#tfawts fic

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part two

meant just for you

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Chapter Summary: Without the barrier of identity between you now, you sympathize with Bucky and think of a way to make him a bit more comfortable.

warnings: FLUFF! some sad fighting with his past Bucky, but again FLUFF!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: thank you ALL so much for the love on part one: one look, dark room. when I posted, I didn't expect such overwhelming positivity! you're all so wonderful and I hope you love part two just as much if not more than part one. this will be slow burn, but there will be plenty of cute moments in between too. also, as a long time fic reader, heavy fics are sometimes just what you need, but other times, nothing can beat easy reading, and I hope to be able to provide that for you <3 no need to worry about a broken heart on my blog ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

a/n: if you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know! I appreciate every one of you <3

masterlist | part one

With the first signs of sunlight trickling in through the blinds and the early hum of traffic along your street, you stirred awake. The soft rays of dawn kissed your eyes as you settled into calm contemplation of the night before. The events were still fresh in your mind, and it was hard to believe such a significant part of Bucky’s life had been revealed to you. Even harder was the realization of how quickly you returned to feeling normal about it. The shock wore off almost instantly, and his presence returned to just James again, reminding you that nothing about him had truly changed.

You felt no aversion towards him—neither at the moment he told you, nor afterwards. The fear and repulsion he seemed to expect never surfaced. Instead, you were filled with awe and empathy.

To Bucky, his identity was tied to the events and actions of a past he had desperately tried to forget. But for you, it was about the life he had missed entirely.

Closing your eyes, you could hear it in the silence, the crackling strains of Sinatra, the melody that had brought a brief flicker of peace to Bucky’s troubled face. As the music played, you exchanged a few words, but not too many. You didn’t want to spook him, sensing the lingering tension after your discovery of his other name. He chose to stay, and you let him sit unmoving as long as he needed, letting him know you were comfortable with him there. In that moment, you were content to simply watch him.

The music seemed to cause a shift in him—as if the song reached into the depths of his memories, the parts he still cherished, and pulled him back to a time when things were simpler, when he knew how to be a part of the world. A time when he didn’t feel like he was taking up space that wasn’t meant for him.

That moment deepened your view of him. You realized how much had been taken from him—not just the music of his time, but everything that made life rich and full. Sent to war, never to return home, and then being thrust into a world that had moved on without him, a world where nothing felt familiar, just like Captain America had. The weight of that understanding pressed on you, filling you with a sense of urgency that lingered now, in the light of morning.

Seeing that fleeting calmness, the softening of his eyes as he listened, you knew he needed a lifeline—a way to escape the constant feeling of not belonging.

As the morning light grew stronger, a decision solidified in your mind: you needed to help him find that peace again, to create a space where he could retreat whenever the world became too much. A decision fueled by altruism, and perhaps, by the desire to see that beautiful look on his face again as he found solace in your apartment.

It wasn’t just about surrounding him with memories of the past. It was about finding a way to bridge the gap between the world he remembered and the one he found himself in now.

Finally pulling yourself out of your much-too-comfortable bed, you moved to the kitchen, your bare feet padding softly against the floor as you prepared a simple breakfast. The rhythmic sounds of shifting ingredients and the sizzling of butter provided a backdrop to your thoughts, which were still occupied by Bucky. His presence lingered, even in his absence, as if you could sense him across the hall in his apartment without needing to see him.

With the toast popping up, you added it to your otherwise completed plate and set it down at the small kitchen table. You grabbed your laptop and opened it, quickly diving into what you do best: finding treasures among other people’s old junk, all while working through your breakfast.

Your fingers moved quickly across the keys as you typed in the names of artists from the 30s and 40s you’d found on Google. The results flooded the screen—some listings for supposedly ‘pristine’ records, others showing signs of wear and scratches. It didn’t take long before you stumbled upon a lot of records—30s and 40s jazz and swing, bundled together in a collection. Some of the vinyls were described as being in less-than-perfect condition, with scratches that might affect the sound, but for $30, it was worth the risk.

The thought of Bucky being able to listen to more music from his time, music that could help him feel just a little more at home, made a feeling of warmth spread through you. You added the records to your cart, excitement building as you placed the order. It seemed like a small step, but felt a lot bigger. All you needed to do now was wait a couple of days for the package to arrive.

As you closed your laptop, you took a bite of your breakfast, the warm food a comfort as you considered the days ahead. The records would arrive soon, and with them, the hope that Bucky might find some peace, some connection to the world he once knew, and maybe even more of a connection with you.

Bucky had spent the past couple of days trapped in a loop, a repetitive cycle of hope and despair. The night with you had sparked something within him—a small flicker of what could be, of what it might feel like to be normal, to have a friend. But that flicker was quickly smothered by the reality he faced every time he closed his eyes.

His nightmares had been relentless, each one a violent reminder of who he really was. The images would blur and twist, merging the faces of those he had hurt with those he had lost.

He’d wake up on the floor, sheets sweaty and falling around him, the cold emptiness of his hardly furnished apartment pressing in on him from all sides, making him feel like he was trapped in a continuously shrinking box. Telling himself that he could move forward and live normally felt like he was just pretending.

He knew he was different, that the world was different. Without Steve, he was alone—no one else was stuck like he was. Just him.

The life he was supposed to have had was a distant memory, replaced by something darker, something he couldn’t shake no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise.

But then there was you. You, who had looked at him with kindness instead of the fear he was used to. You, who had sat with him, listened to music with him, and hadn’t flinched when he revealed his secret, if he could really call it one. It had almost reminded him of Steve in a way. Knowing him, he would have accepted him immediately, just as you had.

For the first time in a long time, he had felt the crushing weight of loneliness ease just a little. The realization of how isolated he had been hit him like a punch to the gut. He found himself longing for your company, wanting to hear your voice, to see your face again.

But that longing came with a gnawing sense of guilt. He didn’t want to be a burden. The last thing he wanted was to drag you down into the darkness that clung to him like a shadow. He knew he shouldn’t get too close, shouldn’t let you get too close.

So, despite the pull he felt to reach out, to knock on your door and ask if you wanted to listen to more music, not knowing how else to connect with you, he held back. He decided to wait, to let things happen on their own, if they were meant to.

He wouldn’t tell Sam about this. And he definitely wouldn’t tell his therapist.

It was already hard enough to have to deal with the emotions as they were. If he told either of them he was just going to end up frustrated and annoyed by what they had to say. Sam’s jokes and his therapist’s lectures were just too much for him right now.

So, he waited. Every day he would find himself standing at the door, hand hovering over the handle, debating whether to take that step, to cross the hall and knock. And every day, he would turn away, convincing himself that he was doing the right thing, even though it felt like he was just running in circles.

The days passed by fairly quickly, with you busying yourself with admissions office job you had gotten at the university. After waiting, the lot of records you had ordered online arrives.

