve’s hand and lead him in looping, gentle circles around the ballroom floor. Imaginary Steve leaned his head against Bucky’s chest and sighed happily.

“I do not understand,” Thor frowned. “Stark had an imaginary Steve. Why is this one created by the Bucky any different?”

“You really used to look like that, Steve?” Bruce asked. “I saw some files back when I was working on making a new serum, but that’s—"

“I don’t think I ever had that kind of rosy glow in my cheeks,” Steve said, still staring at imaginary Steve, and the way he held Bucky. “And I was neverthat good at dancing.”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Natasha said. “He talked me through the Red Room, I’ll talk him through, uh, this.” She left the Avengers standing in an awkward half-circle and walked up to where Bucky and imaginary Steve danced together.

“Hi there,” Natasha tapped imaginary Steve on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”

Imaginary Steve laughed. “Find your own soldier boy to moon over. This one’s taken.”

“Nat,” Bucky smiled at her sheepishly. “Forgot you guys were still here.”

“Yep. Everyone’s back there,” Natasha tilted her head at the group. “How’s it going?”

“Badly,” Bucky winced. “I can’t—”

“Aw, no, Buck, really?” Imaginary Steve cupped Bucky’s face in both hands. “Just look at me, Buck. It’s just you and me.”

“Quite the fantasy,” Natasha crossed her arms.

“I haven’t thought about it in years,” Bucky said. “After Steve turned into Captain America, it just seemed…impossible.”

“I like the new arm, too,” Natasha said.

“I…” Bucky faltered.

The music changed. “Ooh!” Imaginary Steve squealed. “A slow dance. Buck…hold me close?” He pressed himself up against Bucky’s chest like a starfish, stuck fast.

“Did Steve really act like this?” Natasha asked.

“No,” Bucky sighed, but he held imaginary Steve protectively in his arms. “Especially after the war started, he was always focused on what he could to do help. He wasn’t really into the expo or anything, but he’d come along if I asked him to.”

“I’d go anywhere for you,” imaginary Steve breathed against Bucky’s neck, and Bucky shivered.

“Come on, Bucky,” Natasha put her hand on imaginary Steve’s shoulder. “We need to get back out there. Clint’s alone, fighting a witch and a speedster while we’re all trapped in this shared dream. You need to work through this so we can all get out.”

“I love you,” imaginary Steve kissed Bucky’s left hand.

“I felt that,” Bucky stared down at the spot. “I can feel it. It’s real, it has to be…”

“Bucky,” Natasha started, but imaginary Steve whirled on her angrily.

“Go away!” Imaginary Steve held up two fists on skinny, skinny arms. If not for the military uniform, he’d look like a twig about to snap in two. “Get away from him!”

“Okay, you need snap out of it, pal,” Natasha gently moved imaginary Steve out of the way.

“Owww,” imaginary Steve moaned and collapsed to the ground.

“Steve!” Bucky knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”

“I can do this all day,” imaginary Steve smiled weakly up at Bucky as a purple bruise flowered over his cheek. His lip split and started bleeding.

“I barely touched him,” Natasha blinked.

“Stevie…always getting into fights you can’t handle,” Bucky shook his head, staring down into Steve’s eyes.

“That’s why I have you to save me,” imaginary Steve coughed, and reached up a trembling hand to push Bucky’s hair out of his eyes.

“Bucky, you can’t possibly be falling for that act,” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You hurt him,” Bucky looked up at her with one of the scariest looks she’d ever seen on him. The Winter Soldier was cold and emotionless—if he attacked you, it wasn’t personal. From the look in Bucky’s eye, this was personal.

“Bucky, he’s not real,” Natasha said, softly.

“You’ll protect me, won’t you, Buck?” Imaginary Steve clung to Bucky’s shoulder.

“You hurt him,” Bucky repeated dully, scowling at Natasha.

“He’s not real,” Natasha said. “You have to snap out of it—”

In one fluid motion, Bucky stood, and delivered a powerful uppercut to the underside of her jaw. It might have looked like skin, but it still felt like metal when it hit. Natasha staggered back and braced herself for a fight, but Bucky had already turned back to Steve, forgetting her entirely.

“My hero!” imaginary Steve giggled. The bruise and the injuries had disappeared, like they were never there. He took Bucky’s collar in both hands and pulled him down into a messy kiss. Bucky closed his eyes and leaned into it, kissing back.

Natasha returned to the Avengers.

“That went well,” Tony raised an eyebrow.

“He won’t listen to me,” Natasha sighed. “This fantasy really has a hold on him.”

“I wonder if the enhanced woman accidentally tapped into the remnants of his Winter Soldier programming,” Bruce frowned. “That might explain why Bucky’s having such a hard time breaking free. Steve, do you want to try talking to him? Steve?”

Everyone looked at real Steve, who was mesmerized, watching Bucky kiss imaginary Steve. Bucky swooped imaginary Steve into a dip. They kissed and it looked like a 40s photograph made real life.

“Steve?” Bruce asked.

“Sorry,” Steve blinked. “What were we talking about?”

“Surely, the Bucky remembers this is only a figment of his imagination,” Thor said. “Even Tony only needed the merest of hints to understand that his recreations of us were not real.”

“Who knows what goes on in that cyborg brain,” Tony grumbled. “Wait, I guess we do, because we’re watching it, and it’s gross.”

“Don’t be homophobic,” Natasha elbowed Tony in the stomach.

“I’m not being homophobic, I’m being the same kind of assassin-who-killed-my-parents-phobic I always am,” Tony grumbled.

“Steve, are you okay with trying to talk to him?” Bruce asked. “You might stand a chance at reminding him the difference between imagination and reality.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” Steve said numbly. He walked forward into the crowd. He’d done this just minutes ago, when he knew Peggy was waiting for him on the other side. Bucky had watched that, and hadn’t even said anything, even when Bucky’s own fantasy was almost the exact same thing, only Peggy wasn’t around, and neither were their parents to tell them they were spending too much time together and they needed to get girlfriends, and neither was that guy Bucky beat up in an alley for calling Steve a fag…

Steve broke through the crowd and got a clear glimpse of Bucky again, still holding imaginary Steve like nothing else mattered to him.

“Buck,” real Steve whispered.

“Buck,” imaginary Steve whispered it close into Bucky’s ear. “I’m never going to leave you behind.”

“I didn’t mean to,” real Steve winced. “If I’d known you’d survived the fall from the train…”

Bucky looked up then and saw real Steve. “Steve,” Bucky flushed bright red and dropped imaginary Steve, taking a few hasty steps away from him. “I…this isn’t what it looks like?”

Imaginary Steve wrapped his hands around Bucky’s no-longer-metal arm and stuck out his tongue at real Steve. “You don’t need all those muscles. I’m good enough for him without them.”

“I…didn’t know?” real Steve tried. “That you—”

“How could you not have known,” Bucky glared at real Steve.

“You were always going out with girls,” real Steve said.

“And I always took you along and said it was a double date,” Bucky said. “I never once left you behind. I didn’t want you to be lonely…I didn’t want to be lonely without you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” imaginary Steve cuddled close against Bucky and nuzzled against his shoulder. “All you have to do is stay. There’s no Hydra here. There’s no Winter Soldier here. There’s no Avengers that lie about not hating you. It’s just you and me.”

