#fatws fanfic

[bi-disaster-yn]

No but like… Coming Out as Bi to Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!bisexual!Reader

Summary: Reader comes out as bi to her boyfriend, Bucky and he’s a total sweetheart about it.

Format: Drabble

A/N: Just a cute lil drabble for any bi Bucky girlies like myself!!

There was no doubt in your mind that Bucky loved you. He was a doting and caring boyfriend who always tended to your needs and listened intently to you. Everyday, he would shower you with affection and remind you how much he loved you and how lucky he was to be with you.

However, it didn’t escape your notice that he grew up in the early half of the 20th century, a time period not exactly known for being notoriously LGBT friendly. It made you worry that he might not be able to accept your bisexuality.

Bucky had retained some old man habits such as insisting that he read the newspaper on paper rather on a computer as that’s how it was intended. He had set a prohibition on phones being present at the dinner table as back in his day people would actually have a conversation. He enjoyed 40s music and would rant endlessly that people don’t go dancing the way he used to. You found all of this about him endearing, especially when he would assert that you’d be the prettiest girl there and all of the other guys would be jealous. Nonetheless, it also made you deeply concerned that he could be harbouring some homophobic tendencies amongst those quaint ideals.

Whilst you loved him and only wanted to be with him, you felt that you were hiding something from having not came out to him yet. You were scared that he wouldn’t be able to accept it. Previous boyfriends hadn’t taken it seriously, often using it as an excuse to ask for a threesome or even recoiling in horror that you could ever possibly be attracted to more than one gender. And they had the advantage of having actually been raised in this century.

Looking over at Bucky, sitting on your sofa and reading his newspaper (in the paper hard copy of course), you knew you just had to rip this bandaid off and tell him. Afterall, this was a fundamental and beautiful part of you that you couldn’t change. If he couldn’t accept that, then that was his problem.

“Buck.” You announced, breaking the comfortable silence that was centred around you both.

“Hmm?” He asked, not looking up from the sports section. His eyebrows were knitted together in concentration as he analysed the reports as if he hadn’t heard them all before on the radio.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay, sweetheart. What’s up?” He folded his paper up properly and sat it to the his side, giving you his undivided attention. The corners of his mouth stretched into a little smile which was encouraging but you still felt a hint of dread.

“Well you see… the thing is… erm, I don’t know how to say this…” you cringed at your inability to say this properly. This was your boyfriend, he’d seen every single inch of you, he knew your deepest and darkest insecurities and even your most embarrassing childhood memory. How could this be so difficult?

“Doll, you’re starting to freak me out a little. Can you please just tell me what’s wrong?” Bucky frowned and moved so he was sitting at the edge of his seat, ready to reach out for you as he could sense how uncomfortable you were.

“I’m bisexual!” You blurted out. Bucky nodded at you and stayed silent. “Meaning I am attracted to more than one gen-“

“I was born in 1917, I think I’ve lived long enough to know what being bisexual is, baby.” Bucky chuckled at you. His face softened at your confession, relieved that it wasn’t something more sinister. You, on the other hand, were at a loss for words.

“Okay… so? What? Don’t you have an opinion on it?” You looked at him with a puzzled expression. He was so much calmer than you had expected him to be. You were the one delivering the news that was meant to be shocking but it was him making you do a double take.

“Am I supposed to have an opinion on it?” He raised his eyebrow. You stuttered and stammered in response, still in shock at his level of indifference to the situation. In comparison to telling your previous boyfriends which set off painful explosions that motivated shame and self-loathing within you, this was nothing.

Bucky could see you were internalising your reaction and he offered his arms out for you to sit on his lap. Your mind had went into overdrive trying to process his reaction that you didn’t even register the steps you took towards him to take your place on his knee. He wrapped his arms round your waist, pulling you close to his chest and kissed your cheek.

“Who promised me that they’d always love me, no matter what?” Bucky asked, running his thumb along your thigh soothingly.

“I did.” You mumbled in response.

“Exactly, you did. And I think I was pretty clear that I loved you no matter what, and if I wasn’t then this is me reminding you. So, why were you so nervous?” He squeezed your waist reassuringly and you started to feel more at ease. It allowed you to press on and voice your original concerns.

“It’s just that… you lived in the 40s! I can’t exactly imagine that the pride parades were lighting up the streets. You come from a time that people used to be arrested for being like me!” You confessed to him, looking into his deep blue eyes in search of some sort of understanding.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Bucky admitted. “But I am learning a lot, which you should be taking a good chunk of the credit for,” he gave you another squeeze which prompted a giggle from you. “And honestly, the fact is, you were born that way. I love everything about you, including this. No wait, especially this. Thank you for telling me and trusting me with it.”

Your heart warmed in a way that you had noticed had been specifically reserved for Bucky. You gave him a sweet kiss and rubbed your thumb along his jaw, unable to stop the widening smile on your face that made your cheeks hurt. “Thank you for being so understanding. That really meant a lot to me. Like, you have no idea. I love you so much, sweetie.”

Bucky smiled at you and peppered kisses all over your face, relishing in the giggles this brought out in you. “You’re my best girl. Nothing could change how I feel about you. Nothing at all.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes Drabble #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes one shot #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes x bi!fem!reader #no but like #fatws bucky #beefy bucky #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #the falcon and the winter soldier #fatws fanfic #Bucky Barnes fic #James Bucky Barnes

[ronearoundblindly]

Alternate Moves

Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes

Summary: Sometimes it's hard to tell which is beside Sam: Bucky or his alt, Winter. (Warning for cute flufangst, which is a word because I'm telling you it's a word.)

The TV is too loud, but Sam knows that’s how Bucky likes it. A chipper, classic film is playing, one of those where the conflict is barely a conflict, one of those where the man and woman who always had feelings for each other finally admit it and all is well. It’s a particularly fancy one, too, one that glows with the first days of technicolor. The characters are in what looks like a palace (Sam is hardly paying attention) and about to enjoy some ball. Sam stopped paying attention two commercial breaks ago when he realized the only black faces in the film were servants.

Bucky’s enthralled though. Sam won’t make a sound, won’t say a thing about it, until after Bucky gets all the joy he can from it. Bucky’s eating like a kid scarfing down breakfast while watching Saturday morning cartoons, except for it’s Wednesday night and they’re eating meatloaf. So Sam sits and (discreetly) watches Bucky watch the TV. 

They’re at adjacent corners of the dining table.

The ball starts. Huge hoop skirts fly up and about. Hands are offered, and the characters begin to dance.

“We could do that, ya know,” Sam says, pushing around the last few bites of his food and glancing over.

Bucky’s focus doesn’t waver. He’s finished his food and his arms are on the table by his empty plate, but Bucky is still staring at the TV. His jaw goes tight for a split second, and his answer is almost a distant breath. “I don’t remember how.” 

While Sam searches his friend’s face for an indication Bucky understood his meaning, he has a whimsical thought. “Oh, so you think I’d let you lead?” Sam smiles and adds a deep laugh to the end, checking the screen. It’s a big moment for the protagonists; they’re finally getting together. The dance is a show of affection, their true feelings, and Sam’s hand almost absently slides over to Bucky’s. His middle finger is the first point of contact, followed by his ring, and soon all four are smoothing over into an open but shaky palm. 

When Sam finally turns and looks at Bucky's face, the man’s eyes are wide and questioning, glaring daggers towards the spot where they’re connected. The veins in Bucky’s pale wrist stand out, and Sam thinks he hears Buck’s breath come faster, more sharply. “Is this okay?” Sam barely curls his hand, leaving plenty of space for Bucky to pull away, just in case, but he never moves.

Sam looks up to see Bucky’s eyes have softened a little, and his gaze is more curious than offended. “Hey, can you look at me?” Blue eyes jump up. “Is this okay? I can stop--”

Bucky’s hand closes gently against Sam’s.

His heart leaps into his throat. Sam has waited so, so long, gone so excruciatingly slowly to acclimate Bucky to trust him. This is the first time Sam’s touched Bucky in a distinctly romantic way. They’ve hugged--especially after Bucky comes down from an agitated high or after a fight--sure, but nothing that ever felt private, intimate. Because Sam spent so long expecting nothing at all, he’s beyond thrilled by this little gesture, thrilled to the point his toes tuck in under the chair so he can lean just a tiny bit closer.

A crescendo in the music from the TV draws Bucky’s attention back across the room, and Sam can see some recognition of the movements as Bucky’s head follows the beats.

“I think you’d be surprised how quickly it comes back. You wanna try?” He lifts their hands an inch or two off the table, an offering to lead only where Bucky is willing to follow. Sam won’t let himself get too excited, but it’s good. It’s great actually. It’s progress; it’s hope.

It’s also then that Sam notices, curiously, that Bucky’s hand is not as warm as he would have expected, that maybe Bucky does actually have poor circulation (comparatively) in his hand just like he says to pass off wearing gloves in public. While Sam’s distracted by the feel of Bucky’s skin on his, the rough callused palm beneath the pads of his fingers, Bucky gently squeezes again.

“I’d like that.”

It’s not perfect, but Sam’s elated Bucky even tries. They stand in front of the couch with hands clasped together. Sam tries not to be critical or bossy when Bucky barrels forward when he should have stepped back. All in all, Sam is happy he knows what Bucky’s skin feels like and that he didn’t get punched for some of his bad jokes along the way. He’s nervous, too; who could blame him?

Sam is also not surprised when Bucky closes off again even later on that night, clicking off the TV and offering a simple grunt before heading to his room. It takes days for Sam to remind himself to not take it personally; Bucky’s constantly taking tiny steps forward and backwards, and he knows it’s important to let the sway continue. Don’t rock the boat. The sea of Buck’s mind is choppy enough without someone from the inside pushing it this way and that.

What Sam can’t control, try as he might, is how grumpy it makes him to have a glimmer of hope smothered by these little cowering movements. He and Bucky are dancing alright: dancing around each other like polar ends of a magnet.

It’s weeks later when Sam’s staring at the remnants of meatloaf on his plate again, the sound of the too-loud TV grating on his frayed nerves, that he finally cracks.

“Ok, I’m sorry--” Sam drops the fork onto the plate so hard it scrapes, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms tight across his chest “--is that what I needed to say? I’m sorry! Maybe I shouldn’t have--dammit, Buck--” Sam claps his hand over his mouth. He’s not trying to scare Bucky, but he wants a sign, any sign, any miniscule show of openness to even another handhold. He’s willing to ask for it now, finally.

Bucky cocks his head to the side, looking down at his plate and back up. “It tastes fine, Sam.”

“Not the fucking food.” It’s funny, but it’s not because Sam doesn’t want to smile and laugh. He just wants a straight answer.

Bucky looks back down at his plate and then to the TV and then around his shoulder to the kitchen. When he turns back around, it’s slow, and his eyes are narrow. “What...did you break?” His voice is low and steady.

I broke my sanity, you idiot, that’s what. Sam takes a very, very deep breath of his own and tries again. “I’m sorry.” He sits back up and clamps his hands a little too hard around his knees. “I know the dance was probably a bit much for you, so that’s fine. But I would like permission to hold your hand again.” Man, if that fucking therapist could see me now, Sam thinks. He’s finally articulated something so important to him, in the clearest possible way, that the lump in his throat releases.

Apparently, the lump gets relodged in Bucky, who is staring at Sam like an accusing lawyer. He starts a word, then stops. He puts his own fork down, opens his mouth, and nothing. Then Bucky leans, something serious and dark passing over his eyes. He croaks out a single word. “Again?”

Sam’s insides liquify and plummet to the floor. He feels heavy, not just with guilt but with shame for not putting it together.

It wasn’t Bucky.

And now Bucky knows that he wasn’t Bucky around Sam, alone, and they touched.

The deepest voice Bucky can manage rips through that lump in his throat. “What did Winter do, Sam?”

“Woah!” Both chairs go flying out from beneath them. “Woah, hold on, Buck. It wasn’t--”

Sam has several choices and none of them are ideal. There’s no insignificant chance that Winter was coming out again simply to save Bucky the shock. Bucky could also be mad at Sam for admitting the gesture full-stop, could be angry he himself did not get to say ‘no’ which is a legitimate fear for obvious reasons. Or...this could happen.

***

Bucky’s heart rate spikes; he feels the rush in his ears and that one massive pulse point in his neck, that one that stretched painfully taut in the chair as voltage surged through his body. He’s not standing in the living room for a few seconds. He can feel the hard surface of Hydra’s chair poking between his shoulder blades, but there isn’t anything there. He knows it, but he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t know shit. He can’t understand shit.

And he’s saying that out loud…

“I don’t remember!”

“That’s ok.”

Sam lets him pace around the room, and it’s annoying. It’s embarrassing. Bucky is still here being embarrassed, and goddammit, Winter has taken some things. They just aren’t usually good things. Because Bucky’s here, goddammit, and this should be good. 

“Buddy, seriously, either way, it’s not--”

“It is a big deal, Sam. When even--” His brain is on fire. There’s so much rushing through it all at once, and Bucky gets stressed a lot, gets overwhelmed a lot, dissociates from a lot of things. Those moments though...this feels worse.

He’s mad. His blood is practically boiling at this point, and Winter is probably coming. Bucky’s paying close attention to the edges of his vision, details in the room or fuzzy areas. He’s searching his brain as if that rolodex of ‘other shit you don’t understand and can’t remember’ will help.

Edges don’t feel soft. He doesn’t feel small and removed from the room; he feels like a bull in a china shop. He’s pissed and very, very aware that he’s in this room with Sam right now, but Bucky also knows that he was in this room with Sam Wilson when he missed something. That hurts. That makes the rage feel all the better, but worse, because Sam can see it. Sam will remember this even if Bucky won’t. Everyone knows more than him. Everyone remembers except Bucky.

Music is blaring from the TV as Bucky strides by.

Sam mentioned dancing.

Bucky knows they watched a movie with dancing a while ago. He can remember getting excited about the dance because it looked like something he used to know. Then he got flustered and frustrated trying to remember. Then he knew why remembering was so difficult. The choreography of dances was over-written by various kill shots and lethal fighting moves long ago. Every dance he participated in for the last half-century was a dance of death. Those weren’t things to admit to, things to want to remember.

Bucky thought he’d just forgotten the movie, thought he’d zoned out because it was just a movie and he was tired. That’s because he could remember being tired on the couch and something else was on the screen, some foul-mouthed cartoon he didn’t like, and so he’d gone to bed.

Just like that night, Sam’s now tucking in all the chairs around the table, clearing all the plates and breakable glasses away and out of reach. He always returns to behind the couch, center of the room.

But Sam said he wanted--

“I don’t understand why you would want that,” Bucky bursts, “why you would want me. I’m a mess.” He looks at his right hand for a second, but seeing the flesh and knowing it can’t let him relive the moment pisses him off more. He would rather it sting, would rather the flesh hurt like his brain hurts him now, so Bucky punches his vibranium fist hard into the flat of his hand and grinds it a little. He can feel it, and it sure as shit stings. Added bonus, the shock of pain gives Bucky an excuse for the prickling at his eyes.

The pacing is taking him from corner to corner of the big room in three strides flat. It’s too small. Bucky is too big to fit in the room. “You touch me, and I can’t--I can’t possibly. That’s not fair.” He’s blubbering like a child at this point, and it’s making him more angry. A tiny part of him is actually trying to call Winter forward because it feels like that would be easier, easier to not know, easier to forget. It’s not.

Sam is making small circles, following him with turns and ghosting steps in his general direction. “I never should have tried, and I’m sorry. It clearly pushed--I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“I’m not mad that you did it,” Bucky screeches from the other side of the couch, significantly louder than the still blaring TV. “I’m mad that I don’t remember!”

“Ok, so we know now, and we just make new memories, Buck.” Sam chances a lot to come around the corner of the sofa. Bucky’s actually vibrating with rage. His vibranium arm is whirring in anticipation of something dramatic, something that might make Bucky feel better but something that might just as well hurt Sam.

If he orders Sam to stay away, Sam might do it, and that is a crushing realization that has the rage that spreads Bucky’s chest wide imploding on itself like a spent fire. He’ll do it. He’ll stay away. Bucky will have nothing. Bucky deserves nothing.

Though the shaking continues, he’s much quieter now. “It’s good I don’t remember. Because I don’t deserve it. I am not--”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sam jumps forward. “I’m not kidding, don’t say it again.” His deep brown eyes are flooded with a different kind of anger, a kind of violent defense that Bucky recognizes from their time together fighting. Sam’s ready to go to war; Bucky just has to say the word. It’s perfect, and he’s perfect. Bucky knows this. He understands this.

Bucky collapses into the springy cushion beneath him, exhausted, done fighting something he has no control over. “I cannot possibly be worthy of that, and you know it.” He looks up at Sam with watery eyes but mutters through the bubbles in his throat. “Winter knows it. The world goddamn knows it.”

“Bullshit.” Sam shoves his hand into Bucky’s, and the soldier looks up at him with confused, exhausted fury.

“What are you doing?” All edges of the room appear sharp. The only softness is in front of him and being shockingly mean.

“I’m holding your fucking hand, idiot. What does it look like?” Sam drags his thumb over all four of Bucky’s flesh fingers, a solid caress with an addition tinge of don’t make it weird, stupid pushed in.

Bucky looks down at their hands. He’s feeling...everything all at once, but the gesture is hard, not gentle. As the first one may have left room for panic, this one grips at him--at him--with certainty.

Sam kneels down beside the arm of the couch where their hands are resting. “You can be him a million times, Buck, but I will show you this a million times more.” He brings the bundle of their fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of Bucky’s hand.

“Plus, you cannot possibly be a worse dancer.”

Bucky huffs a choked laugh out, using his metal hand to grab below the neckline of his shirt and lift it to wipe his burning cheeks. “Well, that’s just...just…” Bucky says, “obvious.” He may not remember all the moves, but he knows that he did know them once. Winter never did. Winter, too, had never had a moment of kindness like this. In a way, Bucky’s grateful he got to experience that, and as he holds up Sam’s hand in his, he also knows they are even for now.

Even--that is--right after Bucky leads Sam in a dance.

Find more stories on my masterlist! Thank you for reading, loves.

#winterfalcon #fluff and feels #angst with a happy ending #fluff and romance #sam wilson fanfiction #bucky barnes #sam wilson #fatws fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #sambucky #sam x bucky #tfatws

[justinewt]

One World, One People - MARVEL REWRITE Chapter Nineteen

 [MARVEL REWRITE-MASTERLIST] - [THE MULTIVERSE SAGA]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (??/??)

Summary: TBA

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: TFAWS spoilers (episode 6 specifically), Marvel phase 4 spoilers, angst, some violence, fighting, injuries, deaths, inspirational speech, FLUFF

“I’m almost there.” Sam told them over the radio as Bucky and Frainn walked towards the building, all geared up with their suits on.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky inquired, looking around them as if he was scanning the area and the people there. Frainn was really just staring ahead with a straight face, glancing over at Bucky every now and then.

“Karli’s gotta be close. Keep your eyes open.”

“Well, it could be anybody.” He retorted.

“Sergeant Barnes. Staff sergeant Lokadottir.” Soldiers positioned at a checkpoint in front of the building greeted the two former soldiers as they let them through. She almost never used her military title, so she wasn’t very used to it still, but she didn’t react at all, showing no emotions on her porcelain face while Bucky didn’t reply or say anything either, frowning as he kept observing their surroundings.

