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samodivaa · 8 months

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Words don’t trigger him, emotions do

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Anger, resentment and especially, jealousy—those emotions were all he knew while you both spent decades at Hydra.

Warnings- angst, jealously, mental struggles, smut, possessive sex, love bites

Words- 3400

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And his love has its own dark morality when rivalry enters in, when another man dares to flirt with you and Bucky shall show well what he shows best.

“Hello, snowflake" he says "Hope I'm...interrupting”

There is an intonation so bitter and so imperative that the man who you are talking with shallows hard. The words which are set in the air—in themselves they are simple and sweet. But his jealousy, protectiveness are a living thing. Shifting, changing, growing.

"Do you know the man?" he asks politely, blue eyes burning with violence.

There is a natural comorbidity between possessiveness and jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill.

„Yeah, I do,“ you reply and Bucky feels alone in the moment your eyes break contact—and in a fever, among the walls of the bar, he looks around too, a thickening twilight peeps out in his mind.

"Who is he?" he asks in a pleasant but cold voice, now clearly less friendly than before.

„It doesn’t matter“ you smile softly, that sentence is a uttered curse to Bucky’s ears. Immediately, his guard is up.

Bucky is silent for a moment, suffocated by the situation, ringing in his ears, and the heart—it will bust.

The simplicity of your answer spreads as frost, closing off the light of his eyes. His mind starts racing once again, a nameless emotion has nested in Bucky – who is that guy?

Bucky sits on your left side before he leans on the counter next to you, with his metal hand and puts his right one on his tight, closer to his gun strapped there.

You know him, you know that behavior— this yearning to protect, tearing at his insides like hunger and thirst. It is not love. Love is warm and soft, like a bed of leaves. But this is dark, like the shade under a poisonous shrub, and it is hungry. So hungry.

You know its' name—Winter.

You're stuck with him. Not for a few decades, not for centuries. You're tied to him forever. That's why you are good at putting out his flame before it grows—the frame he still carries from the past.

Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, apart from its inconvenience there's even something touching about it—his starless nights eyes—his face, as if it has been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life.

You are equipped to handle what he has, both past and present—package deal of both. In other words, you have been assigned a load you can handle.

“Bucky-”

“Let's go home, it’s getting late” he interrupts, in a soft, vicious voice.

“Give me ten minutes”

He feels like a thread has come between you when he hears your answer, tugging, tugging at his heart—so hard, it hurts him.

You glare at each other. He closes his eyes, because there is a petulant woundedness with which he stares back at you.

Neither of you say a word until Bucky moves, leaning back against the counter, and folding his arms over his chest. It takes all his concentration, to keep from ripping out this man’s throat. But Bucky shoves the familiar fury down, to the place where he stifles Winter's power.

“Okay”

He says as he looks over to the man, and wants him to say something mean so he would have an excuse to shoot him. Bucky is something dark and beautiful, in conflict with what he shows to the world and what he truly feels inside, it is hard to control it.

A worry deep in you stir, but you ignore it for now, pushing it down as best you can with the distraction of music and whiskey.

You fully turn to the man and all Bucky wants is your full attention. He wants your gaze to stay fixed on him, only him. He wants to stare into those beautiful eyes for as long as he lives.

Every avalanche begins with the movement of a single snowflake, and you are this Snowflake tonight.

When the ten minute mark hits you hear a quiet screeching sound—he has carved a small heart on the counter with his index metal finger—you can’t believe how jealousy has him gagging, his blue eyes are clouded before he lowers his gaze to the floor.

Snow is super soft, bottomless and amazingly light, yet supportive—until you take a wrong turn and feel every crystal reacting within your soul, suffocating you. Bucky has lost himself in the emotional storm: it takes so little this time, to put fuel in his cynical heart.

“Bucky…” you whisper and your eyes meet, his actual humanity can’t seem to triumph over the rage and jealousy this time, something you hardly imagine in your wildest dreams.

And this is the secret you both share—the kind you don't dare to let out—Words don't trigger him, but emotions do. You can’t leave them unnoticed, unattended and unsolved.

“Let's head home”

Your language has been lost for so long at Hydra. But not the gestures. It is almost comforting, this mutual acceptance of understanding each other without the need for words.

He maintains his silence, but he slowly gets up—he doesn’t look back, he knows you are following him closely. Of course you do, but you think about what has just happened

While you were looking into his eyes, there were fragments of his inner struggle that were deeply repressed—he always tries to repress the past. It’s hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such dirty work, or if he was ashamed to voice them.

