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a-strange-echo · 7 months

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Flufftober day 7: "Porch swing"

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Just a nice evening with your husband Steve Rogers and his best friend.

Word count: 612

Warning: Bucky's cooking skills (he was distracted by the sight of his best friend ('s romantic moment)), none just fluff

Author's note: This one is very late I am sorry, i really haven't been feeling like writing for a while but it's coming back so i will post every day I missed soon. Also, day 6 migt come very late, I can't find the motivation to write this one, I don't know why. English is not my first langage and it's still not beta read, sorry for any mistake, please notify me if there is any.

Author's feelings: I really like this one, I hope you do too.

Everything was fine now. The war against Thanos ended. Steve volunteered to bring the stones back in their timelines and although you and Bucky were a little scared Steve would stay with Peggy in 1939, he came back. With Natasha. Everything was nice, Tony is alive (thanks to a last utilization of the stones), Natasha came back when Steve brought the Soul Stone back on Vormir, and Steve had his dance with Peggy, like they promised each other back in the days. And the first thing he did after bequeathing his shield to Sam was to finally marry you and buy this house on the countryside he had always wanted. It was a pretty big house, a cottage not far away from the city but far enough he didn’t feel as if he would have to jump into battle at any given moment. The stone walls of the house were perfect to isolate from the cold of the winter but kept the inside fresh in summer. It also had a big backyard to plant some flowers and other plants. But what Steve preferred about the house was its wooden front porch with the swing he hung there. He liked to sit here during cool evenings, watching the stars or just enjoying the calm of his new life.

Tonight was especially perfect. Bucky was visiting and you were more than happy to have him over for a few days. He was helping you cook dinner in the kitchen when you saw Steve sitting on the porch swing. You asked Bucky if he would be alright finishing to cut the vegetables on his own. At first he was confused by the sudden question, cooking together had always been your thing, but when he saw you glance at Steve outside, he smiled and shooed you away. You took a plaid that was laying on the couch after washing your hands of the remaining tomato juice and smell and joined Steve outside.

You tried to sneak up on him even if you knew he had heard you as soon as you opened the door. You were only a few feet away from him when you saw his tender smiled and soft eyes. You decided against your original plan to dump the blanket on his head and instead walked around the swing and sat beside him, draping the plaid over your legs. Steve smiled and took you hand in his. Even after years of being together, it still made your heart flutter when this big, strong man was being so soft with you.

“-You look like an old man, sitting on the porch swing and watching the sunset.” You teased softly, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“-That’s because I am an old man.” he laughed.

“-True.”

You both giggled at that, stuck in your bubble, your own little world. After calming down, you leaned closer to him and put your head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand that was still holding yours. You watched as the sky shifted from blue to orange and from orange to pink. It was so pretty but if you asked Steve, he would respond that nothing was more beautiful than you. And you would disagree, and he would insist that it’s true and you would have a small, funny argument over it. But that didn’t happen today, he just placed a soft kiss to your temple and you knew what it meant: a silent ‘I love you’.

Everything was fine on the porch swing, just two lovers sharing a tender, romantic moment and the husband’s best friend behind them, not daring to interrupt their moment to tell them he burned the food.

#flufftober #flufftober2023 #fluff #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #non binary character #nonbinary #fic #fanfiction #bucky barnes

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toi-monogatari · 7 months

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I have a sona now

And what is a better way to introduce myself than to ship myself with my favourite cat.

So yes, I go by Bucky. And my sona is Bucky the Buck. On my blog Crown Bearers Of The New Faith, I'll probably announce things using my sona so not to confuse you too much.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb fanart #narinder #hes my favourite #and ill wife the hell out of him #always and for ever #come here wife.#yes i am non binary #and i call myself bucky #so please respect it #or the goat will ram ur head /j

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dervampireprince · 2 years

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ASMR | Marvel - Loki Sneaks You Away to Rest [M4A] [Sleep aid] [Romantic]

[M4A/GF4A] [Sleep aid] [Romantic] [Established relationship] [Whispering] [Comfort] [De-Stress]

Loki's back babiess! Still keeping uploads going despite everything that's happening, thank you to everyone who's sent well wishes to me and my family on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord, it really means a lot and makes me feel less alone.

Custom audio commissions are open! Full spicy audios on soundgasm and Patreon. Downloadable versions, exclusive spicy audios and Discord on Patreon. I also stream on Twitch 3 times a week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit my audios and videos]

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peacefulofskye · 2 years

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I didn’t know that I needed Clint/Bucky, but now that I’ve found it, it’s become my new favorite ship. Especially when they’re a-spec & not cis.

I need more fics of this asap, so if anyone has any rec’s lmk.

#clint barton #bucky barnes #winterhawk #comic!clint #mcu!bucky #they’re snipers #and disasters #aspec headcanons #Clint Barton is aromantic #queer Bucky Barnes #non-binary Bucky Barnes #i love these two #trans clint barton #bucky barnes fic #fic recs #clint barton fic

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liuwithheadcanons · 1 year

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Non binary Bucky Barnes in all my Marvel AUs because I self project into him and is like “is okay being perceived as birth sex but also is disconnected to it” but trying to write down these feelings in writing so so HARD cause it’s so complicated in my head 😭

Bucky’s gender in my head is like mine for real except I’m a non binary (woman) instead of a man

#liu talks #Bucky Barnes is non binary fight me #James “Bucky” Barnes #my gender feelings in a nutshell: nonbinary - bigender - genderfluid - girlflux - demi girl and Genderfaunet #self projection #im Pomogender but call myself non binary cause it’s easier #nonbinary bucky barnes

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stripe-conlon · 2 years

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The number of people who called me miss, ma’am, “nice lady”, and used she/her pronouns for me while I’m standing there with two they/them pins on at pride yesterday did not pass the vibe check.

#pride #enby #non binary #pride 2022 #I call my haircut the marvel long hair male standard #because Bucky foggy and XMCU Pietro all have the same hair cut #and I love that hair cut #so i adopted it myself

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etherealspacejelly · 16 days

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The Lonely Warrior - Prologue

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Characters:

Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes, Loki (Marvel), Nick Fury, Original Characters, Original Child Character(s), Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Non-Binary Character, Light Elf Characters (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel)

Additional Tags:

Avengers Family, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Avengers Tower, Avengers Compound, Original Character Death(s), Adoption, the avengers adopt a kid

Summary:

Einar is the last of their kind, the Light Elves. They fought to protect the universe and won, but lost everything in the process: their family, their purpose, their entire species. Just a child with nowhere else to go, they are taken in by the Avengers, recruited by Director Fury to use their unique skills and abilities to help protect the Earth in exchange for a place to stay.

Basically, the Avengers accidentally adopt an orphaned alien child with superpowers.

TW for parent death, child abuse, and panic attacks. Please lmk if there's anything else I need to add to this list!

Tag list: (let me know if you would like to be added or removed!)

@fraudfrogz @wiggles-mcgee @nothoughtsgayboy @dobry-slimak @biblically-accurate-chaos @frogofalltime @emilytheghostwitch @shortergaything @cipherdragon

#fanfic #fanfiction #space jelly writes #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel fanfiction #found family #avengers oc

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a-strange-echo · 7 months

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Flufftober day4: "Cinderella moment"

Pairing: Pre-serum!Steve Rogers x gn! Reader

Summary: When working on fixing a boat on a hot day, Steve can't help but compare himself to Bucky again. Luckily, Y/N is there to remind him what really matters.

Word count: 555

Warnings: self-estime issues, self-worth, other than that, none, pure fluff

Author's note: finally up to date! WOO!

Author's feelings: wasn't too sure about it at first (at think you can tell by reading it) but I'm really glad with the end and the way it turned out!

Y/N, Steve and Bucky had been friends since childhood, there wasn’t a moment when one wasn’t with the other. Even when they would fight (which was rare) it wouldn’t last long. They were best friends and will always be, no matter what happens. Bucky knew of Steve’s feelings for Y/N and would often tease him about it, although never in front of them. Bucky felt something changed in the group dynamic when they were around 19 but he was fine with it, he could manage Steve constantly gushing over Y/N when in private. He would much rather deal with a head over heels Steve that with a crying, heartbroken Steve.

