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#james barnes
justauthoring · 3 months ago
Lost Along The Way
Prompt: Oh my you take request for Bucky? Don’t mind if I do! I would love to have some angsty little thing with him. Maybe you fight along side them against Walker (in the beginning off episode 5) and walker really hurts you or something which results in Bucky loosing his shit? I hope you are doing well and that you’re healthy✨ also I LOVE your work! Requested by @pieces-by-me thank you!
A/N: It’s about damn time I wrote for Bucky after the amazing-ness that has been FATWS (I also hope to get some Sam fics out soon). Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
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How you got roped up in this, you’ll never know.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that you’d do anything, anything, for Bucky. And you’d come to accept that fact long ago.
But it didn’t erase the fear in your body as you stared back at a pair of eyes that have no trace of humanity left in them. No sort of normalcy to the crazed look in his eyes as he hovers over you, an arm pressed tightly against your neck, pressing enough for your skin to grow hot and your eyes to bulge as you desperately try to suck in what gasps of air you can.
You’re all too aware of the fact that the man could snap your neck in seconds if he wanted. Maybe even if didn’t want -- if he lost control, more so then he already had. There was a thinned out string, a roped that had been tugged and pulled so far that it was seconds away from snapping -- that being the only thing that’s stopping him from crushing your neck in seconds.
You don’t have the energy nor strength to push him away. There’s no fight left in your system even as the voice whispers in the back of your head -- I don’t want to die -- you won’t be able to get him off you. The bleeding wound on your head that had you seeing double, the numbness of your left arm, and pain seeped deep into your muscles proving that.
You didn’t want to die, but as you stared up at John Walkers face, the sweat on his skin, the way his jaw clenched, and the glazed, far gone look in his face stared back down at you, you realize you’re going to.
Your last moments, you realize with a whimper, are going to be spent staring at someone that had been given the title of Captain America. You were going to die by Captain America’s hands, and the thought of that crushes you even further as you remember Steve, remember all he’d done for you, what he means to you. 
And you think it’s a particularly cruel joke that his successor will be the one who kills finishes you off.
The pressure on your neck lets up, and for split second, you find hope blooming deep inside of you. But it only lasts that long, a second, and then your eyes find the edge of the shield lined directly above you, the blood of his last victim staring mockingly down at you and you think this is far worse then it being his hands that kill you.
“Please,” you choke, voice coarse, barely audible, but you know he hears it. “Please don’t do this.”
But he doesn’t stop. His grip on that shield doesn’t lessen. 
Time seems to slow, and your lips part, body slumping against the cold ground beneath you as you blink, and the image of Steve appears above you. Over you, smiling at you, holding a hand out for you, to help you, before the shield lowers and your eyes are clenching shut, scared for impact.
The weight is off of you in seconds. It takes you a moment more before you even realize that fact, and then you’re eyes are snapping open and you’re sucking in a breath of air you had been craving for for far too long.
The sound of metal clashing against metal catches your attention, and you force your body to move, rolling on your hands as you try to push yourself up. But you can’t. You’re too injured. So all you managed is to push yourself up enough to catch sight of a familiar head of brown hair, and through blurred vision you watch as Bucky tackles John to the ground, the sickening sound of his vibranium arm hitting him directly in the cheek.
Bucky fights with a certain fervor he hadn’t had before, something you’re sure you’ve never seen him have before. He’s ruthless, and suddenly it’s like his strength doubles as he doesn’t let Walker get in a single second of rebound. He’s cold, harsh, and every hit he lands smacks with a certain ferocity that has you frightened.
Sam is running towards the two of them in the next second.
And as you watch, the strength in the battle shifting to a place you’re sure they’re winning, you realize this is far beyond what you could’ve ever expected. This is something far darker, far too twisted for you to have ever expected. There’s so much anger, so much blood, and everything’s happening so fast.
You remember after the blip, the loneliness, the fear that every seemed to walk around with -- you thought it could never get worse then that.
You’d never been more wrong.
When it’s done, and the thud of the shield falling by Sam’s feet snaps you out of your own revere, it takes you a second to realize that Bucky’s making his way toward you. 
He helps you to your feet, silently, pressing a hand to the bleeding wound on your forehead that you shrug off, letting him lead you out. Not a word is shared between the two of you.
He’d attacked John like that, with so much anger, because of you, you knew. Because Walker had nearly killed you. It became more then just getting the shield then, you knew, at least for Bucky. 
And somehow, in some twisted, sick sort of way, you’re happy that he’d do anything for you as well. 
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buckys-bug-archive · 2 months ago
their angel
summary: bucky and steve have their sights set on you to be the third element to their relationship. you’re flawless in their eyes. their perfect angel. how long will it take for you to accept them?
pairing: dark!daddy!stucky x little!reader
w/c: 2.3k
warnings: kidnapping, forced age regression, forced drug ingestion, reader forced to be naked in front of them, if you don’t like dark fics do not read this!!
note: i’m thinking of making this a lil miniseries if it does well?? lmk what you think please!! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated :))
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Bucky and Steve have been searching for the missing piece in their life for a long time. They have each other, but it has always felt like there is something missing. Something inexplicable that they need to fill the void in their life.