“The Avengers don’t hate you,” real Steve said, desperate.

“I love you,” imaginary Steve said, but Bucky wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at real Steve.

“Wake up,” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. “Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake UP!” The world shifted, and crumbled into pieces around them. The dream dissolved, and the Avengers woke up.

“Barton! We’re out,” Natasha barked into the comms. “Where are you?”

“20 degrees north of you, in the forest,” came Clint’s gasped response. “I could use some help!”

“On my way,” Natasha said, and she bolted out of the room.

“Okay, uh, bye,” Tony summoned his armor pieces and flew out of the room, followed closely by Thor and Bruce on foot.

“Bucky,” Steve started, but Bucky cut him off.

“After the mission,” Bucky said bitterly. “If we need to talk about it. Which we don’t.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Steve said.

“You know how I woke myself up? I remembered that it was an impossible dream, that I wanted something I could never have,” Bucky spat. “Let’s just go back to the mission and forget about it, okay?”

“I don’t want to forget about it,” Steve said quietly.

“Well I do,” Bucky glared. He turned, flexed his metal arm, and followed the Avengers out of the castle and into the forest, leaving Steve alone.

“But…” Steve felt horrible. He remembered those years. He’d spent so much time trying to distance himself from Bucky, once he’d realized he might not be entirely straight. Bucky didn’t need that in his life holding him back, and Steve didn’t need to add another disability to the reasons he couldn’t enlist. Not that being gay was classified as a disability in the future, Steve reminded himself.

He hoped he hadn’t messed everything up. He hadn’t been lying when he said he was over Peggy… But it would be a hell of a lot longer before he could get over Bucky. He raised his shield and followed the team out into the woods.

#my AO3 #my ao3 account #AO3 fanfic #captain america #james bucky barnes #stucky #age of ultron

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og-danny-dorito · 5 years ago

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Bucky Barnes SFW Headcanons

a new hyperfixation to avoid my growing anxiety with my personal life? yall already know whats up, and i'm feeling angsty so brace yourself

PUBLISHED : 2 - 17 - 20

S F W :

- to start off of a positive and happy note (jk you already know thats not how it works) its very likely that upon first meeting, any touch directed towards him is met with an alarmed grunt and/or a slap of your hand away

- anything unsolicited makes him nervous and uncomfortable, so if you really do want to pat his shoulder or hug him or something like that you'd have to ask if it's okay first. now it's pretty easy to see the reasoning behind this but for those doubting it i will explain

- big man has been trained to kill in hand to hand combat and advanced weaponry and countless other things, meaning that he's pretty much wired by this point to have a gut reaction that automatically goes to the fight or flight instinct. it doesn't make logical sense that he wouldn't get uncomfortable and jumpy at loud noises and unsolicited touching since his ptsd has accumulated over the years to MAKE him react like that. he doesn't want to accidentally punch you in the teeth

- like yeah he's all tough and shit and could break the a dude’s neck if he really tried, but the issue is that once his walls are broken down he's sort of akin to that of a regulated killing machine having to redo its wiring to be “normal” again. the transition itself would be traumatic, but the process of initiating it would be even more difficult

- so that means that in the first few months of his recovery, he probably would do a lot of absent-minded staring and just long spells of silence where he just doesn't do anything. it's sort of like a reloading point for his brain, and he starts to pick up the habit of daydreaming a lot. sometimes you'll have to say his name a few times to snap him out of it, but when he does come to he looks a little embarrassed

- it's not that easy to elicit an emotional reaction out of him. you'd have to be fairly close with him to actually get most responses out of him that are more than a word long, and so thus starts my favorite trope; hard depressed kill man falls for person who just Keeps Trying

- it's not that easy to get under his skin, but meeting him somewhere normally and constantly talking to him will probably start to make him feel more encouraged to speak in the sense of making normal conversation

- he's a little awkward so in this case patience goes a long way (as does with pretty much everything with him). it gets to the point where after a month or so he may feel weird if he doesn't talk to you at that specific time of the day. if he's grown that fond of you he'll even go out of his way to ask a few people where you are

- part of him hates getting this attached for a number of reasons. there's that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that his environment is temporary and getting attached to the things and people there will hurt him more than he'd like. while he knows that it's not temporary, that he's not leaving anytime soon and probably won't for a while, it all goes back to the killing machine thing

- when he was under hydra’s control, the only thing that was certain was the base he resided in and it's hard to come out of a state of mind where the only thing you know to be continuous is your continued existence as a tool. the place itself brings back horrible memories, but you get what i mean

- so initially he may resist conversation for that very reason

- he tends to pick up on details more than anything, and most of your smaller traits tend to make him quickly used to you. like for instance, if you're prone to pursuing your lips and narrowing your eyes at something odd you've heard or seen, he might find it cute mentally and then immediately correct himself for it. if you tend to snort a little and roll your eyes when you laugh, he's going to notice that and MAYBE try to pay more attention when something funny is said to hear it again

- i would generally think that he doesn't really have much a type or preference at all. in fact, i'm pretty sure the only thing he seemed consciously aware of that he likes in a partner is ability to understand. cause if you can't forgive him for the things he's done and see why he does what he does now, he can't bring himself to feel like he needs to go through all of his self hatred and doubt more intensely than he already is

- he probably is asexual as well but that's sort of iffy considering he's canon been in sexual relationships so that's a maybe. but he's definitely demiromantic. it's not that easy for him to find people attractive anymore. when he starts to get to know you better he starts feeling some sort of way and picking up on MORE details that you may not even notice yourself

- bucky is also incredibly skilled at remembering things you might've said a month ago and completely forgot about. some find this off putting and that's understandable, but when it comes down to it, its a product of sorta okay memory

- “My cousin almost flipped his car over this week.”

- “Phillipe?”

- “Uh, yeah. How did you...?”

- “You mentioned him two weeks ago... when he almost fell of your roof the week before.”

- “I did?”