You headed down to the lobby, where the same disinterested worker from the other week was on the job. You were almost certain he was the only employee at this point. His eyes barely flicked up to you as you approached, his indifference almost offensive.

You couldn’t help but think you could probably steal everyone's packages and he would never know the difference, but being honest in nature and too excited, you took the box you knew now belonged to you up to your apartment.

Once inside, you carefully unwrapped the package, peeling back layers of bubble wrap and cardboard until you were through to what you cared about.

You inspected each record with care, worried with them being so old that they may be brittle. The listing had promised only slight scratches on some, the majority having stayed in their sleeves, untouched, for years.

A smile tugged at your lips as you saw the seller’s claims had been true. The records were in remarkable condition, considering their age. You decided to transfer them into new, clean sleeves to ensure they stayed as nice as possible and one by one, you slid them into fresh covers.

With the records now properly housed, you moved over to your setup, making space on the shelf. You cleared out one of the cubbies, sliding the new additions into their place. The final touch was a small bow you tied onto the ledge, to showcase that the spot was a gift.

Your heart thudded with anticipation. There was no reason to wait any longer; you wanted to share this with Bucky today if you could. You made your way across the hall to his door, your excitement making your steps lighter. Standing outside, you knocked gently, calling out his name to let him know you were there.

But there was no response.

You knocked again, your voice a little louder this time, but still nothing. Disappointment began to settle in as you considered the possibility that he wasn’t home, or worse, didn’t want to see you.

Just as you were about to turn away, you heard a sound behind you—the soft creak of a door opening. You turned back to see Bucky standing there, his expression unreadable but his eyes locked on you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“Hey,” you replied, the relief washing over you causing a grin to replace the disappointment that had been on your face just moments before. “I was hoping to catch you.”

He looked at you, waiting, so you continued, “I got something I wanted to show you. Actually... it’s a bit of a surprise. I was thinking maybe you could come over for dinner again? I promise it’s for a special reason.”

For a moment, Bucky seemed to wrestle with something inside himself, his gaze dropping to the floor. But then he looked back up, a small, almost imperceptible nod following.

“Yeah,” he said finally, “I’d like that.”

As he closed the door, unseen to you, a smile spread across his face. Giving it time had been the right choice, but he had no idea what reason could be so special to invite him over for.

The rest of the day passed by in anticipation, your thoughts constantly drifting to the dinner you planned for the evening. As the time approached, you began preparing the meal, the kitchen filling with warmth that promised a good night ahead.

Just as you were finishing up on the stove, a knock sounded at the door. Quickly moving the pan off the heat and covering it to let the food simmer, you wiped your hands before heading over to answer.

When you opened the door, Bucky stood there, his expression slightly guarded, but with something else there as well. Maybe it was just curiosity, maybe just happiness to be here.

You hoped it was both.

“Come on in,” you said, stepping aside for him to enter, “I was just finishing up. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were spying on me.”

The two of you sat down, and slowly eating, the conversation which had started slow and nervous eased into something more relaxed. The topic eventually drifting to your past and his, you shared how you got there and Bucky, with a small, nostalgic small, told you stories of going dancing.

You couldn’t help ask more.

“Dancing, huh? I can’t really picture you out on the dance floor.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes distant for a moment as if he were pulling the memory from a far corner of his mind.

“It was different back then. Everyone went. It was just something you did.”

The idea of Bucky, so often serious and reserved, out enjoying himself like that was both endearing and a little surprising. An idea began to form in your mind as you stood up from the table, making your way over to the shelves where your record player and collection were kept.

“Maybe you heard one of these when you were out there with one of your dates,” you said over your shoulder, pulling out the box you placed in the cleared cubby earlier.

Bucky’s gaze followed you, a hint of confusion knitting his brow as you came back to the table with the box. Setting it down in front of him, you opened the lid to reveal the records you had carefully collected, each one now neatly housed in its new sleeve.

“That,” you said, gesturing to the empty shelf, “is your spot. And this is the start of your collection. And if you want, you can add that Sinatra record from the other night in here too.”

For a moment, Bucky just stared at the records, recognizing some of the names through the clear plastic covering them, his fingers hovered, hesitant to touch something that felt so much like home yet so far removed from his current reality. Then, as the realization of what you were offering him sank in, a flicker of shock crossed his face.

“What is this?” he said quietly, his voice thick with an emotion he was clearly trying to keep in check.

You shrugged, smiling at him. “We could say it’s a happy early—or late—birthday gift maybe? If I need to have an excuse to give it to you.”

Bucky looked at you, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice softening. “It’s meant just for you. So, whenever you need it, a little bit of comfort, come and be familiar with something.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes glistening slightly, though he quickly looked away, trying to hide the depth of his reaction. You could tell the gesture had touched him more than he was letting on.

“Thank you,” he said, almost a whisper.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Maybe once you hear some stuff again you'll get an itch and have to show me how those old dances went. Since you owe me now you know? For starting your collection for you.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile, the tension easing from his shoulders. “I guess I do.”

And there it was again, you could hear it in the silence the same way you did the morning you ordered the gift, Frank’s voice in the back of your head.

In that moment, something shifted between you—a subtle but significant change. You’d take it one step at a time.

a/n: well there it is, hope you liked the way this part played out. your support is unimaginable! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

taglist:

@mcira

@mostlymarvelgirl

@hzdhrtss

@winterslove1917

@purplecolordeer

@nicksolemnlyswears

[barneswilsonrogers]

We'll never get tfawts era back but I'll always be grateful for the memories

the increbile fics we get??? the fanarts, the twitter video edits?? the character analysis, the new insight into bucky and sam's lives? THE CAST INTERVIEW?

even the fights was entertaining lmaoo

[reidmym1nd]

sooo like does anyone wanna recommend me some bucky x reader fics that are canon divergence (tws, ca:cw, iw, endgame or tfawts). it could be on here or ao3

[jinxquickfoot]

Asks for you too!! 🥰

🌈💘🪄

From this ask game

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

The last chapter of The One Where Clint is Sam's Weakness. I rewrote that one four times, and it would never come right, especially the final text Clint writes to Kate. For a long time, I struggled with two themes that were competing with each other - making impossible choices, and failure (two things I was struggling with in my own life at the time). And then it hit me - if you're always making impossible choices, where there isn't a good outcome either way, of course you'll always feel like you're failing. That, and the line "You're my hero, Kate" (which replaced "I'm proud of you," which we already heard in the show). Once the two themes became one, the rest finally came together. (Thank you to @teeelsie-posts for your feedback on this, it was so much help!)

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

The entire Whumptoberverse? Which is part of the reason it's been on hiatus for so long. I have an autistic OC that is a horrible stereotype and needs serious reworking. Amendments needs a good edit, how Tony meets Aceso is such a mess, and there's so much in A Quiet Place that just doesn't make sense. I'm no longer sure that Steve's passive "I don't know what to do with myself so I'm just going to go along with everyone else" is in character, and after seeing TFAWTS I don't feel like my Bucky is canon-accurate either. In hindsight, I think I also regret the addition of Clint/Bucky, but it's baked enough into the plot that it's going to stay. And the whole thing is just riddled with typos. I'm honestly surprised when I get positive comments on it still, I'm at the point where I can only see the flaws, so I keep avoiding finishing it.