“And by the way, I called in some backups.” Sam added. Frainn felt movement behind them and looked from the corner of her eyes, not turning around until the person spoke up and she stopped in her tracks suddenly, leading to the man almost running into her.

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am—"

“You can address me as sir too.” She gave a tight smile, feeling something was off with the guy. The man held up his hand to his face and kind of tapped on his temple before taking off his beanie and pulling something from his face, revealing Sharon underneath.

“Relax. It’s just me.”

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Bucky asked, surprised to see her away from Madripoor.

“No one’s looking for me here.” She reassured, even though Frainn wasn’t really thinking of the agent’s safety. The goddess didn’t care much. Sharon led the two towards the building, so they wouldn’t just stand there.

“Is that Sharon?” Sam wondered.

“Unfortunately.” Frainn replied keeping a light tone of voice so as not to make it awkward if she came off as suddenly bitter and hateful towards Sharon. She just didn’t like the blonde woman, for some reason.

“Hey, Sal. I thought I’d get the band back together.”

“Thank you. You’re risking a lot coming here.” He said, expressing his gratitude to her over the radio.

“I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky retorted with a straight face, looking around as Sam continued talking.

“They’ll move on the building soon. Be ready.” Frainn nodded, listening to their friend’s words, crossing her arms over her chest in a sigh. It was going to be a long night and she didn’t exactly look forward to it, but neither did Bucky, Sam, or even Sharon for that matter. Bucky and Sharon eventually entered the building and Frainn followed suit, sticking with her long-time partner while the former SHIELD agent went another way, to cover more grounds in finding where Karli was at the moment. “Sharon, Bucky, Frainn, what’s going on on your end?”

“Nothing. All quiet.” Bucky informed him.

“No one’s moving towards the building.” Sharon added.

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everyone out.” Sam said and Frainn frowned a bit, watching their surroundings as they marched. “You guys are gonna have to do something. Don’t let ‘em out of the building.” They walked through a metal detector upon entering the building and Bucky and Frainn stopped in surprise when the latter beeped at Sharon’s passage. Bucky’s arm was made of vibranium, which wasn’t a metal that could be detected by those machines and Frainn’s spear was something that wasn’t even of this earth, so of course it was Sharon and the possible gun she had on her that made the machine go off.

“Oops.” She muttered. Bucky and Frainn were quick to change their focus and brush off this minor incident, as they had something more preoccupating and urgent to think about.

“Here’s one of them.” Bucky noted. “I’ll get the evac.”

“I can take them out.”

“I know. But be careful.” He sighed, seemingly not wanting to argue with her about engaging with the enemy right now. She was a bit surprised that he was willing to let her go after them without trying to make her change her mind and just stay with him as he tried to locate Karli but maybe he felt that she needed some action right now and in any case, she was clever and cunning, she wouldn’t cause a mess if there was no need and even if she did, she could cover it up with her magic and no one would notice until she lifted the trickery. Frainn nodded at Bucky, and they parted ways. She disguised herself as the man Bucky pointed at a second ago and walked to the area where they had seen him, because it meant there would be more nearby. She eventually found the man and came up to him from behind before before landing a powerful kick to his back, knocking him into a beam of the building. He hit his head hard and fell to the ground heavily as a crack appeared in the concrete or whatever the building was made off and she shrugged, recovering her original appearance. It was fun playing around with her powers, but it was even more entertaining to use her surhuman strength on mundane people.

She wasn’t pleased to inflict pain, suffering or humiliation on anyone she went after, she was only satisfied to see her power and maybe it was because of her father, but she sometimes liked to show off a little. Not necessarily to impress anyone because she didn’t care about people’s praises, not random people’s at least, and really just wanted to challenge herself whenever she had the opportunity to fight. Frainn sighed and in the blink of an eye, a green sparkling light passed over her tall body and she was wearing an outfit similar to her father’s, which she often favored over her own suit, to commemorate him and his memory she would say and it was partially true. But it was mainly because it made her feel greatly closer to him, since it was his signature clothes, and she liked his style a lot so it was with pleasure that she was doing so. It made her think of what Sam told her and Bucky, a few days ago when they left his home in Louisiana. She had to face her demons if she wanted things to get better for her and facing her demons surely meant working on her grief and the tragic and unfair death of her father and entire people. She couldn’t continue to hallucinate her father anytime she would be in front of a mirror and on her own, it was just not viable on the long term and she started to see that. She remembered her uncle, Thor, after he lost Loki and then her in the snap. He was in bad shape, burying himself in his self-loathing and drinking. She didn’t want to do that. For her own sake, but also for Bucky, and Sam.

She advanced in a hallway. The red lights all over the place gave a strange vibe to the building as she walked, which she didn’t like very much. She looked to her side as she passed a corner and a man jumped towards her. It wasn’t like fighting Thanos. She didn’t need the entirety of the Avengers and heroes from all over the galaxy to defeat one man, whether or not he was a supersoldier. She was stronger and more powerful, and those bad guys were no match for her godly self. She grunted as he kicked her chest and she went through a window, breaking the glass and falling on the floor. She stood up like nothing happened, frowning angrily and just tensed her fingers and used her power of telekinesis, throwing him away with force, letting out a growl. She heard the man’s spine crack as it broke while she shook her hair to take the pieces of glass out, annoyed. The glass cracked under her boots as she resumed her walk through the building, thinking of joining Bucky if she couldn't find anything here except uninteresting Flag Smashers jumping from behind the corners. They were maybe super soldiers but in front of her, they were as fragile as any human.

Frainn walked by a fully glazed wall and saw Bucky in the center of the building, a phone to his ear, speaking to someone. She figured it was Karli and teleported herself to him, obviously taking him by surprise as the conversation ended. He looked down at the phone in his hand and gritted his teeth.

“Damn it!” He groaned before he started running and without a question, Frainn followed him. She would ask him later about the call. They rushed down to the parking lot of the building and immediately got on motorbikes parked there.

“Seriously guys, you had one job.” Sharon sneered as she stood nearby, hidden behind a beam.

“You worry about your guy.” Bucky retorted, the two-wheeled engines whirring, and they drove off, exiting the scene. Gradually accelerating their course, the two drove through an alley and passed a guarded barricade, ignoring the calls of the people there. They had to be quick and catch up with wherever the senators were being evacuated to.

“Bucky! Frainn!” Sam called in, grunting loudly.

“We don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” He replied, taking a turn and stopping the bike for a second, reving the engine before driving off again. Frainn could many things, among which was the ability to teleport herself but without knowing where to, this was a bit useless.  This wasn’t a power she had really worked on in her life so she couldn’t use it to its full potential. She had prioritized powers like her godly ones and telekinesis rather than this one. After a minute, they reached another barricaded zone but this time they couldn’t pass through. Bucky leaned forward on his bike, throwing himself off of it and rolled on the ground while Frainn crouched on the seat of her bike and jumped, landing on her feet when Bucky dragged someone in his fall. It was a Flag Smasher. Around them were the two police trucks in which were trapped all the senators. Bucky and the Flag Smasher started throwing punches and kicks at each other and the goddess analized the surroundings at gods’ speed, figuring out what to do first in that moment. She tensed her fingers, slightly stretching her arms to her sides, bending and cracking the metal of the trucks’ doors so the senators could get out until a fire suddenly blew in her face and she fell and rolled on her side, gasping for air. This was her only weakness and somehow, the Flag Smasher figured that out. The senators screamed inside the vehicules while Frainn was leaning on the palm of her hand, she was suddenly helped up by Bucky who apparently managed to put an end to the fight he was in. When he turned her to face him, he widened his eyes and she didn’t understand but she pushed him away, urging him to help these people. She wasn’t feeling her best, and quite uncomfortable at that but it wasn’t time to worry about her. She would get over whatever seemed to worry the former soldier.

Bucky approached one vehicle and pulled on the damaged doors, forcing them open. Frainn swallowed harshly as a warm sensation starting rose around her face, but she ignored it and helped Bucky as he pulled on the door’s handle. A couple of seconds later, the door gave way and hti the concrete in a metal sound. Frainn generated a clone of herself and took a step back when she saw the fresh burn that ate half her porcelain face. She never saw an injury like this on herself because usually, it would be gone in a matter of seconds, but this was different. It was like a lick from Surtr himself, a burning stain to a Jotun.

“Thank you for saving us.” Frainn looked to Bucky and a man that was inside the truck shook his hand feverishly, thanking him as the others nodded at Frainn, running through the illusion of herself she casted and causing it to fade away and disappear. She was still a little set aback by this sight but regained her composure and let her body take the appearance of her ancestors, her skin going blue and eyes as red as blood, hoping that the burn would go away faster in this form.

“You’re welcome.” Bucky mumbled as the politicians fled the scene and he turned to Frainn, the same worry she saw on his face returning as he looked at her.  

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go.” She declared and turning around, running down the road along with him. She was done playing now, and the Flag Smashers would wish they had never done this, but she saw it as somehow of a punishment for maybe going soft and not going full force against them, as they deserved. She wouldn’t let her guard down again. Bucky rushed at a Flag Smasher pulling a pole from the ground over Walker who was on the ground, holding up a shield and Frainn frowned and narrowed her eyes. The shield was a really shitty makeshift version of Steve’s, and she shook her head and watched the old soldier throw a punch at the Flag Smasher, sending him against a wire netting wall behind him. The man fell to the ground on his side and while Bucky walked towards him as he got back on his feet, Frainn approached, judging that he was fine, so she stayed put until she saw Karli join in on the fight with the pole her peer had pulled from the concrete. Karli repeatly tried to hit Bucky with the pole but the goddess made it fly from her hands, making lose her balance and Bucky grabbed some chains lying on a low wall nearby and hit her in the face. She grunts as she fell. The other Flag Smasher went to kick Bucky and sent him off the construction building. She ran after him as he jumped off in turn, holding a beam in his hands.

She pinned him down, holding the beam against his throat as he struggled against her. He hit her in the jaw with the beam and she groaned, spitting the blood that filled her mouth onto his mask. She cooled down her body, her skin turning blue and her eyes red as it they were completely bloodshot, right up to her pupil, her jaw clenched and frowned eyebrows. She tensed up her hands and got rid of the beam, sending it crashing into a wall, in a thud, raising a cloud of dust. She brought her hand to his neck and held him up in front of her as she got on her feet. His screams piercing through the night. She didn’t have to squeeze much to inflict such pain and when she saw his head tilt to the side, his eyes closed, she just threw him away like he was garbage. She sighed as her body came back to normal when suddenly they heard metal beams creak over them and looked up, only to see a vehicle dangerously hanging over the edge. They exchanged a look and Frainn channeled her telekinesis and wind control and kept the car from falling over until they saw it being very lightly pulled away from the edge for a few seconds so she let go but when Walker fell along with some Flag Smasher, she saw the car gradually plunge into the void when she let out a chuckle of relied upon seeing Sam arriving and helping the car not go down. With her powers, she brought him a little assistance to bring the car back to the top.

She only realized there were people watching when she heard cheering afterwards and she looked around and saw people gathered on the street, some of them holding up their phones and filming the moments, smile stretching their lips. The goddess finally took a second to look at Sam and who she saw wasn’t just their dear friend, it was Captain America. But the relief was quick to fade away when she turned around suddenly after Bucky caught something in his vibranium hand and the two looked at Karli. The moment the girl thought of making another move, the shield came flying around, knocking out the Flag Smasher, all in the blink of an eye. Karli faced Sam, taking off her mask to a disappointed face.

“You of all people bought into that bullshit.”

“I’m trying something different. Maybe you should do the same.” He retorted. Suddenly, a series of sounds of explosions echoed around them, releasing a thick cloud of grey smoke obstructing their vision. People started screaming as a gun was being fired from an upper floor of the worksite. Frainn looked around, unsettled until she, Bucky and Walker heard Sam voice. “This way.” With a clanking sound, Sam put the shield on his back, and the four of them ran in the said direction.

“Hey, Sharon. We’re underground.” Bucky told her over the comms. “We entered the tunnel on William. Heading South.”

“Looks like they’ve split up. Here.” Sam pointed to an adjacent corridor and Walker didn’t even stop in his tracks and just went that way.

“We got it.” Bucky said as he and Frainn followed the jerk with the blonde hair and the hero syndrome. They ran outside and found a few Flag Smashers, masks off, trying to sneak away.

“Mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice.” Walker declared as they walked in front of them. Frainn glanced at him, frowning in confusion. She had no clue if he was quoting someone, in which case she had no idea who it was, or if he had been cooking that one up just waiting to say it to look wise or something.

“It’s a great app.” Bucky added, showing them the phone screen in his hand, hinting as to how the three soldiers got to them. There was a second of silence before police officers arrived from the side and behind them, surrounding them. “Thank you.” He then said, leaving them in the hands of the police before walking away. For some reason, Walker thought it be a good idea to give a friendly pat in Frainn’s back and she just shot him a pissed gaze, pushing his arm away. “Lincoln, really?”

“Great man. Great quote.”

“Not when you say it.”

“Who the fuck is Lincoln?” Frainn asked, out of the blue. Only Walker seemed surprised to hear her ask such a question.

“How can you not know who Lincoln is?”

“I’m not from your realm, dumbass. I didn’t study Midgard’s history, all right?” She groaned.

“Midgard?”

“Ugh, Midgard is how my people named this fucking planet.”

“Lincoln was our 16th President.” Bucky informed her.

“Thank you.” She said in relief, shoting up her eyebrows.

The lights of ambulances and police cars flashed around them with a crowd gathering behind barriers, holding their phones in front of them, filming as Sam descended from the sky, carrying Karli's body in his arms. The rescued Senators watched as well, in silence. It was like no one dared to make a sound until their new Captain America landed softly on the ground and walked forward as a couple of firefighters in dark uniforms brought a stretcher on which he lied the late leader of the Flag Smasher. Bucky, Frainn and Walker took a few steps and Sam walked, ignoring the reporters suddenly trying to get his attention, asking questions after questions in hope of an answer. Bucky leaned against an ambulance and Frainn crossed her arms over her chest, watching Sam talk with a few Senators.

“Sam, thank you so much, from all of us.”

“Sincerely.” One of the senators added. “You did your part in dealing with those terrorists, now we’ll do ours.”

“Are you still going forward with resetting borders?” Sam inquired.

“Our peacekeeping troops will begin relocating people soon. The terrorists only set us back a bit."

"You have to stop calling them terrorists." He said, shaking his head.

“What else would we call them?”

“Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions into settlements around the world, right?” The man nodded and Sam continued. “What do you think those people are gonna call you? These labels, “terrorists”, “refugee”, “thug”, they’re often used to get around the question, why?”

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?”

“Yes.”

“And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless?” The senator wondered. “Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.”

“You know what? You’re right. And that’s a good thing.” He turned to the politician as the latter walked past him. “We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging, and I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is… now you know. How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you could remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful it could erase half the planet, you would know that you’re about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions, Senator.”

“You just don’t understand.” He insisted, dismissing the whole speech Sam was giving. He only scoffed and smirked at his reply.

“I’m a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here… I feel it. The stares, the judgment.” He looked at the people standing around him. “And there’s nothin’ I can do to change it. Yet, I’m still here. No super serum, no blond hari, or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better. We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meed them halfway. Look, you control the banks. Shit, you can move borders! You can knock down a forest with an email, you can feed a million people with a phone call. But the question is, who’s in the room when you’re making those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you?” There was a heavy silence, as the senators had no answer to give to this. Frainn let out a silent sigh, squeezing her arms slightly. “I mean, this girl died trying to stop you, and no one has stopped for one second to ask why.” He rose his voice a bit and pointed at the senator to his side; just a bald old man that really needed to be knocked some sense into to get it, and Sam was brilliantly doing so. “You’ve gotta do better, Senator. You’ve gotta step up. Because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t wanna see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god,” Frainn felt some people glance over at her, but she knew better. She wasn’t targeted by Sam’s words. “or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is, “How are you going to use it?” On these words, Sam walked past the Senators, giving a formal nod at Walker on his way and he came to meet with his two pals. Bucky straightened up.

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, “a Black guy in stars and stripes”.” He shrugged and the three of them chuckled as they walked away from the crowd behind them. “Nice job, Cap.” He then added softly.

“Thanks.” Frainn let her arms hanging to her side, a smile stretching her lips as they approached Sharon, leaning against a car, pressing gauze against her wound.

“Blocking my light.”

“We gotta get you to a hospital.” Sam exclaimed.

“She’s not gonna listen.” Bucky figured. Sharon glanced at him, panting, before looking down at her stomach.

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.”

“Told you.”

“Uh, Cap?” A man called.

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon said, breathing heavily and Sam silently chortled. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” He chuckled at the compliment.

“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky asked, giving looks to Frainn and Sharon. Frainn put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, and they nodded at Sam as they walked away with Sharon, living the new Captain America to do Captain America’s things.

“I didn’t forget my promise.” Sam reminded Sharon before they got too far.

“I really need to do this.” Bucky said heavily, as he put on his coat, standing near the door of their apartment. Frainn was slumped on the couch, her head resting on the back, face turned to the old super soldier.

“I know.” She nodded and he stared at her with an anxious and concerned gaze and he bent over to press a soft kiss on her lips and walked out of the apartment. She swallowed harshly, staring at the ceiling as she heard the lock clicks and his steps becoming more faded and muffled as he stepped away. She eventually stood up and picked up a golden rod sticking out of a bag lying on the floor. In the blink of an eye, it stretched to its full size, hitting the floor suddenly and she froze in silence, thinking the noise must have echoed in the apartment below. She put her spear against the wall and sighed. “Sucks you can’t summon the Bifrost. I wonder how Thor’s doing.”

She pursed her lips, thinking for a second and walked to the bedroom to take her phone lying on the nightstand. She sat on the mattress, facing the window and unlocked it. She looked up “Thor” and “New Asgard” on the search bar and read dozens of articles about this Midgardian Asgard where her people sought refuge after Asgard was no more than a memory. She learned that this New Asgard had become quite the sensation, with lots of tourists going there. She was a bit taken aback, not really knowing what to make of that, having trouble to think that this place was anything like Asgard. She would have to see it for herself someday but it would probably not feel like home. Yes, Asgard isn’t a place, it’s a people, thank you Heimdall, but she found her real home and it’s not among Asgardians or Jotuns. Her home was wherever Bucky was. Her longtime love. Frainn scrolled down the results when she typed “Thor” in the search bar and she found things talking about Jane Foster, and her death. She had been suffering from a cancer and found help in Mjolnir’s power and Frainn’s first thought was literally that it’s power should be too draining for a mortal to channel it and use it, and it was exactly what had happened. It accelerated her condition and she died, sooner than she would have. She looked at the dates of the articles and they all had been written in late 2023, less than 6 months ago.

She felt guilty, like she had let her uncle down, never even checking on him after the last battle against Thanos. She stood up, letting her phone fall and jump on the mattress and opened the windows. The buzzing sound of the cars passing by, honking and their tires screeching on the asphalt and the loud and indistinct chatter of the people walking down the street; it all came flooding in the apartment the moment she opened the window. New York was definitely a restless city and she had seen places more beautiful than this but this place, Brooklyn, was so meaningful to Bucky and her. It was the first sight she ever had of Midgard, where she met Steve and Bucky in the early 40s and where so much had happened. She had more memories of this city on Midgard than of the realm she spent hundreds of years in. She stepped away from the window and stared at her phone, resting on his screen, and bit the inside of her cheek. If Asgard had become such an attractive tourist destination, there must be a number to contact.