That is, until they meet you.
They know as soon as they lay their eyes on you, that you have to be theirs.
And so they formulate a plan.
They get close to you, bit by bit, gaining your trust and affection until you trust them enough to be one hundred percent comfortable around them. Little do you know, the drink they buy you at one of Tony’s parties is spiked and you’re out cold in mere minutes.
Once it takes effect, they waste no time in taking you to their apartment, already completely little-proofed and ready for their angel. You.
When you awake, you’re cold, scared and completely confused. You scream out for someone, anyone to come and rescue you; you have no idea where you are or what is happening and you hate that lack of control.
Steve rushes to your side in an instant, cooing and whispering sweet nothings to you as you shake in his strong hold, trying to writhe out of his grip and get to an exit.
“Ah, ah, angel face. Where do you think you’re off to?” You hear Bucky’s stern voice ring across the room and you cower away from it, sinking into Steve’s embrace and hiding your face.
“Please don’t hurt me.” You manage to whimper out, hating the vulnerability of your voice in your own ears.
“Why would we hurt you, sweet girl?” Steve croons affectionately. “You’re our sweet baby, we’d never hurt you.”
“What? Wh-what are you talking about? What is going on?” Your voice rises a few octaves and you thrash wildly against Steve’s muscular arms enveloping you.
“Why do you think we brought you here, doll?” Bucky asks you as if the answer is obvious, and you shrug your shoulders, a look of pure bewilderment crossing your face.
“L-look, I don’t know what’s going on here. Just please let me go. Bucky-,”
When you say his name, Bucky lets out an almost inhuman growl and you cringe away from the noise, hiding your face in Steve’s chest as he’s the less frightening of the two.
“That’s not my name.”
“What?” you furrow your brow and cock your head inquisitively at him.
“That’s the first rule, sweetcheeks. You only address us by our proper titles.” You whip your head around to look at Steve, and he just nods along, affirming Bucky’s words.
“Daddy.” Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach and you feel as though you’re about to throw up.
“I don’t want this.” you whisper and Bucky laughs darkly.
“Do you really think that you have a choice?”
At that, you begin to sob. Hot tears pour down your cheeks uncontrollably as you heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. It feels as though it’s impossible to get enough air into your lungs and all of your muscles turn to mush. Steve holds you up, resting you against his chest as you scream and cry, a pained expression on his face whereas Bucky watches and enjoys your suffering, enraptured by your pain and unable to look away. You’re smart enough to know that you’re not strong enough to overpower one of them, let alone both. You’re stuck, whether you like it or not.
“Baby, there’s no need for tears.” Steve attempts to comfort you but as soon as his hand makes contact with your face, you scream. Flinching at the harsh noise, his eyes travel up to Bucky’s for reassurance and Bucky sees red, the fury he feels clearly reflected on his face. He walks towards you in two long strides, crouching down so he’s at eye level with you.
“Stop crying, or I’ll give you something to cry about.” His voice is dangerously low and your breath hitches in your throat, but your sobs don’t cease. Before you can even register what’s happening, Bucky’s hand makes contact with your cheek, hard, and a loud smack reverberates around the room.
Your next sob catches in your throat and you stare at him with wide eyes, your cheek already becoming red and hot to the touch.
“Good girl.” Bucky praises your silence, reaching his hand back out to soothe your cheek. You flinch away from him and he tuts, moving closer still and caging you between himself and Steve.
“I don’t understand what’s happening.” Your voice is awfully quiet and most people wouldn’t have even picked up on your speech. Bucky and Steve are not most people.
“Don’t you wanna be good for us, doll? Be our little girl? And we’ll be your daddies.” Bucky explains and you blanch at the mere thought of it.
“We’ll treat you real nice, princess.” Steve promises, running his fingers through your hair with a degree of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from a hardened super-soldier. “Buy you toys and all the stuffies you want. And colouring books. You like drawing and colouring, don’t you?”
“How do you know what I like?”
“We’ve been watching you, dollface.” Bucky murmurs to you, taking your hands in his. “Been gettin’ close to you, seeing what you like and what you don’t. Wanted to make everything perfect for you.”
“Was this your plan the whole time? To kidnap me?” you ask, incredulous.
“We’re not kidnapping you, sweet girl.” Steve chuckles. “We’re saving you. We see how hard you work all the time. How stressed you are. When you’re here, you don’t have to worry about big girl stuff. You can relax and we’ll take care of you. We just want to help you.” You find yourself almost agreeing with Steve’s comforting words before you’re wrenched back to the reality of your situation, the sheer gravity of your predicament falling on you - you’ve been kidnapped by two of your most trusted friends.
“But why me?”
“It’s always been you, from the moment we saw you. You’re the one for us.” Steve whispers into your hair, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, finally being able to be close to you after months of holding back and restraining himself.
“I just want to go home, please Steve.” A hand strikes your cheek once again and tears pool in your eyes as you whimper pathetically at Bucky, already feeling yourself slipping into the headspace that you’ve been repressing for months.
“That’s not his name, baby. C’mon, you know better.”
“‘M sorry, Daddy.” you mumble, surprised at how easily the name rolls off of your tongue, almost liking the feeling of saying it.