- remembers dates, names, eye colors, and a multitude of other things, so sometimes he'll just mention something important you may have forgotten and pretend like he definitely wasn't paying too much attention to you. it's surprising how good his memory is even though he can't remember any of his past. so this most likely means that he has issues with remembering events and how they happened, but not the details of them. like how you can remember your shirt color a few week s back but not what you did while wearing that shirt

- and on that note, he kinda shuts down if he gets a weird flashback in the middle of something. they're mostly triggered by smells and sounds, but sometimes if he sees something while he's walking down the street he'll just stop and stare at it. it's best just to stop and stare at it with him, or alternatively if you don't want stares, act like you're taking a picture. but don't talk to him while it's happening cause it'll interrupt the train of thought and derail him completely

- he tends to talk a lot about things if he's grown very invested in them (he's very good at keeping focus). if you're out walking together or just sitting down he might stare and absentmindedly reach out to touch you before stopping himself at the last minute. gently grabbing his hand and placing it wherever he wanted to touch makes him flustered every time. that and hes super soft but is afraid to be vulnerable around anyone

- just gently grabbing his hand makes him all mushy, and it’s more often than not that he finds himself weak when someone shows pretty much any form of affection or endearment towards him

- probably not into pda though, not that much. he will hold your hand if you want to, but don’t expect to like sit in his lap or like straight upstart kissing in public cause any attention in a public setting makes him nervous

- really likes a kind of homey s/o. someone who likes to cook or bake or whatever makes him feel a little bit like he doesn't have to worry about something for a while. like if he comes home and dinner is just waiting on the table for him or you’ve already drawn a bath for him and/or made the bed or whatever, he literally appreciates that above pretty much anything else

- love language is most likely acts of service. hes not very good with words unless he like thinks it out beforehand, but pretty much buys you gifts all the time because he likes seeing you light up when you see them. he does try to spend as much time as he can with you but either anxiety gets the best of him or hes literally too busy, and so it ends up being more distant with him coming over a few times during the week, even if you live together. and we already know the deal with physical touch so im not gonna restate my strong belief in “big man has trauma no touch big man unless A S K”

- but a lot of the things he does are situational. one day he may be very down to be super affectionate and the other he’ll be painfully distant, but the main issue with all of it is that hes very very bad at communication

- this poses an issue for a number of reasons, but his responses and reactions are more physical than anything. so for instance, if hes uncomfortable with something he’ll start to shift and stare and be very tense the whole time it’s occurring, or if he’s feeling a bit more sad or depressed he’ll isolate himself and consistently stand slouched or look as if he hasn't gotten enough sleep. it’s mostly body language, but after a while he’ll feel safe enough to tell you how he feels about certain things

- this takes a while to actually happen, but when it does he manages to just,,, say things that are on his mind. like you’ll be reading or scrolling through your phone or whatever and he’ll randomly be like “The table has a lot of scratches on it.” it’s just observations he has, but usually it translates to him wanting to change the stated fact. best thing to do is just to roll with it, since hes practically learning how to communicate again and he’s picking up on things socially

- now let's get to the “a little fluffy” and “kinda-already-known” shit, shall we?

- miscellaneous headcanons;

gets jealous pretty easily in the early stages of your relationship, but only ever indicates this by staring the person in question down and refusing to admit to it later

likes having his hair put up into cool hairstyles and likes colored rubber bands (or hair ties if youre not where i'm from). seriously, he may loose his shit if you just like put cool braids in his hair one day like hes a viking or whatever

kind of tone deaf but his singing is more of like this raspy and slightly more “Misty Mountains” vocals sounding

is touch sensitive, so even doing something as small as like rubbing your thumb on his arm makes his hair raise on end

doesn't like his metal arm at all and quite obviously wears long sleeves all the time to hide it, but occasionally wears short sleeves when he's feeling less insecure

oh, super insecure btw and THATS why he feels all mushy when someone is kind to him because he KNOWS he's a freak and that he's weird but you're not still being sweet??? too pure, must protect

gives great hugs since he practically smothers anyone he meets with them, but is also basically a walking heater

is terrified of the idea of taking care of children or just anything weaker than him, but is good with them since they always hang on his arms and hold his legs when he walks

super strong

likes sweets a whole lot, specifically fruity sweets like apple pie or peach cobbler. never bring those wallmart cakes or whatever near him cause it'll be gone in like an hour flat unless you tell him to leave you some

- in conclusion, he needs therapy and probably won't be very responsive when he's not sure what to do. it doesn't mean he loves you any less, but he may have a hard time communicating it to you. all he really needs is some patience and a bit of understanding, and he'll get better with the whole s/o thing soon enough. cause you mean the world to him, and he doesn't want anyone or anything to make you feel like less than that

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smileytiger28 · 4 years ago

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memory loss ficlist

sup i have loved memory loss stories since i was a wee child and now that ao3 exists i can just read them all day instead of doing work anyway here’s some of my favorites (list definitely subject to change)

s*pernatural

no place to go (4685 words) by peterspajamas

Summary:

It's Tuesday. Again.

Sam watches his world fall apart, into a pattern that only Castiel can break. But Castiel doesn't remember.

Sam prays for help after his brother is stuck in a time loop after Jack becomes God. There are two important things about the angel that arrives to help them: 1. It's Castiel 2. He doesn't remember a thing

my thots

mostly a tuesday time-loop type fic (sam!), but there is definitely some memory loss going on (cas!)

Gone (51108 words) by reading (reposted from ff.net)

Summary:

Dean thinks Sam is dead. Sam has amnesia.

So, this is set pre-deal, sometime in season 2. Strangers and Angels 'verse.

my notes

this fic is legendary. so good in every way. hurt-comfort, memory loss (sam!), angst both before and after memories are regained...hits all my buttons.

When Memory Fails (3646 words) by palpablenotion

Summary:

He's in a hotel room with fake IDs, fake (or stolen) credit cards, guns and knives, lighter fluid and a lighter that's been in a fire hot enough to scorch metal, and he doesn't know who he is.

my thoughts

actually found this fic when looking for some other fics for this list...turned out really good. dean's memory gets roblox oofed and the situation gets cleaned up in a short, sweet, and funny way.

Yellow highway lines (28292 words) by livinginthequestion

Summary:

Weeks had gone by since Michael reneged on his pledge and took possession of Dean permanently; since he’d begun waging his war against humanity and the earth, killing without remorse or restriction; since Dean had, through sheer strength of will, slammed the door on the archangel in his mind. He was still holding that door shut, but growing ever more desperate, to the point that he seriously considered the Ma’lak Box as the only solution available to him.

What if Cas did some research - and came up with an alternative to the Ma’lak Box, a ritual to eject Michael from Dean’s mind? Spellwork so powerful it ripped the archangel loose with the force of a heavenly cataclysm, destroying him in the process - and leaving behind terrible consequences for Dean?

Follow Cas and Sam's desperate cross-country search for Dean, and Dean's journey to find himself, his memories - and maybe find out what he really wants.

my thoughts

goodness me is this one really good. it kinda parallels Gone in that whole "winchester brother makes new life using his skills without his memory" vibe but this plays out a bit differently. this fic. i just want to bathe in it like a jacuzzi.

mcu

How Could I Forget You? (3013 words) by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary:

Tony knows that this kid is important somehow, knows deep in his heart that the kid is special. He just can’t remember who he is.

my thoughts

tony loses his memory from some good ol' head trauma. irondad and spiderson angst ensues. memory is not restored by the end (but it is implied that tony's memory will return a few days after the fic is set.)

Take Control (13966 words) by theunremarkable

Summary:

You are No One

I am Bucky. I know this You are Bucky He knows this

But Bucky does not know, that it has been a year. He does not know that it has been a year of the same conversation. He does not know that it has been a year of the same tears from Peggy. He does not know that when he sleeps, he forgets. Bucky does not know that when he wakes, he will again be No One.

my thoughts

one of those great fics that toes the line between poetry and prose. also a songfic ("take control" by kodaline), and the song is really darn good. keep in mind this is part 2 of a series that canon diverges so the timeline is a bit wonky.