“-Are you sure you guys don’t want to take a break?” Y/N asked from their sitting spot on the dock.

“-Yes, we will be over soon.” Bucky yelled from the other side of the boat.

Both he and Steve got hired by a nice old man from the dock who asked for help to fix his boat. The boys and Y/N agreed, but it was very hot today and Y/N opted to take a break and drink a nice chill glass of water while the men continued to work but with now their shirt off. Sometimes, a few young ladies and gentlemen walking by would stop to admire and talk with Bucky but it wasn’t who Y/N got their eyes on.

“-Oi, stop mashing! Poor Stevie is doing all the work!” Y/N called for Bucky. “Although I’m not complaining for I have a very good view…” they said having, indeed, a nice view of Steve’s frail back and butt. “He looks like he could use some help.”

Nobody could see it but Steve blushed like crazy from the comment. What Y/N saw however was the nasty look one of the men sent their way after assessing Steve. Their only response to that was to glare harder and appear meaner to scare the guy and to show Steve was well protected.

“-Then why don’t you help him?” Bucky asked, not really annoyed by the interruption.

“-I’m not strong enough.”

“-Y/N, I don’t need help.” Steve intervened.

“-Stevie, not to offense you, but you look like you are going to pass out. Take a break.” their voice was immediately softer when addressing to him.

Steve sighed but complied, putting the tools down and walking toward the dock, starting to feel dizzy. Y/N patted the empty spot next to them for him to sit and he did. He grabbed a coke that the old man gave them from the cooler next to him, trying to cool down. The two watched the scenery. It wasn’t the prettiest by all means but in this instant, they were the only existing on this dock. The sun was soon going to set and the distant chatting of Bucky and other passers-by were a nice change in pace compared to the buzzing of the city.

“-Do you think I could be like him one day?” Steve asked and Y/N didn’t have to look at him to know he was referring to Bucky.

“-Why should you be like him when you are already so much more?” They asked back. When he didn’t respond and only looked down, blushing, Y/N put their head on his bony shoulder. “Besides, I’ve always preferred smaller men.”

#skinny!Steve Rogers x reader #pre serum steve x reader #pre-serum steve #nonbinary #non binary character #flufftober2023 #fluff #flufftober #queer Steve Rogers #bisexual #bisexual steve rogers #pansexual bucky barnes #pansexual #lgbt writers #lgbt #lgbtq

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prpfs · 6 months

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Happy Halloween everyone! (a little early or late depending on when this goes out.) My name is Alexx, and I'm looking for (mostly) canon M/M pairings in a variety of fandoms. As far as dead dove/problematic topics go, some things cover the gambit of Incest, Non/Dub con, Omegaverse, Mpreg, and age gap situations. There are probably others (I have a stalker idea that comes to mind) but those cover the broad range of it. I don't really double as a rule, though I have been known to do poly ships and threesome pairings. All RPing will be done over Discord though. Also, I play a variety of trans-masc and non-binary characters/verses, so trans-inclusion is important. Smut will play a large role in any RP we do, so please be aware of that. I like plot too, but there are some times where I just wanna have cute boys do filthy things to each other. ♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥♥♡❦❥ Here is my full list of characters and fandoms I play in. However, below I'll list a few I'm currently craving. Characters I want to play will be bolded. If there aren't any bolds then I am open to playing any of the listed pairings.

Supernatural - Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester (gotta love Wincest) The Magicians - Eliot Waugh/Quentin Coldwater (I also have an OC i’d love to use in this verse) The Sandman - Dream/Hob (I’d prefer to play Dream but I can play either)

Teen Wolf - Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Peter Hale/Derek Hale, (lots more really) - Anything with Slutty Bottom Derek is good in my book. DC Comics / DCU - Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Clark Kent, etc - Really looking for Batfamily plots here. Got a few ideas involving playing Clark Kent as well. (poly plots welcomed)

Stranger Things - Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve/Billy/Eddie

BBC Merlin - Merlin/Arthur (I would also be open to some Merlin/Arthur/Gwaine or Merlin/Knights action)

Other Characters I am looking for in regard to crossovers/other plots - Lestat De Lioncourt, Spike (Buffy), Elijah Mikaelson, Damon Salvatore, Luke Crain (Haunting of Hill House), Eliot Spencer (Leverage), Oliver Queen (DC), Bucky Barnes (For Steve/Bucky), Eric Northman, Takeshi Kovacs, Neal Caffrey - Feel free to message me or like this post for plotting/connecting purposes.

DM @aiden-phenix-rper-at-law if interested!

And/Or

Leave a like, and the asker will get back to you!

#supernatural roleplay #supernatural rp #the magicians roleplay #the magicians rp #the sandman roleplay #the sandman rp #teen wolf roleplay #teen wolf rp #dc roleplay #dc rp #stranger things roleplay #stranger things rp #bbc merlin roleplay #bbc merlin rp #fandom roleplay #fandom rp #cc x cc #m/m #dead dove

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workingdownthewordmine · 9 days

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Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter 3 Unbidden Guest

Bucky's uninvited housemate makes themself known.

Read this chapter on AO3 here.

Chapter 2

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Nonbinary OC, Steve Rogers Rating: T CW: Violence, choking, threatening with a gun, bleeding, hearing voices, hearing the voice of an abuser, references to murder, torture, suicide, violence, sexual assault Prompts filled: Fandom Free Bingo Frosty Edition: Stay a while @fandom-free-bingo Fluffbruary: Day 26: Care package, Day 28: Shelter @fluffbruary Winter Wonderland: Covering the other with a blanket @seasonaldelightsbingo Any Fandom Angst: Held at gunpoint @anyfandomangstbingo LGBTQ+: Non-binary!Character @lgbtqbingo

Dividers by @unfortunate-beetle-and-friends

“Don’t ask the name of anyone that asks you for shelter.” Victor Hugo

It had been some time since Bucky had wished so fiercely that he could just stop waking up, stop coming back to a reality that became more of a nightmare each time. Before he opened his eyes he pleaded with the darkness to tighten again, to choke him back out of the world. A little longer, even if it couldn’t be forever, even if it could only be moments more before he had to open his eyes to-

A wet cloth on his skin, stroked down his cheek. For a handful of heartbeats, misery gave way to something almost like contentment. Complacency. Deadly. The horror burst through and propelled him into a rush of movement. He couldn’t go back. They wouldn’t take him back.

The body crouched over him was only a dark blur, hurled across the room and into a wall. It crumpled and he was upon it. His charge was clumsy but he didn’t need precision. His hand was around a throat. He’d need hardly a flick of a Vibranium wrist to snap their neck. The figure was smaller than him, pinned in his shadow, starting to tremble with the need for air. He had secured their arms beneath his knees without thinking about it, his shin across their legs to prevent them from kicking him. He was doing better. All that was left was the kill… It would be instant, almost entirely painless. He would not fail this time.

He froze. They weren’t struggling. They weren’t fighting him at all. There had been no raised alarm. No other movement in the room except the two of them. Bucky struggled to focus through blinding panic and burning eyes. He loosened his grip just enough to allow them a breath, and pushed the muzzle of his pistol beneath their chin. “Why shouldn’t I kill you right now?”

They looked up at him without terror, as though the ease with which he could end their life concerned them little. “Look at your hand.” Reluctantly, he allowed his eyes to flicker downwards – perhaps because the words had been more of a plea than a demand or a threat, or perhaps because defying the voice telling him to do what he was made for and kill was taking too much of his concentration. Even in the gloom, he could see the wet shine, and the scent of blood rose thickly from it. He’d felt no pain at all. “There’s no wound. It’ll stop in a few seconds. I – I could have put the bleed in your neck, or your brain. I didn’t. Please. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to hurt you.” He stiffened. Their eyes widened and they spoke more quickly. “If I’d meant you any harm, I could have done something about it either of the times I’ve found you unconscious today. Right? I have no reason to hurt y-“ His hand pressed down again, choking off their words.

“Reckon I can squeeze a trigger faster than you can do your little magic trick.”

“Maybe.” They could do little more than shape the words but just enough of a hiss escaped for him to follow. “Don’t want to bet my life on it. Seen-” They shuddered, desperately sucking in a scrap of air. “Seen how fast you are.”