The truth is that he would rather dig his own heart out, with a knife, than admit it. A while ago he let you know that it's hard to control certain emotions—but he didn’t want to throw his intimacy in front of you, especially when he cares.

But nothing stays secret forever

You are trying to heal too, but, finally, there are things which he is afraid to divulge even to himself—he needs you, he needs your reassurance, he feels like someone will snatch you from his hands, damn his split personalities and untrustworthy habits from the past, but he can’t help it, it scares him.

You are both unearthed by deception, torture, brainwashing, whose essence was shrouded by Hydra—your own father naming the Winter Soldier program after his own daughter, you, stringing you with Bucky together—the yearning theme of your life.

After you escaped Hydra, you went your separate ways until he came back to you, searching for someone who understands him.

That was a year ago.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wants you, the more my desire rises and swells—

“Bucky” He shakes his head in exasperation, not stopping as he climbs the stairs to your shared apartment, aiming for the door, but he can’t stay with you, not when he is not fully himself “Bucky, stop, talk to me”

You have known him for so long, you can see the pride through his words, the truth through his silence, and the anger through his smile.

Always.

“Soldat“ he turns to you, perusing your body as he comes to stand in front of you, his abysses as deep as those of love, finally meet yours.

That realization takes about a nanosecond to register in Bucky’s brain before the real important information comes to the forefront—you’ve noticed.

He lowers his head toward you, so you could feel his breath warm against your skin, your mouths only inches apart

“Why did you call me that?”

He has no answer nor idea, just a never-ending list of questions, he is searching for a loophole that increasingly feels like a noose—he denies it, he tries to—you are not entitled to exposing him like that.

How hollow is it for him to have no secrets left—Bucky's love gives, and Soldat's lust takes.

His gaze, improper, is the most sensual thing he can have done at this moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm as you speak

“Tell me, how can I help?” You put your hands on his chest, your eyes still locked and an unwelcome sensation pierces you.

“You already know” he says thoughtfully as his cool gaze devours you “snezinka” (snowflake) and his lusty grin when he says that, it's sinful—and pleasurable.

“There is nothing to worry about. Do whatever you want to make yourself feel better” All you want to do is make him feel better, to drown his worries in your embrace.

Both shame and worry drown themselves in the dark eyes that stare back at him.

You.

Only you.

Bucky dreads this power you have over him.

Everything you say is exceedingly obvious, and undoubtedly true, but he feels that something more obscure, more frightening lurks in the back of your mind.

You don’t halt the hands he lays on your waist when he pushes you, backing you into the door.

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1968–1969, Zhao Jianmin Spy Case

„That is going to be mass murder, send them together.“

This mission is a long, never-ending massacre, it never ends.

He is lost in your eyes, it’s eating him alive.

Corpses fill the floor, the sight of gore is peaceful in your corrupted existence. He becomes obsessed in this moment of solitude with you, he has the need to touch you and you respond with a kiss, blood all over your face.

Your wretched fate is shared, your need for touch also.

Winter’s lust betrays him as he pushes you against the wall, feasting on your lips and neck, his hands running up and down your back.

“Relax, Winter” you giggle as you gently press your fingers into his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss as he looms over you- waiting with a predatory grin.

„I need you, Samodiva“ he slurs, eyebrows furrowed as he glances up at you. His trembling fingers touch the strings in vain, wanting to find the right notes from the fading memory, Soldat wants his soul to vibrate again; with lust, with love.

He knows you feel his arousal, your closeness causing him to grow hard, inhaling sharply, enjoying the sensations you are eliciting in him.

“I need you, too” you finally answer without faltering.

This is all Soldat needs to hear - his tongue flicking lightly over your neck once again, tracing the skin slowly, eliciting a moan from your lips, bodies acting on instinct.

A soft squeak escapes your puffy lips, the tension building up in your body too fast, too soon. Winter puts his hands around your waist, your pants already unbuckled, surrendered to him.

He wastes no time, there's no time left… his hands suddenly drop to his own pants, popping the button open and then pulling down the zipper.

The feeling of your insides drains all of his self power to not come on the first trust, he moves at an excruciating slowly pace, fucking you into the bloodstained walls, there is a glimpse of human nature when you fill the room with moans.