“Clever girl. This is your home now.” Steve kisses the top of your head and lifts you into his arms as he stands, causing you to let out a high pitched scream and hide your face in the crook of his neck.
You stay hidden like that until he suddenly places you down on a soft mattress and sits you up to look at him.
“I think you need a bath, baby. Come on.” He holds his hands out to you and you shuffle away, your breath quickening as anxiety washes over you. “There’s no need to be scared, it’s just me.” He attempts to soothe you but inadvertently terrifies you more as all of the breath punches out of your lungs and you cry into your hands. He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom as you kick and scream.
When he sets you down on the bathroom floor, you flail your arms behind you in an attempt to wrench free of his iron grip, gasping in horror when you land a hard punch to his jaw. His face hardens and you attempt to scuttle away across the floor, cowering behind your arms and whining, the fear evident in your voice. Lunging towards you, he grabs your face harshly in his big hand, inching his face closer and closer to you until your noses are touching.
“I’m trying to be nice here, little girl. You might not understand what’s happening yet, but this is for your own good. And if you keep misbehaving, I will have to punish you.” The stony expression and the hard set of his jaw makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach and you apologise instantly.
“‘M sorry, Daddy.”
“Good girl, you’re learning fast. Let’s get these clothes off of you whilst I run the bath, then.” You whimper, tears forming in your eyes and Steve coos at you gently. It amazes you how quickly his demeanour changes from cold and threatening to warm and comforting in an instant.
“Don’t wan’ you to look at me.” you mumble tearily and Steve crouches down next to you, taking you into his arms once more.
“Don’t be silly. You’re beautiful.” he reassures you although it does nothing to make you feel better. Kissing your forehead, he stands up and turns the tap on, filling the tub with warm water. When you make no effort to get undressed, he tuts reproachfully and tries to peel your shirt off and over your head. Your grip on the shirt is like iron and you thrash wildly, yelling obscenities at him.
“Bucky!” he calls anxiously, pinning your flailing body to his chest.
Bucky saunters into the room, taking one look at you and sighing.
“I thought you were learning.” He grabs your wrist harshly and you cry out. “I’ll hold her down, you get the clothes off.” He directs Steve, pinning your arms behind your back as you scream and sob.
Once they’ve managed to pry the clothes off of your body, leaving you naked and shivering, you begin to cry harder as their eyes rake over your naked form. When you attempt to cover yourself, Bucky slaps your hands away.
“What are you hiding for, hmm?” he questions.
“Just le-let me go.” you cry, and Steve shushes you, lifting your quivering body and placing you in the tub. Your muscles automatically relax as the warmth of the water envelops you and you sink further into the bubbles, hiding your body from their keen eyes. Steve begins to rub your shoulders to help relieve the tension in your muscles and you have to bite back a moan; despite your situation, it feels really good.
“‘Atta girl. Just relax.” Bucky soothes; it’s the least confrontational you’ve heard him be since you arrived. You lean back against Steve as he continues to massage you and Bucky begins washing your body gently, frowning when you tense.
“I’m just washing you, baby. Chill.”
As much as you try to stay alert, the warm lapping of the water on your body combined with Steve’s gentle hands sends you into a dreamlike state. They both chuckle at your sleepiness, finishing washing you and lifting you out of the tub. They wrap you in a fluffy towel before carrying you back to the bedroom and drying you off.
“What pjs do you want, sweetie?” Steve asks you, “Rainbows or unicorns?” You frown at the childlike choices but choose without complaining nonetheless.
“Unicorns, please.”
“You got it, baby. You’re so clever, using your manners.” Steve praises and you can’t help but preen at his kind words, a soft smile adorning your face. He slips you into the pyjamas without any more fuss and lays you down in the plush bed, sitting carefully next to you.
“Okay, sweetheart. One of us needs to stay with you tonight to make sure you’re okay. Do you want me or Dada to stay?” You tug on his hand, a pleading look in your eyes.
“Words, baby.”
“You please… Daddy.”
“Okay.” He slips in next to you, pulling you flush against his body and feeling every tense of your muscles as you lay on top of him. “Relax, sweet girl. I’d never hurt you.” You try to listen to his instructions; a small part of you is desperate to please him and you really don’t know why, but the urge seems to be getting stronger. So you lay your head on his chest and take a shaky breath, trying to relieve some of the tension from your body and slip back into that dreamy state.
“Oh!” Steve suddenly speaks up, startling you. “I bet you’re parched, baby. Do you want some water before you go to sleep?”
“Yes please, Daddy.” You know that the water is probably laced with some kind of drug to make you drowsy, but you’ll take anything that helps you sleep at this point, just so you can escape from them for a little while. Bucky leaves the room and returns a couple of minutes later with a glass of water. He hands it to you and you take it with trembling hands, gulping the whole thing down in seconds.
“Thank you, Dada.” you mumble, handing the glass back to him. He places a chaste kiss to your lips, catching you off guard, and you lay back down against Steve; whatever he put in the water is already taking effect and you can feel yourself getting more tired by the second. Within a couple of minutes, you’re out like a light, snoring softly against Steve’s muscled chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head and gazing up at Bucky with a worried look.