Act of Sage (64315 words) by hotelmichelle

Summary:

After the Battle of New York, Steve finds a strange note in his apartment. It’s his handwriting, but he sure as hell would’ve remembered writing this.

my thoughts

this post-endgame-2012-timeline stucky fix-it is a textbook example of what happens when a fic starts out not as strong, but finds its voice and approaches its issues uniquely. the beginning isn't really my taste buuuuut at a certain point the fic definitely takes its own unique spin on things. and it's. so good. there's an oc who's a trauma therapist who works with an amnesiac/traumatized bucky barnes. she's just. the greatest, most intelligent, awesomest, most badass human being. also there's a lot of law terminology for bucky's legal trial. (i think the author was in law school while writing this?)

trials and tribulations of the universes saviour (34287 words) by imeanthatsprettysnazzy

Summary:

The thoughts kept racing through his head, them helping block out the continued, strangled begging coming from Mister Stark, along with the pain, as he stared Thanos right in the eyes.

“And I..” He spoke loudly, though he could still barely hear himself. “Don’t... Care...”

Peter brought his fingers together, and snapped.

An alternate version of Endgame where Peter snaps (but survives).

This is a continuation of The Brother She Wished That She Knew, but it can be read alone if you want :)

(Used to be called When Fate Turns In A Different Direction but that was even cornier than this so I changed it)

my thoughts

the memory loss is like 1 chapter of this but it's really well-executed (and also i'm trying to list as many mcu fics as spn fics and it's surprisingly hard. MUST I REITERATE I HAVENT WATCHED 1 EP OF SPN jaklsdfjflk). what it says on the tin, also part of a series featuring a lot of peter's mom may parker. humor, angst, whump, a badass prosthesis and an awesome found family — this fic has everything you could ever want and more.

Bonus non-MCU marvel fic: If It Comes Back (10823 words) by flightinflame

Summary:

Logan turns his back on the school, setting out as a lone wolf. Until he meets a young man in need of help - a young man who looks painfully familiar.

my thoughts

if you want to leave the "mystery person" a surprise you should probably skip the tags (and the rest of this summary.) basically it's post x3, logan is sad, and picks up a mystery hitchhiker. it's the first (and as of now, only) scogan fic i've ever read and definitely a great introduction to the ship. also Person X and logan both get a liberal dollop of angst (hooray!)

#memory loss tw #tw memory loss #amnesia tw #tw amnesia #tiger roars 🐯

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buckyreaderrecs · 5 years ago

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Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power: Chapter 3/?

Summary: Nobody knows about your power. You’ve never really wanted to use it, let alone hurt someone with it. But, someone has figured you out, and now they’re following you. There’s only one place you can go for help - The Avengers. Good news is they’re good people. Bad news is your power is entirely relevant to soft, sad, recovering, broody Bucky Barnes. Chapter 1. Chapter 2.

Chapter 3: A decision is made. A plan is formed. Bucky has a request.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, possible future smut (who knows, not me), mutual pining, reader has powers, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters

Bucky Barnes and the Girl With Too Much Power Chapter 3/?

From the Potomac River to Romania, Bucky had simply tried to exist. Be the market customer, the guy on the bus, the man walking by that nobody remembered. Just… exist. But, since Shuri pulling trigger words from his brain and Wakandan doctors doing their best to undo the years of damage to his body, Bucky had felt like he was existing to make up for his life before.

Every day was an act of redemption. Each thing he did, a beg for forgiveness. And it was easy for him to live like that, despite Steve telling him he didn't owe the world anything and Sam's honest trauma counselling lines over pizza, and even The Avengers' ultimate adoption of him, Bucky still felt indebted and it was simply the easiest way to live.

Standing in the middle of your limbo, Bucky could feel the way you were pressed into him, leaning all your weight onto him. It was how Steve used to hug him before the war broke out, like if Bucky moved, Steve's entire centre of gravity would be ripped out from under him. Steve relied on Bucky back then. It was what you were doing now. He wasn't indebted to you.

What did that mean? How was he meant to act around you? Talk to you?

Bucky didn't move first, he gave you all the time in the world. Eventually, you slowly uncurled yourself and let Bucky have his arms back. Your eyelashes were clumped together with tears. Suddenly self-conscious, you took a step back and wiped the tears and snot away with the sleeve of your shirt. Sniffling, you looked around a little hopelessly.

"Uh… Did ya need anythin'? I know a cup of tea helps Wanda when she's upset… or Peanut Butter Cups put Steve in a good mood. Must be a psychological thing, 'cause of the syrum..." He was rambling just a bit, but it was sweet. It was also an insight. You wondered if he ever made Wanda's tea, or if he just watched and noticed things.

"I… um… I… don't know," you replied honestly.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah… Alright… I, uh, just came to see if you were okay… as you can be. Only thing that's gonna make you feel much better is knowing what's going on, yeah?"

"Yep," you answered quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself.

With another nod and a gentle squeeze of your arm, Bucky vacated the room. The door was left unlocked.

…

The bed beneath you was getting more and more comfortable the longer you waited for Wanda, Bucky, or someone else to deliver your fate. If you forced your heavy eyelids to remain open, the room wouldn't stay still. Any chance of coherent thinking was lost hours ago. You'd not slept in over thirty hours, and your body was damn well aware of that.

Of the places you could be, Stark Tower was certainly one of the safest. Regardless, you felt hyper-aware of potential threats, entirely scared at the prospect of being kicked out onto the street with no help, and constantly watched by the security camera in the corner of the room.

Biology is a bitch. Despite desperately trying to remain awake and alert, you passed out before The Avengers had even come to a conclusion about you. When they finally did, Tony asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to bring up the feed to your room.

"Which one of you wants'ta wake up Sleeping Beauty?" he asked, feeling a little sorry for you.

"Let her sleep," Steve replied, glancing over at Bucky. "We'll sort it out in the morning. She needs sleep and something to eat before she'll be able to tell us anything,"

"Anything else," Wanda clarified. "She told us plenty."

Everyone agreed, then headed to their separate spaces in the Tower. Steve and Bucky were last out, both watching over your sleeping image on the screen.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., let me… us… know when she wakes up," Steve requested, then slung an arm around his oldest friend and steered him from the room. "You wanna talk about it?"

…

The blinds started to rise, letting in the New York morning light. It burned your eyes at first, but quickly the breathtaking view distracted you from the abrupt awakening. You walked to the windows and looked out over the city. Of the millions of people living down there, what made you special enough to be on someone's watch list? A sharp reminder-

"Wakey, wakey!" Tony called as he entered the room with a knock or pause.

Instinctively, you swung around and yelled, "Stop!"

He froze. Entirely. It was lucky that the life-supporting bodily functions were automatic and unconscious; your power didn't control those. You could keep Tony still and he wouldn't stop breathing. Unless you wanted him to.

Almost as still as Tony, you looked at him in shock. He'd startled you into a reaction, but now you were too scared of his to let him unfreeze.

Before you had to though, the gentle but firm voice of Captain America could be heard from the hallway behind Tony. "Y/N?" he called softly. "I'm coming in." He appeared, dressed in casual jeans and a black t-shirt. He had his hands out, like you were a cornered animal he wanted to subdue. Walking passed Tony, Steve kept his eyes on you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered out, another relatively instinctual response.