„I am yours,“ he whispers, his words sending a series of chills through her.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

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“1968, do you remember?“ he groans as he brushes his mouth against your cheek. The plea in his tone floods your veins with a whole different form of power “Just say no, snezinka-”

“This is exactly what I want“ you counter. As you arch your back, pressing the tips of your breasts against his chest, closing your eyes at the whisper of a kiss, at the hunger that ravages inside you.

He leans down more, his mouth only inches from yours. “Fuck,” the barely leashes growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in your body flares to life.

Bucky loves seeing you pinned to the door—his control balancing precariously on the point of a knife. He tightens his hands holding you even closer, until your chest is pressed against his own, you can feel his hard cock pressing between your bodies.

All he needs is one push.

And you are about to shamelessly shove.

“Come on, I can take it” you tilt your head up to his and draw his bottom lip between yours, sucking before gently nipping him with your teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, okay” He speaks against your throat and finishes one languorous stroke up the column of your neck.

It breaches something within him, and he gives in.

Finally, mouths collides, and the kiss is hot and hard—it invades his body, abolishing any constraints and bringing to life the desire for you. It grounds him firmly in the moment and drags his body in it, too—Bucky wants to be the only thing touching you, the only thing that touches you ever again. He is kissing the shell of your ear, nipping at it gently and then soothing the nips with soft kisses.

Rage. Lust. Jealousy. Past. Preset. Every day is a reminder of how nothing stays the same, every day an exercise in variability, resilience, understating and trust.

You love the seasons, but, you must admit—at the risk of offending the others—Winter is your very favorite one. What a beautiful madness, to explore the darkness in his old self and find joy in the unearthing of such a wicked past.

He craves you, he kisses you again.

When your mouth touches his, it is like a blade glancing off metal—the darkness inside him briefly lights up with violence and rage before the emptiness comes flooding in like a black lake—you see it in his eyes.

“Let’s get inside '' he hears your whisper and he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers. He might be lust-intoxicated, but he always cares.

Tonight, you have successfully deflected his attention from the gloomy thoughts and the contemplation of his past—his lust rushes, but his love makes him wait.

His love lasted for decades—will last for a lifetime.

Awash with trepidation, you two manage to get into the apartment, but the moment you lock the door—your back is against the wall again.

All those desires Bucky has felt in passing have culminated, growing deeper, hungrier, darker—he can do whatever he wants with you.

That through alone causes trouble below his belt.

He pulls his shirt over his head, the sight of his sculpted muscles, crisscrossed with countless scars. They have the strange power to remind you both that the past is real.

Bucky’s hands languidly roam the curves and valleys of your body as his kisses became sensual, slow and deep. There is such a luster in his eyes that you have to look away, but when you look back at him, his gaze hasn’t moved, still focused on your face.

Then he shifts his mouth to your neck for a hard love-bite that makes you cry out— the need to possess you, to claim you, he never did that before.

But even though you feel his erection stir as you press your hips against his, he doesn't attempt to resume the lovemaking in full, he catches you around your slender waist again and brings you close to whisper teasingly in your ear

“Ты - ��оя, слышишь?”

You begin to feel a familiar wetness form between your legs.

“Bucky,” you call out, impatient with desire.

But that exact position triggers so much delight, of the heated memory—he has all the time in the world, not as the last time.

He kisses you like he has forgotten how your mouth tastes—with a curious childish delight, kisses like wants to take you dancing.

As you pull apart, you remove your own shirt and his teeth scraping down the skin of your neck, his hands sliding around back to remove your bra, tossing it aside.

His right hand makes its way up, passing over a mark left by a bullet—your cheeks heat, and your breath hitches, but you can’t look away, you follow his hand with your eyes.

“I was not there when you got shot” he says as his fingertip skims the top of your breasts “When was that?” he uses the vibranium arm to lift one of the long locks of your hair to his lips and inhales the scent.

“It doesn’t matter”

And maybe you are right, but it stands as a reminder yet again of how you too escaped death's touch before. It was almost...normal for you back then.

Bucky takes a breast into his mouth to suck at it vigorously as you shiver in his grasp, the metal hand sides down to your waist to keep you against the wall.

You let out a small moan as you feel his hardness tighten and press even more insistently against you.

You worm your hands between your bodies, opening his jeans, freeing his length from the confines of his boxer-briefs, then reaching in to caress it and he burying his face in your neck to stifle his groan.