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

(A few of the options showed up as 🪄 for me so I just picked the one I wanted to answer most!)

I... don't have one. Which is probably a problem I should work on, as I am super prone to writer burnout/fatigue. I have so many unfinished projects all I really see is the unfinished list and not the completed one.

[bigassmoonchild]

thank you thank you 🫶🫶

[philtstone]

Chapters: 5/8 Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, Kamala Khan & Sam Wilson, Eli Bradley & Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson & Sarah Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sarah Wilson, John Walker & Sam Wilson (Marvel), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sam Wilson & Helmut Zemo, Miles Morales & Peter Parker, Joaquín Torres & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & AJ Wilson Characters: Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sarah Wilson, Kamala Khan, Peter Parker, Eli Bradley, AJ Wilson, Cass Wilson, John Walker, Background & Cameo Characters, Helmut Zemo, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Yelena Belova, Miles Morales, Joaquín Torres, Alpine (Marvel) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, The Arcane AU(TM), what it actually is is the 'vander from arcane vibing with his bar and foster children' au, Canon Divergence - Post-Episode: s01e06 One World One People (The Falcon and the Winter Soldier), Canon-Typical Violence, anway ... sam wilson my beloved, u deserve more fics focused on u, alas; the first one i wrote was this one, Fluff and Angst, Team as Family, Slow Burn, but only for the plot; all the relationships are nice and established, Sam Wilson-centric, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, and some sarahbucky bc u all know who i am :), tldr the world ends and sam and bucky adopt some super kids Summary:

In which the world ends, Sam Wilson opens a bar with his best friend, accidentally adopts some children (also with his best friend), and figures out how to grieve his own life and move forward, not necessarily in that order.

**

Part 4 (Interlude) Excerpt:

Sarah stands in the doorway on bare legs, wrapped up in that old Afghan of theirs and missing one earring. She blushes a lot more discreetly than Bucky does, but Sam knows his sister well enough to know she is fighting a strong one just now. She clears her throat, pulling the blanket more closely around herself.

“Colonel Rhodes,” she says politely.

“Ms. Wilson,” Rhodey replies, equally politely. He’s very diligently looking at the opposing wall. “Sarah. Wonderful to see you again.”

“Likewise. You get here safely?”

“Didn’t have too much trouble.”

“Alright.” Sarah turns to face Sam and Bucky. “Are you two done?”

Which is just unfair, Sam thinks.

a small interlude -- featuring a visit from rhodey, some good old fashioned necking, and someone finally forcing sam to stop, and ask himself how he's really doing.

this is a shorter chapter, but hopefully a fun one. sarahbucky homies ... this ones for you.

every comment i received on the last chapter was so thoughtful and touching, and i will try to respond to those asap. i apologize in advance for any delays, as im currently staying with my cousin and his two wonderful little kids, who are more interested in painting my nails multicolour sparkle shades than they are letting me respond to ao3 comments. that being said -- reviews bring me so much joy, guys. i write to share as much as i write for myself. this story is super special to me, and i hope its shaping up to be Something for you guys as well.

enjoy!

[kikilefangirl]

Here To Stay

Sam Wilson x reader

(Reader is Tony Stark’s, and I cannot stress this enough, very GROWN adopted daughter, who was snapped during Infinity War. TFATWS spoilers ahead!)

(Word Count: 1k)

It was hot, muggy, and you couldn’t wait to get back in your bed at home after this.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s GPS had guided you to a small country house like only you’d seen in the movies. 

Before you could make it to the porch, three curious faces peaked out from the screen door. It was a woman and two kids. They scattered into the house’s interior as Sam Wilson stepped outside. 

He wore a thin, dark colored t-shirt and jeans. Sweat dripped from his brow, shining against the Louisiana sun. 

“Wrong house.” Sam announced. He had an easy half smile that hovered somewhere between curiosity and reluctance. You purse your lips, and cocked your head to the side.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, disable location. Falcon protocol, Redwing protocol. Voice activation authorized. Stark, Y/N.” You ordered. The AI replied and went to work, finally in proximity with the Falcon suit to do so.

Sam cautiously approached you, and snorted.

“Only Tony Stark’s child would come down here barking orders, wearing high heels on wet grass.” 

You glanced down at your pumps, “I always wear heels.” 

Your dad never expected anything less. Tony Stark was nothing if not flamboyant and you had taken after him in that respect.

“If you fall, I’m laughing.” Sam joked as he led you inside. To your credit, you were perfectly steady as you trudged through the grass and up the front steps. 

As the two of you settled into the living room, you got right to the point. 

“Steve gave you that shield, Sam.” You said, plainly. You were nothing if not blunt. You decided that it was a side effect of your last name, probably made worse after the snap. 

Sam shook his head and clasped his hands together. A thick vein pulsed on his temple as he formulated a response. It wasn’t humility or politeness—Sam didn’t seem like they type for either— it was shame. An intense shame. 

“They have their guy, now. So you can go on back home and leave well enough alone. Take a plate with you, my sister made it.” With his downturned eyes, jaw clenching and unclenching in the silence, Sam Wilson sat slumped in the chair. 

You slammed your palm on the wall, the sound piercing through the house. Like the soldier he was, Sam didn’t react to your outburst, but that didn’t stop you from going off. 

“The U.S. government can have your black ass in those wings running covert ops off the Libyan border with no paper trail, but they can’t let you keep that shield?”

Your question chipped away at Sam’s armor, applying the necessary pressure. You knew the feeling—the creeping thought at the back of your mind, the lingering worry that your best couldn’t compare. Sam’s face hardened after each word but he needed to hear them, especially from someone who could understand his plight.  

“You’re the big dog now, Wilson. Are you really gonna let them keep you the mantle you earned? When it wasn’t even theirs to give away?” You went on. Your heels clacked against the rickety hardwood as you paced back and forth. 

You swallowed hard, not letting the bitterness fester. You loved Morgan, and getting to know her after having been snapped and missing her whole life, was how you reconnected with the regular world. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting when people wrote articles about how Tony Stark was survived by his wife Pepper, daughter Morgan, and no mention of you in there. 

“It doesn’t feel like mine.” Sam admitted. He kept staring straight ahead, you could see the thoughts swirling in his head. 

“It’s not theirs either, so fuck them and build your own legacy.” You said, matter of factly. 

You didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh. But ever since you came back, you had trouble self editing. To make up for it, you placed a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder.

He looked up at you so sincerely that it caught you off guard. His warm eyes were different than what you were used to—Sam radiated comfort, even when he was the one hurting the most. He gave you an unsure smile, but he was still leaning towards you. A strange feeling came over you as you felt the thick muscle underneath his shirt, making you snatch your hand away and straighten up. Heat rushed through your cheeks uncontrollably—you silently prayed he didn’t notice. 

