#hydra headers

[buckyseternaldoll]

Five Seconds, Five Years (Part I)

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✮⋆˙ Part II | Part III

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes proposed just days before the world ended — afraid he might never get another chance. Then he vanished in Wakanda. Five years later, he’s at your door — unchanged, while your whole life has moved on. Some love survives time. But what happens when life doesn’t wait?

Disclaimer: Heavy emotional angst, pre-Blip tension, mentions of impending war, proposal made under fear of death, sudden character disappearance (Blip), ambiguous loss, spiraling grief, trauma resurfacing, no body or closure, emotional collapse, breakdown depicted in detail, survivor’s guilt, mentions of Steve Rogers relaying death news. **This story stretches between several timelines in MCU (only loosely, not to be strictly following the year gaps)

Word Count: 4,543

The morning started with a light shower of rain.

You watched the droplets race each other down the windowpane, your breath fogging the glass as you leaned against the frame. Then—two soft knocks. You didn’t need to look. You already knew.

“Hi, doll,” Bucky said, voice low and warm with something close to reverence.

His hair was slightly damp from the spring rain, curling around his ears in a way that always made your fingers twitch to brush it back. His hoodie was soft and old, the sleeves bunched around his forearms—one solid and familiar, the other sleeve empty, folded and pinned neatly at the elbow. He looked tired—not in the physical sense, but in the bone-deep way someone looks after wading through ghosts every day. But he smiled for you. A small, worn smile that still made something in your chest ache with love.

You stepped aside without a word, letting him in, and he walked in with the quiet of someone who knew exactly where he was going. The apartment hadn’t changed. Same lamp with the crooked shade. Same couch where you both had fallen asleep watching movies at 2AM. Same coffee table with the scratch he’d accidentally left with the blunt corner of his missing arm that first night you kissed.

He dropped his overnight bag beside the door, exhaled slowly, then turned to you.

“Still like chamomile?” he asked softly.

“Still need it to sleep,” you replied.

And just like that, like every visit before this, he melted into the space like he belonged. Because he did.

—

He never stayed long.

A few days at most—just long enough to fold himself back into the quiet corners of your life, like he’d never left. Just long enough to remind you what peace felt like in the shape of his hands.

Wakanda was still healing him—carefully, gently, methodically. Shuri had done the impossible, reworking HYDRA’s programming strand by strand. But even she said: healing isn’t a machine you can fix. It’s something you relearn, every day.

So he came back to New York when the shadows got too loud. When he needed something no vibranium tech could replicate. You.

He told you once, on one of those nights when he curled into your sheets like a man too big for peace, that he didn’t remember what love felt like before you. Only that with you, it was quiet. Safe.

“You don’t pull me out of the dark,” he said. “You just sit with me in it.”

You had no idea how much that would come to mean.

—

The night he proposed, there was fear in the sky.

You tasted it in the wind, felt it in his kiss—like the world was holding its breath, and he was holding you in case it collapsed.

He held you longer that night. Kissed you slower. Touched you like he was tracing every line of a goodbye letter he hadn’t written yet. You were half-asleep on the couch, your leg draped over his, one of his hands resting gently on your thigh while the city pulsed beyond the window. Everything felt like static—like something just out of reach was about to break.

Then he pulled a small velvet box from the pocket of his hoodie.

“I know this isn’t perfect,” he said. “It’s not candlelight or champagne. But I’ve spent so much of my life losing time—and I won’t risk losing this moment.”

He slid down to one knee, right there in the living room, ring in one hand, his other hand cupping your cheek.

“If I go… and I don’t make it back… I need to know I at least asked.”

“Marry me,” he said. “Let me go into whatever’s coming knowing I finally did something for me. For us.”

Your tears soaked his collar as you nodded yes and whispered, “Come back to me. I’ll be here. For you—always.”

—

You stood on the fire escape with your back to his chest, the city humming below.

It felt like a goodbye disguised as a promise. And you let yourself believe there’d be another hello.

He didn’t say much that morning. Just pressed his lips against your shoulder. Just held your hand like it was the only thing keeping him together.

Before he left, he turned to you one last time, eyes impossibly soft.

“After this… if there’s still a world left—let’s get out of here,” he murmured, his voice low, steady. “Seoul, maybe. You always said you wanted to see the Han River.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “You remember that?”

He nodded, smiling softly. “You used to watch those Korean dramas in bed. Said you loved the way it looked—couples walking under cherry blossoms by the river, taking the KTX cross-country like it was something sacred. You said the peace there felt… quiet. Not empty.”

Your heart clenched. “I was learning the language. Thought if I really wanted to understand it all—the place, the people—I’d have to go live it. Not just dream it.”

“Then let’s live it,” he whispered. “I want peace. But more than that… I want you in peace.”

You kissed him once more.

You didn’t know it would be the last.

—

You didn’t see him disappear.

You weren’t even awake when it happened. The sun had barely risen over New York when your phone buzzed—once. Then again. Then relentlessly. The group chat with Sam. News alerts. A voicemail from Nat with no words, just labored breathing and distant shouting.

You sat up slowly, still in his hoodie, the ring box on your nightstand untouched from the night before.

Then came the knock.

Three times. Firm, deliberate.

You already knew.

You opened the door and found Steve standing there. Still in his suit. Mud on his boots. A small tear in the shoulder of his uniform. His shield wasn’t with him. His eyes were red-rimmed, jaw clenched so hard it ticked like a clock.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You stepped back.

He moved like someone walking through wet cement—slow, deliberate, as though every step hurt. He looked around your apartment like it was sacred ground, his gaze falling on the framed photo of you and Bucky laughing in Central Park. He swallowed hard and finally sat on the edge of the armchair.

And then he said it.

“He’s gone.”

The words hit you like a blunt object. Not a stab—there was no blood. Just the absence of breath. Like your lungs forgot how to work.

“It was fast. Dust,” Steve said. “Just… dust.”

You didn’t respond. You just stared. Not at him. Not at anything.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “Before the battle… he pulled me aside. Gave me this.”

From his pocket, Steve pulled out a small, worn notebook. You recognized it immediately. Bucky’s.

“He told me… if anything happened to him, if he didn’t come back… I was to find you. He wrote your name on the first page. Your number. Said, ‘She’s the only thing that ever made me feel like a man again. Please tell her I didn’t walk away.’”

Your knees buckled.

Steve caught you, arms strong and shaking all at once, pulling you gently to the floor.

“I’m so sorry.”

You weren’t crying. Not yet. You were too numb. The room spun in tight, slow circles.

“I need to see it,” you whispered.

Steve hesitated—then nodded.

He opened the notebook to the first page.

There, scrawled in Bucky’s neat, all-caps handwriting:

IF I DON’T MAKE IT BACK—CALL HER. TELL HER I WAS THINKING OF HER. TELL HER I DIDN’T RUN. TELL HER I LOVE HER.

Beneath it—your name. Your number. A little drawing. A tiny heart.

That’s when the screaming started.

—

You didn’t remember hitting the floor, but you remembered the sound of your scream.

Not human. Not you. Something primal, something that ripped through your throat and shattered into the walls around you. Your voice cracked. Broke. The notebook hit the floor. The ring box fell from the nightstand and landed with a hollow, damning thud.

You barely heard Steve calling your name. Felt his hands on your shoulders, grounding you, holding you like Bucky once did. You clawed at the couch cushions, the carpet, your own skin.

You begged. Pleaded. Not for God. Not for mercy. Just for one more second.

But there was no body.

No goodbye.

No grave.

Just dust on the wind and the weight of a love that had no ending.

You didn’t dream for weeks after that.

You couldn’t.

Because in every dream, he came back.

And in every one, he left again.

—

The first three days, you didn’t move from the couch.

The world around you buzzed in static—television left on, reports playing on loop. People screaming in airports. Planes crashing. Children disappearing from classrooms mid-laugh. It didn’t feel real. Nothing did.

You watched the news like a zombie. Not for information—you already knew the only part that mattered. But some stubborn part of you hoped someone, somewhere, would say his name. Would tell you they made a mistake. That he wasn’t among the dead.

But the screen stayed silent. And you did too.

—

By the fourth day, the calls started.

Steve again. Sam. Natasha. Even Bruce. You didn’t answer any of them. Not because you were angry—because the thought of speaking felt unbearable. Like it would make it real.

You didn’t want reality.

You wanted Bucky’s half-finished mug on the counter. You wanted the hoodie he left draped on the kitchen chair to still smell like him. You wanted his voice—gruff and low and quiet when he called you doll—to echo in the hallway again.

You slept on the floor.

It was cold there, under the window, but you didn’t care. The bed still had the dent where he last lay. The sheets still smelled like the skin between his neck and collarbone. You couldn’t touch it. You couldn’t bear to lie there and know you’d wake up alone.

You left the lights off. You didn’t eat. You stopped checking the time.

—

Your body broke before your mind did.

On Day Six, you collapsed in the hallway—halfway between the kitchen and the bathroom. Hunger, dehydration, grief. You woke up with the side of your face pressed to the tile and vomit dried in your hair.

You didn’t bother showering.

—

The ring box sat on the coffee table like a tombstone.

You couldn’t look at it.

Sometimes you swore it moved. That the air around it bent a little—like the force of your grief made it magnetic. But maybe that was just the fever setting in.

By Day Ten, the plants in the apartment had all died. You hadn’t watered them. Hadn’t opened the windows. You couldn’t stand the idea of fresh air. What was the point of anything growing if he wasn’t around to see it?

—

The fridge smelled like something rotting. You ignored it.

Instead, you sat on the kitchen floor in the same clothes from the week before. A loose shirt that smelled like Bucky and a pair of sweats with a hole in the knee. You held his dog tags in your fist so tightly, they left deep red grooves in your palm.

You thought about drinking.

The bottle of whiskey in the cabinet had dust on it—he’d been the one to stop you from spiraling back in those first months together. Always said he didn’t want to erase pain anymore. Just learn how to hold it.

You opened the cap. Brought it to your lips.

And stopped.

Not because you had willpower.

Because you knew it wouldn’t work.

There was no numbness strong enough to kill what was eating you.

—

The world outside moved on.

People rioted. Protested. Some fell into religion. Some into madness.

You fell into silence.

Your voice, when you finally spoke again, was raw. Dry. You tested it in the mirror one night like it was a broken instrument.

“Bucky.”

It cracked in half.

—

You didn’t leave the apartment for three weeks.

When you finally did—just to get milk, just to do something normal—you ended up on your knees in the middle of the sidewalk three blocks away. Some man passed you and smiled the way Bucky used to. And that was all it took.

You screamed. Sobbed. Clutched the concrete like it would split open and deliver him back to you.

A woman called 911. You told the paramedic you didn’t need a hospital.

You just needed him.

—

You stopped wearing your engagement ring. But you didn’t take it off either.

Instead, you threaded it through your necklace and wore it under your shirt. It dug into your chest when you lay down. Bruised your skin. But you kept it there.

Because pain, at least, reminded you that you hadn’t died with him.

Not completely.

—

You weren’t even sure how you got there.

One moment, you were standing in your kitchen, clutching a mug you hadn’t touched in days. The next, you were staring at a blank clipboard in a community center basement that smelled like old coffee and damp carpet.

Someone must have signed you up.

Sam, maybe. Steve.

You didn’t ask.

You just sat in a plastic chair at the far end of the circle, your hoodie drawn up, sleeves long enough to hide your shaking hands. The metal folding chair felt cold through your clothes. You hadn’t spoken to anyone in almost a week.

The room was too bright. Too quiet. You hated it.

—

A woman with kind eyes and a voice like a lullaby welcomed the group. She said her name was Jess. She offered tissues before anyone even spoke. As if she already knew.

Around you, strangers began to talk.

A man with graying temples spoke first. He lost his husband. Just vanished while brushing his teeth.

A mother next. Her little boy turned to ash in a park sandbox.

A teenager. His twin sister. Gone mid-laugh.

You couldn’t listen.

Because everything sounded like static.

Because all you could hear—all your brain let you hear—was him.

—

“You chew your pen when you’re anxious.”

Your lips curled slightly. Not in a smile—just recognition. You looked down.

You were chewing your pen. The same way Bucky used to tease you about.

Your hands trembled. You slid the pen across the floor, out of reach.

“Let me do the dishes. You cooked.”

You closed your eyes. Your throat ached.

You could still hear him humming while he cleaned. That stupid 1940s jazz that you pretended to hate.

You remembered standing in the kitchen doorway watching him wash the plates—one-armed, stubborn, slow—until you came up behind him, wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed the center of his back.

He always laughed when you did that. Said it tickled.

“I like this one on you,” he murmured once, thumbing the hem of your sweater.

It was the sweater you were wearing now.

You curled your fists into it. Pulled the sleeves over your palms like armor.

—

You hadn’t realized tears were spilling down your cheeks until someone passed you a tissue.

You didn’t look at them. You just nodded, quietly, and held the tissue in your lap like it was glass.

—

You still hadn’t spoken.

And you wouldn’t. Not that day.

But someone sat beside you.

Not close enough to crowd you. Not far enough to feel like pity.

A man. Taller than most in the room. Wide shoulders. He said nothing. He didn’t stare. He didn’t fidget.

He just… sat.

His presence felt like a dim light in a locked room. Not enough to see by. But enough to remind you the dark wouldn’t last forever.

You caught his name once—said soft during introductions, almost like he hated saying it aloud.

You didn’t remember the name.

But you remembered his eyes.

They didn’t flinch when he saw your pain.

And for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel invisible.

—

You didn’t plan to come back.

After that first session, you walked out into the gray drizzle of early fall and told yourself, That was it. Enough pretending. Enough people watching me fall apart.

But the next Thursday, you were there again.