He growled and shook them by the throat. They pinched their eyes shut as if they expected death to follow. If they’d also started his brain bleeding, he couldn’t tell. “You’ve been spying on me. Sneaking round in my building. Now you’re fucking with me in my apartment. Why?” He shook them again. Their skull thudded heavily on the floor, long black hair escaping their ponytail. “Why? Tell me why I shouldn’t fucking kill you? You don’t want to hurt me? Then what do you want?”

They tried to reply but could only gurgle. He eased off their throat. “Help. Need help.” His hand lifted a little more, answering a deeper impulse than thought. With an effort, he overpowered the voice in his mind long enough to listen. Their eyes searched his as though watching the struggle. His hand tensed on their neck.

“Talk. Fast.”

They swallowed. He felt the fragile movement through his palm. “Shelter. Please. I don’t want to kill you. And,” Their dark eyes tracked his face again. “I may not be an expert on trained assassins but I don’t think you want to kill me either.” Had he imagined the emphasis? Had it been unintentional? Their voice was trembling. Short on breath, laden with pain. He couldn’t be sure.

“Someone wants you dead though. And personally, right? In more than the ‘all mutants are dangerous monsters’ way.”

“A lot of people. That’s why I need somewhere safe. I thought – I mean, you seemed like someone who’d be sympathetic.”

His lip pulled back in a snarl. “Because I’m a dangerous monster too?”

They didn’t flinch as they met his eyes. “Pretty much. You know what it’s like. Not to want to be someone else’s weapon. To not trust the good guys much more than the bad guys. Right?”

The adrenaline was wearing off. His head was starting to swim again. He should finish them fast, then he could sleep. Alone and safe. “So which do you think you are? A good guy or a bad guy?”

“Just a guy. I’m not much of a team player.” He felt a tremor as though they had tried to laugh. They swallowed again. He knew his face hadn’t given anything away, so they must have realised for themselves that apparent amusement was doing them no favours. “Look, there’s no one outside this room who has my back, or who I report to, or – I hope – who has any idea where I am. I just need somewhere to stay, where I can keep my head down.”

It was a terrible decision, really, not to kill them. He would be safer with them gone. He’d have his solitude back. This was his home. Perhaps he could have handled sharing it with Steve if he’d wanted to leave the compound, but not any random stranger who fancied moving in – especially not here, in his apartment.

“What were you doing in here?” The pistol pressed harder under their chin, forcing their head back a little more.

“I was worried about you. I heard you screaming earlier, and I found you in the basement all bashed up. I wanted to bring you back up here but I could only manage one flight of stairs. Vibranium’s heavy, I guess. Didn’t really know how I’d get you past the traps either – I unfastened some of trip wires but it seemed pretty obvious there’d be more inside. Didn't fancy killing either of us. I came to check on you later and you weren’t where I’d left you – figured you’d got back up here by yourself. I was going to just leave you to it but when I passed by the door there were weird noises. I knocked. You didn’t answer and the noises got weirder so I looked for another way in that you hadn’t rigged to blow up or eviscerate visitors.” Their eyes flicked towards the open closet, the one he’d been trying to block back up. “You were passed out again. You were breathing like shit and your skin and eyes were all red. I was worried.”

They tried to shrug. Their own breathing wasn’t so hot either. He eased off their throat just a little more. Their words had brought his discomfort into much clearer focus. Now he couldn’t help but notice how his breath was whistling and every inch of exposed flesh felt like it had been splashed with acid.

“You got down to the basement through there, right?” Another glance at the closet. “Not surprised you feel like shit. Insulation’s made of fibreglass. Not stuff you want to handle, much less breathe.” They frowned up at him. He could almost have believed they actually were as concerned for his welfare as for the ease with which he could end their life right now. Probably an ability to make someone bleed into their own brain with a thought was quite a confidence boost. If they could really do any such thing. What evidence did he have? His hand? Could have cut it on something and just not noticed. A quick enough thinker could take advantage of that, sure. After being thrown half way across the room and slammed into the floor. With a gun pressed to their head. Probably. And he had to concede that anyone who could do shit like that would definitely be a sought-after commodity for the worst people. Someone like that was definitely not the kind of unknown factor he wanted hanging around, right?

When was the last time anyone had sought him out to ask for help?

“Sit up. Slowly.” He released them and shifted away, gun still readied.

They waited until he’d made some space between them before awkwardly levering themselves upright and raising both hands level with their shoulders in surrender. “I, uh, I’m not armed. I mean, not in any way you can confiscate without decapitating me, which I’d really rather you didn’t. But I guess, if searching me makes you feel any better about letting me stick around, you can…”

Bucky looked them over. The baggy hoodie, the same that had been used for a pillow earlier, and cargoes could have hidden any number of weapons, but they’d made a decent point – if they’d been planning to kill him it was a risk and a waste of time waiting until now. He shook his head. “Just don’t make me regret my trusting and forgiving nature.” They offered a casual salute and even a small grin. “What time is it?”

A shrug. “Don’t know, but probably after ten. Here. Drink. Pretty sure your throat’s still full of glass fibres.” They reached into a cardboard box beside them surrounded by a few scraps of rope and tossed a bottle over to him, then rolled their eyes dramatically when he didn’t reach for it. “Not that convinced I’m not trying to kill you, then? Here.” They grabbed another bottle, cracked the top, and took a long swig. He watched their throat working and found himself recalling that movement under his hand. They recapped the bottle and offered it to him. “Monkey see, monkey do.”

The smirk was infuriating but he found his lip curling in return as he took the bottle. “Don’t push it.” He drank, and kept drinking. The cool water was unbelievably soothing to his sore throat. He drained the bottle and grabbed the first one, downing half of it before freezing with it still at his lips.

“Relax, okay?” His eyes darted to their face, startled to find a sympathetic frown. “I promise, it’s as wholesome as water stolen from struggling communities by billionaires can be.” His narrowed eyes received a shrug. “What? Wouldn’t be fair to lie to you.” He grunted and finished the bottle.

“You’re really weird, you know that?”

“Mutants tend to be.”

Bucky sat and watched, rolling the empty bottle between his palms, while his… intruder? Visitor? Neighbour? Pulled over the box and rummaged inside it, ignoring or not seeing the way he tensed.

“What’s that?”

“Huh?” They glanced up, blinking. Was it possible that they’d actually forgotten he was there in the last twenty seconds? It sure seemed like it. He nodded at the box. “Oh, just kind of a care package I put together. Meant to leave it outside your door but then you sounded like you were dying so I figured a get well card and a blanket might not do the trick. ‘S not much. Food, meds such as I could find, blanket – but you’ve got that already. Getting it down that climb with my face covered to keep the fibres out was hard enough without packing it any heavier, but there’s some more stuff over in the other apartment.”

He looked over at where he’d been lying, and stared in surprise. They were still in his hallway where he had passed out. He remembered dimly the pounding at the door, amplified by fear and disorientation, which must have been their knocking. His sleeping bag hadn’t been here then. Nor had his pillow or the unfamiliar sleeping bag stacked underneath his own. And there was the blanket, lying where he must have thrown it off when he woke up… and attacked them, he reminded himself with an internal wince.

“You did all that?”

“Yeah. Would have put you in your bedroom, but ran into that whole ‘Vibranium is heavy’ issue again so I made you a bed out here instead. Won’t be offended if you want to move back. You can borrow my sleeping bag. Oh, and I redid the bandage on your arm but the bleeding had stopped already, even where you scratched it up. You knocked a few chunks out of yourself. I cleaned the wounds and tied them up. Some of them looked like they could use stitches but I’m thinking you don’t really bother with those and I don’t know how to do them. I could probably figure it out with a video tutorial though if, y’know, you want me to try.” They kept talking as they looked through the box, peering at things as though it had been so long since they’d seen them that they were almost unrecognisable. It was a curious sight. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be able to cook in here so most of this is about as edible cold…” They were chattering away as if he hadn’t been holding a gun to their head a minute earlier. The effect was almost soothing. Where was that accent from? Not pure American as far as he could tell. Maybe British with some American or Canadian layered on top? There was something else too – something that spoke to his memories of warmth and spiced air. He was only half taking in the words and it was his turn to realise late that he’d been spoken to.