“Um, uh, I have the shield’s location as well as the location of the one and only Bucky Barnes at the ready. The two of you have a tight window of opportunity, so take full advantage.” 

As you rambled on, Sam became less and less hopeless. Relief washed over his features, and it calmed you down, too. You had pierced through his resignation, and got him out of his head. 

He suddenly met your eyes with an apologetic gaze.

 “We didn’t speak at the funeral. I’m—”

“You weren’t my dad’s favorite person, either, Wilson.” You cut him off. His sympathy didn’t make you feel better. You had seen the Iron Man murals and memorials and tributes all across the globe and they hadn’t, either. But Sam’s admission did make you feel like a real person, and no one else’s sorry ever caught your attention for that.

You nodded at him. Sam smiled for real this time, and noticed how his gap was more pronounced up close.  It was a charming addition to an already handsome face.

“It’s a new world, and I’ve gotta do my part then.” He declared. There was a shift in him, a glimpse at what might have been optimism. 

“Then get dressed, we’ve got work to do.” You replied.

Sam shot you an amused glance, looking you up and down. You caught him in the act and smirked. As you turned on your heel and headed for the door, you couldn’t resist calling him out in it.

“Stop staring at my ass in here, stare at it on the plane. I’ll be in the car.”  

You smiled at the implication, imagining what Sam’s reaction was as you slipped out the door and back out into the world. 

He was right—it was a new world. And you needed to do something to move it along, starting by reconnecting the shield with its rightful owner.

[majestyeverlasting]

Always Back to You

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: After coming home a little roughed up, Bucky seeks forgiveness for not being candid about a mission in D.C. But all you truly care about is the fact that he's okay and made his way back to you. Contains: intimate moments, a sprinkle of angst, and implied nudity at the very end.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: This is a little something I wrote because my brain went *squirrel* as I was working on requests. I hope you guys enjoy!

The weight of Bucky's hands settling on your hips made every thought that didn’t pertain to him fade away. Rather than acknowledging his touch, you remained still and studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he stood behind you. His cheeks carried a hint of rosiness from the coolness of the night, and there was a diagonal scratch on his forehead above his right eyebrow. It wasn't until his soft lips met the skin of your neck that your resolve crumbled. Perhaps it never truly stood a chance.

A slight rasp found its way into his voice as he whispered into your ear: I’m sorry, sweet girl. He kept repeating it and gripped you tighter. Until, finally, you turned around to face him, bringing your hands to his stomach to curl your fingers into the fabric of his black shirt. You were unsure of whether to push him away or pull him closer, but wanted to do both.

The sun had set in the hours prior, and it was your first time seeing him since that earlier morning. He’d stirred a couple hours before dawn, and you remained quiet as he shuffled around the bedroom. The only time he turned any lights on was upon entering the bathroom or the closet, hoping you wouldn't stir. It wasn’t until he left the room entirely that you crawled out of bed to follow him. He’d made it into the kitchen by the time you caught up. The floor was cool beneath your feet.

“Are you about to leave?” You asked, watching as he began searching the cabinets for something quick to eat. You knew he didn’t have the day off, but hadn’t been informed about his obligations.

“I—yeah, in a bit. I gotta be at the airport by six. There’s an intelligence briefing at the Pentagon that Sam and I were requested to attend.”

“So you’ll be in D.C. for the day?”

“Mhm.”

You moved to sit at the kitchen island, rubbing your eyes. “Did you just find out this morning? Do you even have everything you need…” You paused to look around, and noticed his duffle bag sitting on the couch in the living room. It was clearly packed, but you couldn’t recall him setting aside the time to pack it. He must’ve done it the previous night after you’d fallen asleep.

“Buck.”

“Hmm?”

“If you knew about this trip last night, you should've said something. I wouldn’t have made you stay up to watch that silly movie with me. We could’ve turned in early.”

“Sam texted me a few minutes after we pressed play. I knew you would've shut it off and made me go to bed if I'd brought it up. Wasn't gonna ruin our first movie night in forever.” You gave him a feigned look of disappointment, to which he returned with a tired smile. “Did I wake you up? I was trying to be as quiet as I could."

You shook your head. "You were quiet. I can sense when you leave the bed sometimes, and this happened to be one of them. But, either way, I don’t mind getting up in cases like this. You know that,” you told him with a smile. “So you’ll be heading back home after the briefing?”

“That's the plan,” he said, grabbing a box of meal bars and tossing one onto the counter for himself. Then he walked to where you were sitting and swiveled the stool so that you faced him. “And I know you say you don’t mind, but we’ve got this little one growing.” He tapped your rounded stomach with his index finger. You were four months along. “Every extra minute of sleep counts.” Then he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Later that afternoon, you'd found yourself on the phone with Sam, heart rate slightly quickened, as he filled you in about an incident. What Bucky had left out that morning was the fact that they also had to disband an underground negotiation in Downtown D.C. And what awaited them upon their arrival at the bunker had been a group of armed and expecting men. All of them were detained in the end, but Bucky had taken quite a few hits because he was holding back to prevent anyone from being seriously injured.

You were staring out at the Brooklyn skyline as Sam spoke. One jittery hand holding the phone, the other rubbing circles over your stomach.

“He’s okay though, right?”

“Well, he’s currently trying to refuse a medical assessment so I’d say so.”

A hint of a smile came to your face. “Sounds like him," you murmured. "How about you, are you alright?”

“I’m better than I was when six dudes wanted to drop kick us to Pennsylvania Avenue. But, really though, I’m good,” he assured, a smile evident in his voice. “I’m gonna be staying in D.C. for the next few days, but Buck’s got a flight back to Brooklyn later on. He wanted me to make sure you knew that.”

“Alright." You released a long exhale. "Thanks for the call, Sam.”

“Anytime.”

With you now facing him, Bucky cupped your cheeks, grateful he was able to coax you into moving. “All of this played out different in my head," he murmured. "Only reason I didn't tell you is 'cause I didn't want you to be worried that early in the morning. I know how you feel about combat-based missions—especially now that you're pregnant."

Guilt was swimming within his cerulean eyes. So when you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, he froze in a brief moment of surprise. Upon pulling away, you began to lift his shirt to asses the aftermath of the fight on his body. He helped you take it the rest of the way off, wincing a couple times. When it fell to the floor, he released a heavy sigh.

The skin of his torso was warm as you brushed your fingertips over the few bruises. They were mainly on the front of his ribcage, and one was more so on his side rounding around to his back. Likely from the impact of a kick. You didn’t like the way their deep coloring stood out against his skin.

“Doll…” Bucky took your hands in his and kissed your knuckles. “Say something.”

You looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you started softly, studying his features, “but I'd much rather have known about the negotiation too. So at least I could've been somewhat prepared to receive a phone call about you getting hurt."

His shoulders dropped. "I know. Bad judgement call on my part."