She had heard Valkyrie had become king of this place, but Frainn shook her head and walked out of the bedroom, deciding not to try and call anyone, at least for now. She was worried they despised her for ghosting them for so long, after everything that happened but she honestly had so much here already, she was with her family. She sighed at this thought. Thor was her family. He was her uncle, adoptive but her uncle in any case and she didn’t think of trying to reach out to him. She went to the kitchen and opened a drawer to get a bottle opened and she bent over to get a beer in the fridge. She must have been the worst family member to have, and she felt awful for it, but she knew her uncle, and how much he loved Loki, and her. He was probably sad and surely thinking of calling her or going where she was to see her but never did so, for whatever reasons -which were probably the same reasons why she never did so either. It was as if, as long as he wasn’t dead, she didn’t think much about it. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, she was just not worried about him, not like she was worried for Bucky’s wellbeing… or even hers. The ghost of her father still wouldn’t leave her alone and she was running out of ideas as to what to do about it. Maybe a little stay in New Asgard would help her slay her demons.

The warmth and friendliness of the people in Lousiana, was second to none. Sam's home had a beauty that was very different to anything Frainn had ever encountered. She had seen many palaces, covered in gold or made out of ice but nothing so welcoming and genuine. And the colorful and appetizing smells of barbecued sea food where something she had never experienced either; it was an absolute first. In this place, with these people, there was this feeling that she couldn’t do anything but fully enjoy the experience and it was somewhat of a relief after all this tension build-up of the past weeks. Frainn laughed as she watched Bucky try to dodge the blows thrown in the air by Sarah’s kids as he held the cake, they brought with them.

He took off his sunglasses and put the cake on a table he came across when Sam came to meet them. He gave a friendly hug to each of them before going back to taking pictures with his fellow neighbours. Frainn and Sarah chatted, amused by Bucky effortlessly lifting up kids with his metal arm while talking, standing one foot on the table and another on the bench along it in some heroic pose. As the day passed, the energy didn’t seem to tarnish and was just as lively and dashing as when Bucky and Frainn got there but now, they were watching the sun set over the ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see, in Sam’s company and Frainn’s smile couldn’t fade and she wondered what it was about this place but she figured that it was just this way, and it felt really nice. She shot a smile at Bucky and Sam as they went to see some people back at the party.

Frainn couldn’t take her eyes off the pretty colors of the sunset and looked up to the sky. She closed her eyes, breathing in softly and deeply, as she wished she had Heimdall’s vision, just to see the colors of the universe again, and to see how Thor was doing right now. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Bucky had returned. She glanced to her side when she felt movement nearby and when she turned around, she found him, one knee to the ground.

“Why are you kneeling?” She asked, chuckling as she was genuinely confused and not understanding what he was doing, even when he held up a little box in his hand. Bucky was apparently having a lot of fun in this. It was when she saw the ring that it started hitting her, but she didn’t realize until he spoke.

“Will you marry me, darling?” His soft blue eyes twinkled as they looked up at her face, now very much surprised and speechless.

“Y-yes.” The moment this small and seemingly unsignificant word crossed her lips, everyone on the docks starting cheering, cheered, applauding them as Bucky stook back up and slipped the ring on her left hand. It was only then that her attention focused a little more on the ring; a golden ring with a flower shaped assortments of fine old mine cut diamonds shining to her eyes.

“It was my mother’s. I had a hard time getting my hands on it.” He confessed and she looked up at him.

“It’s absolutely beautiful. I love you, Bucky.” She then went in for a passionate kiss, Bucky wrapping his arms around the love of his life and everyone around them, cheering louder and louder to the bride and groom to be. Frainn had never felt so happy then in the moments she spent with Bucky throughout her life, and she never actually expected this to happen, but she welcomed it with an open heart and a huge smile. He made her full and she was over the moon, and he made it clear to her that he felt the same way. Now, next time she would see Thor, she would have some good news to bring to him, and not just apologies.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (??/??)

Published (07/27/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

#marvel #Marvel Studios #marvel oc #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #MCU #mcu fanfic #MCU loki #mcu fanfiction #mcu phase 4 #mcu phase 4 spoilers #fanfiction #fatws #fatws series #fatws spoilers #fatws fanfic #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #falcon and the winter soldier rewrite #falcon & the winter soldier rewrite #marvel spoilers #marvel rewrite #oc #original character #mcu oc #marvel oc loki's daughter #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes #winter soldier

[delicatebarness]

FATWS!Bucky x Agent!Reader - After been told by Bucky not to flirt with John Walker to receive the shield, she waits until he’s not around to tell her no.

i cant read your mind | prologue

Y/N: You know, I worked under Steve.

Walker: Oh yeah?

Y/N: Oh yeah, we got real close.

Walker: Is that right?

Y/N: Mhmmm *runs hand over the suit* I always loved the Stars and Stripes.

Walker: 😏😏😏

* Bucky and Sam walk out of the police station, Bucky fills with rage and jealousy when he sees you all over Walker and marches over, pulling you away by your arm *

Bucky: I said no.

Y/N: *mumbles under breath* I’ll get that shield.

#I can’t read your mind notes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #fatws!bucky x agent!reader #fatws bucky #fatws #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[duckybarnes1917]

Forbidden Fruit (DBF! Bucky x F!Reader)

18+ ONLY.

Summary: Bucky knows he shouldn't want this, but he can't resist taking a bite.

Warnings: plot what plot? smut, age gap (undefined), unprotected sex, daddy kink, Bucky's dirty mouth. The only physical description is the reader having a small tattoo, if you don't have one, pretend it's fake.

Word count: 4900

A/N: NO ONE LOOK AT ME. I am that Paul Rudd meme. Who woulda thought?

Guilt. That’s what Bucky felt every time he looked at you. His neighbor’s daughter that he had only found out about two weeks ago. Everything had been going so well. His new house in the suburbs was shaping up nicely, thanks to Sam and Clint’s help. He had made the move to help himself find some inner peace. It was working; he slept better; he ate better, he even got a cat and started doing yoga every morning. He made friends with his neighbors. Ms. Rose was an elderly (though still technically younger than him) widow who lived across the street. She brought him muffins every Sunday morning. Mark and Angela lived to the left of him. They were newlyweds and spent most of their evenings in the backyard getting high and laughing at everything the other said. Bucky thought they were sweet. And to his right, that’s where your dad lived. A single man who appeared to be about the same age as Bucky. He did something in finance and had to take a train to the city every day. He was nice enough and since they were both alone in their big houses, they became friends. Shared beers and sports games, Bucky would come over to meet his work friends now and then. But all of this, all of Bucky’s hard work, washed down the drain the second he saw you running down his sidewalk.

He had just finished his morning yoga and was about to sit down for a nice muffin and some coffee when he heard a scream. He dashed to his front window and saw a big black dog charging down the sidewalk, it’s leash flopping along behind it. And then there was you, sweaty and bleeding, and chasing this beast like your life depended on it.

Bucky opened the door and called to the dog in German. It immediately stopped and dropped its head, slowly walking up Bucky’s driveway to sit at his feet.

“How—how did you do that?!” You huffed, your hand holding your side.

“This is Bert, he belongs to Greta a few houses down… he only understands German.”

You sent an annoyed glare toward Greta’s house. “Well, that would have been nice to know before I took him on a walk.”

Bucky chuckled, “dog sitter?”

“Not really. I’m just helping her out for a few weeks while I’m in town.”

Bucky deflated a bit. You were temporary. But even so, you were standing in his driveway with a nasty cut on your knee.

“I can fix that–if you want.”

You looked down as if you hadn’t realized you were bleeding and quickly nodded. “Please.”

“I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

When you introduced yourself as you walked past him into the house, your name tickled something in his brain. He wanted you.

“The bathroom is right around the corner.”

Bucky followed, keeping his distance, as not to breathe down your neck. And also to check you out. It had been a while–he had needs. That’s what he told himself as he struggled to tear his eyes away from the backs of your thighs.

You walked into the small bathroom and turned to him. The sudden hesitancy on your face made him take a step back.

“You can just show me where your first aid kit is…”

Bucky nodded and stepped into the bathroom with you; you stumbled back a bit when he knelt in front of the cabinet. “Here you go. Are you sure you don’t need a helping hand?”

Bucky remained on his knees, offering the first aid kit to you. But you didn’t take it. You stared into his impossibly blue eyes and squeaked out an intelligible answer.

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t quite catch that.” Bucky stood up to his full height and enjoyed the way your head tilted back to maintain eye contact with him.

“Help. Please.”

Bucky smiled and patted the counter. You understood and jumped up onto it.

“Let’s see here…” Bucky cradled your calf as he lifted your leg. He rested your foot on his thigh as he got to work on your bloodied knee.

It was just a scrape, but he took his time, enjoying the way the bend of your knee offered him a lovely view. He was so lost in looking at your legs in your short shorts he didn’t notice the way your demeanor had changed.

The look of desperation in his eyes bolstered your confidence. Yes, you had been nervous. He was hot, incredibly hot. And intense. His presence had overwhelmed you, made you so desperate for him you couldn’t think straight. But now–as you watched him unabashedly stare at the bit of white lace you knew he could see up your shorts–you knew you could take him.

As he reluctantly moved on to the scrape on your elbow, you admired his weathered face. He was talking about something, but you weren’t paying attention. You noticed the cute crinkles around his eyes when he laughed, though. The salt and pepper beard, the smoothness of his pink lips, and he smelled good too. Like sandalwood and something spicy. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed the bob of his adam’s apple as he spoke, the little freckles on his neck that you wanted to bite, and lower, the muscles under his shirt… and it was only then that you noticed his arm.

“Holy shit… you’re… you’re Bucky, Bucky?!” 

Bucky straightened up, looking a little worried. “Is that a problem?”

“No! I just can’t believe I didn’t recognize you until now. Fuck, you’re even hotter in person.”

Bucky’s smirk made your cheeks blaze. You hadn’t intended for that thought to come out of your mouth. But he was moving to stand between your legs, his lips inching nearer, so you weren’t about to beat yourself up over it.

“So you’re saying you weren’t driving me crazy because you knew who I was? Just because you think I’m hot?”

“Driving you crazy?” You whispered, trying your best to remain still while his nose grazed over your cheek on its path to your ear.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing to me, sweetheart.” His voice was gravel in your ear, a chill shooting down your spine. “Besides, I can smell you.”

“Fuck me,” you breathed out and his lips instantly attached to your pulse point.

“With pleasure, kitten.”

“That was–” you were trying to explain to him you hadn’t meant it literally, but his tongue was very distracting, as were his hands, which were sliding up your little shorts to grasp your ass. “Oh god, I don’t even know you.” Your hands tangled in his hair and you brought his lips to yours.

Just as a pathetic moan was leaving your throat, your ringtone blared through the bathroom, making you both jump.

“Sorry, sorry, just let me turn it off.” You scrambled for your phone, accidentally dropping it on the floor.

“Got it, sweetheart.” Bucky bent down to pick up your phone and froze when he saw the picture on the screen.

It was a photo of you and his friend, his neighbor… and the name on the phone said ‘dad.’

“This–he’s your–fuck.” Bucky handed you the phone and stalked out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over Bert, who had fallen asleep outside the door.

“Wait! I’m not answering it. Where are you going?!”

You scrambled after Bucky, trying to keep up with his long strides and not get distracted by the way his ass looked in his gray joggers.

“You gotta go,” Bucky said emotionlessly as he opened the front door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Fuck, how old are you?”

Your brows furrowed, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. “Old enough to fuck a stranger in their bathroom. What the fuck, Bucky?”

“I’m friends with your dad, okay? We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

You stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, before shrugging and walking past him. “Your loss, Buck. Come on, Bert, let’s go. I have some energy to work off now.”

As you and Bert walked down the sidewalk toward the park, you felt Bucky’s eyes glued to you the entire way.

The guilt only lasted so long. The universe forbid you from him. Made you off limits. So fucking young. He should have never touched you. Not because it was wrong, but because now the feel of you had burned into his memory. It came to him every goddamn night when he tried to sleep. And every goddamn morning when he inevitably woke up hard from his increasingly filthy dreams.

Avoiding you proved to be impossible. As hard as Bucky tried, you were always just there. He tried to relax in his backyard and there you were, swimming lazily in your dad’s pool. When he tried to go to the park, you were laying in the sun or running laps. The day he was across the street, helping Ms. Rose in her garden, was when he realized you were fucking with him.

He was minding his own business, having a lovely conversation with his elderly neighbor, when suddenly you appeared in your dad’s driveway. A little white bikini top and cutoff denim shorts were the only thing you wore. Bucky swallowed hard. The beads of sweat running down his neck were no longer just from the scorching sun. He thought maybe you were going to lie out. But no, it was worse. So much worse. You walked to the side of the house and bent over as you turned on the water house.

“No,” Bucky whispered to himself, his eyes wide as he watched you spray the hood of your little sports car.

Ms. Rose was oblivious, talking even though Bucky was clearly not paying attention anymore. His eyes watched every move you made. He swore he was dreaming. There was no way you just squeezed your sponge over yourself, but you must have, because Bucky was watching the soapy water seep through your now sheer top, and trail down your legs. When you bent over on your tiptoes to cleanse the back window of your car, he knew he hadn’t imagined the flirty looks you had been giving him throughout the week. You still wanted him. And goddamn, he wanted you more than anything. Just as his cock was urging him to get up and go do something about the way you were displaying yourself for him, your dad pulled up in the driveway.

“Fucking shit,” Bucky muttered, spinning away from you and focusing on the garden he was supposed to be attending to.

What worried him now was the complete absence of guilt he felt. He should be ashamed. Horrified at his behavior and thoughts. But the more he tried to tell himself that you were forbidden fruit, the more he wanted to take a damn bite.

**

He stayed confined to his house for the next two days. Curtains shut to avoid the temptation of peeking into your backyard. Your dad–his friend, kept texting, asking him to hangout and Bucky felt horrible ignoring the messages. But he couldn’t do it, not until you were gone. He thought about going to visit Sam and Clint in the city for the next week, just until you went back to wherever you had come from. But that would be too pathetic. He just needed a distraction, something to help him stop thinking about your ass in those little shorts, the water dripping between your breasts…

Bucky’s ringtone brought him back to the present, and he yanked his hand out of his shorts, cursing himself for losing control yet again. It was your dad. He sighed, pulling his large hand down his face as he answered the phone, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Buck! I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

“Yeah, sorry, been busy.”

“Are you coming tonight?”

Bucky was silent, trying to remember what he could be referencing.

“The game is tonight; my daughter went out with some friends, so I invited the usual gang over. Thought you’d bring that beer we all like.”

Bucky’s heart sank a little at the news that you wouldn’t be there, but maybe that was a good thing. “Sure, sure, I’ll come over soon.”

Bucky hung up the phone and looked down at his lap… first a cold shower, then the party.

**

The night air was crisp, and cool as you wandered through your large backyard. You were still a little tipsy from the night out with your friends, but your vision was clear enough to spot Bucky leaning against the fence talking to some of your dad’s friends. He was a vision in his French blue t-shirt and pants; his beard was scruffy with spots of gray, his hair fluffy and just untamed enough to make you imagine your fingers in it. When he laughed, his nose scrunched, and his head tossed back just a little. Was he a god? Apollo himself, here to bring you the sun? You didn’t even realize your feet were carrying you in his direction until he caught your eye. The look of panic on his face made you stop where you were, a few feet away. He mumbled excuses and avoided your eye as he made a quick exit, heading for the gate on the side of the house.

Determined to get what you knew you both wanted, you took a deep breath for courage and chased after him, glad everyone appeared too drunk to pay attention to you.

Once in the dark shadows and hidden on the side of the house, you called his name. He froze, his hand on the gate, likely debating if he would run or answer your call.

“You’re being very rude, you know.”

He still didn’t move.

“Can I at least thank you for your help the other day?”

His shoulders tensed. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well, I am.”

Bucky turned around then, inhaling sharply as his eyes roved over you. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Oh, but I have so many ways I could say thank you.”

He took a step closer, and you pressed your back against the brick of the house. Heat prickled over your skin as he advanced on you, nearly touching you now.

“Don’t you wanna hear your options?” You whispered, eyes flicking between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes.

“We can’t,” Bucky swallowed.

“But I’ll be real good for you, I promise. Let you do whatever you want.”

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, inching even closer, his thigh slotting between your legs.

“Touch me,” you whispered, afraid you’d scare him away.

His fingers trailed up your thigh so lightly you barely felt them. Bucky stopped at the hem of your dress and you were about to complain when he pressed his hips against you, his prominent erection digging into your hip.

“Oh god, I wanna suck your cock so bad, daddy. Please, please let me.”

Bucky closed his eyes, just barely rutting against you. The veins in his neck were strained as he tried to remain in control.

“God dammit, we can’t. It’s wrong.”

“You keep saying that.” Your hands skimmed up his broad chest and over his shoulders. “I think it turns you on.”

Bucky shook his head, and you pulled him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “I think your cock gets hard every time you think about how you’re not supposed to fuck me.”

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Bucky breathed against your neck, his fingers digging into your thighs. “You’re all I think about. I want to ruin you, claim every piece of you with my fingers, and my tongue, god I wanna taste you so bad.”

“Please, daddy.”

His cock throbbed against you. “Stop, you gotta stop calling me that, kitten.” Bucky pushed away from you, still caging you in against the brick. “I’m serious. We can’t do this. I’m trying to be a decent guy here.”

You weren’t listening, and Bucky’s eyes trailed down your body to where your hand had slipped under your dress. Before he could say anything, you held two glistening fingers in his face, taunting.

“Just a taste.” You gently swiped your fingers over his plush bottom lip and his eyes went so dark you were almost afraid.

And then he was gone; disappearing so quickly that he was a blur in the night.

**

Bucky couldn’t breathe. He literally held his breath for as long as he could to avoid inhaling your sweet scent. He nearly broke his backdoor down trying to hurry and get inside.

“Fuck!” He shouted as finally got the door to open and he stumbled inside, drunk with lust.

His cock was so hard, he was already unbuttoning his pants and yanking the zipper down as he hurried through his kitchen. He just had to make it upstairs, but the temptation on his lips was too much, his clothes were suffocating, he need to fucking come. He braced himself on the wall by the stairs, his right hand quickly pulling his heavy cock out and pumping it with speed and efficiency. He was already so close; it was not a time for teasing. He got off on the smell of you on his lips, the feel of you pressed against him earlier that night, the dirty things you had promised–god he was an idiot, he could have you on your knees right now. He could hardly remember the last time he had a hot little mouth wrapped around him.

He cursed under his breath, fumbling for a tissue as his balls tightened and he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, coming hard as the taste of you exploded in his mouth.

**

Bucky had reached his limit. He was done. Today was the day he was going to ruin you. He decided this as he watched you over his fence. You were lounging by your pool, completely nude, and posed to tease the fuck out of him. One leg was bent at the knee, blocking his view of your cunt. His eyes trailed up the length of your body, only to be disappointed that your book was blocking his view of your tits. But he zeroed in on the bit of side boob he could see, licking his lips as he imagined kissing the little heart tattoo he didn’t know you had there.

He cleared his throat, and you lifted your gaze to smile at him.

“Oh hello, looking for my dad?”

Bucky’s gaze darkened. “Over here. Now.”

You froze, and Bucky wondered if you really thought he could resist you forever.

“Now, kitten.”

You nodded, turning to grab your sundress before quickly making your way to his side of the fence.