“Uh… huh?”

They grinned. “Sandwiches. Just cheese. Nothing fancy. I don’t do cooking. Probably a good idea to eat something. Might cushion the little spiky glass bits.” They shrugged. “My mother always freaked out about me going anywhere near our fibreglass insulation. I always figured she was overreacting but you look like shit so maybe not.”

“You go all out with the compliments, don’t you?” He bit into a cheese sandwich. They were right – it was nothing fancy, but it was food and it started to help with his painful, feverish exhaustion at once.

“Pretty much,” they admitted with a shrug.

Bucky was about to reply when a fresh storm of coughs overtook him, filling the air with crumbs. They leant back out of the way, lowering their own sandwich, apparently no longer so keen on it.

“That’ll probably happen for a while. You got a pretty good lungful, I guess.”

“’M not supposed to get sick,” he growled.

“You’re not technically-”

“Or injured.”

“Unless whatever they did to you gave you lungs that can dissolve glass, I doubt being a super soldier’s gonna help much with this. Might even be worse. If you can’t get sick, I’m thinking it’s because your body attacks anything that invades it particularly quickly and effectively, so it’s probably throwing a fit about a billion little fibres getting where they shouldn’t and I’m probably not really helping, am I?”

“Your bedside manner really sucks,” he grumbled. The complaint was half-hearted, though. Something had happened to their expression while they were spinning their theory. The gentle coffee-dark eyes had sharpened. The detached enthusiasm had become… uncomfortable. He’d seen too many expressions like that before, usually smiling above him while he was strapped to a table, full of glee over their latest pages of results. His fist curled and he touched his pistol. The movement attracted no attention at all. They’d found a scrap of ancient wallpaper –but still not ancient enough for him to remember it – and started picking at it as though its presence offended them, nails digging fretfully under its edges.

“Planning on building a nest with that?”

They froze and looked vacant for a second. He got the impression they were replaying the last few seconds to work out what he was talking about. In spite of the way his previous observation had jacked up his heart rate, it was a challenge to be afraid of someone who seemed to have so much difficulty just keeping track of existence from one minute to the next. And they’d brought him food and a blanket, he reminded himself. His lips softened into a small smile.

“Uh, sorry, hope that wasn’t sentimental.” They licked a fingertip and attempted to damp the paper back down. “There was a texture.” The explanation ended there.

“A… texture?”

Their eyebrows rose as though his puzzlement was incomprehensible. “Things that should be smooth shouldn’t have textures.” They said it the way someone else might say “tumours”. They gave a little shrug and didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s harder to ignore – tolerate – them when I’m nervous. Really weird, like you said.” He thought he saw a tiny wince. “Sorry, I’ll go back to the other apartment. You should be resting, not suffering through a lecture on the ways my brain is wrong.”

They started to dust themself off and get up. This time the wince was unmistakable. They tried to disguise the awkward movement with a stretch but his eyes tracked the tenderness in their shoulder with ease. He recalled the sound of them colliding with the wall when he’d thrown them off and his stomach churned with a momentary surge of guilt.

“There are painkillers in the box. Oh, and antihistamine cream. If your skin’s too uncomfortable to sleep, it might… And try to rinse your skin again in the morning. Just keep washing the fibres off. Not sure what to do for the lungs but hopefully that’ll be better tomorrow too. If you need anything, I’ll be across the hall.” They offered an awkward smile and took a step towards the door.

“Wait.” He was surprised to hear the word come from his mouth. “Not sure I want you getting up to fuck knows what out of sight over there.” His grin turned out as awkward as their exit. “You can stay. Here.” He cut off their attempted protest. “I’d like you to stay. Y’know, tonight, at least.”

He started to set his gun down, then went to the window to scan the street. The streetlights were on now. The only passers-by seemed natural and uninterested enough. “Just how sure are you that no one’s going to come looking for you here?” He put his back to the window and tried to resist the urge to look again.

“Well, I guess I can’t be a hundred percent certain but I think if they had any idea where I am they’d have come for me before now.” They curled tighter into the corner and Bucky almost laughed when he saw them shoot the window a glance almost identical to his own.

In the moment of strange kinship, he was moved to voice something he’d been wondering about. “You know who I am. You didn’t just stumble onto a guy with a potential safe house.”

They paused, and shrugged. “Well, no, I was looking for you. Got pretty lucky finding you though. Not a lot of guys with metal arms around but there are a lot of people in this city. Then I found you and had to watch for a while to make sure my instincts were right about you. That you’d understand why I needed somewhere to go. That makes me sound like a total stalker… It’s not a weird creepy obsession or anything. I just… heard about you, y’know, and-”

“So you know who I am, the things I’ve done, and you still decided to throw yourself on my mercy?”

He’d expected them to fidget uncomfortably, maybe refuse to meet his eyes. In fact, their gaze locked onto his like a magnet.

“Someone who looked a lot like you did those things. Not you.”

He stiffened. “It was me. A… part of me.” He’d never admitted that, even to Stevie. Why was he doing it now? He wished he could bite the words back, but they seemed unfazed by his confession or his regret.

“Was that part of you given a choice?”

The words stuck on his tongue, tangled in themselves. “We… I could have died myself. Rather than hurt anyone else. Most people would say I should have done.”

Their snort chilled him and he narrowed his eyes. They were just as unmoved by the increased hostility. “Most people don’t choose to die. Not when they’re actually confronted with the choice. So “most people” can take a running jump with their opinions about what any of you should have done. They don’t know what they’re fucking talking about.” He spotted that their hand was knotted into their hoodie so tight that their knuckles showed up pale in the dim light. “And for my part, I doubt it was even an option. Unless you can honestly tell me Hydra didn’t make really damn sure they fucked up your head before they gave you the kind of freedom it takes to kill yourself.”

Bucky could only stare as the words went through him like a laser, leaving a searing path behind them. Something was ready to take advantage of the quiet. It crawled into the ringing silence in his head.

You’d just love to believe that, wouldn’t you, little boy? “Boohoo, poor me. The mean nasty men hurt my feelings and that’s why I tortured and raped and murdered all those people.” It’s a fairy tale, little boy. A pretty lie to manipulate you into letting them stay. We chose you for a reason, asset. We saw the monster in you and leashed it. We didn’t make the monster.

“James?” The name came as such a surprise that it momentarily shocked him out of the guilty hell he’d been descending into. “James… you okay?”

“Don’t.” He gradually got his words back under control and the hysterical note out of his voice. “I – don’t. Don’t call me that.” He forced something like a smile. “I only get ‘James’ when I’m in trouble. I guess you can call me Bucky.”

They nodded, their own smile much more genuine than he had managed. “Bucky, then.” He was fascinated by their ability to look at him so calmly, with no detectable fear or contempt, yet he found himself still wanting to escape their gaze. He felt too seen by those eyes. Like they understood even more than they’d described with such stark and cutting accuracy. He backed up and turned away from them, crouching to straighten his bedding.

“Guess we do have some stuff in common, after all… You know, don’t you?”

“I don’t. Not what they did to you. But I know something about the lengths people like that will go to, to design the sort of operatives they need. And after they put in all that time and effort, they don’t get careless enough to let valuable assets kill themselves.”

The word caused bile to rise in his throat and he whipped around. Could they know? Could they hear? But they’d turned back to their corner, rearranging their blanket and trying to make themself comfortable.

“You can take your sleeping bag back. I’ll be fine with my own.” They waved him off.

“Hang onto it tonight. It’ll help with my guilt. It’s my fault you got all paranoid and trap-happy.” He watched them lean their head on the wall.

He wanted to tell them to at least take the pillow or something, but he had a premonition of how much good that would do. He stood, thinking, for a moment. Then he scooped up the blanket and threw it over them. He crouched to tuck it in, meeting their look of protest with immovable steadiness. And somehow he found himself looking into soft brown eyes a little too long.

“Night,” he muttered, retreating.

No, the voice growled as he contemplated the stacked sleeping bags. Soft. Weak. He glanced back into the corner. Their eyes were closed but they had no talent for faking the rhythmic breath of true sleep. He toed off his boots and climbed into his bag. It was difficult to see them through the shadows but he heard their breathing resume a more natural tempo. When had he last shared his sleeping space voluntarily? He was tempted to think it had been more than eighty years ago, before he’d shipped out. Back when he’d imagined he’d have some control over the course of his life.