"Hey, listen." This time, you cupped his cheeks, his stubble brushing against your palms in a gentle scratch. "Even if your next mission is to buy candy from a bodega, I'll still want to know beforehand. I'll always want to know. I care about where you are in the world.”

That caught him off guard, and he breathed out a chuckle. “Buy candy from a bodega,” he repeated, shaking his head.

You felt yourself beginning to smile. “I mean it.” You moved your hands to rest on his broad shoulders.

“I know you do.” After a few seconds of silence, he pressed his lips to yours, strong hands finding your waist. The way he kissed you was slow, sweet, and ever consuming. There was no helping the overwhelming mix of relief and love that filled your heart.

The two of you found yourselves in the shower not too long after, with warm streams of water meeting your skin. The air smelled like cedar and jasmine all at once. You watched as Bucky rinsed his body of the soap you had lathered onto it. He let his head tilt back as the tiny bubbles ran down his bruised torso and to his legs. When he met your gaze again, there were droplets of water falling from his eyelashes. You took a step forward to wrap your arms around his neck. Your chest and baby bump pressed into him, and it brought a small smile to his face. His whole world was standing right in front of him.

It was you who eventually spoke. "You wanna know something?" You asked, beginning to play with the wet hair at the nape of his neck.

He gave you a squeeze. "What?" Part of him was expecting you to tell him something that had happened during the day, or even about upcoming plans for the week. But you ended up telling him something that he had heard countless times before. And it still sent a spark of life throughout him.

"I love you a whole awful lot." Those words were punctuated with a peck to the dimple of his chin.

His voice was low and sure when he responded. "I love you too." It was a truth that resonated to the deepest part of his being. "More than I'll ever be able to explain."

And there, under the water with your body pressed against his, you were grateful that like numerous times before, he had made his way back to you.

-

Thank you so much for reading!

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[biisexualemma]

winter soldier. bucky barnes

word count: 2348

warnings: a bit of violence

requested: N/A

plot: you have to watch bucky fight like the winter soldier

a/n: i wrote this literally like thirty minutes after i watched ep.3 of tfatws! it is basically bucky's fight scene in the club because it's literally all i can think about after that episode (jesus christ it had me feeling a lot of things) but from your perspective. so i wrote this, same idea, some things changed slightly, e.g. you are also working with sam and bucky-- anyway! hope you like!

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / masterlist

"winter soldier."

you clenched your jaw, your teeth grinding together, eyes glued to bucky's vacant expression. your stomach was in knots. you were against the plan to begin with, but you had no choice but to take zemo's lead on this. that didn't mean you trusted him one bit, not after what he put your friends through. your hand remained firmly tucked against your thigh, where your knife was strapped to your leg.

you could feel your chest rising and falling faster as the man approached zemo from behind, your heart beating harder in your chest. the main reason behind your not wanting to go through with this mission was bucky. you knew how hard he worked every day to remove himself from his past, and here he was, again, placed right in the middle of everything he wanted to forget. the only reason you agreed to it was bucky's reassurance that he could handle it.

but right now, you were reminded of the man you met many years ago for the first time, only without the mask.

the man's hand fell onto zemo's shoulder. "attack," he spoke in the eerily familiar tongue.

he didn't hesitate, his vibranium arm snatched the man's hand away from zemo, you swore you heard something crack. you clutched your knife, yanking it out of it's holder, but before you got any further, sam's hand was restraining you. he didn't look your way, holding his cover, instead you both watched bucky drag the man away from the three of you, twisting his arm behind his back to where you heard another disturbingly loud crack.

you tried to keep your cover, but you couldn't help but flinch watching him use his full force to plough his vibranium arm against the mans chest, knocking him off his feet. his body slammed against the hard floor and you gulped, sam's hand tightening around your wrist when you made to move again.

"hold it," you glanced at sam for a split second, his eyebrows knitted tightly together watching the winter soldier in action, but he knew the consequences if he made to intervene. you could tell it was unsettling sam just as much as it was you, to watch bucky like this. but you had no choice but to stand and watch your boyfriend ruin anyone who came within a foot of him.

the bar was silent, the only sounds to be heard were the muffled groans coming from the man at bucky's feet. you noticed some of the people surrounding the fight had pulled out their phones and began recording the scene. you wanted to snatch them away and crumple them, but resolved to taking a deep breath and biting down on your tongue as hard as you could. you just had to endure for a little while longer and then it would be over.

you watched as bucky took apart two more men who came swinging towards him, zemo's expression was full of more amusement than you cared for. you felt blood trickling in your mouth, the metallic taste filling your taste buds after you had flinched and bit down harder on your tongue.

if sam hadn't been there to physically restrain you, you would've intervened long before this could start. you knew bucky was no longer controlled by zemo, but watching him fight like this was a brutal reminder of everything bucky had done and been through. you dreaded to think how it was making him feel having to slip back into the mindlessly violent nature that had been drilled into him.

sam's eyes darted around, watching bucky take out one guy after the next. zemo couldn't keep himself out of it, he shoved forward a bystander, watching, almost gleefully, as bucky threw a swing at the man, spinning him backwards before delivering another blow so forceful it took out another man standing behind him. your breath hitched in your throat, you couldn't stop yourself from cringing when another man was thrown off his feet, his spine cracking harshly against the metal joists when bucky's metal arm collided with his torso and sent him flying.

your ears were ringing slightly, your throat tightening the longer you watched this go on. "didn't take much for him to fall back into form," you heard zemo lean into sam's ear to mumble this but you caught it. you were going to kill that man yourself after this mission was over.

sam's grip loosened on your wrist when bucky clenched his metal hand around one man's neck, lifting him off his feet and slamming him down against the bar. you moved away from sam before he could stop you, your eyes wide with fear when bucky tightened his grip, the man's gasps for air were all that could be heard, that, and the cocking of several guns.

your hand moved from its position on your knife, to the cool metal of bucky's arm where he stood slowly cutting off this mans air supply. you clenched your hand tightly to pull him away, but he didn't shift, his intense gaze was locked on the man beneath him.

"stay in character or the whole bar turns on us," zemo muttered under his breath, his eyes wide and locked on yours. you hesitated, but pulled yourself away, not wanting to be the reason this mission was unsuccessful after everything you'd done to get to this point. you knew how much was riding on this.

you let out short, strained breaths, your eyes still locked on bucky's unwavering expression. you wondered how much he still felt in control of himself, or whether he was simply just keeping up the act.

"well done, soldier," zemo spoke after a brief silence. your stomach churned every time he would use that tongue to speak to bucky.

you watched bucky's eyes shift up to the bartender, his eyebrows slightly knitted and his hand slowly unclenching from around the mans throat. the man let out a strained wheeze, the breath returning to his lungs as bucky released his grip and let him fall to the ground with a thud behind him.

bucky could hear your loud, jagged breathing as you stood as close as possible to him without raising suspicion. he almost broke away when he felt your hand grip his arm earlier. but he didn't dare look to you, instead he kept his stare locked on the bartender in front of him, waiting for the words.