Same plastic chair. Same empty hands. Same hollow ache under your ribs.

And so was he.

He never spoke first. Never leaned in. He was just… there.

Somehow, that was enough.

His name, you learned slowly, was Dean. He used to be a museum archivist. Lost his wife in the Snap—said it casually, like someone talking about bad weather. But you noticed the way his voice dipped when he said her name. Like he was still trying to hold onto it without cracking.

He never asked about Bucky. Not even once.

But when the others spoke of their losses, he never looked away from you. Like he knew yours ran deeper than words could reach.

—

Week three, he brought two mugs of chamomile tea into the session.

One slid toward you on the table without a word.

You stared at it for almost five minutes before lifting it with trembling hands.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Your first words in the group.

His only reply was a soft nod, like your voice was a fragile thing he didn’t want to scare away.

—

Your flashbacks to Bucky changed, slowly.

They used to come all at once—bright, vivid, crushing. The way his stubble felt against your neck. The way he’d lean his head against your shoulder without speaking, just breathing you in. The little notes he used to leave on post-its: Got groceries. Love you. Don’t forget your umbrella.

Now, the memories drifted in more quietly.

Softer.

You still heard his voice sometimes. Still caught the scent of his cologne on strangers in passing. Still reached for your phone on bad nights, forgetting—for just a second—that he couldn’t answer anymore.

But it hurt less.

And the guilt of that hurt in a whole new way.

—

One Thursday, weeks later, the group had to shift to a smaller room.

You ended up sitting closer to Dean than usual. Shoulder to shoulder.

You could feel the warmth of his arm through your sleeve. He didn’t move. Neither did you.

That night, walking home, your brain played a memory of Bucky helping you carry groceries—laughing as a bag ripped and apples rolled down the sidewalk.

You smiled, faintly.

Then you realized you hadn’t cried that day.

And you sat on the edge of your bathtub later that night, shaking.

Not because you missed Bucky.

But because you were starting to feel okay again—and that felt like betrayal.

—

A month passed. Then two.

Dean started walking you to the Metro. You didn’t ask him to.

One day, it rained.

You stopped under a shared umbrella, both of you damp and breathless from laughing—the first real laugh you’d had in months.

You looked up and caught Dean watching you, his expression unreadable.

Not romantic.

Not pitying.

Just… present.

Present in a way you hadn’t let yourself be for a very long time.

—

One night, after a particularly raw session, he spoke first.

“You know… when she vanished, I didn’t want to survive it.”

You turned to him, startled by the honesty.

He shrugged. “But then I realized… she’d kill me if I didn’t try.”

Your throat clenched. You looked at your lap.

“He used to say the same thing,” you whispered. “About me.”

Dean didn’t press.

Just walked a little closer that night.

—

By the time winter came, you could walk through your apartment without flinching.

You still had Bucky’s things.

You still wore his ring on a necklace.

But you didn’t collapse every time you looked at the spot where he used to sit.

Sometimes, you even caught yourself humming in the kitchen again.

You found yourself craving chamomile tea.

Not because it reminded you of him—but because it reminded you of you.

—

It wasn’t dramatic. There were no rose petals, no hidden photographers, no gasping onlookers.

It was quiet. Barely even romantic.

It happened on a Sunday.

You were walking back from the flower stall near the corner café—the one that had slowly become “yours.” Dean had picked up your favorite blend from the tiny tea shop on 12th. You had daisies in one hand, his in the other, and the sky had that late-spring haze that made everything feel softer than it really was.

It wasn’t a special day.

But it was a peaceful one.

And that was rare enough to feel sacred.

—

He stopped walking.

You turned when you noticed the gentle tug on your fingers.

Dean’s expression was unreadable—not nervous, not trembling. Just… full. Full of something warm and earnest.

“Hey,” he said gently. “Can I ask you something?”

You blinked. “Of course.”

“Not because I expect anything. Not because I need an answer right now. But just because I’ve been thinking about it.”

Your heart started to flutter. You knew. You knew what this was.

He reached into his coat pocket. Pulled out a box—small, worn, simple.

But you didn’t open it.

You stepped back.

Just an inch.

The shift in your eyes told him everything.

“Dean,” you said, voice tight, “there are still memories of him. Bucky. They’re everywhere. In my apartment. In my closet. In my head.”

You looked down, fidgeting with the necklace around your neck. The one with the first ring. His ring.

“Some days I still hear his voice. Some mornings I wake up reaching for him before I remember he’s not there.”

Your throat caught. You didn’t even notice the tears starting to gather.

“I don’t know if I can give you… a clean slate.”

Dean didn’t flinch.

He nodded, slowly, with something like relief in his eyes.

“I know,” he said. “I never expected you to.”

He stepped closer, took your hands again, and gently turned them over in his.

“You’re not letting him go. Just like I haven’t let her go, either.”

You looked up sharply.

Dean gave a soft smile. Not sad. Just real.

“She’s still here sometimes. When I make coffee in the French press. When I take the long way home past the bookstore she loved.”

“Grief doesn’t end,” he said. “It just… softens. Changes shape. We don’t bury them. We carry them. That’s what love does.”

You stood in silence for a long moment.

You thought about Bucky. The first time he’d told you he loved you. The way his laugh shook his shoulders. The promise of Seoul.

You thought about Dean, sitting beside you in silence every Thursday. Making space for your pain. Never trying to fix you. Just being there.

“You’re not a replacement,” you whispered.

“And you’re not broken,” he replied.

Then he held the box up.

“No pressure. No timeline. Just… maybe this could be our next chapter. One that we write slowly. With room for everything that came before.”

You opened the box.

Inside—a ring of pale gold, delicate, nothing flashy.

But there was a tiny engraving inside.

“Still here.”

Your lip trembled.

You nodded.

He didn’t slip the ring on your finger yet. He let you take it.

You slid it on, next to the weight of the one around your neck.

Two loves. Two lives.

And somehow, still, yours.

—

It happened in a blink.

One second, Bucky was in Wakanda—the dirt thick under his boots, the scent of fire and blood hanging in the air. He’d just raised his rifle. Just started to call out to Steve.

And then—the wind shifted.

The trees looked different. Taller. Lusher. Greener. The sky above was brighter, fuller. The battlefield was… gone.

There were birds singing.

Not screams. Not gunfire.

Just birdsong.

He spun around.

The spear Okoye had thrown was rusting in the grass. The ship that hovered above had long since vanished. There was no dust on his fingers. No ash on his coat. He checked his arm—the new vibranium still intact, just like it had been before he vanished.

But the world had changed.

He felt it.

Like walking into a memory too old to trust.

“Steve?” he called, breath shaky. “Sam?”

No one answered.

He didn’t waste time.

He got back to New York the fastest way he could—everything was a blur of panic and fire beneath his ribs. There was no time to understand. Not yet.

He had to find you.

He had to come home.

—

The sun had already begun to set when he reached your building.

That familiar stoop. The cracked step on the left. The faded welcome mat with the crooked “O.” It was all the same.

He climbed the stairs two at a time. His boots felt too loud. His heartbeat louder.

Then he stood at your door.

His hand trembled.

He knocked—twice. Just like always.

—

Inside, you were plating the steak.

The pan still sizzled on the stove. Garlic, rosemary, butter—the smell rich and comforting, spreading through the apartment like a warm blanket. Dean was rinsing the salad in the kitchen sink, humming softly under his breath.

It had been a good day.

You wore his hoodie. Your hair was up in that casual way Bucky used to love—but now Dean did, too. It was domestic. It was safe. It was… yours.

The knock made your head lift.

Two knocks.

You froze.

It couldn’t be. That rhythm—it was etched into your bones.

You stepped toward the door.

Dean looked over, still smiling. “Expecting someone?”

“No,” you said softly. “I… I don’t know.”

You opened the door.

—

And there he stood.

Bucky Barnes.

Same shoulders. Same eyes. Same hair—curling at the ends, messy from the wind.

He was breathing like he’d run the whole way.

Your mouth parted but no words came out. The hallway felt too narrow. Too real.

“Doll,” he whispered, voice rough and broken. “It’s you. It’s really—”

Then he stopped.

Because Dean appeared behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, kissed your shoulder casually, unaware of the hurricane that stood outside.

“Hey, babe—who’s—?”

His voice trailed off as he looked up.

Saw the man in the doorway.

Saw your face.

“Bucky,” you said.

A whisper. A gasp. A prayer.

—

The world tilted.

Bucky’s eyes dropped to Dean’s hands around your waist. To the ring on your finger. To your body, five years older.

He stumbled back a step.

You reached out instinctively—and stopped yourself.

He looked like he’d been gutted.

“You’re… older,” he said quietly. “How long—?”

“Five years,” you said, voice trembling. “It’s been five years.”

He blinked. Once. Twice.

“It was five seconds for me.”

His voice cracked down the middle.

Dean slowly, gently let go of your waist. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The pain on Bucky’s face said everything.

“I came back for you,” Bucky said. “I came home.”

Then he shook his head.

“But someone already did.”

You couldn’t speak.

Your hands were shaking.

Bucky took another step back.

“I thought… I thought I’d walk in, and you’d be waiting.”

A faint, broken laugh escaped his throat. It wasn’t humor. It was disbelief. It was the kind of laugh you make when the world plays its cruelest card.

“I was just a few seconds too late,” he whispered.

And then he turned.

And walked away.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

hii! i love your writing!! can i please request a bucky x reader where reader finds out that bucky often sleeps on the floor and when she notices she ends up sleeping next to him on the floor but then a few days later she makes a blanket fort so at least they’ll be in a cute environment while sleeping on the floor

For You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: TFATWS/Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You find out that Bucky sleeps on the floor and you end up sleeping next to him. For Bucky, you’ll do anything. Even if it means sleeping on the floor.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of HYDRA, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the cute request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckyys-babydoll / divider made by me

GIF IS NOT MINE! GIF credit goes to the creator.

You woke up in the middle night to get something to drink and then went back to bed. You frowned in confusion when something felt off. You felt the bed next to you, expecting Bucky to be asleep next to you, but he wasn’t. Where could he be at this time of night? You got out of bed to look for him. You didn’t have to go far. You found him sleeping on the living room floor with the TV on a low volume. It made you wonder why your boyfriend was sleeping on the hard floor instead of a nice comfortable bed. You sat down on the floor next to him.

“Babe.” You gently shook him. “Baby, wake up.” You whispered.

Bucky jumped slightly as he woke up. He looked at you and sat up.

“Hey, doll. Is everything ok?” Bucky asks softly, his voice raspy from sleeping.

“Everything is fine.” You say softly. “Why are you sleeping on the floor when we have a soft bed down the hall?” You asked.

Bucky shrugged and looked down.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” You asked softly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, babydoll.” He assures. “It’s just-” He pauses and sighs softly.

“It’s just what, baby?” You asked. “I’m your girlfriend. You can tell me anything.” You say softly.

“I have a hard time sleeping in beds. It feels like I’m going to sink down to the floor.” He finally says.

“Is it because of the war?” You asked.

“Partly. It’s also partly because of HYDRA.” He tells you.

“Oh, sweetie…” You whispered, hugging him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You asked softly.

Bucky leans his forehead against your shoulder and shrugs his shoulders.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Bucky says.

“I’m your girlfriend. I’m going to worry about you no matter what.” You say.

Bucky lifted his head and looked deep in your eyes. You could see how tired he is just by looking in his eyes. You cupped his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs against the stubble of his beard.

“You know how much I love you?” You asked softly.

“Yes I do.” Bucky smiles.

You kissed him sweetly and passionately.

“I’ll be right back.” You say.

Bucky nodded as you stood up. You went to yours and his bedroom to get a pillow and a blanket and went back to the living room. You dropped both of them on the floor next to Bucky and sat back down on the floor. You laid down and covered yourself up.

“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky asks.

“I’m sleeping on the floor with you.” You say.

“You’re going to be uncomfortable.” He says.

“It’ll be worth it, because I’ll do anything for you. Even if it means sleeping on a hard floor.” You say.

Bucky smiles and leans over you to kiss you softly.

“I love you so much, babydoll.” Bucky whispers.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” You whispered back.

Bucky laid back down on the floor and protectively wrapped his arm around you before falling back to sleep.

That morning, you woke up to the sun shining through the living room window and the TV still on a low volume. You rolled over onto your back, seeing Bucky loving down at you with a fond smile on his face. He was propped up on his elbow.

“Good morning, handsome.” You smiled up at him.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Bucky smiles.

Bucky leans down and kisses you softly.

“How do you feel after sleeping on the floor?” He asks.

“My back hurts a little bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You say.

“I’ll give you a back rub if you want.” He suggests.

“That would be amazing, baby.” You say softly.

———

Over the next few days, you planned out how to make the floor more comfortable to sleep on. That’s when it hit you… blanket fort! Everyone loves forts, right? So you went to the store and bought a few decorative pillows, along with a comforter to put on the floor so it’s a little more comfortable. When you got home, you found the perfect blankets in the closet in yours and Bucky’s bedroom closet. You finished setting everything up in the living just as Bucky got home.

“Doll, I’m home!” Bucky says as he walks in the apartment.

“Living room!” You say.

Bucky tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and went to the living room to see a cute blanket fort on the floor.

“What’s all this?” Bucky asks.

“It’s a blanket fort, baby!” You say excitedly.

You walked over to your boyfriend and welcomed him home with a soft kiss on his lips.

“I thought it would be a good idea to make the floor more comfortable for the both of us if I’m going to be sleeping on the floor with you.” You say sweetly.

“You didn’t have to do this, babydoll.” Bucky says.

“I wanted to.” You say.

“Your back is going to hurt if you keep sleeping on the floor with me.” He says with worry in his voice.

“It’ll be worth it, babe, because I have an amazing who gives me incredible back rubs.” You say with a smile.