And what would you have made of your life on your own? Another groupie for the star-spangled government lapdog? I made you so much more. And this is how you show your gratitude.

The yawning darkness at Bucky’s back reached out for him. Its fingers caressed his spine. He felt himself shaking, his throat closing…

“Hey, Bucky?” The invisible fingers retracted a little way into the dark.

“What?”

“Thanks. For letting me stay.”

How sweet that your new little friend thinks they’re any safer in a room with you than literally anywhere else. Even after your opening pleasantries featured you practically crushing their throat. You must have seen the bruises. I can hear them struggling to breathe from here.

“Y’welcome.” It wasn’t much but for just a moment it interrupted the voice; he searched for more words, desperate to keep it at bay, and to stop himself straining at the quiet to measure their breathing. His eyes locked onto the vague shape on the other side of the hall. “I never asked your name.”

A moment’s thoughtful quiet then a shuffling of blanket. He caught a glint of streetlight reflected in their eyes as they turned their face towards him. “Hive. Call me Hive.”

Note: Our Hive has nothing to do with the Hive who appears in Agents of SHIELD, just a coincidence that they ended up with the same name.

Thanks for reading! Every like and reblog is appreciated and treasured. Feed my need for external validation!

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

Text

Metamorphosis | Bucky Barnes x Reader

H, friends! I was working on this fic and then got a message from @the-kestrels-feather asking for almost this exact story??? Tbh our brains are linked. They requested a non-binary reader, which I’ve never written before! So I’m a little nervous, but I did my best. :)

If you like my writing do me a favor and throw me a reblog 🥰

Warnings: Bucky’s trauma, anxiety, PTSD

———————

Now

Bucky’s head lay heavy on your chest, his mind finally quieting enough to let him fall asleep. His calm, rhythmic breathing brought a smile to your face as you gently tangled your fingers through his long locks. Knowing Bucky was getting the rest he needed always made you happier, made you worry just a little bit less.

The close friendship you’d developed with him was unexpected to say the least. You thought back on how everyone warned you about Bucky when you when you joined the team and moved into the compound. They said he was quiet, cold, aloof- and you’d prepared for him to ignore you completely. But he surprised you.

Things between the two of you started cautiously. You treated Bucky like a skittish stray cat, waiting for him to come to you at his own pace- and if he never came around, you’d understand.

But when he found you in the compound’s kitchen baking cookies in the middle of the night, he couldn’t stop himself from being drawn in by your gentleness.

-----One Year Ago-----

“Can’t sleep?”

Bucky’s deep voice startled you, forcing your heartrate into overdrive. He noticed the way you jumped and the wide eyes that betrayed your fear. He wasn’t sure if you simply didn’t expect company at 3am, or if you were afraid of who he used to be.

“Oh, sorry. I- I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just…” Bucky made his way to the cupboard and retrieved his favorite tea, “want a cup?”

With a simple nod, you accepted Bucky’s offer.

“I know this probably looks strange”, you motioned to the massive bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough resting on the counter and the mess that surrounded it, “but I’m not like, a weirdo or anything. I don’t always make cookies in the middle of the night”. Bucky gave you a simple nod, unsure of what to say.

“It’s just- I bake when I’m stressed. And I’m not used to living here yet…I kinda feel like a fish out of water, you know?” Bucky was all too familiar with the feeling of not fitting in, and still felt like an outsider after years of working with the team. “My anxiety won’t let me fall asleep, so...here I am,” you grabbed a fresh cookie from the cooling rack and extended it to Bucky, “wanna try one?”

He eyed the treat for a long moment before finally accepting. A smile instantly spread across his face as he chewed, and he couldn’t stop himself from shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth. “These are really good”, he said with his mouth full, “thank you”.

Without hesitation, you grabbed the cooling rack and extended it to him, “have as many as you want, Sergeant Barnes. Er, James…? Bucky?” Embarrassment colored your cheeks a bright scarlet, “I’m sorry- I just realized that we haven’t spoken yet. I don’t know what to call you…”

Bucky let loose quiet laugh, “it’s alright. Um, Bucky. Bucky is fine”.

He extended his vibranium hand to give you a proper shake, but quickly withdrew and replaced it with his other one. An apologetic look filled his eyes and he looked away, embarrassed. He couldn't believe he'd slipped up so severely, offering you the one thing about him that scared almost everyone he knew.

Just then, the tea kettle began to sing, making both of you jump. Bucky quickly removed it from the heat and prepared his tea and yours, offering you the cup with a cautious smile.

An overwhelming need to remain in your presence tugged at him, but his trusty anxiety wanted nothing more than to make him scurry upstairs and hide from you. He opened his mouth to wish you goodnight before heading back to his room, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“Hey, wanna help me finish with these?” you offered him a cookie scoop and raised a brow at him, “it’ll be fun, I promise. And you can eat all the dough you want. Deal?”

He couldn’t believe how genuinely happy he was, how comfortable you made him feel. Spending this beautifully innocent moment together helped Bucky forget the night terror that had woken him not half an hour ago. And suddenly, he found himself opening up to you. It was only the tiny things- his birthday, where he grew up, his favorite book- but it was more than he’d told anyone in decades.

-----

After that night, you and Bucky slowly became inseparable. Something about you felt safe to him, felt like home. He was warmer around you, his sharp scowl melting into a tentative smile. He didn’t know how to describe it, but Bucky felt drawn to you. There was something about your warm smile and kind eyes that welcomed him in immediately, and he found himself desperate to spend time with you. He wanted to see with you whenever possible, and you returned the feeling tenfold.

Bucky had a quiet energy that set you at ease. While the world saw him as the cold, ruthless killer who’d carried out countless murders as the Winter Soldier, you saw him as the sweet, shy man who helped you make cookies at 3am. Bucky made you feel heard, made you feel seen. He quietly observed, picking up on tiny details that others would’ve missed. In seemingly no time at all, he’d identified all of your nervous habits, and knew exactly when to ask if you were okay.

And after Bucky knew for certain that he was safe with you, he opened up. He unlocked the vault in his mind that held every gory, gruesome detail of his time at Hydra and let you rifle through his memories. But you never pushed him. The two of you talked through his decades as the Winter Soldier at his pace, and when it grew to be too much, you were there to bring him back to the present. You had a way of grounding Bucky that made him feel more present than he had in years, saving him from the spirals and rabbit holes that often held him hostage.

It became glaringly obvious to you that Bucky had been suffering in silence ever since joining the team, opting to keep his pain to himself rather than trust someone with his secrets. But things were different with you. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to trust you, to let his guard down and be completely and utterly vulnerable.

After you took his hand the first time, Bucky realized just what he’d been missing out on. He hadn’t been aware of how desperately he needed human touch, how safe the affection of another person could make him feel.

It was this physical comfort that saved him from his nightmares night after night, bringing him peace he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. Before getting close with you, Bucky dealt with them alone. He’d eventually scream himself awake, his heart pounding in his chest while cold sweat dripped from his brow. You’d heard him every night since moving in, but only when you knew he felt safe enough with you did venture into his room.

-----Nine Months Ago-----

As they did every night, Bucky's tortured screams startled you awake. All you knew was that he needed help, and you weren’t going to let him go without it. Reflexively, you ran from your room and burst through his door, anxious to rescue Bucky from his demons.

His strong form thrashed beneath his sheets, cold sweat dampening his forehead. His screams were full of a tortured anguish you’d never experienced before, and the sound of his cries sent shivers down your spine. With a quick flip of a switch, you turned on the lamp by Bucky’s bedside, filling the room with a soft glow. Your gentle hands rested against his shoulders, adding only a tiny fraction of pressure as you called out to him.

“Bucky. Bucky, hey. Wake up. You’re okay-”.

Suddenly, Bucky’s eyes flew open. They were glassy with tears and wide with fear as he stared at you, unbridled alarm still coursing through his veins. His chest rose and fell at an increasingly fast rate, and he did his best to orient himself, but couldn’t seem to get his head on straight.