"silby will see you now," the bartender was watching bucky with an uneasy expression across his face. you watched bucky's chest rising and falling, you wanted desperately to reach out and touch his hand but you had to remind yourself why you were in this position to begin with. you needed to follow zemo's lead, find the source of the super-soldier serum and then you could deal with how you were feeling later.

"you good?" your voice came out smaller than you intended it to. you studied his expression from his profile, his tight lips and clenched jaw, waiting for him to break and look at you, but he didn't. he let out a quiet, hmph, nodding once before following zemo and sam to the back of the club.

-

you wished you were back in the club watching bucky beat those guys to a pulp, because after the past few hours, things somehow managed to go from bad to worse. your lead was now dead, literally, you bumped into sharon, of all people, who was meaner than you ever remember her being, and there was also a bounty on all of your heads.

currently, you were sat alone after having picked out fresh clothes from sharon's closet. she had reluctantly let you guys crash at her place, agreeing to help find a lead to doctor nagel.

you weren't sure how long you'd been sat staring at the wall in front of you until you heard footsteps approaching the room you were in. you didn't have to look to know who it was, you already knew. he sat beside you quietly, without saying a word. you could feel his eyes on you for a while before you forced yourself to meet his gaze. it was the first time you'd looked at him as himself, since the incident earlier. you gulped, his blue eyes not shifting from your own for even a second.

"hey," he mumbled softly. your eyebrows knitted into a delicate frown, you found yourself biting down on your tongue again. "you good?" you nodded, close lipped as you shifted your eyes from his face and down to your hands. you hadn't noticed your hands had clenched into tight fists.

after a brief silence, you felt your fingers uncurl, bucky's hand now enclosed in your fist. you let out a shaky breath, revelling in the comfort his touch brought you. you fiddled with his fingers, a habit you had when you were anxious that bucky let you use him for.

"are you good?" you gulped, glancing at him for a second before focusing on your tangled hands again. he nodded, letting out a quiet hum.

"i wouldn't've gone in there if i thought i couldn't handle it," you nodded, feeling his hand squeeze yours briefly. "i came to check on you."

your eyes fluttered, a wave of tire washing over you suddenly. you shook your head. "i'm fine, don't worry," you said it out of habit, but you knew bucky was the type to always worry. especially when it came to you.

"i never wanted you to have to see that again," you knew he was referring to the winter soldier. you had fought him back in the day with sam, nat and steve, before any of you knew who he really was. you'd been through a lot together, only recently had you become more than friends. or at least, you were trying to give it a go, things just kept getting in the way.

"i hardly saw anything," you tried to lie to ease his conscience. you sighed, looking up into his eyes again, they were soft and inviting, his lashes fluttering slightly when you met his gaze.

"you've always been a terrible liar," he tightened his lips into a halfhearted, closed-mouthed smile, trying to ease some of your anxiety. you mimicked his weak attempt at a smile, moving closer to him and leaning your head atop his shoulder. he shifted his free arm around your waist, tugging you as close to him as possible, leaning down to press a lingering kiss atop your head.

"i just want you to be safe, buck," you admitted. "i don't like that you're having to go through all this again-- what with zemo-- and this place-- i see how people look at  you, how they talk to you."

"i know, doll," he mumbled, his lips resting softly against your temple now. you tried to relish in the short amount of time you had alone with him, your eyes closing for a moment as you breathed in his scent. "i don't like it either, but it's just for a bit longer."

you hummed quietly, letting yourself relax in his arm. your hand was still tangled with his own, your fidgeting had stopped and instead you let your fingers intertwine with his, him squeezing your hand now and again for reassurance.

"thank you for looking out for me," he spoke after a while of you two embracing each others company. "it's been a while, but it's a nice feeling."

you lifted your head, tilting your head back to get a good look at his face. he looked tired, but still wore a small, appreciative smile on his lips, along with his soft gaze. you felt your stomach flutter, you couldn't disguise a similar smile working it's way onto your lips. something about bucky was so sweet, in his nature, he cared so much for the people around him even if he was bad at communicating it sometimes. you wanted a better and quieter life for him when this was all finally over.

"it's nice to have someone to look out for," you muttered truthfully. you had spent such a long time fighting with the avengers, you'd never had the time to even go out on a date, never mind figuring out a relationship. and though it was difficult, sometimes, navigating your relationship with bucky, you knew at the end of the day, you liked him a lot, and you only wanted to be with him. and you were pretty sure he felt the same way towards you.

bucky's hand moved away from yours, to your chin, using his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin upwards, your face moving closer to his. he leaned down and caught his lips against yours, his hand drifting to your jawline, where he held your face in the palm of his hand. your mind thought of nothing but the feeling of his lips moving against yours, soft and slow.

it didn't matter what was going to happen next, as long as bucky was there with you.

"oh-- shit-- i should've knocked," you pulled away, chuckling against bucky's lips, peeking out the corner of your eye to see sam had walked in and frozen once he realised what he'd walked in on. bucky groaned, his eyes rolling. of course, sam was interrupting.

"please-- get out," he shot a stone-cold glare towards sam, who chuckled uncomfortably.

"oh-- i wish i could," he groaned. "that was something i wish i'd never seen-- but the party is starting soon-- we gotta get out there."

you broke away, realising your short, but sweet moment was over. you kissed bucky quickly, one last time before pushing yourself up trying to shake your head clear of any thoughts of your boyfriend so you could focus on the mission.

you heard sam lower his voice, thinking somehow you wouldn't be able to hear him as he hung back with bucky, you walking ahead. "how you still got game like that? you're like a hundred and two--"

"hundred and six," he corrected, frowning at his partner. " and stop talking about my game."

[cherryblossomtease]

Pleasures Remain, So Does the Pain - Masterlist

Sugar daddy Zemo vibes and his (eventually) two very happy sub babies (the winterbaron is a slow burn build up) are dishing out more angst, drama, and unnecessary emotional heartache than any three humans should ever be allowed.

Completed!

summary: Helmut Zemo was only supposed to be your weekend escape, but your heart just can't play by the rules especially When Zemo's past inevitably catches up with you both in the shape of James Bucky Barnes. Instead of running, your worlds collide and you find love in the arms of not one, but two very, different men.

A story of submission, dominance, discovery and love.

warnings: (18+MINORS DNI) m/f, m/m/f, DOM Zemo, Sub reader, Sub bucky, SSC, HARD punishment, spanking, public sex, controlled orgasms, orgasm denial, oral giving + receiving m/f eventual m/m + m/m/f, sub life, dom life, edging, m/m first time, begging, control, consensual forms of punishment, light shaming, one very intense pair of underwear, a stolen yacht, one French villa, a shared dildo, two very sweet dogs, navigating long distance, ball gags, designer clothes, private beaches, ropes, classic cars, and maybe, just maybe, a happily ever after… but you don’t need to be warned about that.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

[vdlest]

Says who?