Steve nodded. "I know. He knows too. Wanna let him go?"

"You can move," you directed at Tony.

Tony's body relaxed and he dramatically shook himself out. You expected hell, but instead Tony looked over you with some suspicion, but more interest. Then to Steve, "Thanks, Cap,"

"Thought we agreed-"

"I know, I know. You're little sad squad would come get her. I was just in the neighbourhood, thought I'd drop by, you know."

Yeah, he knew. Steve was well and truly acquainted with Tony Stark's unpredictable behaviour. He just stared at Tony until he got the hint.

"Right. Well then," Tony said, stepping backwards toward the open door. "Guess I'll see you later. Good chat, Y/N. Nice playin' with you." Both you and Steve watched him walk out the door, then jump in surprise. "Christ, Barnes!" He looked back at Steve, pointing to, you presumed, Bucky standing outside in the hall. "Why's he gotta creep around like this?" He shook his head at Bucky, then walked away.

Bucky stepped out of hiding and into the doorway.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. let us know you woke," Steve said to you, turning his attention from Bucky to where you were still standing in front of the window. Wanda had explained Stark Tower's AI system. If you needed anything, ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. It was a little unnerving to think about, so you hadn't.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, moving as slowly as Steve had, but without the hesitation. He came to a stop in front of you, watching as you nodded. "Don't worry 'bout Stark… He's… I don't know… him, but he's alright. Forgiving, at the least," he told you.

Everybody knew The Winter Soldier had killed a lot of people. Everybody knew who many of those people were.

"I'm okay," you said, sensing neither Steve nor Bucky were going to move unless you gave them something.

"Did you get some sleep?" Steve asked. It seemed genuine.

"Yeah, a little,"

"Good, that's good. Let's go get some breakfast. We can talk, if you want to," he offered. His body language had softened considerably, probably from the point of you letting Tony go. He was still being cautious though. While you figured it was because Steve was wary of you, he and Bucky knew it was because he was not used to how Bucky was behaving. He had declined Steve's invitation to talk about it, about you, the previous night.

…

The kitchen wasn't really a kitchen. Serving the joining conference rooms and corporate spaces, the kitchenette mostly saw coffee and ordered-in baked goods. Somebody though, had the good thought to go one step further this morning.

Wanda was unpacking takeaway containers of real-deal cooked breakfast food. She looked entirely domestic, like if you didn't know she was the Scarlet Witch, you'd think she was simply a beautiful woman, and in this case, one gong out of her way to make you feel safe.

"I think this was Pepper," she said in lieu of a good morning.

Steve had entered the room first, you tailing him obediently. He motioned at a bar stool, inviting you to sit.

Why you did it, you weren't sure, but you turned to glance to Bucky behind you. "Sit," he nudged gently, taking up the stood next to yours.

A plate was put in front of you. Steve and Wanda began to chat, unguarded and natural - which you took as a good sign. They both ate, as did Bucky but he stayed as quiet as you. It was more hospitality than you'd expected, and you didn't want to be rude or ungrateful. However, the nerves and fear coursing through you stopped any chance of being hungry. Bucky subtly watched you push food around on the plate.

"Steve," he said, concluding nobody was getting down to business, so to speak.

Steve genuinely looked confused at first, then he clocked your uneaten food and still-panicked body language. He would have always helped you - even if not through The Avengers. He had forgotten that people's idea of him had changed over the past few years. He wasn't America's golden boy anymore. Not perfect. Not always law-abiding. Once upon a time, someone like you could show up and know categorically that Captain America would save them. It wasn't like that anymore. You were waiting, unsure.

"You can stay here, Y/N," Steve said, a little bit rushed. "We watched overnight to see if anybody… lingered around. Nobody's come looking for you yet."

"But we believe you," Wanda added. "We'll find them."

"Well- we will do our best," he clarified. Steve then looked over at Bucky, as if he expected him to add something. Bucky remained silent.

Saying 'thank you' didn’t feel like enough. Before you got even that out, Steve continued. "Tony's letting you use one of the living quarters,"

"You'll be near me," from Wanda.

"It's just Wanda and Buck living here right now, but the rest of us are always around. And there isn't a more secure building in the world," Steve assured you. The fact that you'd easily found your way into the heart of it the night before crossed everyone's minds. Nobody mentioned it.

"Why do you still live here?" you asked Bucky, almost automatically. It just slipped out. You'd assumed wherever Steve Rogers went, Bucky Barnes would follow.

Bucky's blank expression almost faltered. "Not really trusted yet," he told you.

"Buck-" Steve said at the same time as Wanda began, "By you. Everybody else trusts you. You're free to go whenever you want,"

"So are you," Bucky pointedly replied.

They looked at each other for a moment, their respective ghosts catching up.

"Anyway," Steve cut in, "You should head home, grab what you need. We'll figure it out from there, okay?" He rested his palm on your arm in a soft gesture.

"By myself?" you asked quietly. All three of the Avengers could hear the fear in your voice.

In your life, you had been forced to live on the cusp of hyperawareness at all times. Self-monitoring was the natural consequence of not wanting to out yourself or hurt anybody. A side effect of the monitoring was being able to read other people exceptionally well. Take for instance this moment in the kitchenette of Stark Tower. The truth was not being told. Wanda fidgeting with her teacup, Steve's watchful eyes attempting to assess your belief… They were dead giveaways.

"It's best that nobody knows you've come to us," Steve explained. "If whoever it is following you are planning something, it may just speed up their timeline."

He probably wasn't wrong. But it also wasn't everything.

"Answer this question truthfully: why do you want me to go alone?"

Wanda's eyes went wide as Steve immediately started to talk. "Officially we didn't record anybody outside the Tower but Buck saw someone a block down that isn't normally there. We sent an agent to approach, and they were posed as living with homelessness, but it was an obvious cover. We're sending you home to test if they'll follow you."

There were two seconds of silence when he finished.

"Well…" Wanda sighed out, sipping at her tea.

"That… doesn't feel good," Steve said, feeling disorientated.

From next to you, Bucky chuckled to himself. You turned and shot him a look. "It's not funny!" Abruptly standing, you launched the others to do the sam, falling into defensive positions. "You said I'd be safe and now you're using me as bait,"

"Y/N, we know-"

"No, you don't fucking know," you interrupted Steve. "I've got-got this thing… this power that I don't want and now people I don't know are hunting me and I don't know how they know about it and it's fucking terrifying! And I work up the courage to come here and risk gettin' shot by Iron Man or whatever to get help and you're just sending me out there to see if anything happens?!"

"You're right," Bucky says, stopping you from continuing with not so much what he said but with the volume of his voice. It was the loudest you'd heard him speak. He stepped closer to you, relaxed his shoulders. "You've got every right to be pissed. But you're not exactly defenceless, and we don't have a lot to go on here." He took another step closer; he was at an arm's length. "We shouldn't have lied, but we didn't know how you'd react. Can't blame us for being careful. I'm sorry, Y/N… But we ain't gonna let anything happen to you, trust us."