“Buck…” you reached for his hand slowly and took it in yours, grounding him in the present moment, “you’re okay- it’s me. You’re safe. It was just a nightmare.”

With that, Bucky slowly let his muscles relax. He stared down at his hand resting in yours, relishing in the sensation of your warmth. Just like that, he felt safe. He leaned forward until his forehead rested upon your shoulder, mumbling a quiet “thank you” as he tried to catch his breath.

“Want me to stay with you a while?”

Bucky nodded almost immediately.

“Then I’ll stay,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “I’ll sit here for as long as you need”.

But Bucky didn’t want you to just sit at his bedside. “Do you, uh…” he lifted the covers and invited you into his bed- something he hadn’t done since the 40’s. “Would it be better for you to lay down? It’s the middle of the night…I’m sure you’re tired”. You gave him a pointed look, silently asking if he was sure, and he delivered a confident nod.

With you under the sheets next to him, Bucky felt like he was home. But his demons still clawed at the corners of his mind, chipping away at the sense of peace you brought him. They thrashed and screamed behind the protective walls your presence built, desperate to break free and tear Bucky to shreds.

He wanted to ask you to hold him, to wrap your arms around him and keep him safe, but he never wanted to make you uncomfortable. He opted to simply hold your hand, squeezing it every few seconds to bring himself back to the present.

“Do you- Is there anything else I can do?” you looked over at Bucky and clocked his tense jaw, “If you just need a hand to hold, I’m more than happy to help. But…do you need, like, a hug? Do you want me to- to maybe hold you for a while? Or is that too much for you?” Relief flooded Bucky’s expression as you read his mind, “it’s not too much. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

With your arms spread wide, you welcomed Bucky into your embrace. His head lay nestled against your neck while your arms wrapped tightly around his broad shoulders, protecting him from the outside world. An almost imperceptible shaking rattled his entire body, the adrenaline still ravaging him from the inside. The shaking stopped, however, when your gentle words and soft touch guided Bucky back to a restful sleep.

-----

And so began the nightly routine. Every night you’d fall asleep in your room, only to be woken by Bucky’s screams. And just like that, you’d rush to his side and provide him with the comfort and safety he needed. The two of you would always fall asleep together after that, waking every morning tangled in each other’s embrace. You did your best to convince yourself that, if you went to bed in your room first, sleeping in Bucky’s bed for the second half of the night was completely innocent. But not even you believed that lie.

The two of you held great affection for each other, and no one had ever made you feel the way Bucky did- but you couldn’t tell him that. He was always overly grateful for everything you did for him, but he had no idea what he did for you every day. He was so kind, so empathetic, so understanding. He just wanted to be there for you, to make you smile when you were down. Bucky knew exactly how to make you laugh. And when you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there. His arms felt like home, like nothing could hurt you if he was holding you. He knew everything about you and accepted you for exactly who you were, just as you did for him.

But Bucky had a hard time understanding how you could actually be okay with his scars, both mental and physical. And so he opted to keep the physical scars under wraps. He never let you see the damage Hydra did to his body, never let you get even a glimpse of his abused form.

The first time you laid eyes on the reminders of his past, it was completely by accident. Bucky kicked himself for not being careful enough, not shielding you from his ‘disgusting’ deformations- but it only brough the two of you closer.

-----Six Months Ago-----

With your duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you stepped inside the quinjet and thanked the universe that your mission was finally over. But just as you entered the cabin, Bucky’s deep blue eyes met yours in a look of terror. He stood a few feet away, almost hidden in the back of the jet, his top half completely bare. His insecurities screamed at him, begged him to put his tactical vest back on and obscure the gruesome evidence of his past- but he couldn’t move.

He was completely and utterly frozen with shame, his scars on full display.

To Bucky, they were hideous. The raised, uneven skin that told the story of his time at Hydra disgusted him more each day. Evidence of bullet wounds and knives taken to the torso littered his upper half, illustrating just how hard his life was as the Winter Solider. Bucky’s eyes flicked down momentarily, eyeing the biggest scar of the bunch. It ran the entire expanse of his shoulder, tightly hugging the seam of his vibranium arm.

It was gnarly and jagged, knotted and deep.

Bucky watched you and waited for you to react with horror- maybe even gag- but you remained silent. Your eyes flicked slowly over his abdomen as you took in each and every mark that made Bucky who he was. And when your gaze finally landed on the long scar that fused flesh to metal, he cringed.

With cautious steps, you closed the gap between the two of you. Tension buzzed in the air as Bucky’s stomach tied itself in knots, and he was certain the anxiety of it all would make him throw up. He knew you were kind and understanding, but the proof of his Hydra days was enough to make even the nicest person uncomfortable. It was almost too easy for Bucky to convince himself that the mere sight of his scars would leave your friendship dead in the water, but he was wrong.

“Can I…?”

You cautiously reached out a hand in the direction of his chest, stopping a few inches from the surface of his skin. Bucky wanted to say no, to reject your gesture- but the deep seeded need for comfort won his internal debate. He needed the gentle touch, the warmth of your hand, the peace brought on by physical connection with someone he cared about.

Unable to speak, Bucky nodded.

The pads of your fingers met his skin lightly at first, eliciting a quiet gasp from his chest. The sound filled you with regret and you almost moved your hand away completely, fearing you’d taken things a step too far.

But Bucky didn’t want you to stop.

He couldn’t believe how good it felt, allowing someone to gently touch the abused parts of himself. He’d known only excessive force for decades, and never imagined he’d experience gentleness again. But the way your hand gently ghosted along his skin gave him goosebumps. Your very touch left warmth in its wake and broke down the thick wall Bucky had built to protect himself. A deep, primal sigh of relief left his lips as you added your other hand into the mix, allowing it to gently lay against his largest scar.

“Were you nervous about me seeing these?” you stared up into his eyes, recognizing the fraction of worry that remained in his expression.

Once, more Bucky gave you a nod.

“I know you’re a good person- I know that you wouldn’t judge me. But I just- I really don’t want you to see me differently”. He let out a huff as he stared down at his marred chest, “I know they’re…unpleasant to look at. They’re pretty disgusting. And I thought that if you saw them, you’d be scared. I was afraid you’d put distance between us- I don’t want that”.

One hand left Bucky’s chest and moved up to his face, resting gently against his cheek. He leaned into the gesture almost immediately, desperate for as much physical contact as possible.

“They’re not disgusting, Buck. They’re you. Everything about you- even the stuff you don’t like- makes you who you are”. Bucky’s eyes flicked toward the floor. “I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide part of yourself,” you let one finger drag lazily between a few smaller marks near his clavicle, “we should play connect the dots with them. Who knows- maybe they form something cool? Like a velociraptor. Or a pretzel”.

Bucky’s eyes rolled so far back in his head that you feared they’d get stuck there- but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. His arms wrapped you in a bear hug and pulled you flush against his scarred chest, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace. Your hands snaked up his spine, taking inventory of the scars that littered his back and shoulders.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about the scars- or anything from your past. Especially not with me. Okay?”

-----

With you around, Bucky felt like a new man. Your presence warmed him from the inside out and made the hollow feeling that he'd plagued him for decades a thing of the past. He still flinched every now and then- out of instinct- when you raised a hand to play with his hair or rub his shoulders. Seeing him wince preemptively broke your heart every time, but the instances of fear slowly became less frequent.

He never had to wonder if he was safe with you- he knew. He trusted you not to hurt him; something he couldn’t say about anyone else. His defenses lowered a bit more each time he spent time with you, each time he felt your gentle hands raking through his hair or rubbing the length of his spine. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he didn’t feel like he had to protect himself. With you lying next to him, there was no need for hypervigilance.

You seemed to erode his defenses over time, like the ocean wearing away at a jagged cliff. Only one of his many defense mechanisms remained in place, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he felt comfortable letting it go.

-----Three Months Ago-----

Bucky had worn a pained expression all day, but wouldn’t give you a clue as to the cause. He sat through his debriefing, a team meeting, and dinner with Wanda and Sam, all while doing his best to hide his discomfort. But he couldn't hide it from you. You knew him too well, too intimately, to believe the manufactured facade that covered his pain like a mask.