Characters:

TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary:

You think Bucky hates you because he is too professional when you two are working on a mission, he doesn't do small talks, and he doesn't talk to you about any other thing aside from the mission itself. So when you had enough of his professionalism, you decided to confront him.

Warning:

Fluff

"Come on, Sam," you groaned and shook your head as you sat down on the couch on the compound, "I'm not numb, blind, and most of all, I'm not stupid. I know that old man friend of yours doesn't like me."

You, Sam, and Bucky just got back from Prague, and the three of you have gone straightly into the compound, but Bucky went back to his apartment to get some stuff but he'll be back in a few hours, so you took this opportunity to discuss your thing about Bucky's professionalism.

Ever since you joined Sam and Bucky on their missions, you already felt that Bucky doesn't like you and you think that he actually hates you because he won't look at you in your eyes when he's talking to you, and he'll only talk to you about the mission. You thought he's just like that to every woman he meets, but no, he's not like that to Sharon when you met her in Madripoor, and that made you feel so bad.

"Y/n, he doesn't hate you," Sam defended, "Just try to understand Bucky. He's still adjusting to this modern time and you are aware of what happened to him, right?"

You nodded, "That's why I'm asking you to move me to another mission. Reassign me. I can't stand to be on the same mission with a guy who doesn't like me," you sounded like you are pleading. "I have no problem with you, Sam. You're a good friend to me, but I don't want to force Bucky to work with me, I could see and I could feel that he's not okay to work with me," you added to your pleading.

Sam sat down beside you and exhaled sharply, "Y/n, I can't do that. You know why?" he asked and you answered him with a shook of your head, "Because we need you on this mission. We need your expertise, your skills. We badly need it."

His answer made you somehow feel guilty. You know Sam is telling the truth about your position on this mission, and it's a bit off if you'll decide to leave this mission just because you and Bucky don't share a good partnership.

"Why don't you just talk to Bucky? Try to befriend him, maybe he'll come along," Sam suggested.

When you first noticed Bucky's too much professionalism with you, you had no problem with it. You thought that your only agenda on this mission is to help them and continue the legacy that your late friends like Natasha, Tony, and Steve started on, especially it was Steve and Nat who made you believe in your capabilities as an Avenger. You also promised Steve that you won't leave the team, instead, you'll continue to fight on.

"I'll try to talk to him as well, but I got to tell you, y/n," Sam tapped your shoulder, "Bucky is a great guy. He's just really having a hard time adjusting to our era."

You scoffed, "Yeah, right. He's only like this to me, Sam. I saw how he treated and talked to Sharon when we were in Madripoor. He seems to really hate me that much," you sighed as you stood up, "Anyway, I have no choice but to endure his cocky attitude. I'll just go to my room," you excused yourself from Sam and made your way to the elevator.

While you were riding the elevator on your way to your floor, you kept on thinking about what you could possibly have done to make him hate you. Was it because you and Steve were close? Was he jealous of Steve's friendship with you? He shouldn't be because nothing beats their friendship, their brotherhood.

You're not yet on your floor when the elevator opened, and to your surprise, you saw Bucky with his duffel bag on his vibranium arm.

Great, how lucky I am, you said to yourself.

He was talking to Maria when the elevator opened, the two of them glance your way, Maria gave you a quick nod and a smile, but Bucky on the other hand just gave you a quick glance, nothing more, then he moved his eyes back to Maria.

You saw how Bucky chats with Maria, very far from how he talks to you, and that made you even more annoyed by the fact that you have no idea what you did to make Bucky so professional with you.

The elevator is about to close when Bucky moved his foot to stop it from closing, he was still talking to Maria.

"Excuse me, Mr. Barnes," you called his attention, which you succeed in, "I'm in a hurry and I got to make a few phone calls, so if you don't mind, just catch the next elevator," you glared at him and pressed the close button of the elevator, "Move your foot, please, Mr. Barnes," you tried your best to sound as professional and sarcastic as possible, and when he did, "Thank you," you flashed a sarcastic smile.

You stare at Bucky's surprised face as the elevator closes.

You've had enough of his unknown reason of being too professional around you. You are not overreacting since you witnessed the times when Bucky will have engaged in a conversation with other women or other colleagues in or out of the compound, but when it comes to having a conversation with you, it will always be about the mission, nothing more, nothing less.

The moment you reached your floor, you went inside your bedroom and prepared to take a shower. But just when you're about to enter the bathroom, someone knocked on your door.

"Who is it?" you yelled.

"It's me," Bucky's voice came out from the other side of the door.

Your brows furrowed upon hearing who it was.

"What do you want?" you asked, still yelling and still no plan in opening the door.

"Can we talk?"

Hearing an unexpected request from the person who hates you, you decided to open the door and face him.

You scoffed as you cross your arms in front of your chest, "What? About the mission?" you shook your head and scoff again, "Let's just do the briefing and the planning tomorrow. I want to take a rest and fi--"

You weren't able to finish what you were saying when Bucky suddenly kissed you, not just an ordinary kiss but a sweet, long kiss.

His hands traveled through your back to support it and prevent you from being out of balance as you feel surprised at what he just did.

You find yourself giving in to his kiss. You start to kiss him back, disregarding the confusion in your mind. You're confused about why the man who used to avoid making eye contact with you is now having a sword fighting type of kiss with you at the moment. The man who used to hate you is having a feast on your lips.

When you both heard the elevator sound, he immediately pulled the two of you inside your bedroom and he shut the door next, then gently slammed and pinned you against it as he continues to kiss you.

It was only a matter of a few seconds before you finally have enough courage to push him away.

"What the actual fuck, Barnes?!" you exclaimed when you met his gaze. You pushed him one more time, "You think you could just play with me? Make me feel confused even more? You think you can just kiss me because I'm a woman?! Well, I'm sorry, I'm not some kind of a woman that you can just toy with."

You walked past him and you're about to grab your phone to leave when he suddenly spoke behind you.

"You're right you are not some kind of a woman that I can play with because you are not just some kind of a woman to me! You were never just some kind of a woman to me!" you slowly turn around to face him, "You've always been special to me, and I'm too afraid, too coward to admit it."

Slowly, your brows furrowed, giving him the sign that you are still confused and puzzled.

Bucky took a deep breath as he also took a step close to you, "I don't hate you. I'm not mad at you. I don't feel any annoyance towards you. I actually feel the opposite," he admitted. "The moment I first met you through Steve, l already felt something different. I was still adjusting to the new world we are living in when we met, there's still darkness in my life, but through you, through the image of you, I found light," Bucky added, explaining his side.

"How is that even possible? We don't even- "

"Talk?" Bucky guessed, he chuckled afterward, "I have no idea as well, all I know is that you brought so many good and positive things to my life since then. I am fine with just looking and admiring you from afar. After all," he shook his head, "I don't think you deserve someone like me in your life, that's why I become content with the professional relationship we have. At least, I'm not gonna ruin anything. But when I heard you call and address me professionally, l felt my heart flinched and I soon realized why."