“You didn’t need to bother with the dress.” Bucky grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

His tongue invaded your mouth aggressively, making up for lost time. You gasped when he nipped at your bottom lip, his frustrations spilling out. He pulled back enough to look you in the eye, both of your breaths ragged.

You opened your mouth, probably to say something cocky. But Bucky silenced you by pushing softly but firmly on your shoulders. You dropped to your knees so fast that Bucky chuckled.

“Eager?”

You already had his fly open, your tongue pressed against the wet spot his cock had made in his underwear, and he shuddered.

“And you aren’t?”

“No teasing.”

You answered by pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It was thick and curved, his pink tip begging to be sucked.

“Holy–fuck,” Bucky dragged out the last word, reaching for the fence for support as you took him into your throat.

It had been so long since he had experienced this. While he longed for your pussy, this was different… looking down at you on your knees for him–lips wrapped tight and your tongue moving so perfectly–he wouldn’t last.

He should have taken you inside. Now he had to be quiet, had to contain the moans and gasps he wanted to let out every time you took him deeper.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky groaned as your nose pressed against his pelvis. “Wanna fuck your face, sweetheart.”

You moaned, and his dick throbbed in tune with his rapid heartbeat. But as he wrapped his vibranium hand in your hair, prepping himself to come down your throat, your backdoor opened and shut loudly.

“Shit,” Bucky cursed as your dad stepped out onto the patio and waved at him. He nudged your shoulder, and you pulled back, keeping his tip in your mouth.

Bucky gave you a warning look as your dad approached the fence.

He should have known better. As soon as he started talking to your dad, trying to get rid of him, your hot mouth slid down his cock again, slowly, but it still made him stutter. You froze once your nose was pressed against him again, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, until you swallowed and he nearly groaned out loud. Somehow your dad was still clueless, rambling on about-well, Bucky didn’t know what he was talking about anymore. He bit his lip hard as your tongue lapped at his balls, the tip of his cock still in your throat. A curse slipped through his lips. He was sure he looked like he was in pain–he was about to come and you wouldn’t stop–he didn’t want you to stop.

Your dad frowned. “You, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky choked out, annoyed now that you had completely pulled back, licking his tip teasingly. “Just playing with my kitten. She’s being a bad girl.”

Bucky smirked as you clenched your thighs together.

“But I think she just needs attention. I’ll see you later.”

With that, your dad finally left and as soon as he was safely inside your house, Bucky tucked himself back into his pants and squatted down to look you in the eye.

“What happened to being a good girl for daddy, huh?”

“Couldn’t help it.”

Bucky kissed you fiercely, before bringing you to your feet. “Inside.”

You didn’t hesitate, running to his backdoor as he slowly stalked behind you.

**

Bucky’s tongue held power. You were sure of it. It tortured, teased, and pleased all in one firm, wet swipe. And he did it for what seemed like hours. Not letting you go until you begged for a break. When he finally lifted his head from between your trembling thighs, you groaned at the sight. His handsome beard glistened with your arousal, and his blue eyes were dark with need. Your legs spread further for him and he smirked as he climbed over your body to reach your lips.

“Good girl; gonna take my cock, kitten?”

“Yes daddy, give it to me,” you nearly whined as you felt him press the tip against your entrance.

He was quiet as he slid in, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. You gripped them tight as he split you open slowly, every throbbing vein rubbing you in just the right way.

“Oh god, you’re so big,” you whimpered once he was fully inside you.

His breath was ragged against your neck, and even your feet pressing into his firm ass wasn’t enough to get him to move yet.

“Please,” you begged, and finally he pulled out. Bucky fucked slow but deep, making sure you felt everything he gave you. Every drag was heaven, every thrust euphoria. His vibranium hand was cradling the back of your head, tangled in your hair, his other gripping your hip to keep you in place. You climbed quickly, but you needed more.

“Faster, please, I can take it.”

Bucky’s head dropped against yours for a second before he obliged. He moved his hand from your hair to the headboard, slowly building up the speed of his thrusts.

You could feel his control slipping, his thrusts felt more frantic, the muscles in his arms bulged, and his breaths grew even more ragged.

Yet you still needed more.

“Talk to me,” you finally whispered, almost embarrassed to ask.

Bucky froze, and you feared maybe you had ruined the moment. But then he gave you that ridiculously hot, lopsided smirk and pressed his lips to your ear.

“You want me to tell you how good you feel?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he resumed his pace.

“Want to hear how badly I wanna ignore your pleasure and fuck you hard and fast?”

“Yes!” You groaned, lifting your hips to urge him to move faster.

 “Want me to tell you how I have to masturbate every fucking day thinking about your lips, your cunt, your ass?”

“You touch yourself, wishing your cock was up my ass?”

“Fuck yes.” Bucky sounded truly broken, and you lifted his head to see the desire in his eyes.

“Next time,” you managed to speak before his pace turned even more punishing.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me. Tell me what else you like, sweetheart. Wanna feel you come.”

“Suck my tits, daddy, I’m so close.”

“With pleasure,” Bucky immediately moved his lips to the little tattoo on the side of your breast. Swiping his tongue over it a few times while his big hands squeezed your tits. His pace slowed slightly as he lost himself in worshiping your breasts. His tongue teased until you were nearly frantic with desire. With one last slow lick over your nipple, his warm mouth wrapped around it. Your back arched, and you came almost instantly, drawing a deep groan from him as he continued to suck hungrily.

You knew he had to be close. He was putting off his own release to draw more and more from you.

“Wanna ride you, daddy.”

He didn’t argue, flipping the two of you over so you were on top of him, your hands planted on his muscular chest.

You didn’t think he could get any better, but this angle made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Yeah, there would definitely be a next time, and a time after that. As many times as he’d allow.

His fingers gripped your hips hard, and you fluttered around him at the thought of the bruises he would leave behind.

“I’m close,” Bucky said, almost reluctantly. “Gotta stop.”

“Can’t,” you said breathlessly, moving your hips faster.

He groaned, arguing with you even as his hand moved from your hip to your breast and his hips jerked off the bed.

“Come inside me, daddy, need it.”

“Jesus fuck,” Bucky’s head dipped back. “You can’t–can’t say shit like that.”

“Why?” You questioned, leaning down to his ear. “Because you’re not supposed to be fucking me? Because you’re not supposed to want to fuck me?”

“Stop,” Bucky groaned, thrusting faster.

“Because you’re not supposed to have your fat cock balls deep in my little pussy?”

A strangled noise left Bucky’s throat, and he threw you onto your back. You were disappointed, expecting him to finish himself over your stomach, but before you could even pout his was back inside you. If you thought he was needy before, this was frantic. He hugged your body tight to his, his feet scrambled against the sheets, looking for purchase so he could fuck you deeper. 

He couldn’t string together a sentence anymore, but you no longer needed him to tell you how good he felt. You could feel it with each throb of his cock deep inside you.

“Can’t stop–” he gasped, and you grabbed his ass, pushing him deeper.

A hungry, desperate sound left his mouth, and you knew you had him.

“Give it to me,” you whispered in his ear. “Fuck my little pussy, daddy, it’s yours.”

Bucky’s hand gripped your ass hard as he shoved his cock as deep as it would go. His teeth bit your neck as he came. You yelped at the pain, but tangled your hand in his hair to keep him there.

His thrusts became more frantic at first as he fucked himself through his orgasm, but eventually he slowed, the static in his brain clearing just enough to speak again. You were both keenly aware that he’s still coming, fucking you slowly as he does.

“Fuck, such a good girl, taking it so well.”

All you could was whimper, entirely spent.

“Shh, it’s okay. You did so well for me.” Bucky kissed you gently, distracting you from the loss of his cock.

“Should have done it sooner,” you mumbled, and Bucky nipped your bottom lip.

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise.”

You were about to give a sarcastic answer when he deliberately pressed himself against your hip and your eyes went wide.

Bucky nodded, a cocky smile on his lips.

You lifted your head, looking down to confirm with your own eyes before flopping down onto the bed. “God, you’re a fucking wet dream.”

“You’re one to talk, kitten. Now let me take care of you so you can be good and ready for that round two you promised.”

Bucky squeezed your ass before leaving the bed, leading you to the shower.

His guilt was no longer present, completely replaced by fiery lust.

#bucky barnes smut #dbf!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky x reader #mcu smut #fatws #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan smut #dilf bucky

[lokiswifeduh]

can’t help but drown

pairings: Bucky x fem!reader

summary: the past few months you think you have a handle on your anxiety. but after a silent panic attack in the bathtub, Bucky is there to pull you out.

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, feeling helpless, feelings of suffocation, ANGST!!!

The water moved in soft ruffles around you. Not quite making waves, however, moving from how your anxious legs swayed the water.

Shallow breaths and water hitting the porcelain tub softly were all you could hear. Your body was too overheated, your mind was racing and you could feel your heartbeat in your hands.

You didn't know where this sudden burst of anxiety and panic had risen from. Just that you couldn't get out of the water. Something was keeping you down. Making your body drown.

"Doll?" A sudden tap on the door knocked you out of your trance. You swallowed, your throat feeling like sandpaper against your tongue. "Y-yeah?" Your voice cracked, and you silently cursed knowing Bucky would notice. That super soldier hearing never lets you live anything down.

"You've been in there for a while." You heard him lean against the door, "Is everything alright?" You nodded, remembering as much as Bucky could hear you better than most, he definitely can't see through walls.

"Y-yes. I'm alright, just...uh." You tried to think. Any excuse would work. Bucky might not believe you but he would let the topic go. "Just needed some extra alone time tonight."

"Oh," Bucky mumbled through the door. "Okay, doll." You could feel the hurt in his voice. You didn't need alone time from him. You didn't need to be alone at all right now but he couldn't see you like this.

A sweaty, anxious, mess.

You didn't know how much time had passed. Your nails attempt to dig into the porcelain of the tub, but to no avail, you're only yourself in the process. "Sweetheart?" Bucky taps on the door once more, "Please talk to me." You try to speak, but only a mumble comes out. The bubbles in the bath are gone. Only leaving a white film on top of the now room-temperature water.

"Doll, I'm coming in." You attempt to refuse but nothing comes out as Bucky breaks the lock on the door, softly opening it. You can't look at him. You won't.

You keep your head forward, staring into the wall as you feel Bucky kneel beside you.

He can see how hard your nails are clutching onto the side of the tub, softly lifting your hand as you ball your fist. Your nails now digging into the skin of your palm; drawing blood.

"Hey, hey." Bucky unclenches your fist, letting your nails hurt his metal hand instead.

Using his flesh hand, he softly places a palm on your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. "Doll, what's going on? Talk to me." You shake your head, eyes falling closed as more tears adorn your already-flushed cheeks.

"Okay, that's okay." Bucky whispers, "But I need to get you out of this tub sweetheart." He doesn't need to feel the water to know you've been in the bath for far too long.

"Can I get you out, doll?" You slowly nod, your chin shaking with the sobs you so badly don't want to release.

Bucky mumbles an alright. Moving one of his arms under your legs, the other holding your back as you clutch onto his shirt.

He lifts you up, the water rolling off of your body and soaking his once-dry clothes. "I'm so sorry." You mumble, repeating it over and over as your body starts to shiver from the temperature difference. "Shhh, you're okay, sweetheart."

Bucky wraps a towel around the exposed side of your body, attempting to keep you warm as he brings you into your shared bedroom. "I'm gonna lay you down, doll."

You shake your head violently, clutching onto his henley even harder. "Please, please don't leave me."

Bucky sits down with you still in his arms on the bed, your legs now lying over his as he holds you. "I won't. I promise, sweetheart I'm not leaving."

You both sit there for a moment, tears falling from your eyes, him rocking you back and forth as an old record played from the living room.

You start to feel a weight lift off your chest, your heartbeat calming slightly at the touch of Bucky's arms on yours. You start to speak, wanting to explain yourself when Bucky shushes you. "You don't have to explain sweetheart." He kisses the crown of your head, your hair still wet. "You can talk when you're ready." You nod, continuously wondering how you found someone so caring and endearing. "I just..." You looked up at Bucky, his blue eyes shining down at you with such love. "I felt like I was drowning." He nods, "Sometimes we can't help but drown, doll."

Kissing your forehead once again, he squeezes your body tighter to his. "But I'll be there every time to pull you from the water.

#bucky angst #buckybarnes #marvel #fanfic #avengers #fluff #bucky barnes x reader #fem!reader #buckyxfem!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes panic attack #marvel oneshot #oneshot #angst with a happy ending #angst

[klecrone]

Last week, days after getting my flu and Covid boosters, I managed to catch Covid for the first time, and ended up spending my first hours... painting some Barnes and Alpine Angst/Comfort art, as one does. I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out for a two-sitting painting, all things considered! In my head, I was channeling Barnes from Winter of the White Wolf, but not any particular existing scene. Just a general flashback to those rough post-Hydra years. Have no fear! I'm still working on writing and editing the next chapter of the story, and hope to have it out once my fever breaks and I'm feeling better.

Unrelated, hannahshattuck was inspired by my painting and wrote a drabble based on how she imagines the scene might've played out if Steve were around, which you can read here: You Pull Me Out of the Gray. She wove such a wonderful and heartfelt scene here, and you should totally check it out!

#Bucky Barnes #Fan Art #Marvel #MCU #Marvel Fan Art #TFATWS #FATWS #Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky #Alpine #Winter Soldier #Ao3 #Barnes #Ao3 Fanart #Ao3 Fanfic #White Wolf #The Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes Fanart #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Winter of the White Wolf #WotWW #MyArt*

[emjayewrites]

Pastry Passions (Luca x black!femoc) (1/?)

PAIRING: Luca x Symone (black!original character)

SUMMARY: When Symone secures a coveted position as the social media manager at Noma, the renowned Michelin-starred restaurant, she is thrilled to be part of a team that pushes boundaries and captures gastronomic excellence. As Symone immerses herself in the vibrant atmosphere of Noma, she catches the eye of Luca, a talented and career-focused pastry chef within the same establishment. Luca is captivated by her presence, however, with his desire to maintain a clear boundary between work and personal life, he resists the growing attraction he feels towards her. Despite their shared passion for the culinary world, Symone and Luca find themselves entangled in a delicate dance between friendship, ambition, and unspoken desires. As the duo collaborates on various projects, from showcasing exquisite pastries to capturing behind-the-scenes glimpses of the culinary artistry, they face numerous challenges that test their resolve. Amidst the intense pressures of Noma's demanding environment and the weight of their individual aspirations, Symone and Luca must navigate their relationship in a career-driven world, where the line between personal and professional blurs, and decisions made can shape not only one's heart but also their future in the industry.  

WARNINGS: slow burn romance, drama, angst, grueling work conditions/not-so-glamorous life of the culinary world, cursing, slight age gap, sexual content. RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @cinewhore @stargirlfics @mauvecherie-writes @kdoxkeic @wakandamama @afro-hispwriter @nolita-fairytale @lovebittenbyevans​ @blowmymbackout​​ @superhoeva​ @celestianstars

AUTHOR’S NOTE: So this is my first fic for FX’s The Bear. This contains spoilers from Season 2, so please don’t read if you haven’t watched. In “Honeydew”, Luca mentions that he’s been working as a pastry chef/chef for 14 years, so he has to be in his early/mid-30s (32-34-ish?) and there will be a small age gap between him and Symone. Also, Chapters 1-3 is set a month and a half before Marcus’ stage trip in January. Please send me a DM if you want to be added to the taglist. Enjoy reading! ;)

CHAPTER I: Emulsion

EMULSION: The process of combining two ingredients that are normally unmixable. 

It’s not every day you have a beautiful woman squatting in between your legs while you emulsify a cream sauce, yet somehow this was Luca’s life. 

Luca found himself in an unusual position, both literally and figuratively, as he stood in Noma’s kitchen. Symone was squatting in front of him, holding her Canon EOS M50 Mark II′s lens close as possible to the glass to capture every moment. 

As Luca vigorously whisked ingredients in a clear bowl, he couldn't help but wonder about the unconventional setup. Symone had suggested this idea to capture an intriguing perspective for the pastry team’s social media campaign. While he didn't fully comprehend the concept of having her squat beneath a glass table while he worked, he understood the need to push boundaries and capture the attention of their audience.

The cream sauce emulsified under his skilled hand, the rhythmic motion of the whisk punctuating the air. Symone's focused gaze met his, her enthusiasm for the project evident in her eyes. Luca couldn't deny the chemistry that crackled between them, even in this peculiar situation.

He suppressed a smirk, realizing the lengths he was willing to go to support the campaign. Whatever it took to create captivating content and elevate Noma's online presence, he was prepared to play his part. If that meant having Symone in such close proximity, he would oblige, regardless of the strange dynamics it introduced.

“You better smirk,” she coaxed beneath him, earning her a lopsided grin that tugged at the corners of Luca’s mouth. “Yes...just like that.” 

Luca’s mind swirled with lewd thoughts as Symone's words, dripping with praise and seductive vibrato, ignited a fire within him that he struggled to contain. The unspoken tension between them permeated the kitchen, electrifying the air with an intoxicating energy. A shiver ran down his spine at her tonality; it held so much sexual undertone and he wondered if she was like this all the time, especially in the bedroom. He couldn't help but envision Symone as a dominant force, dishing out instructions with confidence and prowess. The image of her taking charge, unapologetically owning her desires, entranced him. 

The tantalizing notion of discovering if her dominant nature extended beyond the professional realm enticed him, igniting a curiosity that consumed his thoughts.

Symone's unwavering confidence and refusal to tolerate anyone's nonsense were qualities that both intimidated and intrigued Luca. Crazy as it seemed, Luca found himself drawn to the idea of unraveling the enigma that was Symone. He yearned to discover if the sexual undertones he sensed were more than mere imagination. 

He abruptly cleared his throat, snapping out of his reverie and consciously ordering his dick to cease its stirring inside the secure restraints of his black jeans. As the whisking came to a halt and the sauce achieved the desired consistency, Luca slowed his pace and his eyes briefly connected with Symone’s. 

"Nice," she said as she gracefully emerged from beneath the table, her movements deliberate and poised. “Good job.”

Fuck me sideways; her voice!

He liked it a bit too much for his liking, so much so that he wouldn’t — no, stop, don’t you dare go there. Not now, not ever. 

He somehow willed himself to regain control, to push aside the fantasies that threatened to consume him. Luca forced himself to redirect his thoughts, to recommit to the boundaries he had set for himself. 

With a nod of his head, Luca set the whisk aside, his gaze meeting Symone's once again. A comforting silence settled between them, the air thick with unspoken desires and lingering tension. As Luca meticulously cleaned his workstation, his eyes couldn't help but steal subtle glances at Symone, catching glimpses of her through his peripheral vision, as she watched the footage. 

“It looks good, Luca,” she says from over her shoulder. “People are gonna become feral for that lil’ smirk of yours.” 

A faint blush tinged Luca's cheeks as he absorbed her words, his ego momentarily stroked by her praise. 

"Thanks, Symone," he replied, his voice laced with a mix of appreciation and a hint of restraint. "I'm glad you like it."

"I'll put this together and send you a copy once I'm finished," Symone declared.

"Sounds good to me," Luca replied quickly, his hands instinctively reaching for the towel hanging from his apron to wipe off his hands. However, the aggravated look that crossed Symone's face caught his attention, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "Everything good?"

Symone's response was swift and direct, her arms crossing over her chest in a defensive stance. "I don't like your attitude," she proclaimed, her tone filled with frustration. "I mean, it's been two weeks since James told you about Japan and us working more closely together, but you've been an asshole more than usual."