Bucky shudders when when you take him in your hand, stroking him painfully slowly. He allows it for several moments before hiking up the skirt of your dress to quickly tear your damp underwear.

He rubs a hand down your leg, fingers curling behind your knee and pulls it to his hip.

You instinctively jump, he catches you, abandoning his attempts of fingering you in favor of grabbing your hips, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist.

He loves you.

He loves you because nature wills it as it did for decades.

Because you are already long united by the past.

The bare flesh on every part of you always belonged to him, the scent emitting from your skin is his—he loves you, but he doesn't dare tell you that.

You have become Bucky’s favorite hiding place over the past year, the place he put every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, you keep him safe.

You have possessed him—and you never knew it.

He has been dependent on exactly how close he can have you next to him, how long he can get to stay at your apartment—making various excuses every time until you suggested to him to move in with you two months ago.

“Bucky,”

you tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to continue, running your hands over his shoulders.

Your voice pulls him out of what was ravaging in his mind, all those thoughts, but then he kisses as he roughly inserted his cock with no warning, you let out a surprised gasp as his forehead falls to your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips and pressing you against the wall more firmly when he bottoms out, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of your body against him.

You are made for him, made for fucking.

“I love biting you, I need it” his voice is brittle, not saying anything else.

You stare like he is something you can’t comprehend, something unexpected – willingly admitting.

Your fingers thread gently through his hair and you can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to claim you, to reach the white-hot ecstasy.

You have never seen him like that.

He bites his way along your jaw to the base of your throat. His mouth is hard and punishing, lathering your skin with marks—ferocity burns in his gaze promising something primal—thrusting into you wildly, trying to elongate your pleasure for as long as possible, but suddenly he is choking on moans as waves of climatic bliss are sent throughout his body.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

This night you learn about his jealousy, it has you starving to learn more about this side of him. A new hunger that you know you will satisfy only with time.

His steel blue eyes hide a nearly irresistible urge to claim you—it’s hard for Bucky to control it when the incurable desolation of Winter exaggerates in displaying old emotions.

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mr-president · 1 year

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manic pixie dream girl x the ex-soldier boy she was written to save

#not really but u get the vibes #fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #fear and hunger marina #o’saa #fear and hunger levi #samarie #i wanted to draw the “’so she’s smiling at me and telling me she loves me—OH MY GOD I DONT FUCKING CARE’ meme w marina n o’saa (n samarie)#but i can’t edit so someone pls make that and i will kiss u :3 #pls im begging #o’saa the yellow mage #levi the ex-soldier #marina the occultist #my art

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catsurfavs · 19 days

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One more

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #emesis blue #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #spy be talking about himself frfr #anyways i think theyre exes #thank you for coming tommyntedtalk #<i messed upnthat tag but im too lazy tonfix it #catsurfavs draws humans again

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malum-forev · 15 days

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Have Had You and Lost You

I promise I'm uploading Dr.Bee pt 2 after this one, sorry to everyone who was expecting that one but I CANNOT GET OVER EX HUSBAND BUCKY.

"You'll find the juice boxes on the second shelf," You hurry around your kitchen, heels in one hand and your perfume in the other one. "He likes his juice decanted and he'll probably tell you he likes it room temperature but, Wells thinks room temperature means a little cold so you need to put one ice cube in his sippy cup."

Bucky nods, trying his hardest not to laugh. "Decant, room temperature. When did our five year old become a restaurant critic."

"Sometimes I'm afraid we made a mistake by letting him hang out at the Stark mansion." You laugh. "Every time I pick him up, he's learnt a new word and needs to use it at least three times in every sentence."

"Last time he was at my house he called Bluey exquisite." Bucky throws his head back with laughter. As soon as the sound hits your ears you truly feel, for a second, the world has stopped.

It's that same uninhibited laugh that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. You knew his years of torment had built a tall wall around his heart, and having him share these relaxed moments with you meant the world. That laugh was a special thing only the two of you shared.

But reality settled in once he asked the question you've been avoiding.

"So, who is he?"

Your bottom lip became trapped between your teeth as you thought how to answer his question. His blue eyes shifted all over your face, trying to read any expression you gave him.

Maybe you should have told him the truth but, you had been finally getting along after a long and tiresome divorce. So, you decided on a happy medium, no answer at all.

"Hmm," Bucky scratches the stubble on his chin. "You don't want to tell me his name."