It wasn’t until the two of you were alone in his room that he finally came clean. He dropped down onto his bed, grimacing the second his body hit the mattress.

“Buck? Can you talk to me? You’re clearly in pain- what’s going on?” You joined him on the bed cautiously, careful not to shake or jostle him in any way. His stormy blue eyes stared up at you and he did his best to prop himself up on his metal elbow- but faltered almost instantly.

“It’s my arm…” he lifted the vibranium limb ever so slightly, wincing as he did so. The look of confusion you wore would’ve made Bucky laugh- if it weren’t for the agonizing pain. “It’s not the arm itself- I mean, the arm is what’s hurting me. It rubs against my scar sometimes. It digs into the skin and puts pressure on what’s left of my joint”. He fell quiet for a moment and let his eyes drift downward until he found the courage to speak up once again.

“Is it okay if I- would you mind if I take it off?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Buck, it’s your arm. You don’t have to ask me permission-”

“No, I know. I just mean…I actually think I'd feel okay not wearing it around you, like I don’t need it. I know I don’t have to protect myself. But I don’t want to make you feel weird.”

Your fingers ran slowly through his long hair, gently scratching at his scalp like you often did. “It won’t make me feel weird- I want you to be comfortable. If not wearing it will make you feel better, then I want you to take it off.”

A small smile crept across Bucky’s face. He sat up slowly, grimacing as his metal arm dug into his scar tissue. His right hand moved upward, ready to undo the mechanisms that locked his arm in place- and then he stopped. He shot you a look, silently asking if you were sure, and your reassuring smile was all he needed.

His fingers worked nimbly to detach the arm from his body, a deep sigh of relief escaping his lips when the heavy vibranium dropped onto the bed.

“Better?”

“Better”

-----

The reminders of his past- his arm, his scars- brought him both physical and mental pain on a daily basis. With your help, the voice in his head that called him a monster fell almost completely silent.

When he looked in the mirror and ran his eyes over the version of himself that Hydra created, he couldn’t help but feel a little more at peace. You slowly helped him accept that he’d never be the bright-eyed kid from Brooklyn he once was, and he was okay with that. Together, the two of you found a way to help him grow comfortable with the scars that littered his body and the weapon that served as his left arm.

But something nagged at him.

He’d grown to accept his new reality, but there was one thing left over from his time at Hydra that wasn’t permanent.

-----Now-----

Bucky awoke suddenly, his head leaving its resting place on your chest.

“Buck? Hey, is everything okay?” you stared down at him, your hand still tangled in his long locks.

His intensity alarmed you. Only seconds ago, he'd been fast asleep without a care in the world- but a deep sense of urgency now set his eyes aflame. He quickly sat up and took a deep breath, the gears in his mind turning at an unmatched speed. He had a nervous energy buzzing around him that set you on edge. But just as you opened your mouth ask yet again what was wrong, he blurted out the reason for his unrest.

“I want to cut my hair.”

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected Bucky’s hair to be the cause of his sudden outburst. He’d taken you so off guard that all you could do was stare at him and simply repeat what he’d said.

“You…want to cut your hair?”

Bucky gave you a nod. “I’ve been thinking about it, and when I look in the mirror, I don’t look like me. I look like…him. I don't recognize myself. I can deal with the arm, and you’re making me feel better about the scars. I can’t change those things about myself- I’ll always have to have a replacement for my arm, and the scars aren’t going away, regardless of the serum. But the hair…it’s not me. I don’t…”

He swallowed hard, “I don’t want to look like the Winter Soldier anymore”.

All this time, you’d been so focused on helping Bucky find peace with the permanent side effects of his time at Hydra- but you hadn’t even considered the easiest fix. His long hair was a holdover from Hydra’s neglect, a sign of how little they cared about him. At no point did they think to give him the grooming he deserved, whether he was under cryo or fully alert. You thought maybe no one could get close enough to him while armed with scissors, but if they ordered him not to kill the barber, he’d obey. But you supposed that, just maybe, letting his hair grow was better than forcibly shaving his head and erasing even more of his identity.

“Of course, Buck. Let’s…” you reached for your phone and began searching the internet for barber shops in the area, “I’ll make you an appointment somewhere. We can-”

“I want you to do it.”

The phone slipped from your hand. Your eyes flicked up to meet Bucky’s but he didn’t crack a smile or give you a laugh- he was serious. “I’m not- I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to cut hair, Buck. I tried to give myself bangs once and the results were…disastrous”.

But Bucky didn’t care.

“Please? I trust you…" he ran a hand through his soon to be shorn locks, "I only trust you”.

And that was all the convincing you needed. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night; only moments later, you'd gathered clippers and a pair of scissors, ready to give Bucky a makeover. He watched you in the mirror as you took inventory of his long locks. Your gentle hands moved through his hair, weaving their way in and out while you decided on a plan of attack.

“Okay. Um…” your hands slid down and rested on his shoulders, “we’re gonna- I’m gonna start with the scissors and you know, make it shorter. And then just, like, clean it up with the clippers? I guess?”

Bucky chuckled at your nervous stammering. His cold hand snaked upward to meet one of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze as your nerves bubbled over.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect- it doesn’t even have to be good. I just want to look like me.”

“Well, you’re gonna look like you, but with a shitty haircut”.

He eyed your hand as you reached for the scissors, a familiar sense of dread filling his chest when the sharp blades caught the light. His instincts wanted him to disarm you, to rip the scissors from your hands and prevent you from coming near him with the pointed metal. But he fought against the reflex. He did his best to remain calm, but his shaky breathing caught your attention. Slowly, you replaced the scissors on the bathroom counter.

“I know you’re not gonna hurt me…it’s just a reflex”, Bucky spoke with his head down, still trying to get a handle on his anxiety, “It's just- I see someone with what could be a weapon, and the training tries to take over automatically- no matter what”.

“That’s okay. Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. We can-”

“Yes. I’m sure. Please, I trust you”.

And so began the transformation.

Armed with a pair of scissors, you slowly moved in the direction of Bucky’s long hair. His shoulders tensed and his brow furrowed as the blades got closer, and it took everything in you not to tear up.

“You’re doing great, Buck. Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

He did as you asked- just as you made the first cut. Slowly and carefully, you cut away at Bucky’s soft locks. The tension in his jaw seemed to let up ever so slightly as your familiar hands weaved their way through his hair like they had so many times before.

He kept his head down and his eyes closed, forcing himself to keep his breathing steady as the scissors carved their way through his long strands. He was doing so well, staying so calm and still for you. It was only when you heard a quiet sniffle that you put the scissors down.

“Buck? Hey, what’s going on?” you knelt at his feet, your hands resting on his knees, “talk to me. Do you regret doing this? Cause we can stop. I’ll just-”

He raised his head for the first time since your started cutting and met your eyes with his tearful stare. “I’m fine- I’m better than fine. This is…these are good tears. I’ve been thinking about this for so long. I’m just- please, would you keep going?” He flashed you a small, reassuring smile that launched you back into action.

There were a few pauses here and there for you to watch YouTube tutorials and look up tips from experts. When you finished with the scissors, a deep sigh of relief left Bucky’s chest. He leaned his head back for a moment and rested it against your body, smiling to himself as your familiar warmth set him at ease. But the loud buzzing of the clippers set him on edge once again.

Even though you’d warned him of the incoming noise, a sharp flinch pulled his muscles into hard lines as the sound vibrated inside of his skull. You quickly shut the clippers off, reinstating the peaceful quiet. But Bucky didn’t want you to stop.

“It’s okay- I’m fine. You can turn them back on…” he said with his head bowed, “I need this”.

And so you turned the clippers back on, once again filling the small room with noise. Bucky flinched ever so slightly as the sound grew closer to his head, but found all the comfort he needed in your free hand resting against his shoulder. His metal hand reached up, laying atop yours and giving it a squeeze for an extra dose of security. this jaw remained tense as the clippers worked their way up and down his scalp, but your hand resting under his was all he needed. And when you were finally finished, his new style actually looked pretty decent.

“Um, okay. I’m done. Give it a look- tell me what you think…” you waited with bated breath for Bucky to finally give his new image peek. It took him a long moment for him to gather the courage to face himself; he’d been forced into change so many times, and now that it was on his own terms, it was somehow scarier. With a deep breath, Bucky faced the mirror.