The Avengers had been through hell, some more than others. All of them though, knew what it meant to be afraid of themselves and for their lives. This had very reasonably left them with depleted trust levels but maximum empathy, arguably, none more than Bucky Barnes. So maybe it was only Bucky that could have asked for trust and received it.

You nodded, trying to breathe properly.

"Here," Bucky said, closing some of the space between you and reaching for your hand. He lifted it to your nose then demonstrated what to do on himself. "Breath in one way," he told you, closing one nostril. "Breath out the other." He switched.

Following his lead, you breathed in, breathed out. In. Out. It worked. With your breathing regulated you felt slightly more in control.

"I'm sorry," you said to step, looking behind Bucky at Steve.

"It's okay; you're scared. But we're going to help you, Y/N."

…

The elevator music was not the usual. Maybe Tony's Spotify was directly connected to it, you thought on the ride down. Maybe it was F.R.I.D.A.Y. making the building more Stark-esque. It helped to think about the music rather than the fact you were about to step back out into the city.

"You wanna go over the route again?" Bucky asked. He was leaning against the elevator wall, adjacent to you. He'd been watching you since leaving the kitchenette.

In a boardroom you had been shown the planned route you'd take home, and where each Avenger would be located. It was just Steve, Wanda, Sam and Peter Parker. The kid had been called in when Natasha received one of her mysterious messages and disappeared into the night. Everybody else was out on missions or taking time off. You and your tail weren't exactly a high priority. Agents in civilian attire would be on the street too, just in case.

From the boardroom, you'd been put back in your limbo bedroom for a couple of hours while the plan was put into motion.

When Bucky returned to collect you, he'd changed out of the sweatpants and white t-shirt he was wearing and into his uniform. You'd not seen it before, on the news or the internet or anywhere else. You'd never know he had a vibranium Wakandan-made arm. Bucky's long hair was pulled into a bun.

"No," you replied quietly, glancing over at him.

His watching was both unnerving and reassuring. You'd never want to be on the wrong side of Bucky Barnes, formally The Winter Soldier. Luckily, you weren't.

"You can make me, if you want," he said then.

Fully turning to him, your anxious expression turned to confusion. "Make you do what?"

"Tell me to make sure you get home and back here in one piece. If you make me, I gotta, right?" he asked, with a way too casual shrug of the shoulder. Bucky's lips were curved upwards just enough that you could catch it, but he didn't look like he was waiting for you to laugh. It wasn't a joke.

"Aren't you gonna do that anyway?"

"Course, but…" When he paused he read your face for any minute micro-expression. How much of the truth could you handle? "Get an order, complete it like a good soldier. Makes it easier. Keeps you one-track-minded." He'd settled for part of the truth. Only a small part.

It became very clear that Bucky was asking you to make him obey, although you didn't know why. Reaching out to the elevator control panel, you hit the emergency stop. When the elevator did in fact, stop, you were a bit surprised. Dramatically stopping an elevator was something people only did in movies. It had amused Bucky though, that was evident in the dimples on his cheeks formed when his small smirk grew too wide.

"Make sure I get to my house safely. Help me get what I need, and bring me back here," you told Bucky as you leaned back against the wall opposite his.

The smile dropped from his face, along with any shade of expression. You could see your power in his eyes.

Bucky nodded, you started the elevator, and the rest of the ride was silent.

Chapter 4.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes/Y/N #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes/You #mine #BB and the Girl w Too Much Power

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asgardianthot · 5 years ago

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Right here with me (Sambucky)

Angst, hurt/comfort, recovery

Summary: Bucky wakes up screaming from a nightmare

A/N: Overdone? Yes. Bold of you to assume I’m not popular-troupe-trash

word count: 2278

It hadn’t been a specifically tiring day, but Bucky still managed to fall entirely asleep almost the second that he hopped on the bed. Sam, on the other hand, had stayed up later than usual, finishing up some reports that had piled like skyscrapers on a desk. When the coffee hype left his body, it was already 2 am, so he walked back to their room, ready to black out like his boyfriend had. The latter had been sleeping for a while now, and they particularly avoided waking each other up, never wanting to disturb the other’s peaceful dreams, so instead of bothering him with a goodnight kiss, Sam laid down on the mattress with his mid-autumn pajamas already on.

He rested his head on the pillow that was now perfectly customized to the shape of his head and drifted fast asleep.

He thought he held Bucky at some point in his sleep, but when the noises woke him, the man was nowhere near his reach.

At first, the scenario consisted in Bucky breathing loudly and hectically, his chest heaving up and down and a big ugly frown on his forehead.

For the time being, Sam didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and shake him awake, fully aware of the fact that Bucky hated it when Sam would do that, as he wanted to be able to take care of himself. He claimed he didn’t need the pampering and the pity and that most of the times his nightmares didn’t affect him that bad. Therefore, Sam only acted like that when absolutely necessary.

“Bucky, wake up.” He simply whispered, hoping that would be enough to stop the horrid dreams.

He was wrong. Bucky’s respirations weren’t slowing down, and for a second Sam wished it was one of those times when the soldier would mumble in his sleep so that he could get a better insight on what was going on in the man’s head. Easily, Sam sat up and placed a hand on Bucky’s arm, in an attempt to get his attention. However, the gesture startled him even more. By that moment, Bucky’s gaped mouth was battling with gasps of air, like he was drowning or choking or recovering from a marathon. He was sweating as well, to add to the whole image.

Wilson assumed he had short of a free pass to become sterner at the sound of his boyfriend’s despair.

“Bucky, wake up.” He practically commanded him.

It was as if he couldn’t hear him. Sometimes a dream could be too real, too vivid and familiar, as if grazing the lines where the oniric turned into reality, when the haunting memories plummeted onto their bed.

As manifestation, there was hearable wheezing in Barnes’ vocals. And now Sam allowed himself to move quickly, attempting to shift a big guy like Bucky while it felt as if his entire weight was holding him down on that mattress. It wasn’t easy, but it was fast, as he somehow lifted his shoulders and managed to sit behind him.

“Come on.” he shook him lightly, a little more desperate now. “Snap out of it.”

All of a sudden, and definitely not giving Sam enough time to react, the panting easily turned into a painful scream. Every fiber of Wilson’s body panicked and stopped at the sound of his voice being torn apart. Whatever that nightmare constituted was horrifying enough to produce such a piercing shout.

This had happened before, however most times Sam usually jolted awake when Bucky screamed out of the blue, no previous complaints, and it was easier to wake him when in such state. Being so incredibly vocal implied he would eventually be awaking his body himself. This time, Sam had somewhat of a warning before and he still hadn’t been able to avoid the nightmare from escalading.

With his hand on Barnes’ chest, Wilson held him down when the passed out body began moving a bit too much.

“Bucky, baby, wake up!” Sam raised his voice over the yelling.

The man shut up very abruptly, and one painful gasp of air later, recovering from the shrieking, he was jolting awake. He hadn’t sweetly drifted from the night terror with kisses, he had fallen out of it, violently.

“It’s just a dream.” Sam lowered his voice as he noticed the man’s awareness, easing him into reality.