“She’s already learning, Stevie. We knew this would take some time, but she’s gonna be fine. It’s not instant, but our angel is in there, and she already wants to come out.” he reassures him, kissing his forehead before leaving him with you for the night.
Steve can’t help but think about what’s to come, and worry about how long it will take you to adjust to this new life. Bucky’s words do bring him some comfort, and he has faith in the fact that there’s a part of you that loves them just as much as they love you; it just needs to be brought to the surface.
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buckys-bug-archive · 2 months ago
Oh my!!!! I love “Their Angel”. I do seriously love a good Daddy!Stucky x reader story. It’s just wow.
In that note, I would to request one in that category. Thanks for the hopeful consideration and thanks in general.
Daddy!Stucky x reader
When little Y/N gets injured (from however you decide), she fears that her daddies will be mad at her. So she tries to hide her injury. However, that night during playtime, all things come to a halt when her daddies find the injury and question her on it.
summary: you hurt yourself and hide it from your daddies.
pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader
w/c: 1.5k
note: thank you sm for your kind words!! it’s really appreciated!! now, this isn’t really dark like my normal fics on this blog but i love the concept so here it is haha :))
warnings: ddlg dynamics, daddy!stucky and little!reader, reader hurts herself, descriptions of blood, punishments (spanking), if i’ve missed anything lmk
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You hum happily to yourself as you skip down the concrete road outside of your Daddies’ house, holding your favourite stuffie and swinging her wildly in your grasp. As you turn the corner, you trip and fall, a strained shriek escaping your lips as you hit the concrete, sliding across it and grazing your knee. Blood pools to the surface of your skin and you have to bite back the tears gathering in your eyes, swiping them away with the back of your hand and gathering yourself up to head back inside. Just as you stand, Steve calls you for dinner.
“Lovebug, it’s dinner time! Your favourite, dino nuggets.”
“Coming, Daddy!” you croak, wiping the blood of your knee with the sleeve of your sweater and pulling the leg of your trousers back over the top of it to conceal the wound. You hop back in with a spring in your step to conceal the limp that you’d otherwise be showing, and toe your pink trainers off by the front door.
“Hey, dollface.” Bucky croons as you step through the door. “Did you have a nice time?”
“Yeah, Dada.” you smile half heartedly at him, cradling your pink plush rabbit to your chest.
“Oh dear, baby. I think Bunny’s a bit dirty. What happened?”
“Dropped her.” You pout, your bottom lip protruding out; Bucky places a soft kiss to it, finding you all too adorable.
“Do you want me to wash her whilst you eat? She’ll be dry by playtime if I do it now.” he asks gently, prying her from your arms.
“Okay, Dada. Promise?”
“Promise, baby.” Your easy agreement sets off alarm bells in Bucky’s head immediately, knowing how fond you are of Bunny. There must be something you’re not telling him. You’re too quiet - a stark contrast to your usual bratty behaviour.
“C’mon lovebug.” Steve appears suddenly behind you, lifting you into his arms. You hook your legs around his waist and nuzzle your nose into his neck, inhaling his scent that soothes your soul, instantly calming you. He plops you down into a chair, sliding your plate of dino nuggets with tomato ketchup on the side across the table to you.
“Fanks, Daddy.” Your slurring words mean that you’re slipping deeper into your littlespace, although there’s usually a cause for it and Steve can’t think as to why you’d be becoming littler this late in the day. He frowns, pushing your hair back out of your face as you bite into a nugget; you lean into his touch and he smiles softly.
“You feeling okay, sweetie?” Your resolve almost breaks right then and you feel the lump in your throat forming at your Daddy’s soft words, the throbbing in your knee still evident.
“Mm hm.” you hum around a piece of chicken, thumping your feet adorably as you chew.
When you’re done, Steve places your plate into the dishwasher and brushes the crumbs off of your face before lifting you out of the chair and carrying you to your playroom. You squeal with excitement, almost forgetting about your sore knee until Steve places you back down on the floor and you hiss quietly.
“What have you done?” He eyes you suspiciously and you ignore his question, tugging at his hand.
“Daddy, play!” You pull all of your favourite stuffies out from their basket and arrange them in a circle, poking Steve to sit in the circle too.
“What are we doing then, bug?” he asks, playing along but still concerned.
“Tea party!” You pour tea out for every toy in the circle, and your Daddy, taking your own plastic cup and sipping on the imaginary liquid. Bucky steps through the door and smiles at you playing so nicely with your Daddy.
“Here’s Bunny, baby.” He holds her out to you and you stand from your seat on the floor, taking her from his hands. Bucky doesn’t miss the slight waver in your step and frowns just as Steve did.
“Thanks, Dada.” You shoot him a toothy grin before hobbling back to Steve and continuing the tea party.
“What has she done?” Bucky asks quietly.
“I don’t know, she won’t say anything.” Steve mutters back, watching you suspiciously. Bucky slides into the circle next to you and strokes your hair gently.
“What do you say we get you out of these clothes, baby. Into something more comfy? Some pjs?” Your face contorts into worry and you bite your bottom lip.
“No fanks, Dada.” you rasp, turning your back to him and hugging Bunny close to your chest for comfort.