"Why?" you asked him.

Before he answers you, he moved another step closer and cupped your cheeks, "Because I want more. Because l can't stand with the idea that this is what we will ever be," he pressed his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, "I realized that I can't stand seeing you standing so close to me, and yet I can't tell you how much I like you, and I can't make you feel special to me," he murmured.

You finally know why Bucky was so aloof of you.

Every time you'd try to be friends with him, he won't let you because of what he feels for you.

"Why are you fighting it, Bucky?" you asked softly, your eyes are also closed, feeling his forehead against yours, "Why can't you just let it be? Why can't you just let fate do the work?" you asked him.

"Because," he pulled away and so you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, "Because I don't think you deserve someone like me."

"Because of your past?" you asked him.

He nodded, "Yes."

"Barnes, you should stop letting your past dictates what you should have in the present and in the future, you should never let your past ruin you and what's waiting for you up ahead," you grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest, where his heart is, "You should always listen to this," you smiled at him, "Because the only truth that matters is what's inside this."

"I'm sorry for making you feel that I hate you, for making you think that I don't want to be friends with you or anything. But you know what?" he smiled and shook his head, "I don't really want to be friends with you."

You frowned in confusion.

"Because I want more than that," he gently held you on your chin, "I hope you'd let me."

You smiled, "I was just waiting for you."

-v.dl

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love - Masterlist

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

Warnings: beefy!bucky, injury, mild language, mentions of crime, a bit of angst, eventual smut (MINORS DNI) , kind of slow burn ig, overwhelming fluff tbh

a/n: this will be a multi-part series and I will try my very best to upload regularly, not sure how many parts that will be so there's only a few placeholders for now, but it will definitely be a bit of a longer fic! im currently in college AND working so this is a passion project <3 I'd love to hear your feedback, my asks are always open! the chapters are also all based on lyrics from Taylor Swift's You Are In Love, one of my favorite love songs of all time. hope you all enjoy!!!

one - one look, dark room

two - meant just for you

three - time moved too fast

four - you play it back

TBC

[et-in-arkadia]

me:

my brain: bucky using steve’s actual notebook means that one of two events occurred—

either steve gave bucky the notebook himself as a means to ground bucky in the present, like, “i made a list of things that were important for me to catch up on, maybe now it could be helpful for you, buck”

OR bucky broke into wherever steve’s possessions were being stored after steve was gone and took something to remember steve by—something small, and personal, full of steve’s handwriting and steve’s memories, that bucky could easily keep with him

me:

my brain: both of these scenarios are absolutely devastating and you should think about nothing else

[lokiburdenedwithgloriouspurpose]

WE WILL NEVER FORGET YOU REDWING

even though there is people who wouldn’t ...

I love you Bucky lmao

[cryptke]

In the dead of winter, death came for a young soldier of the countryside. He lay out in the reddened landscape foreign to him, tears softening snow to mud as the night’s sky sang a lullaby of starshine and cosmic immateriality. The soldier waited for his mother’s mother to come and hold his hand so he could cross over. He waited, to feel warm again. Instead, the horseman came and swept him off his feet, taking him to a place of purgatory, a fogged hellscape of Slavic wrath and man-made horror in tune with archaic nightmares beyond recognition.

Seventy years later, sitting on a rooftop and behind the scope of a gun, the soldier still wishes to feel warm.

Look, Ma, I’m seeing the world.

[alohastyles-x]

I'll Always Be Here ✪ Bucky Barnes - One Shot-

Timeline: TFATWS

Warnings: slight violence/choking (not the kinky kind- sorry)

Summary:  After Steve passed, Bucky was plagued with nightmares of his actions as The Winter Soldier. You did your best to help him, but it wasn't an easy task. Fear of you leaving just like Steve did crippled him.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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You woke suddenly, startled by the metal arm that hit you in the chest. Looking next to you, you saw Bucky, asleep yet thrashing about.

"Bucky? Bucky!" You shouted, moving to his side. You shook him, attempting to wake him from this nightmare.

He began shouting in Russian, before his metal arm shot out, his metal hand around your throat. tightening slowly, while his flesh hand gripped the back of your hair. Panicking, you tried to claw his hand away from your throat, but to no avail.

"Bucky... stop... you're hurting... me" You gasped out. In an instant, he let you go and darted across the room to the corner. You clutched your throat, trying to catch your breath, as you turned around trying to find him. When you did, you almost teared up, seeing the grown man cowering in the corner, tears streaming down his face.

Once you could breathe properly again, you got up slowly, not wanting to spook him. You slowly made your way to him, and kneeling down in front of him.

"I- I'm sorry," He choked out.

"Shhh. It's okay because you were sleeping. You weren't in control." You reminded him, reaching out to pull him close to you. He flinched away, afraid he still wasn't in control of his actions. He was aware that during his time in Wakanda, they cut the ties between him and the words, but that didn't erase the pain, the fear, or the nightmares.

"Bucky, I'm not going to hurt you," You smiled, almost chuckling at the irony of him being afraid of you.

"No. But I might hurt you." You barely heard him say it, but when you registered what he said, your smile faded instantly.

"No. You're not. I'm not scared of you. Look at you. You're crying in the fetal position in a corner. You're not going to hurt me. I trust you." You said, moving your hands slowly to his face. The last words hit him like a truck. You trusted him? After what he just did? How?

You wiped away his tears, and pulled him gently too you, placing a kiss on his forehead. He moved ever so slightly out of the corner, allowing you to snake behind him, and place your arms around his neck. You held him, eventually moving one of your hands to rake through his hair.

After a while, he turned so he was facing you. His tears had dried, and his eyes were apologetic.

"Y/N... I'm-" He stopped when you gave him a look. He knew that look. It was your 'don't you are apologize Barnes' look.

"Thank you," he said instead, resting his forehead against yours.

"Of course babe. I will always be here for you." He sighed as you said that, knowing he should give in, and believe you, but fear held him back.

You noticed his sigh, and pulled back.

"You don't believe me?" You asked, a little hurt, but not surprised.

"It's just hard. Steve... he said the same thing."

You nodded, understanding.

"Well then I guess you're stuck with me, because I'm going to prove to you I'm not leaving. I meant it when I said 'I'll always be here'". You laughed a little, as his mouth twitched into a smirk.

"I think I'm okay with that." The mood was instantly lightened, and he crashed his lips onto yours, passion welling inside the both of you. Pulling away to laugh, he picked you up bridal style, and carried you over to the bed, plopping you down, before going back to kissing you.

And... Dot. Dot. Dot. (If you know, we can be best friends).

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A/N: I'm not sure if I like this one or not, but I feel like for my first imagine its not bad! Let me know how you liked it!

You can find these on my wattpad as well: https://www.wattpad.com/user/alohastyles_x