Scared hands flew to hold onto Sam’s for dear life, the one keeping his own chest down; Bucky grabbed them as if he was grounding himself, but it felt more like he was seeking protection. Meanwhile, his breathing was still hectic, riding off the aftershock.

“You’re okay, baby.” Sam reminded him before dropping a kiss on the sweaty forehead and moving some wet hair off. “You’re right here with me.”

A grimace planted itself on Bucky’s features and he started crying silently, still choked up on his pounding heart.

“I’m sorry.” he croaked out.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Wilson reminded him while his thumb ran up and down, caressing Bucky’s chest.

The latter was still gripping at Sam’s wrist like he’d fall to his death if he let go. His diaphragm contracted as he was holding back sobs, attempting his best not to continue making a scandal.

Sam understood that, and it made his stomach churn. To fathom the idea of Barnes feeling so guilty, so apologetic over his involuntary trauma was difficult, impossible to get a grasp on, even.

“Let it out, it’s okay.” He cooed, a hint of annoyance over Bucky’s stubbornness hearable, yet it meant more acceptance than anything else.

So, feeling like he had just been granted permission –something ridiculous to think but easy to understand– Bucky’s cry built up exponentially, up until the point where he was sobbing.

“I’m sorry.” He let out in a hitched up whisper.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Sam repeated his words, as almost a scolding; that was James Barnes for ya, so heavy-headed, kind words didn’t work with him, but instead needed the permission to feel to be punched into his gut. “Never apologize to me for being loud.” He emphasized.

And they both knew he meant both the crying and the screaming.

So Barnes nodded compliant, letting out puffs of air between wet cheeks, all the while his lips trembled.

“Come ‘ere.” Wilson dragged him up so he could hold him better, groaning a bit too much on purpose to lighten the overall tone. “You’re heavy.” he mocked.

A small chuckle escaped Bucky’s crying. The joke soothed him no matter how many times he’d heard that comment before. And the intent worked, for he was now crying less aggressively. He shut his eyes and just let the tears stroll down, not because he was holding back but because he felt safe. Safe to be violently sad, and therefore he didn’t feel it burning up inside his chest ready to burst. He was home.

Sam wrapped both arms around him, to which Bucky responded by cuddling with the arm he was gripping at before.

“You’re okay.” Sam said like a mantra; he placed a kiss on the back of his lover’s head and pressed his own face to it. “We’re okay.”

Bucky nodded, agreeing. It took a few minutes for the tears to stop strolling down. After he finally began to fall back asleep, Wilson pinned both bodies down to their sides. He spooned him, wishing to know more about what had just happened, wanting to get that out of Bucky’s chest; nevertheless, he prioritized the man’s tranquility over the long-term mental health. He’d get there eventually. For the night, though, he simply required some peace.

As if reading Sam’s mind, Barnes spoke so easily that it almost surprised the veteran.

“It was about Hydra. Again.”

Sam accommodated their bodies even more, unnecessarily, but only as a manner of reaffirming his tight held.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Bucky didn’t shift. “No.”

After a long minute of silence, of just resting and being there for Bucky, the latter’s body began shaking again. If the situation wasn’t awful enough, the fact that he couldn’t speak the horrors done to him in his sleep –therefore in his past– upset him on a more vulnerable level. He wished to tell Sam, tell him everything, but then again, he thought he himself was already too much to handle; adding stories that would make Sam’s skin crawl or at least feel disgusted would only accentuate that.

Wilson left a kiss on the weeping man’s shoulder.

This time Bucky spoke through gritted teeth. “They keep hurting me.”

“Shhh,” Sam eventually had to appeal to softer ways, not giving him the space he had planned but actually pampering him in order to ease his pain. “no they don’t. That’s far in the past. They can’t get to ya now.”

Bucky couldn’t agree. “They are.” He shut his eyes tightly, as he was referring to the recurrent the torment of the nightmares.

They couldn’t harm him physically. They couldn’t reach with their gloved surgeon hands or with their guns, they couldn’t chain or lock or freeze him. No organization would ever make him do horrors, nor erase his memory, nor cut through his skin. However the fact that they had done all of that and more, that would stick with him forever. Or so he thought. At least, the fact that it affected him this much at that very moment, was enough to believe they still somehow had him.

Sam was grateful that Bucky’s positioning didn’t grant him a sight of the darker man’s face, for he couldn’t hold back the sad frown from appearing. He could only imagine the desperation in his boyfriend’s chest, and there was only so much he could do to help.

He put on a soothing, yet not condescending tone. “We won’t let them, alright?”

It took every last bit of strength for Bucky to believe his lover. But when he did, it eased his body for the second time that night, slowly calming down his breath until he ceased crying. Sam didn’t say anything else, giving him as much time as the soldier needed to find some peace again.

Wilson understood his lover’s feelings, and showed as much respect towards his own space and rhythm as he could. Which was why, when Barnes spewed valuable progress as easily as before, it warmed the man’s already warm heart.

“I’m gonna go to that doctor.” Bucky claimed.

Sam raised his head a little so he could mimic towering over him without having to disrupt their comfortable position. “The therapist?” He confirmed.

“Yeah.”

They had talked about it. Sam had pushed the idea more than once but never pressuring him into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Bucky was merely good at avoiding the subject and therefore Sam was used to dropping it as fast as he brought it up.

“Don’t go if you’re not ready.” The veteran reminded him with such a serious tone, he couldn’t have faked it if he had wanted to. “This, the nightmare… It doesn’t mean you’re setting back, Barnes.”

Bucky didn’t totally believe that, but after all, he was sort of a downer. Sam had it easier when it came to seeing brightness in the future. He was a tad more positive about those kinds of things –traumas, a better day– and sometimes, Bucky truly needed the insight.

“Maybe.” The latter reflected on that possibility.

He hated the idea of telling a stranger all of his darkest secrets, sitting on their generous space and vomiting memories that felt implanted even though his very soul knew they were his.

Aware of that fact, Sam met him halfway. “I can go with you.” He offered.

It made Bucky remember the time Sam had told him he couldn’t walk with him to that office. He couldn’t sit next to him nor wait outside the door in case he needed to fly out that building as fast as he could. It was his own road to walk and he needed to do it by himself, willingly and when he was one hundred percent sure.

Sam not only helped veterans in therapeutic help groups, but he also went himself, responsibly, to a professional every once in a while. He knew he needed it and he took care of himself, no need for Bucky to hold his hand as their path to recovery must be separate. Personal.

So he gave Sam’s arm an appreciative squeeze. There was a grateful, tired grin that Sam couldn’t see as he faced the other way, planted on the puffy features. On some level, it wasn’t a conversation, for they weren’t intimately seeing into each other’s souls, but instead the heart-to-heart came from Bucky to Bucky, with Sam merely supporting him.

“Thanks.” Bucky said, genuinely warmed by the fact that Sam would go the extra mile. “But you’re right. I have to do this by myself. For myself.”

Sam couldn’t stop the smile from taking over his face. Barnes must have felt it too, when the Falcon planted a sweet, long kiss on his temple, then returned his own head to the pillow.