“Sweetheart.” Bucky chides gently, knowing already why you’re avoiding his question. “Come here.” He opens his arms and you shuffle onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his middle. His arms tighten around you and you tense instantly; you’ve fallen straight into his trap. “I’ve got her, Stevie. Get the clothes off.”
“No!” you wail, kicking your legs as Steve attempts to pull the trousers from your legs. Your efforts are fruitless as Bucky’s strong arms prevent you from moving even an inch and you begin to sob into your hands. Once Steve pries the trousers off, leaving your bottom half naked bar your panties, he tuts reproachfully as he takes in your grazed knee, filled with dirt and dried blood. He runs his fingers over it and you shriek, batting at his hands.
“Stop… hu-hurts.” Bucky’s chin comes down to rest on your shoulder, his lips inches from your ear.
“Why didn’t you say anything, dollface?” He asks gently, although you know that he’s angry underneath the facade from the way his muscles tense underneath you.
“Didn’t want you to-to be m-mad.” you stutter - a sign that you’ve slipped even further into your littlespace.
“We wouldn’t have been mad if you had told us before.” he whispers quietly, fury bubbling beneath his calm demeanour.
“‘M sorry, so sorry Dada.” Your chin wobbles as you speak and Steve wipes the tears from your round cheeks.
“We need to get you cleaned up.” Steve says. You whimper, sinking further into Bucky’s hold.
“And then, I think you need a punishment.” Bucky whispers.
“Please, Dada, n-no.” you mumble tearily, and he croons, kissing your cheek.
“Just a spanking. 10 for lying to Daddy and 10 for lying to me, that sound fair?” Bucky’s tone leaves no room for arguments but of course, you push his limits anyway. You whine, another tear trailing down your face and Bucky growls. “Don’t push it or you’re getting double.”
“Sor-sorry, Dada.”
“Good girl. Let’s get that knee cleaned up then.”
He scoops you up and carries you to the bathroom, sitting you on the closed toilet as he grabs the first aid kit. He douses a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and your muscles tense, waiting for the pain.
“It’ll only hurt for a second.” Bucky murmurs, swiping across your knee with the cotton; you absolutely howl as it makes contact, tears pouring down your cheeks and dripping off of your chin. When he’s done, he sticks a bandaid across your knee, patterned with tiny Hello Kitty’s and you giggle through your tears.
“Good job, baby. If you have your punishment now, you can have cuddles straight after, okay?”
“M’kay.” Bucky lifts you off of the toilet seat, placing himself down and bending you over his knee.
“Count em, baby.” You whimper as you see his metal hand lifting up and connecting with your bare cheek.
When the punishment is finished, you’re sobbing in his lap, hot tears trailing down your face and your nose running; he rubs your sore, red bum and pulls you into his lap for a hug, letting you cry into him until your sobs turn into quiet sniffles.
“You did so good, dollface. All done now.” he promises, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to your shared bedroom with them both. Steve’s in there waiting for you and Bucky lowers you into his lap gently as you wither in his hold, eyes drooping and becoming heavy.
“Someone’s tired.” Steve chuckles as you grab at his hand, placing his thumb in your mouth and beginning to suck softly. “No, sweetie, use your paci.”
“Nuh uh. Want you.” you mumble, snuggling further into him.
“Just for tonight, okay?”
“Mhm.” Steve lays you down next to him and pulls you into his side as you continue to suckle on his thumb until you’re snoring softly next to him, your mouth hanging open slightly to breathe. Bucky chuckles at the sight before him, shuffling in the other side of you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck.
“Silly baby, tired herself out.” he laughs quietly and Steve chuckles in agreement. You whine in your sleep, turning over so you’re facing Bucky and nuzzling into his warmth. He shushes you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleep, enveloped by your daddies. There’s no place you’d rather be than with them.
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venusmaderon · 4 months ago
Me five seconds into what looks to be caps memorial: “ Aww he’s really gone that’s so s-“
Also me the second the camera landed on the crowd:
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melwilson · 3 months ago
sam wilson appreciation post.
there’s no one in the mcu more caring, and gentle, and empathetic, and kind. he is the best friend everyone needs. someone who will call you out on your bs. someone who is kind enough and loves you enough to tell you what you need to hear even if you don’t wanna hear it. someone who treats you like family and gives you a place to stay. someone who listens and takes ones feelings into consideration. he’s the one you call one when you’re in trouble and need help.
sam wilson is just a good man. i say it all the time, i know. i can’t help it.
and they way he interacts w everyone in the show just makes my heart explode. he tries to reason with his enemies. john walker deserved nothing more than to rot in cell, but sam still wanted to talk things out. he comforts bucky, yes, but he also tells him what he needs to hear. he’s there for his family and doesn’t leave them behind despite the war he’s fighting against the flagsmashers. he believes in karli. ugh, i could go on and on about this man.
and bucky barnes. let’s talk abt character development for a moment. first off, he smiled genuinely too many this episode. i cry. anyways, the way he recognized his wrong and APOLOGIZED. HE APOLOGIZED. writers and directors always just kinda blow it off and leave the viewers assuming that the characters have made up and that it’s all good. but bucky apologized to sam. that- that is what i’m here for. as a poc that means so much, bc a lot of non poc don’t even make an effort to understand, to try and empathize. he tried. and he did.
lastly. i love this show. i love these men. bucky barnes is beautiful. sarah wilson deserves the world. i wanna take aj and cass out for ice cream. sam wilson was lookin like a snack and servin us lots of beautiful melanin.
yeah, sam wilson is my hero. sam wilson is captain america.
end of the story. goodnight.