Bucky smiles widely. He kisses you passionately.

“You’re so sweet, doll.” He almost whispers.

You smiled and pecked his lips softly.

“Do you want to get in the fort with me?” You asked.

“Of course I do.” He answers softly.

You were first to get in the fort. Bucky followed you inside of it, laying down next to you. Alpine saw the fort and walked over to it. She curiously sniffed the blankets before stepping inside of the fort.

“Look who wants to join us.” You cooed.

“There’s daddy’s girl.” Bucky coos.

Alpine got on Bucky’s stomach and laid down. You guys gave her lovings.

“Thank you for this, babydoll.” Bucky says softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, honey. I’ll do anything for you.” You say softly.

“I love you so much.” He almost whispers.

“I love you too.” You whispered back.

-Bucky’s Doll

[navybrat817]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist - 2

Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass​ and dividers by @firefly-graphics​. Check them out! ​

Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.

🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves

Mini-Series and Universes

Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.

Winter and Fire  🔥💙

Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier. 

War and Peace 🔥

Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.

Soldat and Sparrow  

Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.

Night and Day  🔥

Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?

Dark and Light

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Black and White

Moon and Sun

Past and Future

The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞

You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.

Harmonious  🔥

Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.

Hollow  🔥

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Husband and Wife  🔥💙

Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.

Honeymoon Suite 🔥

Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.

Home Again  🔥

Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.

Honesty and Lies

Honor and Obey

Hope, Faith and Love

Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)

Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.

Around Your Throat  🔥

Summary:  Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.

Lay Me Down  🔥💙

Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.

Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU

You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?

A Plum a Day  🔥🛑

Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.

Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞

The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.

Give Me a Name

Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.

Almost Like Home

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)

Series Masterlist

Hold You Tight  🔥🛑💞

Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon

One Shots and Imagines (over 1k)

*Some fics may get additional parts

Run Like Hell  🔥🛑

Summary:  You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.

First and Last  🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙

Summary:  Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.

You’re My Obsession  🔥🛑💙

Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.

Best Man 🛑

Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.

Remind Me  🔥💙

Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Push and Pull  (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)

Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.

Prized Possession  🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)

Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.

A Debt to Pay  🔥💙💞 (Mob)

Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.

What Goes Around  🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)

Summary:  Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.

Send Me an Angel  🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)

Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.

Follow You Home (Stalker)

Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.

Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)

Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.

What Happens in Vegas  🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.

Within You  🔥🛑

Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.

Ficlets (under 1k)

Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky) 

Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.

Loyalty  🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)  

Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.

Collateral Damage  🔥🛑

Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.

Long Night

Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.

A Hero’s Reward  🔥 🛑

Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.

100 Word Drabbles

Secret Admirer

Secret Admirer - Part 2

Secret Admirer - Part 3

Secret Admirer - Part 4

Forced Bond 🔥🛑

Last Call  🔥🛑

His Sparrow  🔥🛑

Stalked

[thenameswinterfics]

BETWEEN DARK AND THE VOID

Chapter 1 - L'Appel Du Vide

Header by me | Dividers by @emmanexelle | 18+ banner by @inklore

READ IT ON AO3

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x MutantFemale!Reader Setting: Thunderbolts* Summary: Reluctantly, after a call you accept to help Bucky, your ex-boyfriend, with a task. What should have been a simple impeachment becomes a New York rescue mission, swallowed by a mysterious dark fog. After failing to save two innocent people, and overwhelmed by guilt from your dark past, you answer the call of The Void and abandon yourself to the uncertainty of nothingness. It's up to Bucky to save you and bring you back. Word Count: 6.2 K Chapter Warnings: Thunderbolts* spoilers, Reader is a mutant with the molecular reconfiguration powers, angst, hurt, mention of past trauma, typical canon violence, mention of torture (not described), Reader being mean at first, protective Bucky, no use of y/n. If I have missed some CW, please let me know and I'll add them!

AN: I'm back, this time for real! I never thought that a Marvel movie and my old obsession with Bucky Barnes would bring the writing muses back to me. This is the first fic after some months of writing's block, so apologize if it's not perfect. Many thanks to my wife @sylasthegrim for helping me with the title and to my love @bcksbarnes for beta reading, brainstorming through the fic outline, being my cheerleader and simply bear with me. You're the best, I love you with all my heart! I highly expect this to flop, so thank you for the few ones who will read it.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST | BETWEEN DARK AND THE VOID MASTERLIST

Appel du vide: "The call of the void". French term that explains an urge to do something dangerous even though you don’t intend to.

The streets of New York had never been so dark.

The skyscrapers that once towered over the city, imposing and gleaming, now disappeared into a veil of darkness, their figures swallowed up in an ominous embrace. Even cars and people seemed to suffer the same fate, falling into a dark hole that slowly, but dangerously, spread through the streets; swallowing everything in its path.

Above this dark fog, Void stood, now in full control of Bob, watching the chaos unfold beneath his feet, not blinking at the high-pitched screams of people running for safety. As he stood, like a god descending to earth to judge mankind, he slowly raised a hand, transforming people into powdery silhouettes stuck to the ground, soon to be moulded by the impending darkness as it moved swiftly towards the crowd.

It was like the scene of one of the most terrifying horror films: planes crashing next to buildings, piles of rubble falling from the sky and destroying everything in sight, cries of children looking for their parents. People ran with every ounce of strength they had left to escape this dark nightmare that was spreading across the city like a living shadow, swallowing up hope, light and every trace of normal life in its relentless path.

But this was the reality. And nothing would seem willing to stop this madness.

You paused under a porch with the rest of the Thunderbolts, your cheeks flushed as you placed your palm against the cold plaster of the wall, your chest rising and falling at a fast pace. You could hear Bucky muttering a few words as he watched the city go pitch black, Walker holding an unstable Alexei, ranting about losing Yelena and not forgiving himself. Ava was the only one silent, pondering her next move, and you were glad that your powers did not allow you to read people's minds, or you would go mad between your own thoughts and those of others.

You knew something was wrong the moment Bucky called you after months of silence; given the strained relations between you two, you were even surprised that the former Hydra assassin - now Brooklyn Congressman - had the time to dial your number and ask for your support with a mission.

You were different from the other heroes and villains who lived among humans — there was something deep and unpredictable in your genetics that set you apart. Most of them chose to become one voluntarily, undergoing genetic experiments to enhance their physical abilities. Others were tech geniuses who compensated for their lack of physical strength with their intellect, building armour and other technical equipment to support civilians. Then there were those who were simply highly trained agents and assassins, who had spent most of their lives honing their bodies into weapons for use for either good or evil.

But you? You were born with powers; your genes had been mutating naturally ever since you were in your mother's womb. There were no labs, no special training, no choices. It was just you, emerging with untamed powers cursing through your veins, marking you as someone superior to the humans.

In the same way you didn’t choose who to work with, you were too young to understand the wrong hands you had fallen into. You were a victim of your own father’s plans to rule the world, seeing you as both his cherished daughter and his precious weapon.

After years of being chained against your will, you became a free spirit, travelling the world and playing the role of the hero you'd never been, helping people and saving them from the clutches of enemies. No matter how strong or bizarre the villains were, whether they were dangerous aliens from another universe or little bullies tormenting the weak boy at school: you would be there, steady and vigilant, protecting every human in your sight. Whether this was your sudden calling, or simply a way to lift your shoulders from the burden of your past, orto keep your hands clean from the innocent blood spilled, was hard for you to know.

But as you listened to Congressman Barnes' voice - low and soft, which was how he usually spoke to you - rattle on about a crucial task for the New York citizens, you realised how high the stakes were.

He called it “impeachment”, a way to remove Valentina and her shady business away from the CIA and the government, and valid witnesses were still on the loose. Four former assassins who cleaned the mess the woman made, four valid testimonies that would make Val’s empire fall like a house of cards. Who better than you to know the best tactics to track down a group of former criminals and catch them?

A part of you wanted to refuse — you were “cleaned” from that shady business. And how could you ever work for the political machine that still had a price on your head, after being a former criminal yourself? The same twisted mechanism that drove a wall between you and Bucky? 

Yet, the shivers that ran down your spine when you heard Bucky's voice, the way his tongue rolled deliciously every time he called you 'doll', the pleading tone of his request, the puppy-dog steel-blue eyes that you could almost feel through the screen…it made it hard for you to decline.

And so there you were, stuck with your ex-boyfriend and a bunch of people you barely met less than 24 hours before, one of them lost into the darkness. 

Not the best situation to find yourself in the last moments of your life. 

“I’m going after her,” Ava said, breaking the silence as she marched quickly through the dark fog that continued to spread.

Bucky grabbed her arm with his vibranium hand, stopping her from carrying out her plan. “And then what?”

“If she walked there, she did it for a reason,” Ava answered quickly, nervously looking at the black fog spreading.

“What if she’s dead? What if there’s no coming back?” Bucky countered, the frustration and worry in his voice clear to hear. They had already lost Yelena, as well as many others who had fallen victim to Void’s actions. Deep down, he was regretful for not being the hero he wanted to be, and for letting down all the people who had applauded him just minutes before the disaster was unleashed.

It was a sight that reminded him of all the sleepless nights and looming nightmares, and of that damn little notebook with all those names marked in it, deluding him into believing he was absolved of sins he himself was not the main perpetrator of. 

Your heart ached to see him so defeated. So remorseful. 

"He's right, Ava," you said, standing up straight and joining the conversation. Your voice was still slightly breathless from the previous run. “Did we all see what happened to Yelena?” She was there with us, flesh and blood, with just a few scratches on her pretty face. And now? Puff! Vanished! Gone!” You grabbed your knees, allowing your lungs to catch as much air as they could before continuing. “Let’s get one thing straight. We lost. Just… how can we protect the people of this city if we aren’t able to defend ourselves? We can’t win against that thing. It’s over.”

A heavy silence fell over the group, and you almost cursed yourself for what you had said. Had they lifted the group's spirits? Of course not. 

“You know? You have many great qualities, but comforting people isn’t one of them” said Ava, breaking the silence once again. Her voice was decisive and carried a hint of disdain. Then, she faced Bucky again, her gaze sweeping over the city. “And about Yelena. What if she isn’t gone?”

“How do you know that?” Bucky replied, his voice a little lower as he resumed his argument with her. You turned your head to look for any human who had escaped the powers of the Void, and that was where your world stopped.

And Bucky's words were the last you heard.

Everything around you grew muffled and distant, as if you were sinking underwater. You could hear Walker muttering something to the team, but his words seemed to come from miles away. Alexei's voice was next, you were sure of it, but this time you couldn’t make out his exact words. A third voice called out to you - who was it this time? Ava? Bucky? You imagining Yelena’s witty comments over you? You couldn't tell - it sounded like distant echoes. 

You seemed gone, your mind disconnected from your body, travelling to another universe. But the truth was that something - or someone - caught your attention. 

Your gaze was drawn to a small figure in the distance, wriggling through the rubble, and the rest of the world faded away. You could hear and feel the child’s loud cries in your ears and in your heart. You could feel your eardrums ringing and your chest tightening in an uncomfortable vice. Next to the child was a woman who quickly scooped him up and ran as if her life depended on it. They were running away — or at least trying to — desperately seeking refuge to save themselves temporarily.

They were like the same civilians that you had tried to help before but failed to save, and who had now been sucked into the void. 

And suddenly your words ceased to make sense.

“We lost”, suddenly echoed in your head. “How can we protect the people of this city if we aren’t able to defend ourselves?” These words made you wrinkle your nose in disgust. How could you ever call yourself a hero when your mind was clouded by such pessimistic thoughts? Had you not sworn to protect the most vulnerable after leaving your brutal past behind?

The shame of your words gnawed at you, raw and relentless. Hearing the mother reassure her son, keeping her nerves steady despite the situation made you feel the urge to act again. They were a reminder of how hard they were still fighting. How they were still trying.

This gave you a new sense of hope. Maybe the war was far from over.

You quickly stood up, your hands trembling and adrenaline suddenly rushing through your veins as if your body had awoken from a paralysed state. Without thinking, you started running towards them, your mind filled with a new sense of purpose.

But your dreams of glory were cut short by a firm grasp on your arm and the coldness of metal beneath your leather tactical suit. You turned your gaze and saw Bucky watching you with a clenched jaw and a severe but worried look in his steel-blue eyes.

“Where do you think you're going, doll?” he asked in a low, gravelly voice, pulling you close with a firm grip. It was bruising, but not tight enough to cause pain.

“Let me go, Barnes!” you replied through clenched teeth, jerking your arm free. He loosened his grip and you stood facing each other while the rest of the group watched, ready to intervene if either of you lost your temper.

“There are still civilians out there who can be saved. I’ll go and keep them safe-”

“So what? Do you want to end up like Yelena? Disappearing inside that black thing and leaving no trace?” Bucky snapped at you, your sudden recklessness was the last thing he needed. There was no venom in his words, only concern and… Was it protectiveness what you felt?

“You've seen how devastated Alexei is. Do you think we can face another loss like that? Well, let me tell you something, doll. We can’t take another loss like that. I can’t bear the thought of losing you!”

You stared at him, stunned by his words. You noticed how his voice faltered when he said he couldn’t bear your absence, how his body trembled when he was overcome with anger and fear, and the apprehension lurking beneath his words. Suddenly, memories of your past together rushed wildly through your mind, making your breathing quicken and your heart hammer in your chest.

That was the Bucky you fell in love with. The damaged super soldier who struggled to find his place in the world. The man who would scream in the middle of the night, beads of sweat on his forehead, and you would rush to his side, cradling him in your arms and mentally curse Hydra for the damage they had done to him. The sweet, caring and overly protective man who would always watch your back on missions, check your wounds and kiss every inch of your bruised skin to ease the pain. The man who would not hesitate to sacrifice his life for you.