More tears welled in his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks as he took in the final product. He couldn’t believe it- he actually recognized himself. Staring back at him wasn’t a tortured killer, it was the James Buchanan Barnes he used to know. He was quiet as he stared at himself in the mirror. His gaze never wavered, almost as though he feared that if he blinked or looked away, this version of him would cease to exist yet again. He slowly ran his hand through his short tresses, feeling more like himself than he had in years.

His quiet stare made you nervous. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you couldn’t stop yourself from piping up, “Do you like it? If not, I can go find one of the guys, maybe they can-”

“The last time I looked like this, I was following Steve onto a Hydra train…”

The room filled with an eerie silence as Bucky thought back on that fateful day. He swore he could still feel the ice cold wind whipping across his face, the sensation of falling without any hope of a safe landing. A small shiver crawled up his spine, and you feared he may lose himself in the violent flashback. But a sudden light in his eyes gave you hope.

Bucky quickly turned around and enveloped you in a hug so tight you saw stars. He whispered thanks into the crook of your neck over and over again as the weight of the moment overwhelmed him completely. The two of you remained locked in each other’s arms for a few long moments, breathing together as Bucky regained his composure. The emotion of it all was almost too much but, as always, your presence brought Bucky back to earth, back to the present.

“Thank you. I know I just said it like a hundred times but…” Bucky pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, “thank you for doing this for me”.

The two of you walked hand in hand back to bed, exhausted from the 3am catharsis. Bucky’s head rested against your sternum as your ran your hand through his hair, getting accustomed to the new cut. Bucky’s body begged him to sleep, but he resisted the pull of rest. He had things he needed to say to you that were far more important than rest- but couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. Instead, his head remained on your chest, your heartbeat bringing him peace as he spoke.

“I can’t thank you enough. For everything. I never thought…I didn’t think I’d get to have someone like you in my life- someone so patient and kind and understanding. You’re just good. I hope you know how much you mean to me, how much I appreciate you. You changed my life. And I don’t know how much longer I have left, you know? But I’m glad I’ve gotten to spend even a little bit of my time on earth with you”.

And now it was you who couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. A few tears welled in your eyes and dripped down your cheeks, dampening your shirt. Bucky heard the uptick in your heartbeat as your emotions swelled, but didn’t point it out. He simply held you a little tighter, waiting until you were ready to speak- and even then, all you managed was a shaky “I’m always here for you, Buck.”

The two of you finally drifted off to sleep, your bodies tangled together in a safe embrace. For Bucky, getting close to you was never about anything other than being your friend. He didn’t open up to you in the kitchen that night because he suspected that you might’ve been able to help him wade through the dark waters of his past- from the very first smile you shot his way, he was hooked. It was a happy accident that being near you helped him learn how to trust again, to accept himself for who he was and who he could be.

And your goal was never to fix Bucky- he wasn’t broken. People joked about him being a problem to be solved or a question to be answered, but you simply saw him as a quiet, tormented man who didn’t deserve even a fraction of what he’d gone through. But when he started to thaw out, to grow comfortable with the idea of closeness with another human being, you realized just how good the two of you were for each other. Watching Bucky slowly rediscover who he was with you by his side felt like watching a chrysalis crack open at the beginning of spring.

——————————-

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metalandmagi · 2 years

Text

I’m once again going to talk about the most insane Disney Channel Original Movie franchise

Hello, and welcome to me screaming about the latest movie in the most bizarre Disney Channel Original Movie franchise ever created, ZOMBIES 3. I’m a grown adult woman, and yet I can’t stop myself from going feral every time they announce a new one of these movies. Every time I think the last one was a fever dream, they make a new one that’s even more colorful and 10x crazier.

Here are my thoughts with absolutely zero context:

Zed wants to be the first zombie to go to college when his best friend is a literal genius who works for a tech company who any real college would be begging to accept...what the fuck is this movie?

Not only is their school football team pro monsters, but they’re also co-ed!

I’m calling it now, the town’s “most precious thing” is going to be Addison.

DON’T MAKE THE WEREWOLF GUY LIKE ELIZA, SHE’S CLEARLY A LESBIAN!

We got 10 minutes into the movie before getting a song??!

THIS MOVIE THAT RELIES ON SO MANY CHARACTERS WEARING WIGS HAS ABSOLUTELY NO BUDGET FOR GOOD WIGS!

I love that no adult in any DCOM knows how to act.

Is one of the aliens non-binary?

Is the alien mothership voiced by RuPaul?

EJ FROM HSMTMTS IS IN THIS MOVIE!? AND HE’S BASICALLY THE SAME CHARACTER?! And Meg Donnelly is going to be in the new season that airs on the 27th...this is begging for a crossover or a meta joke. Something, I’m begging you people!

Okay for real though, No Doubt About It is a bop.

There is a rival school whose mascot is an Eel named Eely and they have a...friendship...rivalry...romance(?) with the Seabrook shrimp?!

Love that they imply that a teenage boy, (Jacey?), has had multiple nose jobs. Also the Aceys are definitely in a polyamorous relationship.

They named the frozen yogurt place “Coach’s Froyo” 😆😆😆

I see we’re continuing the tradition of Addison punching Zed in the face whenever he surprises her.

I appreciate that we’re not dicking around and drawing out the realization that Addison is part alien. We all knew she was going to be after the second movie’s teaser.

I love that we get a song about aliens invading and a song about interviewing for college in the same movie.

We’ve gotten about 70% less Bucky, and Idk how to feel about that. Also his choice in hats has convinced me that he would be the ideal boyfriend for Ryan from High School Musical.

Why do the judges for this high school cheer off seem so awkwardly horny? Also do they know the aliens are actual aliens...or do they just think that’s their team name? I’m assuming they know...in which case, they seem pretty chill about it.

How does Seabrook afford to have different cheerleading outfits for every competition?

Does this movie have a different choreographer? The cheerleading sequences have so much less energy than the first movie’s. I know the song Addison’s singing has a slower tempo...but the moves are so bland. I guess this is what happens when Bucky isn’t the team captain.

If y’all thought Addison’s white hair wig was bad...get ready for her BLUE HAIR WIG.

Oh wow, Addison is the town’s “most precious thing” who would have guessed?

Addison’s dad is so chill with his wife and daughter being descended from aliens XD These adults went from being extremely racist/species-ist to just shrugging and accepting an alien invasion.

The werewolves in this movie can barely enunciate while wearing their fangs!

I literally don’t care about any of this alien finding utopia bullshit, I just want to see Zed and Addison in college together.

It’s not a ZOMBIES movie without a reprise of Someday.

Addison’s best friend sings literally one solo line in this movie and it’s enough to make me want a whole musical with her as the star.

Seabrook must exist in a vacuum because these aliens would be real disappointed to find out that Earth sucks as much as it does.

Werewolf leader and non-binary alien are going to be a thing!? I’m here for it!

Omg Zed and Addison singing the last song around the lightbulbs as a callback to the first movie 😭

I don’t know whether to be happy at the expectation subversion of getting aliens in this town before vampires...or sad that I don’t get to see this universe’s take on vampires.

The message of this movie is that conflict doesn’t have to be bad. Love perseveres, conflict can make us stronger if we come together to face our problems. This makes sense in a vague, idealistic way, but the conflict that the town was facing originally was essentially racism. So...I feel like they might want to rethink that one a little bit.

I also want to appreciate how non-binary alien’s (I should really remember their name by now) “feelings” for Zed were purely used for comedy and no real drama comes from this. Addison and Zed are a supportive power couple and have literally no conflict with each other throughout the entire movie, even when Addison believes she has to leave him behind.

Overall, the songs are better than the second one’s but still not as good as the first’s. And I wish we’d give up on these movies having a plot and focus on this crazy cheerleading obsessed town again.

Anyway, I want a million more of these movies. But this one went straight to Disney+ so my fever dream might end here...

#disney zombies #zombies 3 #z-o-m-b-i-e-s #it's time once again for me to rant about this children's franchise that no one cares about #i'm spoiling the shit out of this children's movie btw #if anyone cares about spoilers

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