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lieutspectrum · 3 months ago
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“But more important, the man... Because a strong man who has known power all his life. May lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of strength. And knows compassion...”
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beif0ngs · 4 months ago
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Sebastian Stan ★ The Winter Soldier
Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)
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boyfriendparker · 4 months ago
cookies, kisses, and such
a/n: i sat down to write a prompt, wrote 3k words & then didn’t include said prompt <3 anyways bucky barnes hmu to make cookies whenever ur literally the love of my life word count: 3k or smth warnings: none! just pure fluff 
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Something had... shifted. 
Yet somehow, nothing had changed. You can’t put your finger on it, but sometime between then and now, there’s a difference. Well, that much was obvious — a lot of things had changed since Bucky and you became friends. 
In the beginning, he was colder. 
You couldn’t blame him, coming from where he did. He had rented up the vacant apartment that shared your left wall and for the first couple of months, you weren’t even sure if someone had moved in. It was quiet next door, and while there was a shuffle of furniture being dragged around for the first couple days, it went silent soon after. 
In fact, the only reason you found out there was someone living next door was because you ran overtime on your shift. You had ducked home through the rain and darkness, your noisiness the last thing on your mind as you stomped down the corridor, a hot shower the only thing on your mind. 
It must’ve been past midnight so you were hardly expecting to bound into someone and you gasped as you slammed into someone coming out of Apartment 5C, the one next to yours. 
Spluttering out an apology, you stepped back to take your first look at your neighbour — who only muttered an assurance under his breath as he passed. You had watched him walk down the hall without a sound under his boots and enter the stairwell, with a realization that had been someone in 5C all along. 
As you unlocked your apartment, stripped off your wet clothes, and stepped under the scorching stream of your shower, you cringed to yourself. All your loud attempted ballads that you thought only the tiled walls could hear, apparently had had an audience all along. 
Pulling back your sheets that night, you wondered where he was heading at this time of the night but before you could entertain any answers, you had drifted off to sleep. 
Somehow, you had ended up in front of his door the next day, your knuckles rapping on the wood. But, after the second knock, you were beginning to think that he just wasn’t going to open the door. 
And after the third knock, you began to question whether you had imagined the man you had all but tackled the night before. 
Shifting the plate in your hand, the cookies on them slide an inch to the right, still warm. You were initially worried he would know it was just a cheap box mix but now you’re just worried he’s not going to open the door at all. 
You sigh and pick up one of the cookies, taking a bite of it, ready to give up — right as the door finally cracks open. 
The chain on his door is still locked and from what you can see, the man behind it is very surprised to have a visitor. 
Your eyes widen, your jaw furiously trying to chew and swallow the bite you just took so you don’t have to speak through your mouthful. 
“Hh-i!” It comes out a bit muffled. You force yourself to swallow the half-chewed dough, wincing as it goes down. Your cheeks feel heated and you force an awkward smile on your face. 
“Sorry, I just…” you trail off, lifting the plate of cookies higher as an explanation. “I thought I’d be neighbourly since I genuinely thought there was no one lived here. Didn’t mean to subject you to so much bad singing.” 
The man steps closer to the door, his eyes scanning your face in analysis and for the first time, you get a good look at him too. 
His hair is cropped short, his face is scruffy like it’s been a week or so since he’s shaved and he’s donned in a dark hoodie. From what you can tell, he’s handsome as well. You’re half expecting him to close the door without a word but after a long assessment, you seem to pass the test. 
“Do you—” he clears his throat like it’s been a minute since he’s spoken. “You always steal a cookie when you’re giving them as gifts?” 
Your cheeks feel hotter and you smile. “Only when it’s a batch as good as this.” 
The man smiles and you feel a surge of pride. You move the plate into one hand and hold the other out. “The name’s y/n. Apartment 5B.” 
You flick your head towards your front door. 
The man’s eyes follow your movement for a second before they move back to your outstretched hand. He shuffles behind the door and it closes for a moment before it opens again, fully unlocked. He still hangs behind the door but sticks out a gloved hand, shaking yours briefly. 
“Bucky.” He introduces himself and you smile, finally having a name to a face. You hold out the plate closer to him and he hesitantly takes it from you. 
“I’ll promise I’ll try to avoid any Taylor Swift songs for the near future.” You joke and Bucky’s brow furrows for a moment before it clears. 
“Thank you.” He says, before retreating into the apartment, closing the door without another word. Huh, not the talkative type, you mused. 
But still a victory in your books, you smiled wider to yourself, wandering back to your own apartment. Bucky. Apartment 5C. 
He gets warmer with time. 
You seem to pass him more in the hall since actually meeting him; you wonder if he was always there or he’s scarily good at not being spotted. He doesn’t quite smile but gives a nod of sorts, to show that he recognizes you. It’s nice — you think for a while, that’s all it will be. 