But that part of him died the moment he chose to run for Congress, hiding behind a cloak of righteousness that felt uncharacteristic. You could see it in the way he immersed himself in the country's twisted politics, pretending to read file after file and barely acknowledging your presence in the house. You could see it in the way he came home late and stressed from endless meetings, barely having time for you. And when you chose to run away and find your own place in the world? There were no messages, no missed calls and no attempt to trace you.

You became strangers. Never before had you considered going back to when life was easier for the two of you, when you would cuddle up together, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.

No, there was no time to regret what had been. The lives of ordinary people were more important than a futile argument.

“James,” you called him, his real name felt strange on your tongue. “I saw a mother and child running through the streets, trying to find shelter. They can’t save themselves if we stand here mulling over what to do.”

You saw Bucky moving around nervously, his hands firmly on his hips and his gaze darting between the black fog and you. “You will fail like all the others we have saved before. Like we failed to keep Yelena with us. If they're not dead, they're stuck in that nightmare from which there's no escape."

“We don’t know if we don’t try!” you countered back, frustration rising in your voice as you heard the few people’s screams die behind you, making you more and more nervous.

“Oh, so Miss ‘We-Fail-Because-We-Suck’ feels guilty and decided to return to action?” Walker joined the conversation, a hint of mockery in his serious voice. 

“I don't need you to remind me of what I said before, Walker, thank you,”' you replied, annoyed. “Stay here and mutter all you want, but those two people outside are still our last hope, and I won’t be the one to let them down.”

You approached Bucky with slow and deliberate steps, your hand raised in an attempt to cup his cheek but you stopped mid air, afraid that he would not welcome your gesture. It was the intensity of his gaze that made you want to give up, but then your hand was on his cheek, gently rubbing his stubble. 

“I’ve seen that look of yours, James. Every damn time. You think it’s because of you why we’re all stuck here, you feel guilty because you brought us with you and see the failure of your actions in our eyes,” you spoke to him, low and soft, as if you were talking to a frightened child, “You have done more than enough. You couldn't have foreseen that this would happen. You have all played your part. Now it's my turn. Let me make things right for once in my life.”

You were about to turn and leave the group when you felt a sudden warmth anchor you in place — a firm, slightly trembling hand covering yours. Bucky's hand held yours with an intensity you hadn't felt in years. In that breathless instant, his steel-blue eyes met yours, no longer guarded or distant. Behind them was something burning and pleading, like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, desperate to be heard before the wind carried everything away.

“I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself, doll,” Bucky replied firmly, his voice contrasting with the anxiety he was feeling. Drawing on the last of your mental strength, you slipped your hand out of his.

“I'm not going to ask your permission,” you said, turning your back on him. Before his hands could reach you again, you were gone, like sand carried by the wind. 

The city opened up before you, revealing a surreal scene: the dusty streets were strewn with debris and parts of places had been destroyed amid the chaos that had unfolded. But it was the deafening silence that struck you the most, so atypical for such a huge, lively city.

In the distance, you could hear the soft, quick footsteps of the remaining survivors, the gradually fading noise of cars, and several thuds that echoed in the air — a sign that they had been sent into that darkness with no apparent escape.

You were now standing in an open field, easily navigating the debris as you scanned the area for the mother and son running away in the distance. Maintaining your focus, you pressed your palms against the boulders, which shattered into many small pieces as they fell softly to the ground. Dust swirled in the air as you moved forward with fluid, measured movements, turning over large boulders and clearing the way for the civilians still fleeing.

From a young age, you had the ability to manipulate matter and turn it into whatever you pleased. You first demonstrated this ability when you were with your mother at home. A soft crackling sound came from the ceiling, startling you both, but it wasn’t serious enough to cause any alarm. Then the crack spread further and splinters of wood began to fall to the ground. When you saw that the entire beam was about to collapse, something inside you snapped.

At first, it felt as if time had stopped and the wooden beams were gracefully floating above your head. Then, as if in response to an unspoken command, you could feel the air humming around you. The matter melted and reformed as the splintered wood bent and flowed like liquid silk. The newly formed jagged shards fell to the ground like a thousand needles.

Your father called this a blessing. You called it a curse.

As you grew up, you learned about the dangerous paths you could take with your abilities, and your father forced you to do things you would later regret. You reshaped walls, floors and ceilings whenever you needed to break in unnoticed; you turned a broken chair into a weapon whenever there was a fight; and you were quick to disarm enemy weapons. You could still remember how easily you turned an endowed rifle into a puddle of dark liquid, giving you an advantage in close encounters.

It wasn't just the objects that could be mutated; the enhancements to your powers also enabled you to reshape human molecular structures. At first, the changes were subtle – a quick realignment of a shoulder or cauterisation of a wound. Then, under your father’s command, you were pushed further and soon learned how to break and reform bone density, alter muscle tissue and dull pain receptors in others to force compliance or enhance physical performance. 

You couldn’t count how many people you'd fixed before breaking them in the most vicious ways, some of them not surviving at your powers. You wore their pleading eyes and cries of help as a second skin, and the helplessness in their eyes was the purpose that made you escape from a reality that had become suffocating, that brought you only regret and endless nightmares.

And you swore to keep this part of your life buried forever.

After looking around, your gaze finally fell upon two figures stumbling around on the ground, recognizing them as the mother and child you had seen with the group earlier. Behind them, the black blanket advanced threateningly. It would only take a few minutes before they, too, would become black silhouettes on the ground. 

Mustering all your remaining strength you moved hurriedly, your adrenaline winning over your aching legs. Clearing the path of debris, you were quick to reach the two people, swiftly reaching for their arms and helping them up, before turning and running in the opposite direction of the fog.

“Keep going and don’t look back!” you called out, your voice slightly hoarse from the fatigue, “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

The woman blinked rapidly and placed her child safely at her side, a flicker of gratitude crossed her frightened gaze. This stirred something new inside you, filling your chest with a sense of contentment. You were used to people looking at you with fear and submission, as if you were a monster walking among them. But this woman thanked you silently with her eyes? It made you believe that you were finally doing something right in your life.

You took a deep breath before resuming your run. Controlling two bodies while sprinting through wreckage was no easy feat, but you didn’t let that deter you. Your resolve was hard to falter.

As you scanned the horizon, only one safe place emerged in your mind: the porch where the Thunderbolts were watching you - silent and still while holding their breath - the only place in the whole city untouched by the spreading darkness, the only place that could shelter two civilians before coming up with a plan to stop that madness.

You were both halfway through the run when you felt your lungs burning inside, the muscles in your body desperately pleading mercy - you felt the need to stop and give yourself some time. But you couldn’t, no. You won’t stop. 

This wasn’t about your endurance anymore. This was about safety.

And so you kept pushing harder with your legs, sprinting firmly but under control to prevent the people holding hands with you from falling during the path. Step by step, you could see the arch approaching on the horizon, and a sense of relief washed over you: you were almost there. One more little effort and your mission would be accomplished.

You could do this. You had to do this.

And then you felt it.

Thud.

A piercing, howling sound reached your ears, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment a part of you feels lighter, as if you were running faster. But it was when you turned back and checked the mother and child’s health that reality stuck at you as a loud smack in your face.

They were gone, turned into powdery silhouettes, stuck in the ground and sent who knows where.

The realisation hit you, fear crept into every bone in your body and, for a moment, you forgot how to breathe properly. Your body was completely spent after being pushed to its limit, and you felt your legs giving in, collapsing under your weight. 

The air felt heavy, your surroundings blurring into emptiness as every sound faded until complete silence was reached. But only one noise crept into your mind: an annoying little voice repeating a phrase that had been your mantra all your life.

You failed. 

The thought was sharp and cruel, gripping your heart like a vice and making you feel sick. 'You failed' repeated over and over again like a broken record, a merciless reminder that no matter how hard you tried to be a hero and do things right, you failed.

How could you protect the people of this city if you just kept getting them into trouble?

The dark fog continued to advance undisturbed, engulfing and reclaiming the mother and her son's shadows. The group's attempts to bring you back were in vain: shouting and inviting you to join them on the porch, you couldn’t hear them, too focused on the darkness reaching you. Soon, you would become part of that nothingness — a nothingness you thought belonged to you.

It was there that you raised your head, and you finally saw him clearly.

The Void.

The dark figure floated motionless in the air, looking at you with white spotlights that seemed to peer into your soul. You didn’t see his lips curl into a mocking smile, nor did you feel the judgement leaving his mouth – if you could have seen it – instead, he just looked at you as if waiting for your next move. 

He tilted his head slightly before finally speaking up. His voice was deep, and its measured pace reflected the weight of her words, which hung in the air like an approaching storm.

“Is that why you're so sad? We're all alone. Hopeless. Without redemption.”

And you never felt so understood in your life.

You were used and abused countless times, your mind bent by the will of people who wanted to use your powers for ulterior motives, and you were too young and scared to break free. 

By the time you realised what they had turned you into, it was too late. You looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise yourself: not your face, not your eyes, and certainly not your hands. Hands that you had washed almost maniacally every day, watching the water turn red in your eyes when it was actually crystal clear. You couldn’t find comfort in the silence; only the cries of men and women begging you to stop torturing them and leave them alone filled your ears. It was all too much for you to bear. How many of them had families who would never see them again? The same happy family that was ripped away from you when you were just a child, a victim of your father’s ambitions?

You thought Bucky could be your beacon in the storm. Hell, that man’s life was a horror story, and he could empathise with your sins and past mistakes. But you were too afraid to tell him about your past, afraid that he would turn you away after learning that you had committed crimes possibly worse than his own. Now your paths were divided by an invisible wall, and you had never felt so alone. 

Nothingness is all you have left.

Acting on impulse, you stood up and marched silently towards the dark fog. There was no wavering in your actions, no second thoughts. 

The Void was calling you, and you were eager to answer its call.

You heard someone -  a very familiar voice - shout at you to turn around. But this didn’t stop your silent march; your body moved towards the dark needles approaching you as if on autopilot.

All you had to do was take a step, and all your pain and remorse would disappear with you.

While hearing a muffled, raw, broken scream, your foot stepped onto the black ground.

And your body moulded into the darkness.

Bucky felt as if his world had collapsed in on itself. Destroyed, disintegrated in the same way his own body had turned to dust years ago when Thanos claimed half of the population's lives by snapping his fingers.

This time, however, the Avengers would not be there to save the day. No one would build a time machine and retrieve six powerful stones, nor would anyone snap their fingers and bring back all the people swallowed by the void.

You were gone, just like Yelena. Just like everyone else.

His mind short-circuited, the guilt of not being able to save New York’s people mingled with the regret of not being able to stop you and your selfless actions. Countless images and what-ifs crossed his thoughts — what if he had followed you and pulled you away sooner? What if he had been more insistent and said no? What if he had been strong enough to counter your stubbornness, to hold you in his arms and never let you go again? 

But there were no answers in the echoes of what-ifs. Only silence.

Unlike his former self, Bucky was never one for many words. His time in the clutches of Hydra was enough to break his spirit, strip him of his confidence, and rob him of his cheerfulness. All that remained were the emotional scars that would never fade. He became a shell of his former self: a grumpy, introverted 110-year-old man who believed that pain was an inevitable part of life and was more inclined to expect negative things than positive ones.

Since being released, he had spent most of his days trying to make amends and find a way to redeem himself. He would sit in the eerie quietness of his apartment, muttering about a past that still haunted him, and about the ghosts of all the people he had murdered and who came to visit him in his sleep. Then he would wake up with short, frantic gasps, his gaze fixed on an empty spot, while the sound of the television in the background tried — in vain — to calm his racing heart. 

Bucky slipped into a daily routine that he struggled to adjust to: mandatory therapy sessions in the morning, undertaken more out of a sense of duty than for relief; solo missions throughout the day to erase the names of people on his list who wanted closure. Loneliness in the evening and nightmares at night. Each day was the same as the previous one, and the day after that would be the same again.

But you? You were the one who shattered his monotonous routine.

You slipped quietly into Bucky's life and became the spark that ignited it. Despite the aura of mystery that wrapped you like a veil, you gave him a sense of purpose, helping him to break free from his endless cycle of pain and self-loathing. With you, he rediscovered the meaning of love and being loved. His fear of being touched melted away beneath the warmth and delicacy of your touch. His body trembled and demanded more, his flesh burned under your fingerprints. Whenever he felt insecure, you would remind him that every part of him was perfect, kissing and adoring the scars on the joint of his metal shoulder — the part of him he disliked the most, but which you were immediately drawn to. 

But your love was not enough to appease his desire to help others and redeem his past, and when the world of politics opened up, something between you cracked. Soft whispers of love turned into heated arguments and nights curled up in bed together became a distant memory. You grew further and further apart until you disappeared without trace. 

In the silence of his feigned apathy, Bucky’s heart was breaking; your distance was far worse than the torture inflicted by Zola and his men. Relief filled his chest when you agreed to help him, albeit reluctantly, and part of him promised that, once Valentina was out of the picture, he would take you in his arms and kiss every inch of your face, murmuring endless apologies against your skin. His arms would wrap around your waist as he promised that he would never push you away again, in the hope that you would both have the restart you deserve.

But now The Void had taken you, trapping you in his dark fog, and with you, every possibility of reconciliation had disappeared.

Bucky could feel his legs trembling beneath him. If it were not for Alexei’s strong arms supporting him, he would have fallen to the ground. The group stood in silence, watching as Bucky’s face contorted with desperation and misery. His blue eyes were glassy and devoid of light, and his mouth moved involuntarily, whispering apologies that could not be heard. It was a sign that he had given up, that all your efforts to stop Bob were in vain, and that giving him the whole city was the only solution to this never-ending puzzle.