Luca's eyes widened at her blunt honesty, and he took a moment to process her words. He had been aware of his change in demeanor, but he had hoped that he had managed to keep it under control. It seemed that Symone had seen through his facade, and the realization left him momentarily speechless. “Just trying to help as much as I can,” he says in a mock apologetic tone. 

“Bullshit,” she adds sotto voce, moving closer to him. “You were supposed to talk to me about doing this behind-the-scenes series and I have yet to hear from you.” 

“I’m busy, Symone,” he scoffs, rolling his blue eyes in annoyance as his anger heightened. “Besides, you can film me while I’m prepping and cooking. I don’t see why having another meeting for this series is necessary. I have a lot of shit to work on, Symone, and I don’t want to hear you complaining about some fuckin’ social media campaign.” 

Symone's exasperated growl caused goosebumps to rise on Luca’s arms. For the second time that day, he found himself captivated by this newly revealed side of Symone, the fierce determination and raw authenticity that radiated from her.

"Fuck you. Hopefully, your attitude is better tomorrow," Symone retorted.

Luca's regret washed over him like a wave. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize and offer an explanation, but before he could utter a single word, Symone stormed out of the kitchen with a fiery intensity, leaving Luca standing there, momentarily stunned. Luca felt a pang of remorse for his part in their exchange. He had let his guard down, allowing his emotions and fears to cloud his judgment. He knew he needed to make amends, to set things right with Symone.

With a sigh, Luca gathered his thoughts and made a mental note to address the situation first thing in the morning. He vowed to himself that he would approach Symone with a genuine apology and a willingness to bridge the divide that had formed between them. 

As he resumed his other work in the kitchen, Luca's mind remained fixed on Symone's departure. He couldn't deny the mix of emotions stirring within him — the regret for his words, the longing to find common ground, and the undeniable attraction that continued to pull him towards her. He was in a continuous battle within himself, constantly contradicting between being a professional and delving into his personal desires.

He had been harboring a crush on Symone for quite some time, however, he was acutely aware of the complications that could arise from mixing his personal desires with his professional life at Noma. He couldn't bear the thought of being an asshole to Symone, yet he feared that acknowledging his feelings would only complicate matters further. 

Lost in his thoughts, Luca's concentration faltered, leading to a momentary lapse in focus. The knife in his hand slipped, resulting in an unintentional cut on his finger. A sharp pain jolted through him, causing his team members to notice his distress.

"Chef, are you okay?" Maria, ever attentive and caring, approached him with concern etched on her face.

Grimacing, Luca grunted out a curt, "Yes, I'm fine," though the pain lingered and matched the turmoil in his heart.

Maria, not one to be easily fooled, sensed his inner struggle and gently urged him toward the employee lounge. "Come on, Chef, let's get that cut cleaned and bandaged properly."

Reluctantly, Luca followed Maria's lead, allowing her to guide him away from the kitchen. In the privacy of the lounge, Maria attended to his wound, her touch both gentle and firm. 

"Luca," Maria stated matter-of-factly, her voice tinged with concern, as she carefully tended to his wound. "You need to get your shit together." 

The truth of her statement resonated within him, leaving him pondering just how transparent his internal struggle had become. Undeniably aware of his infatuation with Symone, Luca couldn't help but wonder if others had also noticed the subtle shifts in his demeanor. Had his attempts to keep his feelings hidden fallen short? Did his actions betray the turmoil he experienced within?

Maria's straightforwardness served as a wake-up call, forcing him to confront the reality he had been evading, yet despite this, ever the stubborn mule, Luca immediately dismissed it. 

Luca let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of Maria's words bearing down on him. "I'd rather cut myself again," he muttered under his breath, a mixture of self-pity and defiance in his voice.

Maria shook her head in disappointment and shrugged, understanding the complexity of his emotions. After wrapping the bandage, she left the lounge, leaving Luca alone to his own devices. As he sank into the couch, exhaustion and frustration intertwined within him.

His heart heavy with indecision, Luca knew he needed to confront his feelings and find a way to navigate this treacherous terrain. 

With a deep breath, Luca closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of rest before he decided to do something foolish and jeopardize his entire career. The conflicting desires within him battled for dominance, leaving him weary and drained. 

His phone suddenly buzzed, spurring him out of his contemplation. With a sigh, he reached for it and saw the name "Carmen Berzatto" flashing on the screen. Carmen, a former colleague and friend, was calling him.

"Hey, mate," Luca answered, wearingly. "What's up?"

Carmen's voice emanated from the other end of the line. "Hey, Luca! How's everything going over there at Noma? Listen, I wanted to ask if it's cool if I send my pastry chef, Marcus, to stage with you guys in Copenhagen in January. It'll be a great opportunity for him to learn from your team."

Luca's brow furrowed, his mind still preoccupied with his own personal dilemma. He exhaled deeply before muttering, "Sure, Carm. That's fine."

Sensing Luca's somber tone, Carmen asked, "Hey, man, is everything okay? You sound a bit off."

Luca let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Just the usual shit, you know. Work and personal stuff."

Carmen's voice took on a mischievous tone. "Ah, I see. Well, you know what they say — sometimes all that tension disappears if you get laid."

Luca couldn't help but roll his eyes, despite the flicker of amusement that danced within him. "Maybe you should take your own advice, Carmy."

Both men erupted into laughter, a shared understanding passing between them. They were well aware of their intense and hyperfocused nature when it came to their careers. The accumulation of pent-up energy often found its release in the realm of physical intimacy. However, Luca couldn't help but reflect on the last conversation he had with Carmen, where he was grappling with the heartbreaking aftermath of his brother's suicide. It was clear that Carmen had been preoccupied with more important matters at the time, leaving little room for such indulgences. As for Luca, he reluctantly acknowledged that he had been foolishly neglecting his own needs and desires, all in the name of upholding a veil of professionalism. 

He needed to get a grip and figure this shit out.

            _______________________________________________

In the crispness of the wintry morning, Luca took a momentary break from his prepping and other kitchen duties. Leaning against the outside wall of the kitchen door, he found solace in the stillness of the early hours, his fingers tapping on his phone as he attempted to compose an apology email. The tendrils of smoke from his cigarette swirled gracefully in the air, intertwining with the cool breeze that brushed against his face. The soft rays of the morning sun cast a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the contemplative expression in his eyes. Time was slipping away, and the beginning rush of lunch service would commence in a few hours, but for now, Luca sought the tranquility of the moment.

For the entire night, Luca tossed and turned in his bed; he couldn't escape the relentless thoughts of Symone that consumed his every waking moment. In the depths of his slumber, his dreams became a vivid tapestry of possibilities, where he replayed scenarios of their encounter from apology to rejection, and even to the forbidden intimacy they shared in the confines of the kitchen.

How could he navigate this attraction to her while maintaining their professional relationship? He knew that an apology was necessary, a first step toward rectifying the tension between them, but he needed a plan to ensure that his feelings wouldn't interfere with their work.

Suddenly, his gaze lifted from his phone and fixed on a figure emerging from the direction of the farm. It was Symone, camera in hand and tote perched on her shoulder, bundled up in a parka and heeled boots. The sight of her stirred a mix of emotions within him. He watched as she noticed his presence and muttered a curse under her breath, quickly changing her course to avoid him by taking a detour to a side entrance.

"Really, Symone? You have to go out of your way to avoid me?" Luca's voice sliced through the wintry air, causing her footsteps to falter. She pivoted on her heels, facing him with guarded eyes.

"Are you still being a dick?" Symone shot back, her tone tinged with resistance and a flicker of amusement dancing in her gaze.

Luca chuckled, unable to resist the subtle humor in her words. Symone tried to ignore the way his laughter sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, mentally cursing his attractiveness, tall stature, deep accented voice, muscular build, and the tattoos adorning his forearms. It took every ounce of her willpower to resist the temptation of jumping his bones right then and there.

With a genuine tone, Luca looked directly into Symone's eyes and offered his heartfelt apology. "Symone, I'm truly sorry for my behavior. I understand that I've made things difficult for both of us, but I want to make amends."

Symone's expression softened slightly, and she nodded in acknowledgment. "Apology accepted," she replied cautiously, her voice holding a trace of relief. "But, I need your commitment. If we're going to work closely together on this campaign, I need you fully invested. I need your active participation in the behind-the-scenes series, and I need you to provide everything I need."

Luca's response was immediate, his determination shining through. "You have my word, Symone."

A glimmer of satisfaction appeared in Symone's eyes as she nodded in approval. "Good," she replied, her voice more relaxed now. "Glad you found some sense.”

"Thank goodness," Luca replied a mischievous glint in his eyes, causing Symone to burst into laughter. The tension between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by a lighthearted banter that felt refreshing and familiar. With a final pull from his cigarette, he stubbed it out against the concrete ground with the sole of his work boot, dispersing the smoke into the wintry air.

"I'll try my best not to be a dick," he continued, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "But no promises. It seems to be ingrained in my nature, you know, being a chef and all."

Symone raised an eyebrow, a mock look of astonishment appearing on her face. "Oh, how wonderful. Using your choice of career as a built-in personality trait. Not toxic at all."

Luca chuckled, nudging her shoulder gently. "Hey, I can't help it if the heat of the kitchen rubs off on me. But don't worry, I've got layers. More than just spices and sauces, you know? Did you eat breakfast yet?"

"Fucker," Symone playfully retorted. "Alright, Chef Layers, let's get inside before I turn into a human popsicle. And to answer your question, no, I haven't had breakfast yet."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Luca said, feigning concern. "I'll whip something up for you. Consider it my first step in the redemption process."

Symone smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Fine, but don't get too carried away. I know your idea of 'whipping something up' involves a dozen ingredients and three hours of preparation."

Luca grinned, his playful nature shining through. "You know me too well. But I'll keep it simple this time. Just for you."

Luca held the door open for Symone, his gaze momentarily fixated on her ass as she gracefully entered the warmth of the restaurant. He couldn't help but appreciate her curves and the silent reminder of the underlying desires that simmered between them. 

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to set this stuff down in my office.” 

"Sure thing," Luca replied, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "Take your time. I'll be right here."

Symone nodded appreciatively and made her way toward her office, located on the other side of the restaurant. As she disappeared from his sight, he released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Moments later, she returned, her eyes drawn to Luca as he stood by the kitchen counter, sharpening his knives.

"Hey," Symone greeted, leaning against the counter. "I’m ready for that breakfast.” 

Luca looked up, a smile playing on his lips as he laid his freshly sharpened knife down. His curiosity got the best of him and he couldn't resist learning more about Symone, about the little details that made her who she was. Leaning against the counter, he casually asked, "By the way, are you allergic to anything?"

Symone shook her head, a small smile forming. "No allergies here. I can eat pretty much anything."

"Good to know," Luca replied, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. He continued, "And what's your favorite breakfast meal?"

Without hesitation, Symone responded, "Chicken and waffles."

Luca nodded, taking in the information. "Chicken and waffles, huh? I can definitely whip up some waffles for you. As for the chicken, we might have to save that for another time, but I'll make sure the waffles are the best you've ever tasted."

Symone chuckled at his antics. "I'll hold you to that, Luca. Looking forward to it."

Luca skillfully mixed the batter for the blueberry bacon waffles and Symone stood by the counter, her gaze fixed on his every move. The aroma of sizzling bacon filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of blueberries.

Symone couldn't help but be drawn to Luca's culinary prowess, and a playful smile danced on her lips. "Impressive, Chef. I didn't know you had waffle skills up your sleeve."

Luca flashed a grin, pouring the batter onto the hot waffle iron. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet. Just wait until you taste them."

Curiosity getting the better of her, Symone leaned in closer. "So, what made you decide on blueberry bacon waffles?"

Luca chuckled, flipping the sizzling bacon strips with precision. "Well, I thought, why not combine the sweet and the savory? Plus, blueberries and bacon are a match made in breakfast heaven and they’re my favorite."

As the waffles cooked to golden perfection, they continued their light banter, learning more about each other in the process. Luca couldn't help but be intrigued by Symone's family dynamics.

"So, you have a brother?" Luca asked, his attention briefly shifting from the sizzling bacon to Symone.

"I do. His name is Ishmael, and he's a military chef stationed in Germany."

"That's impressive. Must be quite the experience, working as a chef in the military,” Luca added as he took the bacon off the griddle to chop them into tiny pieces.

"It is, but it also means he's fiercely protective of me. He's been pushing me to find a job in Berlin so he can keep an eye on me."

Luca chuckled, understanding the sentiment all too well. "Ah, the overprotective older sibling. I can relate. But I'm sure he just wants the best for you."

Symone nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "He does. I appreciate his concern, even if it can be a bit overwhelming at times."

As the aroma of the freshly cooked waffles filled the kitchen, Luca carefully arranged them on a plate, garnishing them with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and bacon.

He handed the plate to Symone, their fingers briefly brushing. The fleeting touch sent a shiver down Luca's spine, igniting a warmth that spread through his entire being. It was a simple gesture, but it held a world of unspoken possibilities.

Symone's eyes met Luca's, a subtle spark of something more lingering between them. At that moment, they both felt the undeniable connection growing stronger, a magnetic pull that neither of them could ignore.

"Thank you, Luca," Symone said softly with a hint of something deeper than gratitude.

Luca nodded, his gaze fixed on her, their eyes locked into each other. "You're welcome, Symone. It's my pleasure."

As Symone took her first bite, her eyes widened in delight. "Oh wow, Luca, these are amazing!"

Luca's face lit up with satisfaction, his heart swelling with pride. "I'm glad you like them. I aim to please."

The restaurant manager, James, sighed in relief as he entered the kitchen, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Luca. He patted his back with a grateful smile. "There you are, Luca. Thank goodness you're here."

Curiosity flickered in Luca's eyes as he turned to face James. "What's up, James?"

James took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I have an unexpected situation. My in-laws just informed me that they're coming over for dinner this weekend, and I won't be able to attend the opening of Rosio Sanchez's restaurant in Oslo. I was wondering if you could go in my place."

Luca’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. He had plans to enjoy his weekend off, but a free getaway to his former boss’ restaurant sounded tempting. He shrugged, realizing it wouldn't hurt to change his plans. "Sure, why not? I can go in your place," Luca replied as he shrugged nonchalantly. 

James's eyes shifted between Luca and Symone, lingering on the plate of waffles in front of her. "Oh, and bring Symone too. It'll be a great opportunity for her to take pictures for the Instagram and whatnot and to experience Rosio's culinary talents," James suggested.

Luca's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze shifting to Symone, who stood there with a stunned expression, her half-eaten plate of waffles in hand. 

James gave them a mischievous smile before making his exit. "Enjoy your breakfast, you two. And have a fantastic time in Oslo."

As James left them with puzzled expressions, Luca and Symone exchanged a bewildered glance. 

What. The. Fuckin’. Hell. 

#pastry passions #Hulu’s The Bear #the bear fx #luca x black!oc #luca x reader #luca the bear #marcus the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy x syd #the bear fanfic #the bear fanfiction #luca the bear fanfic #fatws spoilers #the bear spoilers #the bear season 2 #emjayewrites

[buckysbabygorl]

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky #fatws #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #mcu #tfatws #sebastian stan #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #the winter soldier #avengers

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Way Over Yonder [Song Fic Trope]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Song Fic style 1. Lyrics for a song are used as inspiration for the fic, often woven throughout the story "Bucky finds solace in your body and the seaside"

Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio) No use of y/n.

WC: 850

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

Way over yonder Is a place that I know Where I can find shelter From a hunger and cold And the sweet tastin' good life Is so easily found A way over yonder, that's where I'm bound

The breeze blew off the bay, a cooling contrast against Bucky’s face to the heated temperature of his skin in the sunshine.

A creaking behind him broke him out of his peaceful trance, the door to the cabin in Maine the two of you rented for the week closed with a snap as you joined him on the porch.

You’d convinced him to take a break, a vacation, and now he didn’t know if he could go back to Brooklyn. Not when things here with you were so calm, exactly the life he never thought he’d have.

The cushions of the outdoor sofa gave way as you plopped down beside him, curling into his side and finding his neck with your lips in an intricate dance of delicacy and seduction.

“Doll, that’s the third time today, I’m an old man sweetheart, I don’t know if I can handle going again.”

“Mmm but you’re also a super soldier with super stamina. And I’m sorry that I just can’t get enough of you this week. I want to make the most of our romantic getaway. Plus, I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Content. The happy, at peace version of you that only I get glimpses of. Makes me just fall in love with you even more.”

I know when I get there The first thing I'll see Is the sun shining golden Shining right down on me Then trouble's gonna lose me Worry leave me behind And I'll stand up proudly In true peace of mind

The familiar scent of your warm sun-kissed skin surrounded him. Bucky worked his lips in lazy, open mouthed kisses along your collarbone and chest. As many times as he’d had you this trip, there was no rush, no urgency to how he laid you down on the blue-painted floor of the porch. It was just the two of you in this little moment you’d made, and he wanted to bask in it as long as possible.

Looking positively ethereal beneath him in the dewey, afternoon glow as he slowly unbuttoned and removed your linen dress. No previous lover had ever touched you as delicately as Bucky, it was as if you were made of sand and would slip right through his fingers at any moment. He took his time, making sure the caresses of his metal fingers were just as gentle as those of his flesh ones.

And as you steadied yourself above him, rocking your hips in rhythm with the waves in the distance while he was buried deep inside your velvety walls, he swore he’d never felt such bliss. Cerulean eyes alight with wonder as his body, once made for violence, now met yours to do nothing but give and receive pleasure and love.

Talkin' about A way over yonder Is a place I have seen In a garden of wisdom From some long ago dream

You whispered his name like a sacred prayer into his mouth as he kissed you through your orgasm, driving into you over and over, hoping to prolong this moment just a little longer. To make this peace with you take up a little more space in his heart and drown out the darkness just a little more. He held you close as he came undone inside you, your sweaty skin sticking to his, salty air dancing on his lips as he moaned your name over and over.

As you regained composure, you hummed soft kisses into his skin while he steadied his breathing. Limbs entangled with his as the hardness of the floor dug into your back and you finally noticed just how uncomfortable the location was, but his warm skin pressed against yours was enough to make you stay like that just a little while longer.

“You know, when I first got out… after everything” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully as his gaze bore into yours “one of the SHIELD therapists said to me ‘there will be moments in your life, that you’ll be so happy, so content, that you’ll be glad you kept going, just to get there.”

“This one of them?”

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

Ooh maybe tomorrow I'll find my way To the land where the honey runs In rivers each day And the sweet tastin' good life Is so easily found A way over yonder That's where I'm bound

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #winter soldier #fatws #winter soldier x reader #mcu fic #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #trope de sept #trope

[kitsune024]

Stucky Fics

WinterFrost Fics

WinterIron Fics

*

Operation Hindsight by @dcangstfiction I Chapters 24/24 I Completed Time Travel Fix-It, Bucky & Winter Soldier, Dehumanization, Captain America Sam, Alternate Timelines. BAMF Bucky Barnes

Bucky and Sam follow Jack Rollins through time from 2024 to 2014. Armed with knowledge of the future, Rollins wants to make sure Project Insight succeeds and Hydra rules the world. Bucky and Sam take on the challenge of stopping him and preserving their timeline. To do that, Bucky has to take on the Winter Soldier.