You won’t lie, you’re more than a little disappointed. Besides the fact he looked cute and you wanted to be his friend, you had also given him your nicest plate. Guess you weren’t getting that back any time soon.
You’re munching on Chinese food on your couch, a sitcom running on the TV but you’re not paying much attention. 
It’s the end of another working week and you’re glad to finally be off your feet, though, you don’t exactly love the quietness in your apartment compared to the liveliness of the shift. It was more gossiping than terrible customers, so much you were almost sad to leave your work-friends behind.
A knock on the door startles your attention, head snapping towards the noise. You feel a pang of confusion, not expecting visitors, quickly turning to concern. Who could it be? 
You consider not answering it when it comes again, softer this time and curiosity wins over concern. Placing down your food, you pad towards the door and ensure the chain is in place before you twist the knob and pull. 
You blink for a moment as you realize it’s none other than Bucky on the other side of the door. 
Your eyes take in his awkward half smile and travel down to the plate in his hands— your plate in his hands. With a fresh batch of cookies atop it. He looks less scruffy than the last time you saw him, his hair a little cleaner. 
“Bucky, hey,” you begin, pushing the door closed enough to remove the chain. “I wasn’t expecting…” 
My plate back. The cookies. You actually talking to me again. You trail off, not sure which answer is most appropriate. Bucky seems to sense your loss of words, clearing his throat and shifting back and forth on his feet. 
“I thought I should return the favour.” He makes an attempt to smile wider. “Be neighbourly.” 
You laugh a little, removing your hand from the door to take the plate from him with a warm grin. 
“Thanks.” His eyes drift over your shoulder, to the murmuring talk of the TV and you swear you see his nose twitch at the smell of your takeout. 
You weigh up your options for a moment, chewing on your cheek before you inhale, making a decision. 
“Did you have any plans tonight?” You ask. 
Bucky’s brows lift, showing his surprise but it quickly morphs into a small smile. He shakes his head. 
“How would you care for some Chinese food and re-runs of New Girl?” Grinning, you open the door open wider in invitation and Bucky contemplates your offer for a minute. 
He steps forward and smiles back. “How disappointed will you be if I tell you I haven’t seen this New Girl show?” 
Scoffing dramatically, you shake your head in feigned disappointment. “I hope you’re prepared for a marathon, my friend.” 
Bucky found it hard not to like you. You’re inviting, funny and most importantly, you seem to genuinely enjoy his company. 
He would’ve never guessed that the remedy to being somewhat social again was through his pretty next-door neighbour, but he wasn’t going to complain. 
You showed him the popular media you liked, which naturally, became the stuff he liked too. You were nice about his dismal cooking skills, spitting the baking soda clump in one of his cookies back onto your plate without a word. And you made life in these dingy apartments seem nice. 
Each night he got to spend time with you, it became increasingly harder to return to his own apartment. It didn’t hold life like yours seemed to do. 
Bucky is good at reading people. He knows from a glance if you’re too tired from work to have him over, but you’re never not in the mood to see him. After some time, he’s pretty sure he spends just as much time in your living room as he does in his own apartment. 
He never stays over. That’s a given by now. You’ve stayed up with him chatting past midnight and even had him knocking gingerly on your door, later in the night, your music giving away the fact you're not asleep. But he doesn’t stay; in fact, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get tired. 
You’re always the one stifling your yawns, slumping further down the couch, and letting your eyelids droop. Bucky’s a gentleman though, and he’ll take his leave when he knows you’re getting too tired but won’t tell him. 
He used to go at the first sign of a yawn but over time, you’ve convinced him that just because you’re yawning doesn’t mean you don’t want to hear the end of his story. Begrudgingly over time, he believed you. 
The one time you had actually fallen asleep on the couch, you awoke in the morning in your bed, a note on your bedside table that read didn’t want to wake you in Bucky’s scrawled writing and you smiled yourself giddy.
He’s warm enough that he almost glows now. 
It’s a drizzly Sunday evening and you’re dropping the last of the chopped spring onions into the Pho that’s bubbling away on the burner, filling your apartment with a delicious smell. 
Your hair is messily tied back from your face, a few strands escaping the hair tie and you’re wearing the only apron you own, covered in Australian flags brought back by one of your friends. 
A knock sounds on the door. 
“It’s open!” You call out, knowing from his knock that it’s Bucky on the other side. Besides, you’re expecting him — Sunday is the evening you always put aside for each other, even if you see each other every other day of the week. This week you haven’t had a chance to see him at all, much to your disappointment. 
You hear his boots on the wooden floor, the door closing, and the lock turning. You stir the pot, fighting to keep yourself from looking too eager at his arrival. His footsteps turn softer, showing he’s left his boots at the door and you bite back your smile, more than glad to know he’s comfortable here. 
“Hey, doll.” He murmurs and you turn to greet him with a smile. He sidles up to your side, peering down into the simmering broth, his hand unconsciously coming up to rest on your waist. 
“Sorry, I haven’t had time to come by this week. It’s been…” He trails off with a sigh — but as if he remembers where he is, who he’s with, his shoulders ease and he relaxes. 