Just when he felt he had hit rock bottom, a glimmer of hope took him by surprise. His head turned slightly towards the darkness, and he was struck by a sudden epiphany. 

His mind darted back to the conversation he had had with the Thunderbolts just minutes earlier, before your stubbornness had won out over your rational thinking and led you to your suicide plan. He remembered how Walker had approached him and Ava, admitting that she was right and that there was indeed something lurking in the darkness. The former Captain America recalled the dread he had felt after touching Bob, reliving for a bit the period in his life when everything had fallen apart, when he had failed both as a father and a husband.

A part of him was partially relieved that this could not be the end, that somehow you and Yelena could be saved. It was the reviving of the past that frightened him, more yours than his. Bucky had always been unaware of your history, having confessed at your behest your despondency at reliving certain stages of your life. He feared what you might be forced to witness and how you would change after returning to him. How broken you would be. 

With a newfound strength Bucky stood up, his gaze resting on the dark fog, which had almost engulfed most of the city.

“She must be trapped somewhere there,” Bucky muttered with his jaw clenched, drawing the group's attention. “I have to get her out of there.”

Ava was the first to respond, almost nodding in agreement with his idea. “Thank you,” she said. “Someone who supports my plan!”

“So, what’s the plan? We go in, find Yelena and our mutant friend, and then what?” Walker mused, his hands placed on his lips. He watched Bucky moving his first steps, almost leaving the porch and facing the fog alone.

“Stay there. I’m going to drag her out of this and we’ll be back,” he growled, his eyes flaring with anger and determination: your safety was his priority. 

“What!?” echoed Ava and Walker together, their faces contorted in dismay at the former Winter Soldier’s sudden declaration. 

“Hey, hey, slow down a bit” Alexei interrupted, wrapping his strong hand around Bucky’s vibranium shoulder and forcing the ex-assassin to turn and look at him. “I know you’re the mighty Winter Soldier, and you’re cool enough to be unstoppable and kick everyone’s ass along the way. But you can’t face this alone. We must stick together as the Thunderbolts!”

Bucky looked down and his jaw tightened as he absorbed the Red Guardian’s words. Although temporarily blinded by his protective instincts towards you, he had to admit that Alexei was right. He could not face the threat alone if the enemy had expanded their powers on a large scale. 

He closed his eyelids, inhaling deeply before resting his gaze on the remaining team, looking at them with a solemn expression.

“We'll go there together, then. Try to find Yelena once you’re inside. I’m going to find my girlfriend, and then we’ll manage to meet up together. Is all that clear?” he said solemnly, the word “girlfriend” still spilling easily from his mouth despite your relationship having ended years ago.

At first, silence was their answer. The group quickly exchanged glances, as if looking for implicit confirmation from each other. Then, after moments that seemed like an eternity, the three looked at Bucky, approving his plan as a new sense of hope lifted the group’s spirit. 

Walker turned his gaze towards the dark hole and took the first steps towards it. “Try not to get stuck there, Bucky,” he said dryly, the super soldier’s faint smirk was his only answer.

“Let’s go, Thunderbolts!” Alexei roared in support, his spirits lifted again by the slightly increased possibility of seeing Yelena alive.

All four of them entered the ghostly city, the fresh air of New York caressing their skin for the last time before darkness consumed them. Ava was the first to step inside, her body being claimed as soon as her feet touched the black ground. Walker and Alexei followed, marching with no hesitation as their bodies turned into shadows and were claimed by the darkness.

When it was Bucky’s turn, he hesitated at first. He stood still and watched the dark needles advance quickly, covering the shadows of his friends and then going to claim him.

He lifted his gaze slightly, looking into the heart of the darkness. Countless images of his past flashed before his eyes and his spirit was weakened by the thought of reliving a past that he had spent his whole life trying to redeem, wearing its scars like a second skin.

But he remembered the purpose of his actions, and a new wave of determination pushed him into action. He would rewatch his torture and brainwashing, he would fight his former self as the Winter Soldier, he would never let the souls of the people he had tortured and brainwashed leave him, haunting him with their desperate cries and laughing at him every time he woke up trembling on the floor after another nightmare. 

If walking back from that darkness meant pulling you out from there, then no trauma would be able to stop him from reaching his purpose. 

Bucky took a deep breath before continuing his advance, his feet almost touching the black floor as he entered the tunnel.

And after taking the last step, his world went black.

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.7

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @volklana @sylasthegrim @watermeezer

[vivalas-vega]

fine line / part one

look at me trying new things !!! dipping my toe into a new fandom - long time lurker, first time contributor. first four parts are written, I just wanted to get this out and get some feelers and feedback. this is gonna be a big one, i'm working very hard !! please please please, let me know what you think (gonna update the header - just wanted to put something for now lol)

fine line / mcu x reader / part one

summary: Three kids from Brooklyn. A war that asks too much. And a woman with secrets stitched into every seam.

also - seems obvious bc of the title but fine line by harry styles is the song for this fic, if you like listening while reading that should def be on your playlist (maybe I’ll make a playlist, I’m undecided)

to be tagged in future works, please turn on post notifications for @vegaslibrary

word count: 2.5k

warnings: (not specific to this part, but for the series as a whole. this fic is 18+, you are responsible for your own media consumption). language, angst, drinking, smut, violence, references (and descriptions) of bucky's abuse within hydra, canon-typical situations - this is the mcu y'all, shit will get a little crazy, and a little devastating

Summer, 1943

“Come on, doll,” Bucky sighed, hand on your waist gripping firm to try and stop you but you just gave him one of those looks that was so classically you. A little annoyance, a little mischief. “A double date with Steve and Bonnie isn’t really what I had in mind for our last night.” 

His hand shifted just slightly, not enough to be considered indecent for how publicly you were situated, but enough towards your hip that you knew what he meant, what he wanted. “There’ll be plenty of time for what you’re suggesting later, Sergeant Barnes,” you replied, the smirk on your lips completely undercutting how innocent you sounded. You pushed him closer to Steve, forcing them to soak up as much conversation as they could before Bucky left at first light tomorrow morning. 

“I don’t see what the problem is. You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York.” Bucky said. “You know there’s three and a half million women here?” He was trying to make him feel hopeful and optimistic about his departure but you and Steve both knew it was fruitless. Bucky was leaving, leaving the two of you behind to go fight the war. It had been just you three since you were children, against the world, and your trio was about to fracture… in ways the boys didn’t even know. 

“I’d settle for just one,” Steve sighed and you flashed him a bright smile, trading places with Bucky and looping your arm through his. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’ve taken care of that, isn’t it?” you asked, waving to Bonnie in the distance, waiting for you all just at the entrance.

“What did you tell her about me?” he asked apprehensively.

“Oh, only the good stuff, Steve,” you replied, leaning closer, “and there was a lot to tell.” You made introductions and nudged him forward, trying to push him out of his shell but Steve didn’t do well with letting the rest of the world see who he was. You and Bucky were larger than life, and so was he according to you, but you two seemed to be the only people who knew that.

Howard Stark took the stage—a technology man so ahead of his time you half-believed he was a time traveler. You considered yourself a fairly practical woman, but even you couldn’t help feeling giddy as he spoke of a flying car. You watched in awe as he made it hover above the ground and you turned to face Bucky when you heard him mutter holy cow, with an awe struck smile on your face and delight in your eyes.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek before turning to say something to Steve, who had disappeared at some point in the last five minutes, causing him to look around confused. You gave a sad smile, pointing toward the recruitment center. Bonnie didn’t notice, still marveling at Stark’s other inventions.

“I’m not sure why he wants to face the rejection time and time again,” Bucky said, a mix of disappointment and sympathy in his tone.

“He’s a dedicated man,” you said. “It’s a fine trait in what would make a fine soldier… I just wish they could see that.”

“Well, not everyone can see the world as you do, doll,” he said, pulling the door open for you. “But it’d sure be a good thing if they did.” You frowned slightly when you found Steve, standing in front of a mirror meant to show the person in front of it in a full military uniform… and Steve’s eyes rested where the neck was supposed to be. You thought the world of him, as did Bucky, and you hated how much him and everyone else fixated on his size. You always said a man was measured not by his stature, but by what his heart contained, though Steve could only hear you say it so many times before he stopped believing it.

“Come on,” Bucky said, clapping him on the shoulder and Steve turned, almost a little embarrassed at being caught in front of the display. “You’re kind of missing the point of a double date, we’re taking the girls dancing.”

“You go ahead,” he replied, stepping away from the mirror with his hands in his pockets. “I’ll catch up with you.”

“You’re really going to do this again?” Bucky asked with a disapproving look and you shot him one of your own.

“Well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.”

“As who? Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch you… or worse, they’ll actually take you.” You gave Steve a sympathetic look, you’d watched him torture himself with this since the war began, and it broke your heart.

“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this-”

“This isn’t some back alley, Steve. It’s a war,” Bucky shot back and you sighed, realizing Bucky’s little side mission before he met up with you was pulling Steve out of another fight.

“I know it’s a war.”

“Why are you so keen to fight? There’s lots of other important jobs-”

“What do you want me to do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?”

“Yes! Why not?” Bucky was exasperated and you let out another sigh. This is how it always was, it was you in the middle of them constantly… because you could so clearly see both sides. Bucky had points, but so did Steve. 

“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Bucky. Even Button is doing more than me,” he protested and your eyes darted around… of all the places you didn’t want your laundry aired, a recruitment center was pretty high on that list.

“Steve,” you nearly whispered, a warning. You didn’t need any attention on you or what you did for the war, the less people knew the safer you’d be and the better you could carry out your tasks.

“Sorry,” he muttered, giving you an apologetic look. “Men are laying down their lives, Bucky. I’ve got no right to do any less. It’s not just about me.”

“Right, cause you’ve got nothing to prove,” Bucky shot back and the air grew more tense around you. You wished they wouldn’t fight, not when you had a gut feeling things would never be like this again. Tomorrow Bucky would ship off to war, you’d disappear into your work, and Steve… you didn’t know what Steve would do. This moment could have been the last where you were all still just kids from Brooklyn.

“Come on, aren’t we goin’ dancing?” Bonnie called out, lingering near the entrance.

“Yeah, we are,” Bucky answered, a slight edge to his tone as he tried to pull you away but you planted your feet.

“James,” you said, voice firm. “Not like this.” You gave him a look and he glanced back to Steve, letting out a sigh as he conceded. You were right, as always.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid until I get back,” he said, a teasing lilt to his tone as he fixed the distance he’d created just a minute ago.

“How can I?” Steve asked. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” You cracked a smile, watching Bucky pull him in for a hug, both of them muttering something like punk and jerk. “Be careful,” he added when Bucky pulled away and you could see the longing in his eyes. Longing for his best friend’s safety, longing to go with him.

“Stop by the shop this week, okay?” you asked, leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek and he nodded half-heartedly. “Don’t disappear on me too, Rogers,” you prodded, keeping your tone light and he gave you his full attention, promising he would come by before you ran to catch up with Bucky. Perhaps it was a low blow pulling on his heartstrings like that, but you felt you had to. You didn’t have much time to make sure he’d be alright without Bucky… without you. You all had jobs to do, and as soon as Bucky shipped out yours would be your focus, you just didn’t know what Steve’s focus would be.

You and Bucky burst through the door like you were outrunning the end of the world, clumsily making your way inside your small apartment without letting your lips stray from his. Your back hit the wall with a soft thud and he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck as his hands roamed everywhere, trying to memorize the feel of you as best he could and you were doing the same. You wanted his touch burned into your skin, the memory lodged in every fiber of your being.

He groaned when you grabbed him by the lapel of his coat, one you’d made for him, and pulled him back to your lips, kissing him with such an intensity that his grip on your waist became bruising. Good, you thought. Give me something to hold onto when you’re gone. The sound that tumbled from your mouth when he hoisted you off the ground to set you on the table shot straight through him and he couldn’t get his hands to move fast enough as they pulled your coat down your arms and began working on the buttons of your dress.

Each inch of skin he exposed made him crumble for you, and his hands landed on either side of your neck to pull you back into a kiss, demanding and hungry… possessive. The slide of his tongue against yours melted you into him, sent tingles to the tips of your toes…. Your fingers were more controlled as they undid his belt, more graceful than his movements had been but the way you tugged it off and threw it on the floor was anything but. You slid your fingers through the loops and pulled him flush against your core, softly biting his bottom lip as he groaned into your mouth.

“God, Button,” he whispered, pushing the hair from your face. “You tryin’ to kill me before I ship out?” 

“Maybe just incapacitate you,” you replied and he shook his head before his lips traced a path along your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he lingered just above your heart and when he lifted his eyes to meet yours they were dark, unreadable.

“You’re gonna vanish, aren’t you?” It was barely above a whisper but it felt loud as it rattled through your ears, heart still thudding rapidly and his hands still holding you like you might vanish right now. You’d grown so still you felt a little like glass beneath his fingers but he pressed on anyway. “I know what you’re planning, you might be able to fool Steve, but not me.”

You didn’t answer, just let your hands slide up to rest on his chest… not quite pushing him away, but not pulling him closer either. “You think I’m stupid?” he asked, catching your chin and pulling your gaze to him… not forceful, but insistent. “You’ve been wrapping things up for weeks, meeting people you won’t name. Soon as I got my papers, you started pulling away. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Bucky-”

“I get it. You want to do more. You’ve always wanted to do more.”

“So please don’t fight me on it,” you replied, soft and sure. “Not tonight.”

He swallowed hard, jaw flexing as he considered his next words. “I’m not trying to stop you, I just-” he exhaled sharply. “I don’t know how to walk out of here tomorrow and feel like it’s really you that’s leaving me.”