The Life, Death, and Resurrection of James Buchanan Barnes by @dcangstfiction I Chapters 35/35 I Completed Winter Soldier Bucky, Bucky Barnes, Recovering, Multiverse, Alternate Universe - Canon, BAMF Bucky, Time Travel, Amnesia, Epic Bromance, Whump

One day in 2012, Steve Rogers encounters a doppelgänger of himself who says three words that change everything: "Bucky is alive." This is a story about friendship that survives war, tragedy, and the devastation of time. It eases into things with a glimpse of two friends growing up together in the 20s and 30s. It then goes DARK (mind the tags). Darkness doesn't last forever, though. It yields to light. COMPLETE. Thanks to Fictitious for beta-reading!

Avalanche by MuzzledRavings I Chapters 19/19 I Completed Winter Soldier Bucky, Secret Identity, CEO Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Remembers

When an experiment to improve the effectiveness of the Winter Soldier’s supersoldier serum is a little too successful, James regains his mind and his memories. After breaking free from HYDRA’s grasp, he finds the world is infested with HYDRA. Desperate for purpose, he puts the muzzle of the Winter Soldier back on to fight against his old tormentors from the shadows. When New York is attacked by aliens, the masked Avengers assemble. Not knowing who this new superhero team truly works for, James tries to find out while still hunting HYDRA. When it becomes clear to him that the Avengers can’t be trusted, he decides the best way to protect the world is to do it himself. So, the Winter Soldier founds a terrorist organization. TL;DR: The Winter Soldier founds a terrorist* organization *Terrorism subject to interpretation

Avengers: Search for the Winter Soldier by Wolverine6Claws I Chapters 58/? I Winter Soldier Bucky, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Psychological Torture, Emotionally Repressed, Body Horror, Brainwashing, Aftermath of Violence, Rape Aftermath, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Borderline Personality Disorder, Hydra Bucky, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha

Steve Rogers was adamant about finding his friend whom he thought had died decades earlier. Seeing Bucky behind the Winter Soldier's mask had stunned Steve. His mind had been reeling at the time, but now he was totally focused and committed to finding Barnes and helping him regain his identity. The Avengers team agrees to help him do just that.

paint me as the villain by TheCockyUndead I Chapters 21/21 I Completed Bucky & Clint Friendship, Manipulative Nick Fury, Blood and Torture, Past Torture, Steve & Tony

Out of everyone that could have captured the Winter Soldier, Fury hadn't expected to be the one to do so. But he didn't question it. After all, who was he to argue when a sharpened weapon was given to him?

Kill Strike Trigger by llethe I Chapters 17/17 I Completed Gen or Pre-Slash, Bucky/Natasha, Bucky & Sam, Bucky Remembers, Steve/Sharon implied, Hydra, World Travel, SHIELD

Rumlow actually smiles and crackles “our puppet, like you,” his voice so quiet and the words so distorted that Barnes just barely makes them out. He tells himself that they’re just words, and they’re just words designed to elicit an emotional response. It’s been just two months; there’s nothing HYDRA could have done by now, to make those words true. Right? A story of how far three people will go to bring Steve Rogers home -- and of how far HYDRA will go to bring home their Winter Soldier.

Oneshots

Falling and The Fallen by @iamshadow21 BAMF Bucky, Soul-Searching, SHIELD Agent Bucky, Post-World War II, 20th Century, Amnesia, AU- Different First Meeting, AU- Canon Divergence

You're in some kind of convalescent home in New York when you're visited by two men in uniform. Captain Steve Rogers, killed in action, they say, and that's how you learn his name. An AU where Bucky Barnes falls and is found by the Howling Commandos.

what departs at death by magdaliny World War II

Steve breathes a sigh of relief. Instead of giving in to his impulse to shout invective, to demand to know why Bucky broke camp without telling anyone, why he keeps doing that, Steve says: “Who you talking to, Buck?” Bucky pats something on the ground and shifts his leg.

Running Through My Veins (An American Masquerade) by @cheesethesecond Winter Soldier Foreshadowing, World War II, Implied/Referenced Torture, Hurt/Comfort

For all Steve’s bravado, his disregard and his blind determination, Bucky knows that neither of them thought they’d end up here—Bucky, with a body full of poison and secrets, a head full of landmines; Steve, with the weight of a nation on his newly-formed shoulders; both of them, with eyes for each other first. At least that part isn’t new. [Or, Bucky Barnes, from the rescue to the Commandos.]

Keep You Going Through the Show by Lauralot Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Pain, Implied/Referenced, Torture, Self-Harm, Blood, Gore, HYDRA Trash Party

The first time Bucky breaks his fingers, Steve thinks nothing of it.

Fulcrum by @laporcupina World War II, Military, keeping an eye on Steve is sometimes a thankless business, POV Bucky Barnes

Bucky really wishes that Steve understood all of the ways that this wasn't a back alley in Brooklyn, that this was war, and that he had a half-dozen men who would follow him to hell but he could try a little harder to keep those excursions to a minimum.

they came in by the dozens by orphan_account Captain America: The First Avenger, World War II, Canon-Typical Violence, War is hell and they're just trying to get through it, Team as Family

“Y’know,” Dugan gestures vaguely, “senators, war profiteers, generals. Big men don’t care if a few of us get blown up as long as we win the battle.” “Yeah,” Jones joins in, “we do the fightin’, they get the glory, and don’t care what else happens as long as they get their name on the front page.”

Bookmark Series

Blue-eyed matador by @flamingo-queen-writes I Part 1-2 I slow burn Bucky/Clint, Steve/Sam, Mute Bucky, Asset Bucky, Implied/Referenced HYDRA Trash Party, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers, Kinda dark to start out, Dehumanization The Claws That Catch by MuzzledRavings I Part 1-2 I Completed Amnesiac Bucky, BAMF Bucky, AU - Canon Divergence, BAMF Tony, Avenger Bucky The Hollows by ealcynn I Part 1-4 I Standard Winter Soldier Warnings, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, hydra All Life's Evils by @bridge-agent I Part 1-2 I Past Winter Soldier/Natasha, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha, Action/Adventure, Drama

Bucky || Winter Soldier with Fanart

I've Heard That Song Before by @pokimoko I Chapters: 10/10 I Completed World War II, Minor Peggy/Steve, Winter soldier Bucky meets the Howling Commandos, Time Travel Winter of the White Wolf by @klecrone I Chapters: 75/? I Winter Soldier Bucky, White Wolf Bucky, Captain America Sam, BAMF Dora Milaje, Post-Canon Fix-It, Wakanda, Friendship

Bookmark Series

Bucky and Sam in 1946 by @dcangstfiction I Part 1-2 I James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Time Travel, AU - Canon Divergence, 1940s, BAMF Bucky, Alternate Timelines, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism

#winter soldier #fic rec #fanfic rec #bucky barnes #bucky fanart #bucky fanfiction #winteriron #stucky #winterfrost #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #ao3 #must read fics #mcu bucky #i love bucky #captain america winter soldier #fatws bucky #ao3 fanfic #i ain't gonna put in all the tags in each fic so yall read the tags

[bi-disaster-yn]

Free

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x gn!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s recovery isn’t easy but one day he is reminded that he is free. Based on Free by Florence + The Machine.

A/N: For the most part, I try to write Bucky as living his best life with Reader but idk ever since I have heard this song, this is all I can think of. Great song, highly recommend. Also wanted to write realistically about Bucky’s mental health rather than ‘oh well he has Reader now - depression cured!’ so I hope I did that justice!

Tag-List: @kpopgirlbtssvt

Sometimes I wonder if I should be medicated

If I would feel better just slightly sedated

Bucky tied his shoelaces in the dark. It was 5am and the sky was still a pitch black void. He moved as quietly as he could, trying his best not to wake you up.

His nightmare had woken him up this early. Thankfully, he didn’t scream this time or else you’d have woken up and insisted on going on this run with him.

Bucky went running every morning to try and tire himself out and get rid of the thoughts that plagued his mind. Being the supportive partner you were, you would get up with him most days and join him. However, the serum allowed him to run continuously for hours, making it hard for him to exhaust himself. You always tried to keep up but once you’d pushed yourself to your limit, you’d both go to a nearby track and you would sit to watch him run himself quite literally into the ground. Some days his feet would bleed and he would stop, others you had to put your foot down and stop him.

It was taking its toll on both of you. Bucky could see how tired all of this running made you and just wanted you to get some sleep. Despite his best efforts, the running was having its desired effect on you rather than him. He wanted you to at least reap the benefits.

Sometimes, he just wanted to be sedated so that he could get a proper rest. He often pondered if the nightmares would still get to him if he was tranquillised. But then he’d be stuck with them without being able to wake up. He couldn’t give that kind of power to another person again.

He rubbed his tired eyes as he got up from the bed, pressed a kiss to your temple and left to start his run.

A feeling comes so fast and I cannot control it

I'm on fire, but I'm trying not to show it

The brisk air sent a chill down his spine as he started with a light jog, playing music in the headphones you’d bought him to drown the thoughts out.

Bucky was struggling with his mental health and recovery. Depression, anxiety, PTSD; all of these things that had been induced by his time at Hydra continued to consume his everyday life. He was trying his best to understand this new vocabulary that was not available in the 40s and what this actually meant for him. He was just grateful that he hadn’t been carted off in a straitjacket, locked in a padded room and had the key thrown away.

Still, Bucky hated feeling helpless. These conditions were always there, aggressively eating away at him in the background. But sometimes they would attack him by surprise and bring him down to the lowest depths of the abyss that was his mind.

He hated the fact you had to take care of him. He wanted to be stronger for you and resented the fact that you had seen him be so weak. It was another reason he was silently glad you hadn’t come on this run with him. The man was erratic and drove his feet painfully into the ground with each step.

All you wanted to do was help him recover and you were determined to do anything to help him. Even if he didn’t want you to.

Bucky hated his therapist with a passion. The days leading up to his sessions each week saw him get more irritable and restless until he eventually had a panic attack. He let out an audible groan as he remembered the time you’d found him on the bathroom floor, gripping at his hair and rocking back and forth. He had begged you to not make him go.

When you had talked him through the panic and got him breathing regularly again, he confessed why Dr Raynor had been extremely unhelpful. The hurt look on your face was borne into his mind as he’d told you about the time she responded with “bullshit” when he had confessed that all he wanted was peace.

Bucky had sat on the couch feeling helpless as you had paced on the phone to a lawyer about what they could do to get him another court mandated therapist. He’d played with his fingers, feeling like a burden and wishing he had just been that little bit stronger to keep that information to himself.

He shook his head violently on the run, closing his eyes momentarily in a desperate attempt to banish the memory of him being so powerless. And you having to save him, again.

It picks me up, puts me down

Picks me up, puts me down

A hundred times a day

This routine of obsessive running for hours was the only thing that came close to being able to suppress the memories for a while. Often, you’d both be sitting in silence but his thoughts would get too loud that he wouldn’t be able to stand it. Running was almost like he was in training to fight Hydra off if they ever came back for him. If he could get through a run with the memories and thoughts at least dulled and muffled, then he had beaten them that day.

His recovery saw these waves of gloom wash over him in amongst times where he thought he might be doing okay. Some days, Bucky would seem reformed. He’d crack sarcastic jokes or he would offer to take you out for lunch so you could both spend time with Yori. On his good days, Bucky could be very flirty and almost cheeky. The same glint appeared in his eyes that were in the few pictures you’d seen of him in the 40s. He’d kiss the back of your hand and up your arm to your shoulder, pulling you in for plenty of hugs and soft kisses. He’d remind you how much he loved you repeatedly since sometimes he didn’t have the energy to say it when he felt down. When you blushed, he’d give you a gorgeous toothy grin and for a moment, he’d look really happy.

These days were always short-lived and it wasn’t long until the inevitable darkness anchored in his brain, weighing him down once more. Bucky would put his face in his hands and cry, begging his mind to just let him have his good day for just a little while longer. It was a cruel cycle to have good days and then be dragged back underwater so suddenly. It was like being waterboarded; the good days being a momentary relief where he would gasp for air only to be inevitably filled with pain once more. The memories of good days left a sour taste in his mouth as he resented the fact it couldn’t be like that everyday.

I'm always running from something

I push it back, but it keeps on coming

Bucky grunted and grimaced at the memories and thoughts replaying in his head. He wanted to drag them all out through his ear and leave them on the ground so he could run away from them.

With every step, every move, every breath, he’d hoped he was another bit closer to being rid of the ugly thoughts trapped in his brain. If he could just focus on the run, the adrenaline and his heart thumping in his chest, he’d find his way back to being human again. He wasn’t going to be Hydra’s asset anymore; he’d be James Bucky Barnes.

It was the definition of insanity; Bucky obsessively running to try and solve the problems in his head. Each day he expected a different result, and each day he would be disappointed.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he felt a dull ache in his chest as he tried to drive away the lingering demons. Instead, they emerged from the ground and grabbed greedily at his ankles, trying to bring him down with them. Bucky whimpered, shaking his head and increased his pace in a desperate and pointless attempt to drown them out.

It picks me up, puts me down

It chews me up, spits me out

The self doubt crept up on him brutally and strangled him. A deep panic set in as thought that you might have woken up after he’d gone and taken your chance to leave him.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone he’d loved abandoned him. Steve had risked his life and his friends’ lives for Bucky. He’d spent years trying to get his friend back.

Bucky let out a hungry gasp for air as he continued to press on with the run. Tears leaked in the corners of his eyes remembering Steve telling him “don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

The unforgiving voice in his head reminded him that when Steve had went back to be with Peggy, he’d done so in the knowledge that Bucky was somewhere being tortured and used mercilessly by Hydra. It made him question if the friendship and affection was real that Steve could just abandon Bucky in a world he didn’t know and not do anything to prevent the horror that he had went through.

If Steve was capable of leaving, you could be too.

You were so kind and so patient. When he had a panic attack, you were soft and calm in the way you would coax him out of it even if it took a very long time. It didn’t matter to you, he was the love of your life and if all he needed was time and patience, you had that in abundance to give to him. You would often cradle him in bed; spooning him and peppering soothing kisses on his back and shoulders, or lying on your back with his head on your chest and playing with his hair. When you noticed him get increasingly anxious and fidgety in public places, you would intertwine your fingers with his and give his hand a squeeze. He was grateful for you rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and giving him something to focus on.

Bucky pondered how long it would take for you to have had enough of this caregiving role and leave him.

But I hear music

I feel the beat

And for a moment

When I'm dancing, I am free

After a couple of hours, Bucky decided that he wasn’t focused enough and the run wasn’t fulfilling its intended purpose. He hadn’t beaten Hydra that day. With slumped shoulders and a heavy heart, he stumbled back to your apartment. He was half terrified that you really had taken the chance to leave him while he was gone. God knows, he’d basically trained you to run over the past few months; you could run away easily.

Bucky was pleasantly surprised when he returned home to see you in the kitchen, illuminated by the morning sun that streamed through the window. It made you look angelic.

You were dancing around in one of Bucky’s t-shirts and your underwear, making some breakfast. You happily sang along to the song that was blaring from the speaker. Mrs King from downstairs would probably come up at any minute and demand you turn it down. Nonetheless, you were enjoying the moment while it lasted.

Bucky smiled at the sight of the love of his life so carefree and relaxed. He leaned off the doorframe and admired your questionable dance moves, falling even more in love. The anxiety inducing thoughts from his run started to dull and his heartbeat regulated. A smile even found its way on to his face as he appreciated the domestic bliss of the moment.

You got a fright when you turned round to see him, he’d been so quiet. You chuckled when you realised it was Bucky and put your hand on your chest, still tapping your toes and wiggling your hips.

“Hey, handsome, did you have a good run?” You asked, not bothering to question him on why he didn’t wake you to come with him. Sometimes Bucky needed to do things on his own and that was okay.

Bucky ignored the question, he didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, he walked towards you and took your hands in his, starting to sway you with him.

“Here, sweetheart.” He smiled. “Let me show you how we did it in the 40s.”

He moved your hand to rest on his shoulder and put his vibranium hand on your waist, pulling you in to his chest. He rolled his hips in perfect motion, dancing around your kitchen with you. You giggled watching him relax and concentrating on leading the dance.

“Hope you’re gonna have me back home for 9pm, James Barnes. You know how strict my dad is.” You joked and he let out a genuine hearty laugh.

“You know me, perfect gentleman.” He replied as he gave you a twirl and then pulled you back into the dance again. “And it’s Bucky to you.”

Is this how it's always been?

To exist in the face of suffering and death

And somehow still keep singing

For the first time in a very long time, Bucky felt effulgent as he continued to dance with you, showing you even more of his moves. His heart skipped a beat as he observed your clearly impressed expression.

“Who knew my man was such a good dancer?” You beamed at him as he pulled you to his chest after extending your arm out.

His brilliant white teeth shone as the corners of his lips stretched into a wide and contented smile. The simple understated pleasure of dancing with you in the kitchen on a Saturday morning forced the last of his excruciating thought from the run out of his mind.

It made him wonder if this is the kind of joy that others get to feel everyday. Did everyone else just get this feeling and take it for granted? This moment with his favourite person was already etching itself into the walls of his core memories and attempting to overwrite some of the distressful ones still lurking there.

The positive emotions worked together in tandem, bringing his tense body into a more relaxed posture. His muscles ached, having been held in a stealthy poise for so long and ready to fight. It was a good ache, it felt new.

You had used his arm to give yourself a twirl, smiling widely at him. Bucky took a deep inhale of breath, looking at you with a balance of complete adoration and disbelief that you were actually his.

But there's nothing else that I know how to do

But to open up my arms and give it all to you

Bucky’s lip quivered as he pulled you in to his chest and held you tightly, scared that if he let you go that you’d disappear. He was trembling but could still hold you in a rigid grip. Something about this moment awakened a sense of overwhelming relief in him. All of those years of suffering, all of the heartache and fighting that followed, Bucky had never allowed himself to relax. He’d been operating in the ultimate defence mode. But there was a sense of serene calm in dancing with you that morning, none of you were in a rush, no one was calling on him for something, no one was interrupting. He could only express his appreciation for the moment by holding on to you tightly and feeling your heartbeat thumping against his body rhythmically.

“I’m free.” Was all he kept saying. He mumbled it into the side of your head repeatedly, leaving kisses there in between each word. Despite Ayo saying those exact words to him all those years ago in Wakanda and the failed attempts of others to use the Winter Soldier words on him, he’d never truly believed it until now. He’d never said the words out loud himself. Bucky was free.

“Need me to hold on?” You asked, the embrace taking you a little by surprise but you were happy to oblige. Anything to comfort your super soldier.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, baby.”

You squeezed him so tight you hoped it would transfer some of your love for him into his body and he’d start to feel it for himself. No matter how much you gave him, the remainder would always be enough. Your love for Bucky was endlessly being topped up and renewed. It was time he felt that for himself.

Bucky moved your face to press his forehead against yours. “I’m free.” He repeated.

“You’re free.” You confirmed, pressing a light kiss to his lips. Bucky shuddered, feeling the acceptance finally take purchase in his body. Hydra couldn’t get to him now. Especially, when he was in the arms of his love. He wasn’t theirs anymore.

Bucky knew the euphoria of this moment wouldn’t last forever and that he would still have his down days. But he had something that was worth fighting the darkness for. Freedom.

And for a moment, when I'm dancing

I am free, I am free

I am free, I am free

#Spotify #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #James Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian stan #fatws bucky #bucky barnes angst #FATWS fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfic

[fleurdelouvemonth]

2023 Fleur de Louve (SarahBucky) Ship Month Prompts

This is collaboration with the original announcement post.