“You’re fine,” you assure him, leaning into his side just a little bit. “Nothing a little hearty food can’t fix, right?” 
You pull your most cheesy smile and Bucky laughs, his eyes shining as he gazes down at you. If anyone else looked at the two of you, it would be an obvious guess that you were a couple. 
And it’s not like, you’re not. But, well, also, you hadn’t exactly talked to him about whatever this was. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up, especially considering how long it had taken the two of you to become friends. 
But the part of you that really wanted to sling your arms around his neck and kiss him was getting harder to ignore. 
Clearing your throat, you step away from him and fetch the bowls from your cupboards. As you spin back to him, Bucky takes them from you without a word and begins to set up your little coffee table by the couch. 
Dinner is like usual; comfortable silence as you eat, quiet chatter from the TV, and the two of you drifting closer together on the couch. 
By the time your bowls are empty, your arm is pressed against his as you lean against one another. Your eyes are on the screen and so are Buck’s but every couple of minutes, they shift to check on you. After the 3rd time, you can’t stay silent. 
“You alright there, Barnes?” 
Bucky falters for a moment, his eyes jumping between the TV and your face like he’s trying to play off his previous staring. His eyes settle on you and he smiles in that heart-melting way. 
“Just thinking back to the first time we met — you with your cookies at my door.” 
You chuckle as you recall the memory all those months ago. It seems a lifetime ago, your best plate and the best cookies you could scrape together, all presented with your best smile. 
“I’ve got a box in the cupboard.” You say and raise your brows, knowing he’ll pick up on your suggestion. Bucky’s eyes light up and he sits up a little straighter on the couch. 
“Can we?” He asks. 
You push off the couch, getting to your feet in answer, and offer out your hand. “C’mon then.” 
Bucky grins with childlike excitement and takes your hand, leading the way to the kitchen with hurried footsteps that have you stumbling behind him. He releases your hand and ducks into your pantry, returning a second later with the box in his hands. 
“Someone’s eager,” you comment in a teasing tone, beaming adoringly at him. Bucky rolls his eyes with a grin and points towards the drawers. 
“Mixing bowls and spoons please, doll.” 
Following orders, you duck down and pull out all the baking equipment needed, and pop it onto the bench. Pulling out your phone from your back pocket, you select a 70s playlist and bob your head as Marvin Gaye’s Got to Give it Up begins to flow from your speakers. 
Bucky does a little shuffle that you think is supposed to be dancing and you giggle, rejoining at his side as the two of you begin to bake. 
It’s not very precise; Bucky’s spilled half the flour mix on the bench and you’re trying to stop laughing enough to fish out the eggshells you dropped into the bowl. You feel light, almost like you could float with how happy you feel right now. 
“Oh, this is funny to you, is it?” He says, still trying to scoop up the flour mix and tossing what he can in the bowl. You don’t get a chance to retort when he blows a handful in your face and looks far too happy about it. Your face contorts into shock, eyes squeezed closed for a moment before you open them again.
“James Buchanan Barnes.” Your tone seems to make Bucky grin wider, his nose scrunching in that adorable way that only happens when he’s really happy. 
“The full name. I’m in trouble now.” He smirks, watching as you shake your head in an attempt to dust off the flour. 
You do your best to glare but Bucky manages to crack it within a few seconds and you dissolve into giggles instead. 
He steps closer, his hands coming up to your face as he begins to wipe away the flour that hadn’t come off your skin. His thumb swipes gently along your cheekbone and you lean into his hand instinctively. You’re almost scared to breathe, just wanting to stay in this moment. 
“Still beautiful, even covered in flour.” He murmurs quietly and you wonder if he knows he’s even said that aloud. Your chest seems to fill with pure light and you know without a doubt that the thundering in your heart is love. You love this — you love him. 
So, you tell him in a way you know he’ll understand — turning your face and placing a soft kiss on the palm of his hand. 
Bucky swears he nearly melts right there and before he can lose the nerve, he ducks in and presses his lips against yours. It’s short and sweet but it still has his heart beating out of his chest in nerves. It’s been goddamn over 70 years since he’s done this. 
But you’re there, and you’re kissing him back. 
He pulls back, still close enough that his breath mingles with yours, and watches as your eyes flutter open, lips curling up in the most beautiful smile. Between you is only love, lighting up both your faces, alighting every sense. 
After a moment you lean forward and nudge your nose against his and gingerly connect your lips again, hands traveling up to rest on the sides of his face. 
This kiss is more assured, less nervous this time and Bucky swears he’s never been this lucky in his life. To be here, to be kissing you in your kitchen, chocolate chips scattered across the counter because you both wanted a trip down memory lane to when you first met. It’s almost comical how it comes around in a full circle. 
The song in the background switches, Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On opening notes interrupting your tender moment. You can’t help yourself as you break the kiss, tipping your head back as you laugh loudly and Bucky has never seen something more beautiful.
“I swear that wasn’t planned.” you gasp out between your laughter and Bucky looks amused, like he only half believes you. His hands drop from your face to your waist and he tugs you closer, lips meeting your hairline. 
“Cookies now?” He asks and you smile, content, with a nod. 
“Yeah, we can make cookies now Buck.”
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