“Because it’d be so easy if it were you leaving me?” you asked as you ran your fingers through his hair and he didn’t have an answer, because it wasn’t easy either way. “Forget tomorrow. Just be here. Just… be here.” 

There was nothing else to say, and he didn’t know how to deny you anything, especially not when you pleaded. His eyes scanned your face for a moment and his grip on your face squeezed, just slightly, before he pulled you back into him, kissing you with a new purpose. Now, it wasn’t just him that had to make it back home to you, you had to make it back home to him, too. He didn’t like those odds, both of you being out there.

He pulled you up and helped you pull off the rest of your clothing before pushing you back onto the bed and settling above you, hands taking in every inch of flesh they could. Each movement felt loaded, a whisper of I love you, of I miss you, of please don’t break my heart. Each push of his body into yours filled you like fire and you wished you could stay here like this with him forever… that there wasn’t a war you were both so determined to fight, that you didn’t have to worry about the world outside your apartment door. You wished you lived in a world where the only thing that mattered was you and Bucky in this bed, giving and taking everything you had to offer.

You laid curled against his side, head resting on his chest and listening to the steady thump of a heart that you knew belonged to you. Your fingers moved idly along his skin, as if you were trying to stitch something into him. “I keep thinking about everything we’re never gonna get.”

Bucky was quiet for a long moment. His hand moved slowly along your back, like he could calm the ache out of you one inch at a time. “Like what?”

“Sunday mornings,” you said. “Stupid arguments over curtains. You kissing me in a grocery store, and it not meaning goodbye.”

He smiled, a little sad, “I would kiss you in a grocery store.”

“You’d kiss me anywhere, Sergeant.” you teased, voice thick with affection.

“True,” he chuckled before you fell back into silence. You could feel sleep trying to pull you under, your body exhausted from the weight of his touch, the weight of what it had meant, but you fought it… wanting another minute. Another ten. Another twenty.

“Promise me something,” you said, your voice smaller than you meant it to be.

He looked down at you. “Anything.”

“Leave before I wake up.”

“Button,” he started, already knowing he’d barely be able to stand leaving you as it was.

“Don’t make me watch you walk away,” you murmured. The pain of it lived in every word. “I won’t be able to take it.” He stared up at the ceiling like it might hold a better answer, jaw tense. “Promise me,” you prompted and you saw it break in his eyes. That familiar crack, the one that always came right before he gave in… because it was you. It would always be you. There wasn’t a single thing you could ask of him that he wouldn’t do, even if it broke his own heart.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”  You stared at him for a long moment, memorizing every sharp line, every soft crease, like your eyes could hold onto him when your arms couldn’t.

You pulled him back into you, losing yourself in him again. There would never be enough kisses. Never enough I love you’s. Never enough of this.

But it had to be.

This one night had to hold all the ones you’d never get.

Time was already moving on without you. But for now, it was just him. Just you. Just this.

And that would have to be enough.

next part

[avram-120]

Scenarios

How the following characters would react to / help a reader with bad (recurring) back pain

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Kurt Wagner, Logan Howlett, Bigby Wolf, Dick Grayson

Notes: My back is killing me yet again so I'm writing this for me more than anything. Once again reader is kept as neutral as possible. English is not my first language. Feel free to send in any requests no matter how wild.

Bucky Barnes.

After so many years spent with HYDRA, and just everything he's been through, he's definitely had to deal with some sort of pains / aches regarding his back or joints. So he's probably the best when it comes to helping. He'll run reader a nice warm bath to help their muscles relax so their back wouldn't ache as much, and carry them to and from the bathroom to make sure they wouldn't have to put too much pressure on their back, making sure reader is nicely tucked in, back as straight as possible while laying down to try and minimize the strain on it and help them get better faster.

Kurt Wagner

He's calmly panicking? Or anxiously being calm? It's hard to tell really. The back pain had started a little after the two hung out so Kurt couldn't help but feel like it was his fault and he'd done something wrong by making them overwork themselves or something. He was a little clueless about how exactly to help reader, but he eventually settled on insisting on teleporting them around if they really needed to get up and move, otherwise making sure they were on bed rest until they felt better.

Logan Howlett

The old man would be getting back pains himself if it wasn't for his adamantium skeleton. So whilst not having really experienced it much himself he sure as hell would be lectured on how to deal with it by a lot of people around him 'just in case'. Well looks like the case had finally showed itself, as reader was sat face down in bed, refusing to move because the slightest movement would only make the stabbing pain in their lower back worse. It didn't take long for Logan to spring into action, grabbing a heat pack and placing that on their lower back to help loosen the muscles before slowly slipping reader's shirt off (with their consent of course) beginning to carefully but precisely massage different oils into their back, hoping to release some of the pain.

Bigby Wolf

(can you tell I have a type?)

The sheriff himself had his fair share of experience with pain in general. And after that header out the window while fighting with the Woodsman he sure as hell got used to dealing with it on a relatively regular basis. And what he found that helped quite a bit was pressure. Surprisingly enough. So you'll best believe that this man already has a bunch of weighted blankets around the house. Ready in case reader's or even his own back pain pops up again. On days where both of them don't feel so great they'll just cuddle up together under the blankets, Bigby's hand tracing lazy circles, and lines, and shapes across reader's back, applying small amount of pressure to hopefully help.

Dick Grayson

We've all seen how flexible this man is. I doubt he gets much back pain if it's not due to an injury, especially since he takes stretching before doing anything too crazy seriously. So what does he decide is the best way to deal with the random back pain you ask? Stretching. Obviously if reader is in obvious agonising pain, unable to move type of thing he will leave the teasing and the insisting for another day. Just taking his time on helping them in other ways if that's the case. But if it's just a slight ache that won't go away? Oh, this man is making them try every single stretch he can think of. Some for his own entertainment, of course.

[blazewoodss]

HELLO STEX TUMBLR!!!!

Have you ever been sitting there, thinking about those wonderful trains we all love so much, and then thought ‘hm, I wonder how much the four 2024 London revival freight trucks would weigh as actual train cars theoretically’?

Well boy oh boy do I have the document for you!

I have spent a little bit of time (10+ hours) pulling together a Google doc with a bunch of “research” that I’ve done into what I think the four revival trucks (Porter, Lumber, Slick, and Hydra) would weigh potentially as actual rolling stock! I’d say it was for fun but idk if it actually remained fun working on it close to the end.

Regardless, for anyone interested in reading over it all, it has been linked!

For anyone not interested in reading and is just willing to trust my math and web browsing and decisions, here is a screenshot of the final conclusion page listing the possible tare weight and total weight at max load!

Please read over the lengthy disclaimer page though if possible, I do make a bunch of important notes there that you should consider!!

Thank you for hearing me out, I hope this information is somewhat useful for you all :)

[just-jamesbarnes]

INTRO ─── 〃☆ Зимний солдат ☆ James Barnes

Она у меня. Найди его.

ERA. ─── 〃☆ Current Era is — TF&TWS (The Falcon & The Winter Soldier) lore and backstory is up until this point, we have progressed.

DESC. ─── 〃☆ Just call me James, no one calls me Bucky/Buck, at least not anymore. I haven’t heard that name in years. I’m sort of on the run so if I can’t reach you then I’m probably lying low, just for a little bit longer. I’ve got Hydra and the Government on my ass for something I didn’t even do but it’s not like they’d listen to me. I’m trying my hardest to make a new life, something different from what Hydra gave me. It’s a little hard when I barely remember my name, or how the economy works, or how to get a job. I can’t even put my real birthday on anything. (Trying to explain that I’m well over 90 is too much work.).

BOUNDARIES. ─── 〃☆ No racist, homophobic, or just overall disrespectful shit. Anything that’s like that or close to harassment will get you blocked immediately. If you have drama deal with it elsewhere, I am not one for drama. If there’s a problem dm me on here or discord. Don’t say the Winter Soldier activation words unless I’ve given you permission, it’s a quick way to get blocked. It makes me uncomfortable. You can tag me in pretty much anything, I don’t care about being tagged. Interact with me for anything, it’s fun, I promise. || Bucky is now open for shipping dynamics. Stucky, SamBucky, WinterWidow or Oc x Bucky, are all open, I don’t mind.

ANON. ─── 〃☆ You can be anon or tag yourself, I don’t care. Unless you have an anon emoji, you’re likely going to be called “doll” , “hun” or “sweetheart”. If you’re uncomfortable with it, please let me know. Anon emojis are always fun, I will keep a chart so that I remember you guys and what to call you.

ANON LIST. ─── 〃☆ 🍒, 🐇, 🍓, 🔮, 🖤, 🍄

(headers by @jesperwolf and Pinterest)

FAMILY. ─── 〃☆ Winter Dad & SpiderSon @totallyspiderman

─── 〃☆ Grumpy & Sunshine @the-real-ivy-stark

OPEN RP. ─── 〃☆ Last | Recent | Next

[sharp-silver4795]

Creepypasta Master List

All the major shit I’ve written for Creepypasta!!

General creepypasta MasterList. There are links to more specific ones at the end. Shitposts are not included, assume they all have content warnings.

Head-cannons (General/All)

New Year’s Celebrations ; Mistletoe Kiss ; Halloween Celebrations ; Valentine’s Gifts ; Gambling

What languages they speak ; Height/Weights ; Nationalities ; Ages Part 1 ; Ages Part 2 ; Speech Quirks ; Insomnia

Injuries ; Phobias ; Hand Dominance ; Bad Habits ; Satisfaction ; Hobbies ; Subcultures ; Music Tastes ; In a Band ;

Silly Contact Names ; Signatures ; Random

Mascgals ; Femboys ; Sexualities (WIP) ; Friendships ; Relationships ; Monster “Pets” ;

Design claims (BEN, Jessie, Liu, Jeff, and EJ)

The Mansion (General)

Rules ; General stuff ; Proxies ; Proxy HC Dump ; Money ; Adjustments

Dungeon (General)

General stuffs ; Residents ; Rooms ; In Detail

More MasterLists 💜

Mansion, Dungeon

Two and a Half Mercenaries (Jeff, Liu, and Jessie)

Merciful Monster (Eyeless Jack/Eashar)

Death of Hydra, NSFT

Divider Creds: Sister-Lucifer

Header Creds: MEEEE!!

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hiii! Can I please request a husband!Bucky x wife!fem!reader where Bucky, Steve, and Y/n had been best friends since childhood, and Bucky and Y/n started dating and eventually got married (they were high school sweethearts🥹). When Bucky fell off the train, Hydra came to her door, pretending to be the soldiers that worked with Bucky and asked her to come with them by lying that they’d take her to Bucky who had been “injured” in a battle. Hydra brainwashed Y/n, much like they did Bucky, injected her with the super serum and turned her into their own personal spy, taking her in and out of cryo like they did with Bucky. Much like Bucky she worked in the shadows and was trained to perfection, so even when she was sent into SHEILD to help infiltrate it, Steve never noticed or recognized her, let alone even saw her. All Steve knew (after definitely researching what happened to her after him and Bucky were gone), was that she disappeared shortly after Bucky and Steve “died” in 1945 and was never seen again. But he finds out her and Bucky are alive and brainwashed in CA: Winter Soldier, and after Bucky joins the Avengers, Steve, Sam, and Bucky all work to free Y/n 🥺 When they do however, she doesn’t remember Bucky or Steve, even after the brainwashing is broken? (Bucky and Steve would be heartbroken) And her and Bucky fall in love all over again?

Forever Sweethearts » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!40s!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader with Pre Serum Steve Rogers, Husband/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Spy!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and the Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky are high school sweethearts. HYDRA shows up as Army soldiers at your house to tell you that Bucky is injured, but in reality they brainwash you and turn you into a spy. Years later when Bucky joins the Avengers, he gets you back with Steve’s and Sam’s help, but sadly you don’t remember him. When you do, you and Bucky end up falling in love all over again.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, HYDRA, brainwashing, violence, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the lovely request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

A/N #2: Italic texts are flashbacks.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Gif credits go to the creators.

1943

You, Bucky, and Steve are childhood best friends. You three are inseparable. You guys do everything together. You and Bucky fell in love while you guys were in high school. He proposed to you the day you, Bucky, and Steve graduated from high school and you two got married that Summer.

Right now, you’re in an alley with Steve. You’re cleaning him up cause he got into a fight with a guy bigger than him.

“Stevie, I told you not to fight that guy.” You say while wiping blood off his nose.

“He wouldn’t shut up.” Steve says.

“So you resorted to violence?” You asked.

“Maybe…” He says.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend and continued to clean him up.

“What happened this time?” Bucky asks as he walks in the alley.

“Stevie fought a guy bigger than him.” You tell your husband.

“I swear you like getting punched, man.” He says, looking at Steve.

“In his defense, the guy wouldn’t be quiet during the Army film.” You say.

You threw away the tissue in the trash can next to you before properly greeting your husband. You gave him a kiss on his lips.

“You look incredibly handsome in uniform.” You complimented in a flirtatiously.

“Thank you, doll.” Bucky smiles.

“Did you get your orders?” Steve asks, chiming in.

“The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes.” Bucky says.

Steve looks down and sighs sadly. He’s been trying to enlist in the 107th.

“It’s ok, Stevie.” You hugged him. “You’ll get in eventually.” You say positively.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Steve says.

“You’re welcome.” You say.

“Now, stop being sad and let’s go.” Bucky says.

“Go where?” Steve asks.

Bucky hands Steve a newspaper that says something about the Stark Expo. You looked at it too.

“Stark Expo.” Steve read aloud.

“Sounds interesting.” You say.

“That’s why we’re going, doll face.” Bucky says.

You giggled and Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. When the three of you got to the Stark Expo, you guys decided to walk around for a little bit.

“So when do you leave?” Steve asks.

“Tomorrow.” Bucky answers.