Below you'll find a transcript of all the prompts for this year's ship month event! (For those who couldn't see it on the original image.) It's a mix of dialogue, subject, AU, and seasonal prompts. We tried to be versatile this year, so we hope you like them.

Don't be shy! Late comers are welcome, and late submissions are welcome as well. None of these have to be completed in order the day of/day before.

All that we ask is, if you like this ship and want to see more, then join us in the fun! No submission will be turned away.

Week 1: Food Prompts (Nov. 1 to 5)

Halloween Candy

Sweet Potato Pie

Pumpkin

Chai tea

Soup

Week 2: Dialogue Prompts (Nov. 6 to 12)

"There's no place like home."

"I think it looks nice."

"Tell me a story." "I don't know any stories."

"You've got leaves in your hair."

"I love you, but you have the worse poker face I've ever seen."

"Do that again."

"Would you like to dance?"

Week 3: AU Prompts (Nov. 13 to 19)

Celebrity/Bodyguard AU

Coffee Shop/Bakery AU

College Professors AU

Space AU

Tattoo Parlor/Flower Shop AU

Med School/Doctors AU

Mermaid/Pirates AU

Week 4: Seasonal Prompts (Nov. 20 to 26)

Falling leaves

Chilly mornings

Apple picking

Football game

Gratitude

Sweaters

Family dinner

Week 5: Tropes Prompts (Nov. 27 to 30)

They were roommates

Friends-to-lovers

Bed sharing

Found family

#bucky barnes #sarah wilson #tfatws #fatws #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanart #bucky fluff #sarahbucky #fleurdelouve #buckysarah #sarah/bucky #ship month #ship moodboard #ship month event #fleurdelouvemonth #fleur de louve month #fleurdelouve month #tfatws fanart #tfatws imagine #tfatws fic #falcon and the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #captain america fic #sam wilson #Sebastian stan fic #bucky barnes x sarah wilson

[justinewt]

Truth - MARVEL REWRITE Chapter Eighteen

[MARVEL REWRITE-MASTERLIST] - [THE MULTIVERSE SAGA]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

Summary: TBA

Words: 6k

Warnings: Falcon & the Super soldier episode 5 spoilers, Marvel phase 4 spoilers, little blood, fight, nostalgia, FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF, some tough love and heart to heart talk <3

Frainn, Bucky and Sam followed the tracks left behind by John and found him in the abandoned shed of a disused train station. He was on his knees, immersed in silence, his head bent forward, his forehead resting on his hands as he held the bloody shield up in front of him. Frainn’s was clenched, her skin was nlue like ice and if a stare could kill, John would have been reduced to ash by her poisonous red eyes. She was enraged. Her blood boiling in her veins. She only wanted to see the shield off of his filthy hands. He didn’t deserve something with such legacy and history behind it. What would Steve think of this? Frainn knew that he would have been fighting along them to get it back, if he could, but unfortunately, he was gone, and it was up to the three of them to deal with this and kick some ass in order to do so. John was on Frainn’s blacklist and when she would have the opportunity, she would end him. But right now, she kept it together and stared at the man kneeling on the floor. He raised his head and cracked his neck before standing up and walking towards the three Avengers standing in the hangar.

“Walker.” Sam was the first to speak up.

“You guys should see a medic; you don’t look so good.” He said, walking past them.”

“Shut the fuck up and stop right there, Walker.” Frainn was losing her patience with him, and she tensed up her fingers, freezing him in place.

“What?” He turned his head to them as she released him from her control. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to!” He went off rails, starting to yell. “He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.” Bucky countered calmly, shaking his head. Walker sighed, rolling his head. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.”

“I’m not like you.”

“The fuck you’re not.” Frainn laughed bitterly, giving John a look of contempt and mockery.

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle. Okay?” Sam tried to reason with him. His approach was way more tactful and subtle than what Frainn would have gone for. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. John…” Frainn clenched her jaw a little, letting Sam talk. Breathing quietly, she and Bucky looked at the dried blood on the shield before looking at Walker's face. There was a silence. John stared into the void. “You gotta give me the shield, man.”

“Oh,” He smiled, raising his head to look at the three Avengers. “so that’s what this is. You almost got me.”

“You made a mistake.” Sam shook his head.

“You don’t wanna do this.” John breathed out, as if it was a warning worth caring for and Frainn raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yeah, we do.”

“You’re the one that’s gonna regret this. I won’t hold back like I did the first time.” She cracked her knuckles, stretching her arms and John suddenly ran to them. Frainn stepped back, throwing a forceful breeze at him which threw him on a rusting engine behind. He exchanged a few punches and kicks with Bucky and Sam until Sam was pushed to the ground, letting out a grunt and Bucky struggled against John. The moment she would intervene, the fight would be over in no time so she let John wade through the mess he had gotten himself into. She grabbed her spear, channeling her power through the weapon and when John’s blow made Bucky fall as he lifted the shield above the super soldier, she hit the ground with the bottom end of her spear and then threw the mighty shaft, knocking the shield off his grip. The shield went to slide further away in the hangar and John turned to look at it on the verge of running after it, but he was blocked off by her powers which allowed Sam to land a kick in his legs, knocking him down. John couldn’t go to the shield; he was attacked on all sides by Sam and Bucky, so Frainn calmly walked past them and marched toward the shield.

She got down on one knee and picked it up carefully. She frowned, pursuing her lips as she got the blood off the surface by generating a layer of ice over it and blowing it off with some wind. She then stood back up and turned around. She threateningly stared at John as he fought the two soldiers and walked over to him. Holding onto the shield, she put it in horizontal position and pivoted her body, throwing the shield right on John’s back. He got pushed against a machine in front of him and hit his head before falling to the floor, passed out. The shield spun loudly on the floor and came to a stop. Panting, Bucky and Sam got on their knees, catching their breath while Frainn stretched out her arm and called her spear to her hand like her uncle Thor did with his hammer. Bucky grabbed the shield and walked beside John's unconscious body and headed toward Sam as the latter lied down, a little beat up. They stared at each other in silence and after a moment, joined by Frainn holding her spear, Bucky walked out of the hangar, blood staining the bridge of his nose.

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli, but so far they’ve only found her followers. They’ve searched this camp, and just like the last camp, nothing.” Leaning on a railing, Bucky and Frainn watched Sam standing near the table on which rested the shield they had recovered from Walker's dirty hands. “She’s gone. We’ll never find her.”

“Hey, you, uh, you got your sleeve back.” When Torres arrived in the room, Bucky straightened up, ignoring his attempt to start a conversation and walked around the handrail, heading to a door frame beside it.

“Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam asked, sitting on the edge of the table. Bucky briefly turned to Sam and looked at him, but he just left, Frainn following along. Before desapearing behind the wall, she nodded at Sam, giving him a friendly smile. He nodded back at her and their steps eventually took them too far away to hear what he was talking about with the young soldier. The Goddess sighed. This all situation wasn’t getting any better. They weren’t really making any progress and in that moment she wished she had Heimdall’s power to see all in the universe so she could locate Karli with the snap of a finger but she did not possess this power and the latter died because of Thanos after he opened the Bifrost to bring Banner and her back to Earth, where she landed in Wakanda, quite in shock from what happened to her people a mere instant ago. She found her lover but lost her world, and almost everyone she ever cared for. The trauma that resided from all that happened to her was weighing on her shoulders to this day, even though Bucky made the burden lighter. As they walked out the building, she turned her head to him.

“Are you sure you want me to come?” He glanced at her before looking back ahead of them as he kept on walking.

“Yes. We lost 70 years already.” He said soflty and he grabbed her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers and she smiled. They both went through a lot, and they found comfort in one another, just by being near each other.

Battle of Sokovia Memorial, Former Sokovian territory

Zemo was standing still, facing the memorial carved in the stone in the memory of all that perished back in 2015 when the city collapsed and then the whole country fell. Flowers and pictures were sitting around it. With the lake and the forest, it felt peaceful, proper to think of the losses in silence and mourn the dead. Frainn, in a black tailored suit joined her hands at her waist and as Bucky came into Zemo’s field of vision, she walked to the side of the memorial and took a deep breath, observing the nature around them before pivoting towards Zemo. The adults and children sculpted on top of the stone bearing a proud eagle with a crown over its head, stood tall, their eyes closed as they were immortalized in stone until the end of time.

“I thought you’d be here sooner.” He told Bucky before pausing. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“Imagine my relief.” His gun clicked in his hand as his face remained stoic, staring at the Barron who turned around upon hearing the sound of the weapon and glanced at it out of the corner of his eyes. Silently, he turned to Bucky, glancing briefly at Frainn standing to the side with her arms crossed and he took a few steps towards the super soldier.

“The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned Sam, but he didn’t listen to me.” He tilted his head forward and shook it before looking up at Bucky. The latter was listening to him, his brows in this eternal slight frown, not taking his eyes off him. “He’s as stubborn as Steve Rogers before him. But you… they literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere, and there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”

“I appreciate the advice. But we’re gonna do it our own way.” In front of a stolid and impassive Bucky staring at him, Zemo chuckled softly.

“Yeah. I was afraid you would say that.” When the gun clicked again, he flinched a bit, blinking nervously at the sound, looking away, kind of into the void really as if he didn’t dare to look Bucky in the eyes anymore or even glance at Frainn. After a second of heavy silence, he nodded, exhaling and he looked back at him as he raised the gun up to his head, clicking on the hammer to put the firearm in a firing-ready position. Wouldn’t Frainn have known what Bucky had in mind regarding what was happening in this instant, she would really have thought he was determined to kill Zemo. One could think that, but she knew better. He tightened his hold of the grip of hid handgun, shaking imperceptibly. Zemo nodded, his gaze locked on Bucky and his eyes quivered at the click that sounded from the gun when he pressed the trigger.

A smirk rose the corner of his lips as he put down the gun from the Barron’s face. Frainn took a few steps towards the two men to get closer and Zemo blinked at her before turning his head back to Bucky when the latter lifted his metal arm, his hand closed into a fist and opened it, the cartridges of bullets rained down from his hand, falling in a concert of clanking sounds as they hit the paved ground. An instant later, the Dora Milaje walked to them and stood around Zemo. He sketched an understanding smile and nodded.

“Ladies… I took the liberty of crossing off my name in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do.” Bucky nodded quietly. “Goodbye, James.” He turned his head to Frainn. “It was an honor meeting you, Frainn. I do still hope I will have the occasion to hear more of your story.”

“We will take him to the Raft…” Ayo declared to Bucky as they watched the latter being escorted towards a ship by the two other Dora Milaje. “Where he will live out his days. It would be prudent to make yourself scarce in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf.”

“Fair enough.” He agreed in a low voice, and Ayo gave him a nod before walking away until Bucky addressed her before she left. “Hey!” She stopped in her tracks and turned around. “I may have another favor to ask of you.”

Delacroix, Louisiana USA

Frainn’s skin was so fair that the bright and warm sun of Lousiana made her look like porcelain. As if she hadn’t seen the sun in forever. Needless to say, due to her cold heritage, tanning was not an option for her. When she pushed her sunglasses up over her jet-black hair, falling on her shoulders, her eyes shone crystal blue in the sun, looking like tinted glass. She had swapped her elegant black suit with a long red and black floral dress. Covering her shoulders entirely, the dress flowed down into an elegant V neckline. The loose fit and the thigh high slit on the left side of the dress made it both enjoyable to look at and to wear in a warm summer like this. The light and soft fabric flying softly with the breeze. She looked around them as Bucky walked towards a truck with a bunch of stuff packed in the roofless trailer and lifted something seemingly heavy with ease, helping them to unload it from the vehicle. His intervention, coming out of the blue because they didn’t see him or Frainn coming their way surprised them a little bit as they watched him put it down with a grunt.

“You’re welcome.” He said and Frainn casually made her appearance in Sam’s sight, standing beside Bucky while the latter pulled up a suitcase on the truck trailer. “Just dropping this off. You can sign for it and I’ll go.” Sam approached and looked at the case. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

“Sam!” A woman came running as a pipe began to hiss white smoke on the boat. Sam turned away from Bucky, Frainn and the mystery suitcase and stepped over the edge to rush to the pipe. He bent down to grab some tools and tried to tighten the nuts. Struggled would a better choice of word.

“Hi.” Bucky and Frainn greeted the woman, waiting for Sam to deal with the issue and she smiled to the both of them. The super soldier stepped on the boat and came to Sam.

“Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up.” He told him over the loud hissing. Sam let him take the tool from his hands and and he successufully tightened the nuts. It took him only a couple seconds to stop the hissing and Frainn finally jumped on the boat.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?” Sam wondered.

“Well…” He glanced at the said metal arm. “I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed.” Sam and Frainn exchanged an amused glance and he chuckled softly while the hundred-year-old man took a look of the boat, squinting because of the blazing light of the sun.“So, this is the boat, huh?”

“This is it.” He replied with pride in his voice.

“It’s nice.” Frainn stated, voicing what Bucky would have probably said himself.

“You want any help?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah.” He replied before stepping away, pointing to the side with his chin. Frainn followed him with her eyes when she heard Bucky talk to the woman walking around on the dock, holding a notepad in her hands.

“Hi. I’m Bucky.” He waved at her and she smiled brightly, holding the notepad up against her chest. Frainn didn’t know her at all, she didn’t even know what her name was, but she felt a certain sweetness coming from her and she couldn’t help but smile back, revealing dimples in the hollow of her cheeks. Bucky wrapped his arm around the Goddess’ waist, resting the palm of his hand on her hip. “And this is Frainn, my girlfriend.”

“Ah. I’m Sarah.” She stated, her friendly smile sticking to her face. This was only then that the realization hit Frainn that the woman was actually Sam’s sister, the same lady they heard him talk to over the phone so many times before. Frainn eventually turned her head and saw that Sam had stopped in his tracks and was waiting for them with a hint of annoyance in his gaze. Bucky followed her gaze and Frainn waved at Sarah as they walked away after Sam to help him to do whatever he needed to get done around the place.

With her powers, Frainn just flexed her fingers and moved her hands around, reparing what needed fixing on the boat. It was an old boat, clearly and it needed some help to get back in shape. Because she and Bucky were much more quick and therefore efficient in doing their tasks, it was a lot of fun to taunt Sam when he would struggle to do something and one of the two would intervene, to the irritated look of Wilson. She hadn’t had such a lovely afternoon in a long, long time and it was extremely refreshing. There was something about this place and the people she saw here, coming to give a hand and help around. A warmth she was quite estranged to, not to say that she never felt supported or loved. She had her family, her friend, whom for the most part were now all gone, and she had Bucky left. He was the only family she had left. And now, they had Sam as well, even though the two men wouldn’t admit they appreciated each other but she could see that. She didn’t have the powerful sight of Heimdall, but she had some common sense.

“Think Karli’s gonna throw in the towel?” The old soldier wondered as they emptied buckets on the boat. The sun was setting, and a coolness wafted through the hitherto warm air of that early spring afternoon.

“I think she’s gonna double down.” Sam declared.

“Any idea how to stop her?” Bucky asked.

“I got Joaquin working on something.” Frainn narrowed her eyes, and it took her a second of thinking to remember that that was the name of the young soldier who Sam befriended. She had a tendency to forget things she didn’t care much about and even though she remembered who this guy was, his first name didn’t stink in her head.

“Well, Zemo says there’s only one way.” Bucky added, and Sam remained silent. He didn’t like the thought of having to kill this girl to put an end to what she started. He didn’t want anybody else to die so it bothered him an awful lot but, in the end, maybe this one time, Zemo would be right. He wasn’t completely wrong when he said that she was too far gone. Frainn kind of agreed on that. Sometimes, you can’t fix things, and you certainly cannot fix people that don’t want or don’t think they need to be fixed whatsoever and Wilson would have to come to term with this fact.

“Well…” Bucky spoke up as the three of them chilled on the boat, drinking fresh beers in a peaceful silence. Frainn watched him stand up with a grunt and and came to clink glasses with Sam's bottle before finishing the drink remaining at the bottom of the bottle. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow.” He put down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. Frainn didn’t really want to move so she just stayed sat and noticed the grin stretching out Sam’s lips as he looked on the horizon, observing the ocean. “Get a hotel room for the night. Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?” Sam asked, turning his head to the super soldier.

“Well, I don’t wanna make it weird for you family.” He shrugged it off and Frainn smirked. She could tell he wanted to stay, and so did she, but he kept playing pretend, acting like it was not the case and it was funny to see.

“Just stay here.” Sam finally exclaimed. “The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts or if you have six toes or if your mom’s your aunt.”

“Okay, I get it.” Bucky smiled broadly and he and Frainn exchanged a look as they chuckled. “I mean, you know, the people are nice.”

“They are.” Frainn rose her eyebrows, nodding heavily and Sam joined in their laughing.

“We probably have an extra mattress somewhere in case the couch isn’t big enough for the both of you.” He took a sip of his drink and added something, pointing at the two of them with his index finger. “But watch it, all right? There are kids in the house.”

“No, of course.” Frainn lifted her head and glanced at Bucky standing beside her, staring away with pursed lips. The Goddess coughed after she chuckled at Sam’s comment but choke on her drink. She swallowed and nodded at Bucky’s response.

“Cause if you don’t, I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Okay. Now, I’m scared.” Frainn joked as she put down her bottle, raising her hand, palm facing Sam and she smirked before following Bucky off the boat. She shook her head, the brightest smile on her face and she glanced at the ocean, stretching as far as the eye could see. In this moment, she felt good. She felt at peace, and this was what she had always been looking for, and this happiness came thanks to Bucky, Sam and the people she met along the way. She didn’t feel down ever since she stepped foot here. She only hopped that the death of her father and people would stop haunt her dreams.

Frainn walked across the kitchen and came in on Sarah’s sons playing around with the shield, mimicking whooshing sounds and the gruntings of the battle, throwing fake punches in the air. She smiled, amused by the sight and crossed her arms, watching them silently as they didn’t realize she was there.

“Hey.” She voiced and before she could say anything else, the two boys put back the shield and ran out of the house. She giggled, following them with her eyes before walking towards the shield, lying on the floor in its cover. She crouched down, and pulled it out quietly, a strand of her dark hair escaping from behind her ear. She rested the palm of her hand on the surface of the shield and for a moment, she saw herself fighting with Steve, kicking some ass during World War 2 and she smiled in nostalgia. If it wasn’t for Steve fighting off a bully in this back alley of New York, she never would have encountered Bucky back then and maybe the relationship they had now would be different, or completely non existent. Maybe they wouldn’t be close to each other at all. It was because she landed there and that she helped this tiny, skinny guy that she was with the love of her life today. Bucky’s waking voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she wiped away a tear that had run down her cheek and smiled at him.

“Hey.” His eyes and soft smile as he glanced at the shield as she put it back in its cover were worth all the words in the world to express the grief and strong sentiments he still felt regarding this meaningful object. He couldn’t express how much he missed his childhood best friend, but his pretty blue eyes were still shining with love and affection in view of the face of the one he had loved for seventy years and would love for a hundred more. She stood up and walked towards him and sat on the floor, beside the couch, resting the side of her head on Bucky’s pillow. He was looking at her, plunging his gaze in hers. Hanging onto each other's eyes, he gently reached out his arm to tuck the lock of hair behind her ear, stroking her temple with the tip of his fingers in the process. She lifted her hand and went to hold his. He wrapped his fingers around hers, gently as she brought them to her lips and placed a kiss, her breath caressing his skin as she exhaled.