“I’ll drive you.” Wilson gave into his pity through another offer.

The thought of his boyfriend voluntarily wanting to push himself made him actually wish to cheat the process and walk with him to that office, holding his hand. They both settled with just driving there together.

Bucky hummed in replace of a laughter, as approval. “Sounds good.”

The two men proceeded to drift back asleep, cuddling for dear life, and the only thing hearable for the rest of the night was peaceful breathing.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tftws #the falcon and the winter soldier #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #hurt/comf #marvel #fanfiction #stackie

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amberandmetal · 6 years ago

Text

Thoughts on Endgame

Spoilers under the cut

Let’s start with the negatives to get it out of the way, yeah?

I can not believe they didn’t fix the travesty that was Loki’s death in IW. That big of a character? That character arc? A character that was only supposed to be a one movie villain yet became one of the most beloved characters of the entire MCU? You fully expect us to believe that the end of such an amazing character would be going at Thanos with a dagger and being killed off in the beginning of a movie? Like he was nothing? Insulting to Loki, insulting to the fans.

I can understand why they killed Nat instead of Clint, although I was fuming during that scene, I did not cry one bit, I was that pissed off. And yeah maybe the patriarchy has made me bitter and resentful but all I could think of was “You really gonna do that? Kill off the only female Avenger of the original 6?” and especially after how they have treated her character, giving her a new personality every movie. It didn’t feel right. Would’ve made more sense (to me at least) for Hawkeye to take the plunge and for Nat to dissappear at the end of the movie, just leaving never to be heard of again. It feels more in line with their characters. But maybe that’s just me.

Thor. Don’t even get me started on the dumpsterfire that is Thor’s character. Up until Ragnarök he was consistent, he made sense. Then ragnarök came and turned both Thor and Loki into cartoons, a character development that made no sense. And now the Russos finished Taika’s work by putting the final nail in Thor’s characterisation coffin by making him a parody of himself. And also, I am deeply dissapointed in the MCU for turning obesity into a joke. “Look, a fat Thor, how funny, ha-ha.” Oh, and let’s not forget that apparently panic attacks are comedy gold as well. Thor is not this cartoon comic relief and I will deny anything Thor related post-AOU until my dying day.

They fucking screwed Banner in much the same way. They turned him into a buffon and a comic relief.

I actually had a feeling Steve would find a way back into the 40′s and settle down with Peggy. And even though I think that’s a perfect ending for him, to finally get what he wanted (because yeah Steggy is canon, Peggy is the love of Steve’s life, and Stucky and Stony are fanon, get it straight (badum-tss) people/ sincerely a Stony shipper), it raises way too many questions about the timelines. If Steve stayed with Peggy then wouldn’t that create a different timeline because even though a second Steve would still get woken from the ice in 70 years, there is Peggy and the husband and children she never had that she in the “normal” timeline already had. And if so then our Steve is in a different timeline so how tf did he end up in the “normal” timeline all those years later, like an old man. How did he swap timelines? Or does the Russos have another explanation for what happened with Steve’s time fiddling?

Tony’s death. I still haven’t cried about it because it’s so surreal. It’s like my heart mind won’t accept it. I love how they gave him the final line from the first Iron man movie as his last one ever, but it still.. yeah I can’t really go into it because I haven’t fully processed it yet. Joe Russo being a doctor in CATWS and now he was a survivor in group? Are we supposed to think it’s the same character? He didn’t act like it? Like what was that?

And for all of you complaining about how “Steve would never leave Bucky behind”, did you not catch on when Bucky said “I’m going to miss you”? I mean clearly Steve would not do something like this without talking it through with Bucky first and I can imagine Steve asked if Bucky wanted to do the same, and Bucky refusing. He has suffered way more trauma than Steve, plus a dude with a metal arm in the forties? Schyeah, no. And yeah, Steve did say to Sam that he “got to thinking” or something like that, like the decision was made when he was already back there, but maybe that’s just something he says to Sam. You don’t think Sam would feel hurt or left out if he found out Steve had planned on doing this without telling him? And Bucky fucking knew. Or else he wouldn’t have told Sam to “Come on, go on” to go over to Steve, otherwise Bucky would have fucking gone first. He wasn’t surprised. So either they talked about it beforehand, or they didn’t because they didn’t have to, but Bucky knew.

And lastly my thoughts on the time line conundrum: So let’s call the standard timeline timeline 1, and our original Steve for Steve 1. So Steve 1 goes back in time to be with Peggy, creating Timeline 2 (so the Sam and Bucky he goes to visit shouldn’t be Timeline 1 Sam and Bucky but Timeline 2 Sam and Bucky, but somehow he skipped?), how does this work when Steve 2 gets brought back from the ice and goes to find Peggy, who in this timeline is married to Steve 1? And then when Steve 2 inevitably finds himself in the same Endgame scenario as Steve 1 had done, he will go back in time in Timeline 2. Will that create a Timeline 3 and so on and so forth to eternity? Or will he find himself a.k.a Steve 1 already there with Peggy at the moment where Timeline 1 broke off into Timeline 2?... This is giving me a headache and needs it’s own individual post..

Okay now let’s get to the good stuff

I love my blue queen. Nebula is just amazing. And I love how they brought Gamora back because this Gamora who hadn’t left Thanos and joined the GOTG yet will just bring so much to the next GOTG movie and I am HERE FOR IT.

The scene where everyone came back. Do I need to say more? Best fucking scene in the entire MCU. I cried like full on ugly crying, with the noises and shaking and “fuckfuckfuck what is going on onscreen, everything is blurry!” So powerful.

Our all female attack group to help Danvers get through the masses of alien scum (hell yeah, I’m biased). My heart literally exploded into sunshine and rainbows.

This deserves two bulletpoints. The female badassery!

Steve-motherfucking-Rogers picking up Mjölnir. Steve-motherfucking-Rogers is hella worthy.

The cinematography is just insane.

How wellmade the scenes in 2012 were? All the new scenes and angles we got to see and just, wow.

They managed to keep all these different timelines, stories and characters in time with each other in a way that it didn’t feel scattered and it all made sense.

Peter being a flailing potato teenager when he came back and the look on Tony’s face.

Morgan Stark.

Stan Lee’s cameo.

Tony getting some closure with Howard.

Pepper Potts kicking ass and taking names in her own suit.

Rocket being a sassmaster (as well as Nebula “Watch out. There’s an idiot on the landsite.”)

The reconcileation between Cap and Tony. (Still lamenting the absence of the hug we all deserved but hey, what u gonna do?)

Valkyrie on her fucking winged horse, oh my fucking god I think the last hetero in me went belly up at that moment.

Carol- fucking- Danvers.

Frigga.

Tony checking out Steve’s ass. “That is America’s ass”

The Steve x Steve fight? New kink activated, just saying.

I’m sure there are more points and I will update this when I think of them, but this is what I got so far. And even though there’s a lot that pissed me off I am still very much happy with it and just in awe. I’m sad but.. yeah this was a good ending.

#Avengers endgame #Avengers: endgame #aeg #avengers 4 #MCU #thor #loki #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #tony stark #steve rogers #mine

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