“No. That’s too soon.” You say.

Tears filled your eyes when you realized you only have tonight to spend time with your husband before he leaves for the Army tomorrow.

“I know, doll.” Bucky pulls you into a hug. “Look at the bright side, I’ll be home before you know it.” Bucky says.

“You promise?” You asked and sniffled.

“I promise.” He promises, kissing your wedding ring.

Every time Bucky promises you something, he kisses your wedding ring, which always makes you smile.

“I love you, sweetie.” You say softly and kissed him.

“I love you too, babydoll.” Bucky says softly, kissing you back.

———

1945

Bucky has came home a few times since he’s joined the Army. You two always send each other letters, telling each other how much you two love and miss each other. You two try not let the long distance bother you guys.

You were cleaning yours and Bucky’s house to keep yourself busy when you heard a knock on the door. You stopped what you were doing to see who it is. Two Army -HYDRA- officers were on your doorstep.

“Are you Y/N Barnes?” One of them asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

“We work with your husband, Sergeant James Barnes, and we’re sorry to tell you this, but he’s been injured in battle.” The other soldier tells you.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Your mind made you think the worst.

“How- How injured is he?” You asked.

“Enough to get him in the med bay.” The fake Army officer said.

“He asked us to pick you up and take you to him.” The other fake Army officer said.

“Yes please. Take me to my husband.” You say.

Little did you know that this was part of HYDRA’s plan after Bucky fell off the train. They’re going to take you to their base, brainwash you, inject you with the Super Soldier serum, take you in and out of the cryo chamber, and turn you into their own personal spy.

“Which one of these rooms is my husband in?” You asked as you walked through the hallway with the two HYDRA agents.

“He’s not in any of these rooms, Mrs. Barnes.” One of the HYDRA agents says.

Then where is he?” You asked.

You didn’t miss the way they exchanged looks with each other before looking at you with grins on their faces.

“Where is my husband?” You asked again.

Before you knew it, they grabbed your arms and led you to a lab. They forcefully pushed you down in a chair and strapped your arms and legs down. Then they left the lab. You tried to free yourself from the restraints, but they were too tight. That’s when a man in a suit and a man in a white lab coat walked in the lab.

“Hello, Mrs. Barnes. I’m Arnim Zola.” Zola greets you.

“Where the hell is my husband?” You asked for a third time, completely bypassing his introduction.

“He’s going to become something for our upcoming project. As for you, you’re going to become something for another one of our projects.” He explains.

Zola looks at the man in the lab coat and gave him a nod. The man in the lab coat walked over to you with an IV needle. Your eyes went wide and your heart began to pound. You wish you could break free of the restraints, but you couldn’t. The IV needle got inserted into your arm. You yelped when the needle pricked your skin. That’s when all of the pain and torture started…

———

DECEMBER 1991

HYDRA has been taking you in and out of the cryo chamber since 1945. They already brainwashed you, injected you with the Super Soldier serum, and trained you to know what a spy needs to know. Now, it’s December 1, 1991 and they took you out of the cryo and erased your memories once again.

“Ready to comply?” Your handler asks.

“Ready to comply.” You confirmed.

“We have a mission for you.” He says.

You nodded, waiting for him to tell you what the mission is.

“This is Howard and Maria Stark.” He shows you a picture of them. “We want you to follow them around for the next couple of weeks and see what information you can find out.” He explains.

“Yes, sir.” You complied.

You suited up for the mission. Your handler packed you binoculars, notebooks, and pens in a bag. They want you to take notes on what Howard and Maria are doing in those two weeks. Then you went to work.

After those two weeks, you got all of the information you needed to give to HYDRA written in the notebooks. You reported back to them and gave them the information.

“Great job, Agent Barnes. Your work here is done. Go get cleaned up.” Your handler says.

You nodded and left the room. As you were walking down the hall, you seen the Winter Soldier being dragged into one of the labs. You’ve never worked with him, but he looks familiar to you. Like you know him.

Could he be- no. Your husband died by falling off a train in 1945. At least that’s what HYDRA told you.

You were running down the street as Bucky chased you. Bucky caught up to you and grabbed you by your waist. He picked you up and spun you around, making you laugh uncontrollably. He gently put you back on your feet and pinned you against the nearest wall. He put his hands on the wall on both sides of your head.

“Why do you insist on running away from me, doll face?” Bucky asks.

“I think it’s fun when you chase me.” You answered with a playful grin.

“You’re right. It is.” He agrees and kisses you.

When the flashback ended, you felt yourself get lightheaded. You put your hand on the wall to keep yourself from falling. You weren’t sure what just happened, but you felt better after a few seconds.

———

2014

HYDRA sent you on an undercover mission to pose as an SHIELD Agent. They didn’t bother giving you a made up name for the undercover mission. They just sent to you SHIELD to spy for a little bit before they infiltrate them. Like you’re always told when you get sent on missions, you were told to keep your distance, in which you did. As you were doing your job, you seen Captain America- Steve Rogers from a distance. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. He’s the second familiar person who you came across since 1991.

“You need to stop getting into fights, Stevie.” You say as you helped clean him up.

“That guy had it coming.” Steve says.

You sighed as you continued to clean him up. Bucky walked in the bathroom a moment later.

“Did you get your ass beat again?” Bucky asks, leaning against the edge of the bathroom sink counter.

“He had it coming.” Steve says again.

“I swear you like getting punched.” Bucky says.

“No I don’t.” Steve says.

“Then why do you insist on getting into fights with people who are bigger than you?” You asked.

“I don’t know.” Steve mumbles.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend.

“Alright. You’re good as new now.” You say.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best.” Steve smiles.

You felt yourself get lightheaded after the flashback. You sat down in a chair before you passed out. You took a few deep breaths and took a sip of water before going back to work.

Meanwhile, Steve was doing research on you. He was curious to know what happened to you after Bucky died- fell off the train in 1945. Since he doesn’t know much about technology, he asked Natasha for help.

“Is there any particular reason why you’re researching a woman from the same time period as you?” Natasha asks curiously.

“She’s my childhood best friend. She married my best friend Bucky the Summer after we graduated from high school.” Steve tells her.

“Your childhood best friends are high school sweethearts? That’s so sweet.” She smiles.

“It is.” He smiles at the thought of it.

As Steve was researching you, he couldn’t find anything after 1945. He double and tripled check just to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

“There’s nothing on her after 1945. It’s like she disappeared.” Steve says.

“Do you think she might’ve died?” Natasha asks.

“No. Someone would told me.” He says.

———

Shortly after the fight on the helicarrier between Steve and the Winter Soldier, Bucky joined the Avengers. Bucky has been trying everything he could think of to figure out what happened to you. Steve told him that he did research on you, but couldn’t find anything on you after 1945.

“Think, Bucky. Are you sure you haven’t came across Y/N over the years?” Steve asks.

“If I came across my wife, I would’ve-” That’s when Bucky remembered something.

Two HYDRA agents were dragging the Winter Soldier to the lab to wipe his memories once again. You were walking past him at the same time he lifted his head. You two made eye contact with each other. His eyes never left yours as he was drugged past you.

“Bucky?” Steve gently shook his best friend to snap him out of his trance. “Are you ok?” He asks.

“HYDRA.” Bucky finally said. “They have my wife. I remember being dragged past her in a hallway of the HYDRA base I was kept at. Her and I didn’t recognize each other though.” He says.

Bucky’s eyes filled with tears and anger filled his veins.

“I’m going to kill them, Steve.” Bucky says, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“You have every right to kill them, Buck, but first, you need to save your wife.” Steve says softly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Will you help me?” Bucky asks and sniffles.

“You know I will. We’ll get Sam to help us too.” Steve says.

Bucky nods and wipes his tears away. He pulled it together long enough to save you. When Bucky, Steve, and Sam got to the HYDRA base you are currently being held at, Bucky wanted to shoot the first HYDRA agent he saw, but he restrained himself.

“Do you remember what hallway you were in when you first seen her?” Steve asks.

Bucky looked around for a moment, trying to remember where the hallway is. Something sparked his memory when he looked at the hallway to the right.

“I heard her footsteps go this way.” Bucky says.

He walked down the hallway to the right with Steve following behind him. Then he came to a stop when he saw a few doors. He looked in the sliding slot of each door to see if you’re in any of the cells.

“She’s in this cell.” Bucky says, looking threw the last door slot.

He already knew that that cell door was locked so he broke off the door knob with his metal hand. You were sleeping on the wall opposite of the door. Him and Steve cautiously walked towards you. You woke up when you heard unfamiliar footsteps. Bucky and Steve froze when you sat up and turned over to face them. Bucky’s breath hitched when he saw you for the first time in years. You cautiously stood up, not taking your eyes off the two Super Soldiers.

“Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You asked.

“Y/N, I’m your husband. Steve is right here. He’s our best friend, remember?” He says.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t know you guys.” You say.

“Doll, we’re high school sweethearts.” He says.

You were starting to feel overwhelmed. You managed to run past them, bumping into them as you did so. You ran through the hallways, trying to escape them. They caught up to you and Bucky tackled you to the floor. You tried to squirm free, but couldn’t.

“I’m your husband, doll.” Bucky says again.

“I’m not married.” You say.

You managed to kick Bucky off of you. You grabbed the gun out of the holster on his hip and aimed it at him. Bucky stayed on the floor, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Y/N, I want you to think about what you’re doing before you do it.” Bucky says in a calm voice.

Steve came up behind you and grabbed the gun out of your hand. You run before one of them could restrain you. You finally exited the base. You looked behind you to see if you out ran Bucky and Steve. You did. Then Sam flew down and grabbed you, catching you off guard.

“I got her.” Sam informs Bucky and Steve.

You did everything to squirm out of Sam’s hold on you, but he only held you tighter. Bucky and Steve exited the base and walked over to Sam. Sam moved you over to Bucky so now you’re in Bucky’s hold. He managed to get you on the quinjet and gently sat you down on one of the seats. You stared up at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

When you guys got to the Avengers compound, Bucky got you set up in his bedroom like the amazing husband he is. You looked around his bedroom. You’ll admit that it’s a lot nicer than the cell HYDRA put you in. You felt like you were going to go stir crazy in there so you left his bedroom and roamed around the compound. Meanwhile, Bucky was in the lounge room with Steve and Sam.

“What am I going to do if Y/N never remembers me as her husband?” Bucky asks, running his fingers through his long hair.

“She will, Buck. Just give her time.” Steve says softly.

You walked in the lounge room at the midst of their conversation. They stopped talking and turned their attention to you. Bucky stood up from his seat and walked over to you.

“Are you ok, doll? Do you need anything?” Bucky asks softly.

“I’m fine.” You mumbled. “Do any of you have a computer?” You asked.

“I have a laptop.” Sam says.

“Can I use it?” You asked.

“Sure.” Sam replies.

Sam hands you his laptop. You sat down on the couch and researched Bucky who claims is your husband and Steve who says is your childhood best friend. You researched Steve first.

“You’re Captain America.” You say, looking at Steve.

“Yes I am.” Steve confirms.

You then researched Bucky. Your eyebrows shot up at the results you got on him.

“You’re the Winter Soldier?” You asked Bucky, showing him a picture of when he was the Winter Soldier.

“Yes, but I don’t do that anymore. The man I have always been is your husband.” Bucky says.

You closed the laptop and gave it back to Sam. You walked over to Bucky, looking up at him.

“If you really are my husband, then why don’t I remember you?” You asked.

“HYDRA brainwashed you.” Bucky simply says.

Images of HYDRA brainwashing you flashes in your mind. Your breathing becomes uneven. You left the lounge and went straight to Bucky’s bedroom. You closed the door and leaned against it. You closed your eyes and tried to get your breathing under control. You’re starting to think that Bucky might be right about HYDRA brainwashing you.

———

Weeks turn into months and you still don’t remember Bucky as your husband. Bucky has tried everything he could think of to get you to remember him, but nothing works. He accidentally overwhelmed you once, but then apologized. It’s breaking Bucky’s heart that you don’t remember him. The more you say it, the more it feels like someone ripped his heart out of his chest and crushed it in their bare hands.

The only thing that’s keeping Bucky from breaking down is looking at old pictures of you two, especially the pictures from yours and his wedding day. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at the pictures. You guys were so happy. Thanks to HYDRA, all of that happiness got ripped from you two.

“Are you ok?” You asked.

“I’m fine.” Bucky says and sniffles.

You walked over to him and sat down next to him on his bed. You took a look at the pictures in the photo album he’s currently looking at.

“Who are those people?” You asked, pointing at one of yours and his wedding pictures.

“Me and you on our wedding day.” He tells you. “You looked so gorgeous in your wedding dress.” He says softly with a smile.

The more you look at the pictures, you don’t remember any of it. It makes you feel bad that you can’t remember the man you married.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember any of this.” You apologized sadly.

“Doll, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. It’ll come to you eventually.” He says softly.

You gaze deep in Bucky’s eyes, getting lost in them. You leaned in and kissed him passionately, catching Bucky by surprise. He kissed you back. He never forgot about how soft your lips feel against his. You pulled away after a few seconds, still gazing in his eyes.

“I’m falling in love with you, Bucky.” You admitted softly.

“I’m falling in love with you too, doll.” Bucky says softly.

In that moment, you and Bucky started to rekindle the love that got ripped from you guys years ago.

———

Yours and Bucky’s love has become stronger than ever lately. It’s just as strong as it was when you two fell in love when you guys were in high school. Also, yours and his happiness has came back.

“It looks like you and Y/N are falling in love again.” Steve says.

“How can you tell?” Bucky asks.

“You have that same smile on your face like the day you asked her to be your girlfriend in high school.” Steve says.

Bucky smiles at the memory. He remembers that day perfectly.