“I love you, Buck.” She whispered, holding his hand as she rested her arm on his chest. He couldn't help but let this loving and almost coyly grin grow on his face.

“I love you too, Frainn. My goddess.” He brought his face closer on the pillow and put his forehead against hers. She was so in love with this man. She never thought something like this would happen to her as in her hundreds of years of existence, romantic love had never been a priority for her, or something she even slightly cared for. No need to say that during the six hundred years she spent on Jotunheim, she wasn’t busying herself with flirting with people there. The blue giants weren’t her favourite people of all, and by the time she came back to Asgard, her heart was already taken, despite her thinking that he was gone and thus for years. She would never love anyone the way she loved him. She would live longer than him though, and by thousands of years, but no matter what, she knew that there wouldn’t be another Bucky. If she ever did outlive him, she would never seek another lover. It wasn’t something she ever needed in her life until she met him, so it wasn’t something she would ever need from someone else. He was the only person she would ever love and be vulnerable with.

After a few minutes, Bucky got up and they walked out of the house together and headed for the docks. It was quiet at this time of the day. The sun was barely emerging from the water in the horizon, his warming light lighting up the ocean. They took a second to breathe the fresh air coming to their noses, their fingers intertwined, holding hands. Frainn looked around and they climbed down a ladder into the hold of the boat and met Sam, struggling with his crowbar. Bucky held the crowbar in place with his metal arm and Sam screwed a couple things back up before taking the bar out.

“Hey, start loosening those bolts.” Sam handed a screwdriver to Bucky after he circled the machinery in the hold and Frainn observed him. She looked away and moved her finger. The super soldier raised his hand holding the tool and frowned at the sight of the bolts loosening on their own before remembering what the woman standing by him could do and he smiled with a scoff. “We could use your powers a little more.”

“No problem.” She nodded at Sam with a friendly smile lighting up her face. A moment later, they were outside, sitting around a table on the dockside, looking at pieces of engines that needed fixing, but they were a bit lost.

“Okay, so… there should be a three-sixteen bolt that goes into the big gear.”

“Nope.” Bucky retorted.

“What do you mean “no”? You didn’t even look.”

“I didn’t have to.”

“I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem and yet, here you are.” Sarah walked up to them.

“Yep, Samuel.” Bucky agreed, to taunt him.

“In our defense,” He raised his hands. “we were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

“I don’t come up to the sky to tell you how to barrel roll, so don’t down here and mess around with things you clearly don’t understand.” Frainn bit her lips, containing a laugh as she looked at Sam being roasted by his sister.

“Wow. Wow.” He frowned, processing it and the Goddess glanced at Bucky, smirking.

“Bye. Off.” Sam eventually stood up, imitated by Bucky and Frainn. “Thank you, Gentlemen. Lady. Appreciate you. I love you, bro.”

“She’s a very mean person. Kinda like you Frainn.” Sam complained, in the way of a young child that got scolded by a parent. Bucky patted Sam on the back with his metal arm.

“It’s tough love.”

“No. If you did what I told you to do, we would have been done before any of this took place.”

“Yes, sir.” Frainn mechanically retorted, causing Bucky to laugh and even Sam couldn’t help but be amused. They were a hell of a trio.

The breeze tickled the leaves of the trees as Bucky and Frainn stood by Sam, watching him practice wielding the shield the famous Steve Rogers, their dear late friend, once owned.

“Feels weird…” He confessed to the two behind him. “picking it up again.” Sam then threw it again and it was Bucky who caught him. “The legacy of that shield is… complicated, to say the least.”

“When Steve told me what he was planning, I don’t think we understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield.” Bucky said softly. “How could we? I owe you an apology.”

“So do I.” Frainn nodded, her arms in her jacket’s pockets as Bucky handed the shield to Sam.

“Thank you.” He pursed his lips and grabbed the shield, glancing at his two partners.

“Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn’t your fault…” Bucky continued. Sam nodded, listening to his friend. “I get it. It’s just, that shield’s the closest thing I’ve got left to a family, beside Frainn I mean, so when you retired it, it made me feel like I had nothing left. Made me question everything. You, Steve, Frainn, me. You know, I’ve got his, uh… I’ve got his book. And, uh… I just figured if it worked for him, then it'd work for me.” He looked down at the book as he held it in his hands. Opening up wasn’t an easy task and Frainn understood it perfectly.

“I understand, man. But Steve is gone.” Frainn suddenly looked at Sam at the mention of Steve and she swallowed harshly. She wasn’t speaking, opening up like was doing Bucky but she had an as big emotional baggage, and the memory of Steve was among the heaviest of the memories she kept dearly. Bucky frowned briefly, sighing heavily, nodding. “And this might be a surprise but, it doesn’t matter what Steve thought. You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are. And I’m saying this to the both of you.” He gave them each a meaningful look. Bucky caught the shield once again and looked down at it. “Let me ask you. You still having those nightmares?”

“All the time.” Bucky admitted with a bitter smile. “It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.” He swinged his metal arm, throwing the shield and it came back to them. Frainn pivoted on her feet as she caught it.

“Frainn.” She turned around and faced Sam. He stared into her eyes and glanced back at Bucky, about to address both of them in whatever he was about to say. “You both up for a little tough love? You want ot climb out the hell you’re in, do the work. Do it.”

“I’ve been making amends.” Sam cut him off with a scoff.

“Nah. You weren’t amending, you were avenging. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier, because you thought it would bring you closure.” The look on Bucky’s face was showing that it was already making him think. “You go to these people and say “sorry”, because you think it’ll make you feel better, right? But you gotta make them feel better. You gotta go to them and be of service. I’m sure there’s at least one person in that book who needs closure about something and you’re the only one who can give it to ‘em.”

“Probably a dozen.” Bucky shook his head.

“That’s cool. Start with one.”

“Good talk.” The super soldier nodded with a light smile raising the corners of his lips and Sam laughed. They then stepped towards each other and shared a strong handshake and Frainn let a smile dawn on her porcelain face.

“You know Karli won’t quit.” Sam mentioned.

“Ah.” Bucky smacked his lips, glancing around. “You call us when you have a lead, and we’ll be there.” Frainn handed the shield to Sam while Bucky picked up his bagpack with his jacket on top of it and theys tarted walking away together. “Not necessarily as a team.”

“Nope.” The goddess looked at the two and smiled, amused by how childish they still were sometimes.

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.” Wilson agreed.

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

“Co-workers.” Sam really had to correct Bucky and Frainn let out a chuckle. She stayed silent and listened to their funny exchange.

“But we’re also a couple of guys and a norse goddess with a mutual friend."

“Friend’s now gone.”

“So we’re a couple of guys and a Goddess.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.” He said, smiling. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

“Of course.” Bucky gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Frainn.” She looked at Sam. “I can’t pretend like I understand what you went through. I don’t. The things that happened in your life are beyond me, and even Bucky. And I’m not a shrink but I can tell you that this build-up of anger you’ve nurtured for your whole life, it doesn’t have to keep poisoning you. I can see how much you help Bucky so let him help you. You’ve lost everyone. So much grief can be like a chain ball that you drag everywhere with you and I see, when you’re being sarcastic or aggressive, you try to make it lighter.” He took a breath. “I’m just gonna put this out there but, it’s not because you’re a goddess and everyone expect so much of you, that you can’t talk. Just like I told Bucky, you gotta do the work, if you want those demons to go away.”

“Yeah.” She exhaled and nodded, looking down. This wasn’t a conversation she thought she’d have with Sam one day but he was thoughtful and of good company and advice, and he just showed it to them. He shook her hand, a friendly smile on his face and he then shivered as he touched her hand.

"Damn you're cold.” She laughed and he gave Bucky and her a nod before they eventually walked away, the super soldier wrapping his arm around Frainn’s shoulders. They had each other. Sam was right. It made her think about what troubled her, which she realized she’d hid away somewhere in her head to forget about it but she let her fears and traumas torment her, causing her hallucinations of her dead father leading to her breaking down, nightmares of the slaughter of her people, of Thanos. She didn’t want to keep seeing these things. Corpses were all that filled her nights. Death. Pain. Loss. She had hoped her father would be able to rest in peace but if he could see the state she was in after everything, she knew he wouldn’t be able to. She had to remember that he reunited with her mother and that she, Frainn, had the right to go on, build a life with Bucky, and there would be no All-Father to try and ruin it. They could live.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

Published (06/08/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405​ @kika64

#marvel #marvel oc #Marvel Studios #marvel cinematic universe #MCU #MCU loki #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu phase 4 #mcu phase 4 spoilers #fatws #fatws series #fatws spoilers #fatws fanfic #fatws oc #bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel bucky barnes #falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #sam wilson #fatws episode 5 #fatws episode 5 spoilers #falcon & the winter soldier rewrite #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier rewrite #fatws rewrite #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #marvel original character #marvel oc loki's daughter

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | prologue

Summary: After the fall of Hydra, you discover the location of The Winter Soldier, under the orders of Captain America.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Captain America: The Winter Soldier & Captain America: Civil War. Mentions of choking & near death.

Word Count: 480

Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: My hyperfixation is FATWS at the moment, so here we are.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10

You were assigned to Steve Rogers the second you became an agent. The job involved assisting him on missions, writing his mission reports, and everything in between. Glorified personal assistant, you would regularly joke. Steve saw you as more than that, he would always tell you how appreciated your work was and that he genuinely thought of you as a good friend. The feeling was mutual, so when he sent you on a solo mission, it didn’t come as a surprise. 

“You need to find him,” Steve calmly demanded as he handed you a classified file. You flipped through the paperwork to find that your target was his long-lost friend and The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes. 

“You’re sending me to find The Winter Soldier?” The realization of the potential dangers crossing your mind. “Me?” you questioned him whole gesturing to yourself. “Guess I’ll say my goodbyes now.” 

“I wouldn’t send you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he reassured you, “I’m only asking you to find him. He won’t even know you’re there.” 

Famous last words, Steve. 

~

In the dimly lit staircase, the air was heavy with tension, you stood before him: Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier. Your eyes were locked together, you took a breath before daring to speak.

“Sergeant Barnes?” you murmured, you could feel your heart pounding as you looked down at the super soldier. It had been too late to hide, too late to run. He had been walking up the stairs as you quietly closed his apartment door, causing you to freeze right there.

A flicker of uncertainty danced in his eyes as he struggled to reconcile the fragments of memories in his mind. “I know you,” he spoke as he began to close the distance between you. 

You reached up to brush aside the strands of hair that covered part of your face, revealing the bruises that had formed on the skin around your neck. “On the bridge,” your voice trembled as you tried to recall the encounter that had brought you here. “You, um..” you struggled to find the courage to voice the terrifying experience. Steve had taken you on many missions, and you had fought against actual aliens but Bucky, for the first time on that bridge, you thought that would be the end. 

His eyes fell on the bruises, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He admired the marks he left. It was obvious which hand had left them and it wasn’t metal. 

“I marked you up real good, didn’t I?” his voice laced with amusement as he reached up, tracing the outline of his marks gently. A shiver raced down your spine, a mix of fear and desire. You found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn’t explain, there was a connection between you. A connection you didn’t see yourselves losing any time soon.

---

Masterlist | Next Chapter

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #fatws!bucky x agent!reader #fatws #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier

[frostironfudge]

🎟 mini movie theatre

Bucky being grumpy coz it’s been 3 days since he has eaten you out coz you get so excited and turned on and skips foreplay.but now he’s had enough🫣😂

A Taste Of You

Summary: this is part of my funfair celebration under the 'mini movie theatre' category and well making bucky wait is the absolute worse you can do to him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Warnings: bucky barnes, filth, smut, oral fem receiving, praise kink, clothes being ripped, dom sub kinda dynamic?, dom bucky, feral bucky, just bucky is a warning.

A.N: ma'am you're making me sin and simp for this man too much. i absolutely love it.

Main Masterlist || frostironfudge's funfair masterlist

Bucky huffs at your message, annoyance radiates through him. 

Your flight was delayed, which meant it would be pushing to the three day mark.

Three days without holding you. 

Three days without hearing your laugh in the same room as him.

Three days without your kisses.

Three days without his head being buried between your thighs.

That last thought had him ebbing towards annoyance. He licks his lips and before his actual brain can catch up, his not-so-little brain is typing out the message and sending it.

Bucky: Get all the rest you need on the flight and at the layover, you won’t be able to get out of bed once you’re here.

When his actual brain reads the message again, it agrees. You made him like this, addicted to you. Addicted to your heart, mind, lips, body, the way he felt every shiver when his hands would trace upon your skin.

The way your heart would beat erratically as he guided your hips over his own when you would straddle him.

Your soft needy, whimpers when he would taste you, tongue buried deep, devouring at your entrance, sucking on your clit.

Just the remembrance of you under him had him hard and his tongue moving over his lips as though to collect the remnants of your orgasm, just a taste more before he would devour you again, then sheath himself in your warmth.

Moaning your name, praising you for taking every bit of him. Praising you for being so good. Watching your skin flush and wetness grow at his words. Whispering the filth that would not end until you came for him undone with the softest of caresses.

He thinks back to the night before your flight, he was eager to have the taste of you upon his tongue. Allowing him to carry you through his days without you. However, to his delight and disdain you wanted him to stretch you apart. Fuck you, fill you up.

Who was Bucky to deny your mewls and pleas?

He remembers how your skin tasted, a mix of sweat, your lotion’s fragrance lingering lightly, your scent, your arousal, him all mixed into this hedonistic combination. He stayed buried in the sheets after he dropped you to the airport.

His cock sends a painful burn through him, he knew thinking of you in this way was painful. Because the only respite for you came from you. He would be damned if he let you have your way tonight.

He smirks at your reply, a teasing image of you wearing lingerie you purchased while on the trip, no doubt your best friends pushed you for it, he’s grateful. The colour of the lace against your skin, the way the material hugged your form, Bucky wanted to rip it off but also leave it on.

He responds with his predicament, you laugh reading the message.

You: I can offer the solution when I land.

Bucky:  tease.

You: as if you aren’t.

Bucky:  oh sweetheart, you’re in for a treat tonight.

Bucky stands back from the crowd at the arrival gate, even at one in the morning there was no shortage, he spots you as you search for him in the scarcer occupied areas. Your gaze meets his and the smile that graces your face warms his heart. 

He begins to move towards you and you to him. Almost like magnets approaching. Your luggage trolley half abandoned and you bound the last few steps to him, Bucky lifts you up, your legs wrap around him and his forehead rests against your own.

“I missed you.” He confesses, his words breathless because his chest stops aching, because you’re back in his arms, back to him.

“I missed you too.” You whisper against his lips your own voice uneven, your lips meet his own.

You can feel the slightly raised portion from where he probably gnawed at it nervously, he hisses into your mouth as you tug upon the very portion. Bucky’s hand moves along your back drawing you closer as his tongue moves against yours, he allows you to part from him to breathe.

“I have two.” You murmur, his brows furrow, then his blue eyes sparkle, as his pupils widen at the prospect.

“Good, because I have decided to rip it off of you.” He promises, setting you down to walk back to the car.

Bucky sits on the bed, clad only in his boxers, he could hear you putting on the lace in the bathroom. He had half a mind to barge in and rip it off. He decided to keep his patience for a while more. 

He could almost taste his reward. 

When you step out, your gaze on the floor and then towards him. His lips part as his eyes map out every inch of you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He breathes, sitting up, you move to the bed, straddling him. A low moan as your cunt sits right upon his hardened cock.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. All mine.” His hands move from your hips to your breasts, your nipples hardened against the fabric as he explores your skin.

Bucky’s vibranium fingers move around the hem of the fabric, teasing your nipples with the slightest of touches. You arch your back, grinding down as the tendrils of pleasure deep into you from your clit.

“Can feel you soaking my cock right through this fabric, pretty girl.” He whispers, rolling your left nipple and his lips trace over your neck. You preen.

“So wet for me? Did you think about my cock while you were gone? About my tongue?” He lowers the lace, your head thrown back as he takes one nipple into his mouth. He lets go and blows upon it, you grind down harder against him.

He takes your other nipple into his mouth, biting down upon it, your hands have a mind of their own moving towards his waistband to free his cock.

“Bucky—,” Your eyes widen when he grabs your hands, turning so you’re under him.

“I thought today, today she will be patient.” He shakes his head, your brows furrow.

“I thought—,”

“I only want moans coming out of that mouth.” He instructs, then your hear the fabric of the panties tear, cold air against your aching core has you shiver, Bucky pushes you down as he moves between your thighs. 

“Buck—,” Your plea to him is cut off as his tongue moves over your folds and he moans at your taste. 

“So fucking pretty, all for me.” He praises, lips latching onto your clit, he sucks upon it, sending jolts through you. 

Your thighs clench and he only hums in pleasure as you moan his name wanton with need for more. 

His index finger traces over your entrance, slowly sinking in, you clench around his finger. 

“So eager.” A second finger added, you clench your thighs again, as a warning for his fingers to not retreat out. 

But Bucky smirks, as you clench around nothing, your eyes find his glistening fingers as he sucks upon them. 

“Going to eat you out so good.” His fingers pump in and out at a slow pace, the way his teeth slightly tug on your clit you cry out, fingers finding his hair. 

Pulling him closer and pushing him away when his stimulus is too much. 

Bucky takes his sweet time, increasing and decreasing his pace as he pleases, he loves the way your thighs clench and you try to close them when his movements become too much. 

He keeps edging you, smirking when you become a mess of his moans and letting him know how close you are, tears spring to your eyes as three of his fingers are inside you, they fill you up. You meet the thrusts with movements of your hips. 

His tongue languid, leisurely sending sparks of pleasure to your clit. His vibranium thumb circles around your clit, your slick drips down to his palm. The cold mixed with the heat building in your abdomen. 

“Bucky please, please—,” you beg, his movements pick up pace and you shake as your orgasm finally crashes into you. Bliss carrying you and the aftershocks aggravated by his continued circles on your clit. 

You tug on his hair, waiting to taste yourself on his lips, he always enjoyed showing you how much he relished devouring you. 

His fingers pause inside you as he meets your lips. You moan into his mouth. 

He begins to move his fingers again, you part away from his lips as they attach to your neck, sucking on the spot the draws the prettiest moans from you. 

“Bucky, please, need you.” You beg, your hand wrapping around his bicep. 

“Oh no sweetheart, it has been more than four days since I have tasted you. I’m absolutely hungry, and you’re the most decadent treat for me. So go on spread those pretty legs, tangle those sweet fingers in my hair. You aren’t going anywhere till I’m full. Then maybe, maybe I will fill you up too.” He places a soft kiss to your jaw, parting your thighs again. 

His eyes are only a thin ring of blue as he admires your arousal only increasing for him. 

“See, she wants me to have my full.” He smirks, your clit pulses in anticipation. 

His lips wrap around your clit, his fingers brush over the spot that he knows like the back of his own hand. 

“Moan for me sweetheart, need to hear you fall apart for me.” He hums in delight as his fingers circle over the spot inside you, your moans reach his ears. 

He smirks against you clit, yeah he was definitely rewarded for his patience. 

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

#bucky x female reader #buck barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #bucky x yn #bucky barnes smut #the winter soldier x you #frostironfudge #james buchanan barnes x you #white wolf #bucky is the best #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #fatws #fatws x reader #fatws bucky #fatws fanfic #falcon and winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #frostironfudge’s funfair #marvel #bucky barnes #enemies to lovers #hurt comfort