"I never said that." You point out, feeling the vein on your temple throb.

"Your tell is a traitor," Bucky hums, running the back of his finger on your temple. "Maybe you don't want to tell me because I know him."

"He's no one." You turned away from him.

"You were never a good liar," Bucky says with a dry laugh. "So, I do know him."

"It's hard for you to not know someone in town, Buck."

"He's someone from around here, then." Bucky's eyebrows shot up.

He has to give it to the mystery man, never in his life did he think someone would have the balls to ask his ex wife on a date. Especially not someone who works in the compound.

Bucky and you had decided it would be best if you and Wells kept living close to him, so the change wouldn't affect your son too much. You'd decided on the town closest to the compound. A sleepy town, a couple of thousand habitants, mostly ex SHEILD agents and their families.

"You're really not going to tell me anything about the guy?"

You slip your heels on, keeping your lips shut.

"Is he a doctor? A nurse?" You roll your eyes.

He continues. "Is he in tech?"

"Better yet!" Bucky snaps his fingers like he's just had the idea of the century. "He's a trainee and I'm his direct superior. That would be the cherry on top."

"We've been on a couple of dates," You finally say something. "Three to be exact."

Bucky raises his eyebrows. "The coveted fourth date."

"Don't." You roll your eyes. "It's not like that."

"I'm not judging," He raises his arms in defense. "I understand you need to get your fix, we're all human, doll."

You groan.

"What?" Bucky comes closer, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You can talk about your sex life with me, darling. I'm not the jealous type."

"Bucky," You say, your tone warning. "you can't be the jealous type."

"There isn't anything here," You wave your finger between the two of you. "To be jealous of."

As you look back up at him, his smile seems forced. Bucky tries to keep his cool attitude up but, you know him too well to believe it.

"I left some money on the countertop so you can order pizza." You change the subject, feeling the air become tense.

"Don't treat me like I'm the sitter." Bucky scoffs. "Wells is my son too, and I can most certainly pay for a pizza."

"I- I" You stuttered. Trying to rack your brain for an apology, maybe explain that you didn't mean it like that but it was cut short by two honks coming from your driveway.

"He can't even ring the fucking doorbell," He scoffs again. "What a catch."

You turn and leave without speaking another word to your ex husband.

As hard as you tried, you couldn't get Bucky's words out of your head. It wasn't helping that your date was more interested in talking about himself and his recent promotion than even asking how your day went.

When had life become this way?

Once upon a time you were a woman who wouldn't settle for less than perfection and respect when looking for a man. You'd even walked out on a fair share of "New York's Elite", which usually meant men working in the finance district who think their dick is holy.

Which is why, when the ever so charming and chivalrous James Buchanan Barnes came into your life, you swore off stupid and unappreciative men.

Now, you're ordering your third glass of wine just so you can bare listening to the man you've accepted a fourth date from.

The dish you've ordered is now cold, and you're in no mood to listen to another word.

And just like that, your guardian angel answers your prayers.

Your phone lights up with a text from Bucky.

Bucky: Wells is fine, fed and asleep. Answer the call if you need to get out of the date.

Not even a few seconds later, your phone rings.

You barely have any time to decide whether you should do this or not. But your body reacts faster than your brain.

"Hello?" You answer shakily, holding a finger up to your date.

"Is he a field agent or a computers guy." Is the first thing Bucky says.

"Wells has a fever? Is he okay?" You say.

"That bad of a date, huh?" Bucky says through the receiver.

Bad date was an understatement. Your date couldn't care less that your son was feeling under the weather, he was too preoccupied looking over the dessert menu. But not even if hell froze over would you tell Bucky that!

"I think it's best if I come back home." You tell your date, getting up from your chair with your bag and coat in hand.

"Wait! One last guess!" Bucky says on the phone. "He's the guy who's in charge of sharpening my knives."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes." You mutter, hanging up the phone and leaving your date behind.

By the time you're back home, Bucky's leaning on the door frame holding two glasses of wine, waiting for you.

You shut the taxi's door and walk past your ex husband and into your house.

"Not a single word." You warn as you pass by Bucky, taking both glasses. You down the first one and get started on the second one.

"Should I keep guessing who the mystery man is or..."

"He's part of Banner's research team," You groan throwing your head back. "There, happy?"

"Happy that the mother of my child is dating some loser who can't even come to the door for her?" Bucky raises his eyebrow. "Of course I'm not happy."

"Well not everyone has the 40's mentality Buck." You sigh, looking down at piece of pizza Bucky heated up for you.

"You're worth it." Bucky's eyes look crystal as they look at you. "All the roses and the dates and the opening of car doors, everything I did for you was because you're amazing and you're worth it."

Words escape your mind.

"I was too much of an idiot to let you go." Bucky looks down at the floor. "But please don't let anyone who won't take the time to cherish you, have you."

"Because to have had you, and lost you, is a pain only those who've truly love you have."

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! Would love to hear your feedback. K thankssss BRB writing Dr.Bee pt 2 as we speak.

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so-very-small · 2 months

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“Hey- whoa man, you haven’t been this tiny in a minute. Are you alright?”

I am not alright.

I am half an inch tall, hopping from letter to letter on my phone, composing a text draft so dramatic it could be on par with Greek myth.

“I blocked Sam,” I say. My (comparatively) giant friend lights up. “And then I unblocked them. And then blocked them. I went back and forth on that til I was about a foot tall.”

“Dude.”

“Now I’m trying to text them and man, the phrasing, it’s-“

And with that, I’m snatched up by two fingertips taller than me. They’ve always been gentle.

“Okay, you’re staying with me til you’re over your ex, buddy. And til you’re a bit taller.”

(And they’ve always been firm, when they’ve needed to.)

They set me on their shoulder, ignoring all protest as they grab my phone and delete the poem I had been composing. My swears don’t even phase them. I know it’s for the best, but dude, that took me like, an hour of cardio to type.

#*twirls hair* i think i should be given a war medal. some kind of heroic award #girls who block their exs are the bravest soldiers in the fucking world #im sittingn here like. its been a month!!! what do u mean no contact means forever. hello #anyways i think i need to write something absolutely fucked up and tragic. for no reason.#maybe return to my beloved oc marty

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aceduchessdragoness · 4 months

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Uploaded on 1 January, 2024 by [@]ahmedeldin and [@]hiddenpalestine on Instagram

"An ex-Israeli soldier describes the IDF’s strategy of targeting residences of innocent Palestinians, entering them, and subjecting occupants to harassment. This tactic aimed to instill fear and deny innocent Palestinians a sense of security on their own land, inside their own homes.

Another soldier who is [@]breakingthesilenceisrael shares the horrific reality of his past, reflecting his inhumane treatment of Palestinians and his complete domination over them.

#BreakTheSilence#humanrights#ceasefirenow"

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[id: The video captions read as follows (grammar/punctuation done by me):

[This stays on the screen the entire video] Former Israeli soldiers explain how the IDF acted without any limits, selecting homes belonging to innocent Palestinians, invade them, and harass its inhabitants

1st soldier: Every house in the West Bank actually has a number. Each and every house has a number. So, we would open up the maps and look at the specific house that looked into the right place that we had to enter – (a) city centre or a road – and after we would verify that the house has the best parameters, windows, and geographical area, we made sure the people in the house were innocent. So, you – we – we would enter a house of (an) innocent Palestinian home in the middle of the night.

But I would say that what motivated me eventually to break my silence – was the piercing eyes of the young Palestinians when I was barging into their house in the middle of the night. I could always justify it to myself, but those eyes, the anger, their fear, was what eventually helped me overcome that. The house of a physician in Nablus for example, that I entered in the middle of the night, taking him, his wife, and his daughter, and pushing them in the (a) room – If they wanted to use their bathroom, or their kitchen, or use their phone, they need permission from me. That specific house in Nablus stayed with me for a while because that physician himself was kind enough and generous enough to sit down and explain to me what it means to be a Palestinian. And I thought that I was a good moral soldier, that I was actually helping entrench the occupation in that sense.

[For the second clip, this stays on the screen for the entire time, too] ex-Israel soldier explains what is happening

So this (these) Jewish settlers that live in Havaan are living under the same rights that I live in, in Jerusalem, but the Palestinians next to them, next house over – next building over, sometimes next apartment over – lives under my rule, my military rule. And I can do whatever I want with him: I can take his home as a temporary base for a few hours, to a few days, to a few weeks. I can decide that I’m arresting the people of the house and tying him up to the fence of my base.

If you will get an order to demolish their home, or just lock their front door and don’t let them out into the street – their house is on a street that only Jews (Jewish) settlers can walk on, and Palestinian cannot – so they have to walk through windows to (through) yards into the other side, into the casbah of Lebanon. I think realizing all of that in a very, very early stage in my service help (helped) me undertood that someone was lying to me along the way. I didn’t feel like I’m protecting anyone, I didn’t feel like I’m helping anyone feeling more safe. I feel like I’m terrorizing people, I feel like for the first time in my life, the boundaries between good and bad that I learned as a kid – and obviously I know that I’m on the good side – was broken. I felt like I am the terrorist and my job was literally to scare people so they cannot think about acting against Israeli settlers, or the Israeli military. That was actually our defined mission. /id]

#palestine #gaza #israel #ex soldier #zionism #muslin #arabic #middle east #instagram #free palestine #free gaza #ceasefire now

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buckrecs · 1 year

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Do you have any "exes to lovers" Bucky fanfic recs for me? 🥹

Exes to Lovers

masterlist | req masterlist

I would never leave my bby boi . .. …🧎🏻‍♂️but these fics were so good

ONESHOT

even more by @real-jane

The love of Bucky's life left months ago. After months of agonizing over what it meant to be apart, they wonder if it's possible to find their way together again.

Understudy by @wkemeup

Bucky knew after he'd ended things, you'd eventually move on. But when he's confronted with the reality of you with another man, he's certain it will tear him apart

goodbye by @lovelybarnes

“enemies to lovers with bucky”

Promises, promises by @babyboibucky

You believed that promises are meant to be broken but Bucky always proved you wrong. Until one day, he proved you right.

Heartbeat by @delusionalwriterr

“Call one of your exes and ask them why it didn’t work out.”

jealousy and james buchanan barnes by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky had had an ugly breakup months ago. He mistakenly thought he had moved past his feelings for you, until he saw you hanging out with another guy at one of Tony’s parties. He appears to be having some difficulty containing his jealousy, to say the least.

and then there were none by @bucky-bucket-barnes

It had been two months since Bucky and you broke off things. In a moment of heartache and weakness, he couldn’t help but call you just to hear your voice again. You spend the night trying to patch up what happened between you two.

After All This Time by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

impending danger puts you and your ex, Bucky, in close quarters.

Yours by @jadedvibes

You broke up with Bucky right before college to pursue your career goals across the country. You didn’t think the first time you’d see him again years later would be in your office after he was arrested for a crime you know he didn’t commit.

In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning by @hopelessromantic423

After breaking up with Bucky, you miss him greatly but you don’t feel it’s your place to contact him. One sleepless night, Bucky shows up at your doorstep and you two reconcile.

morning after by @alisonsfics

accidentally running into one your roommate’s flings the next morning was sufficiently awkward. what makes it worse is when one of her flings is your ex-boyfriend.

was your favorite by @quietmyfearswith

in which bucky barnes still lives with his ex-girlfriend following their break up.

Understudy by @wkemeup

Bucky knew after he’d ended things, you’d eventually move on. But when he’s confronted with the reality of you with another man, he’s certain it will tear him apart

Incomplete by @ro-is-struggling

When your relationship started to have problems you and Bucky agreed that the best thing to do would be to break up. At the time it had sounded like the only option you had left. But now, several months later, Bucky was beginning to wonder if he had done the right thing because the pain in his heart and the emptiness in his chest only seemed to grow with each passing day.

Trying Not To Love You by @waiting4inspiration

Bucky thinks that trying to forget his love for you after your break up But he realizes that the more he tries to not love you, he finds himself loving you more

stay as long as you want by @buckysblanket

I Hope You’re Okay by @breadqueen95

Bucky is filled with doubt and confusion after the events of Endgame. He breaks up with Y/n, reacting badly to his instinct to isolate himself. She’s more than a little confused; they’d fallen in love in Wakanda. What had changed? Months later, Sam is the only connection they still have. Set during the events of TFATWS, can Sam get his idiot friends to finally get over themselves and admit how much they still need each other?

SERIES

Looking For A Heartbeat by @justreadingfics

You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. Now, it’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

His Wedding by @jurassicbarnes

Bucky and you are exes. He moved on but you couldn’t. Since you both are still friends, he asks you for a favor – a ridiculous one. You reluctantly agree, not thinking of the future consequences you’ll have to face. You just hope everything will be fine. But it doesn’t always work out, does it?

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #winter soldier x reader #ex!bucky #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes angst #boyfriend!bucky #ex!bucky x reader #exes to lovers

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