“You want to know what will make Y/N love you even more?” Wanda says.

“Yes.” Bucky replies.

“You should buy her favorite flowers and put her wedding ring back on her finger.” She suggests.

“Y/N does love flowers, but I don’t have her wedding ring to put on her finger.” He says sadly.

“Do you think she’ll accept a ring that’s different from her original ring?” She asks.

“I don’t know. There’s only one way to find out.” He says.

Bucky thanks Wanda for the suggestion and thought about it for a while. Later that same day, Bucky did what Wanda said. He bought a bouquet of your favorite flowers and he went to a jewelry store to buy a ring. He bought one that closely resembles your original ring.

“Have you guys seen Bucky?” You asked as you walked in the lounge room.

“He had to run a couple of errands. He said he’ll be back soon.” Wanda tells you.

“Are you ok?” Steve asks softly.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking, Stevie.” You smiled.

Steve smiles when you called him Stevie. You haven’t called him that nickname since 1943.

You decided to go outside to get some fresh air. You sat on the bench next to the door to the main entrance of the compound. Bucky came back from running his errands a moment later. You smiled when you seen him walking towards you.

“I was wondering where you were, James.” You say with a smile.

“I wanted to get you your favorite flowers.” Bucky smiles as he hands you the bouquet.

“These are pretty.” You smiled as you admired the flowers.

“I have something else for you.” He says nervously.

“What is it?” You asked curiously.

Bucky took a small velvet box out of his jacket pocket and got down on one knee. You gasped.

“I know it’s not exactly the ring I put on your finger in 1935, but I hope you like it.” He says.

Bucky opened the small box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

“I love it!” You exclaimed softly.

Bucky smiles and slides the ring on your finger. He sat down next to you on the bench and kissed you passionately.

“I love you, Bucky.” You say softly.

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky almost whispers. “I’m sure your memories of us will come back soon. Till then, you have our love and happiness to help you out with it.” He says softly, pecking your lips softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[crystallizsch]

HI okay so about that multifandom post — these are the ones that comes to mind i might post about in the future (with a lot of them having oc x canon stuff as well)

(the headers are my fan ocs btw 💕)

obey me!

i’ll very likely do this tbh

potential crossovers??? seven sins/brothers vs the seven overblotters???

i’ve been thinking about this for a long time actually (for example: obm mc and twst mc switching places)

and if you must know my faves are simeon and mammon >:]

stardew valley

maybe i’ll post about it???

i barely have time to play this game 😭 and when i do, i play it for like a week straight and dont touch it for several months (which is something i do with a lot of the games i play anyway 😔)

maybe potential twst x sdv au

as for the characters i’m into: it’s the alcoholic and the emo boy, if you know you know

IF THEY CAN’T LET ME HAVE ROBIN IM COURTING HER LOSER SON I GUESS

our life: beginning & always

a niche(?) visual novel with a customizable mc

augh i’ll definitely post about it bc i have SUCH a soft spot for it

it’s cheesy to admit but the game got me through some rough times before i landed on twst lmao (and it's literally the ONLY game i did somewhat of a self-insert hgdkfj)

if you’re into slice of life visual novels, PLEASE check this out, it’s free on steam (it has paid dlcs (that i all paid for bc i love the game so much) but the game is still VERY enjoyable without it)

it has so much 2000s-2010s nostalgic vibes, and it doesnt force you to a romance if you don’t want to (at least from what i remember but im pretty confident that’s the case)

and the main “love interest” is the CUTEST OUGH

it’s not really “exciting” per se since it’s a slice of life, BUT BUT—

ONCE I START POSTING ABOUT THIS I WILL CONVERT YOU GUYS MARK MY WORDS

pokemon

HUGE MAYBE THAT I’LL DO STUFF ABOUT POKEMON bc i struggle with animal art ;;;

so probably i’ll just do occasional crossovers/aus with twst

or sharing some trainer/gijinka ocs

misc games/anime/etc.

the arcana (nix hydra): another niche(?) visual novel free on the app store about a magician mc and tarot cards (grossly summarizing it), i’d recommend if you like fantasy/dark themes 🫶 i have a soft spot for it too bc it was one of my first oc x canon i started posting when i was younger <3 (i’d like to consider the art style of this dating sim “unconventionally pretty” like it’s not your usual anime otome game art style. it’s definitely not for everyone but i personally like it)

cult of the lamb: i have a one-off lamb oc but if i do post about this, it’s probably going to be more about gameplay than oc-posting tbh

honkai star rail: i have no ocs in this game but i LOVE playing for the characters/story so it’ll prob be just me reacting to story stuff and agonizing over gacha pulls

+ probably other franchises (like other anime or video games and stuff) i might make fanart of or just talk about

AGAIN TO CLARIFY: i'll still be twst-posting first and foremost because i know it’ll be my main fandom for a LONG while, i really don’t see myself dropping it any time soon!! these other fandoms are just side interests

and considering my track record of ONLY focusing on certain twst characters/ocs, i don't think the fandoms i mentioned here will show very often anyway 😭

[kebriones]

My header too is the sunset from hydra.

[dorianglowstick]

idk post that headers the blog??

Salvete, I am incapable of being normal

This is my rabid blog for all my transformers content, sometimes random stuff like original work too. Traditional art, I got locked out of the iPad so l'm gonna have to save up and buy a new one to do more digital art now 😑

I will be pleasantly surprised if I get any asks but I’m probably going to end up overthinking an answer so it’ll probably take time for it to be answered.

My artfight is: Dorianglowstick

Well I guess most people list their AUs and stuff on here and I have a shit ton so I figured I might as well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(all my fic links will lead to Ao3)

If it looks like I forgot about a fic or smth else, go ahead and harass me about it Imao I might be compelled to write more ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Link to G1 Ratchet in tfp fic

Lost Spark AU

idk my Hermes in G1 transformers fic. It’s going through edits rn bc I don’t like how it is and all the characters are fighting me. I’m working on it I swear I’m just distracted by everything else I’m writing and drawing😭

I just watched more g1 and realized there is literally no plot. I guess I’m gonna have to make one-

Hermes Scares Robots

ok so this one isn’t a fic yet, I’m still messing with it in docs but the link leads to any posts related to it

sound systems in mcu au

basically tfp Soundwave x Blaster from idk-which-continuity-yet get yeeted into the mcu but I cuff them together so they have to work together or be dissected by HYDRA ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ok I keep posting birdstorm stuff so here’s the main tag for it lmao

Bird Jetstorm AU

[notasimpx2]

A little bit about me!

I’m the leprechaun from your nightmares, the chocolate stealer, Ginger, or Jazmine

This is also my main rp blog so far, I might make another account for my other ocs. My cod account is @asheswillbeburnt, and Steven’s account is @steven-the-birb

(Ooc: this is my marvel oc)

Here is the list about my character because it’s easier lol! She also has trigger words from HYDRA, but nobody knows them.

Header image made by my good friend and sister @goddess-of-birds!

Mod is over eighteen, but will rp with anyone.

Beverly Marsh from IT is my face claim!

This is my family so far!

Dad(adopted, after sent to Midgard): @tonystark-rogers

Mom: @the-best-black-widow

Uncle: @official-buckybarnes

Sister: @goddess-of-birds

Brother/brothers: @god-of-thunder-mcu @iwasmadetobeasoldier

Niece: @ireallyliketacosokay

Nephew: Elias!

Friends!: @official-buckybarnes, @official-alpinebarnes, @proud-owner-0f-americas-ass

Nicknames (so far): love and darling are for special occasions or when if I’m okay with them, doll by @iwasmadetobeasoldier, and Jazz by anyone

P.S I’m single, sooo if you know anyone or you’re single hit me up 🫡

//

Ooc: be free to rp my marvel oc, or just say what oc you want to use! Just say if you want my Harry Potter, marvel, or dc oc.

I have 10+ kids in my friend group (us former homeschoolers/theater kids are still extremely weird)

I can do any type of rp, so the fandoms I’ll do are marvel, CoD, DC, and Harry Potter, because I have ocs in those fandoms.

I am a simp, that is also another nickname my friends gave me

I’m here to talk if you’re feeling down

I have two corgis, Kane and William, do not insult them or I will find out where you live.

Got my Wattpad account working again! Had to make a new account for some reason

Here’s my wattpad account if you want to follow me!

Love y’all!

[zedecksiew]

THE BLOGGIES 2023: NOMINATIONS OPEN

If tabletop roleplaying games were a hydra, blogs would definitely be one of its heads.

Probably the smartest, zaniest one? The one with the unexpected ideas; the silliest quips; the most devious schemes; the most profound observations.

The OSR / post-OSR style of play arose on blogs. I was inspired to make roleplaying games because of a blog post (this one, by Patrick Stuart, specifically).

Beyond the actual playing of games with friends, blogs are the most important part of TTRPGs, to me.

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Last year, Prismatic Wasteland hosted the inaugural Bloggies.

64 excellent posts from across the TTRPG blogosphere were considered. A celebration of our community, our psychic brain-trust---the many heads of this, our TTRPG beast.

All the nominees are worth perusing. Winners list here.

My post, "D&D's Obsession With Taxonomy", won Best Blog Post of 2022. (Thank you, everybody who voted!)

Because I won, it falls to me to host this year's Bloggies.

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Nominations are now open for the BLOGGIES 2023!

Is there a blogpost about TTRPGs from the past year (December 2022 to December 2023) that you think deserves attention and recognition?

Tell me about it! Drop a link to it, tell me why you like it, tell me which category it falls under:

Theory---broad criticism, observation, and analysis about TTRPGs (its cultures, its aesthetics and texts, its politics, etc);

Gameable---cool stuff (monsters, subsystems, bits of design, etc) you could grab and add to your own games;

Advice---ideas, tricks, and procedures for making your games better / easier / more fun, basically adding to the play-culture;

Review---specific criticism of specific books / games / systems / adventures / products.

Drop your nominations in the comments below, or in this Xwitter thread, or wherever else you can get in touch with me on the Internet. Do this before the end of 31 December 2023.

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How BLOGGIES 2023 Will Work

Here's how I am thinking of running things:

25 Dec 2023 - 31 Dec 2023: Nominations open!

1 Jan 2024: Nominees shortlist announced!

First week Jan 2024: Public voting for Best Theory Post!

Second week Jan 2024: Public voting for Best Gameable Post!

Third week Jan 2024: Public voting for Best Advice Post!

Fourth week Jan 2024: Public voting for Best Review Post!

First week Feb 2024: Final round of voting for Best Blog Post Of 2023!

"Imperfection is a feature, not a bug, of blogging," as Warren said about the Bloggies, last year. I am but a single person. I will be copying much of his methodology.

I will be whittling down the nominations I receive to a shortlist of 64 posts (16 per category bracket), via personal judgment. No blog will be represented more than once per category---except for reviews (3 posts per blog).

Public voting for each category will happen in four rounds (16 / 8 / 4 / finals). Winners in each category will face off in a four-way vote for Best Blog Post.

Voting will most likely happen on Twitter, same as last year. (I am loathe to do this, but Twitter is still the social-media network most TTRPG people are on, sadly. But am also considering Google Forms. Thoughts?)

Month-long voting gives us the space to celebrate / argue over all the work our community has turned out this year---and gives me time to create prizes. (Am thinking of making linocut prints, inspired by the winning posts.)

Finals being announced in February just before the Lunar New Year justifies the header art above---as the Year of the Rabbit gives way to the Year of the Dragon.

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Here we go here we go here we go!

[sharp-silver4795]

Liu’s Birthday (12/21/1987)

He is officially 37 years old, mfers!!

This likely will NOT be posted on his birthday cuz of the holidays and shit- I put him as 36 on my age HCs bc I just rounded lol

Before Jeff

Prior to Jeff being born, Liu would have small parties that really no one else came to.

His mom would go out and buy him a red velvet cupcake and make him a grilled cheese sandwich (he loved them as a kid after being introduced to them)

Those were some of his best memories.

He didn’t have a lot of friends, so he would celebrate with just his mom. Peter never celebrated with him.

Before Death

Once Jeff came around, his birthday was ignored. In fact, Jeff didn’t know Liu’s birthday until he was 12 years old… Liu would die less than 3 years later…

He didn’t really care much, though. It’s not like they thought they were a big deal.

That was until he saw Jeff’s birthday celebration. He admittedly was jealous, but he bit his tongue and celebrated with his brother.

After Death

Once Liu’s grave was made, Jeff made a point to visit him every year, especially his birthday.

After all, he couldn’t remember a time where his older brother’s birthday was recognized… hell, he couldn’t remember a time Liu was recognized for anything.

Jeff would bring iced coffee and a cinnamon roll in the morning and a small cupcake in the evening. He didn’t know what Liu liked for his birthdays, but he considered it enough.

Jeff didn’t know this, but Liu would receive those foods in Hydra. Death made sure to get it delivered to them.

After Un-Death

His birthday still wasn’t celebrated. But, once again, he wouldn’t complain.

Most members of the mansion got a day off but, Liu? No. He already took off a lot of time to help EJ with his seasons, Slenderman couldn’t afford any more lost time.

However, Jeff would still bring her an iced coffee.

In Hydra

His birthday is finally recognized.

He gets to celebrate with his friends and even people she was on rocky terms with.

Jeff still brings them iced coffee. EJ keeps the RV cupcake and grilled cheese tradition alive.

He gets to visit Jane and Toby at a bar. He doesn’t usually drink too much so that he doesn’t fuck up the occasion.

There’s no gifts. No special privileges. And he genuinely likes it that way. Just give him food, recipes for food, and iced coffee. He will be 100% content.

Divider Creds: Sister-Lucifer

They aren’t FNAF dividers idk what you’re talking about 👀

Header Creds: MEEE!!!

Have these pictures btw: