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#tfatws gif set
vader-anakin · 8 months
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Bucky Barnes
THE WHOLE WORLD IS WATCHING | The Falcon and The Winter Soldier
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bubbarnes · 8 months
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“󠀢... well, i know a crazy when i see one. because i am crazy”.
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5ummit · 1 year
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Bucky Barnes in TFATWS Ep3 + Rumlow’s Gun
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daniel-bruehl · 26 days
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Daniel Brühl as BARON ZEMO The Falcon and The Winter Soldier | 1.03
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thewintersoldier · 1 year
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Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (2021) - 1.05 • "Truth"
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barneswilsonrogers · 11 months
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Marvel Studios' Assembled: The Making of The Falcon & The Winter Soldier
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ex0rin · 1 year
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I’ll be getting over you my whole life. Labyrinth - Taylor Swift, Midnights
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simplybombshell · 8 months
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Sebastian Stan as Steve in "I'm Not Here" (2017)
All gifs made and edited from scratch by me.
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luna-rainbow · 7 months
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I remember a while ago there were several metas talking about Bucky being right-handed (which he then confirms in TFATWS) while the Winter Soldier is left-handed, usually using this scene as proof:
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And maybe even this:
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But recently I saw several gif sets of Bucky on the train right before the fall (one of which I’ll reblog after this) and look:
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He’s moving the gun between his left hand and right hand interchangeably, even when the right arm is not injured. In a later scene, he takes down the trooper with a single shot with left-handed aim — so he’s no slouch on that side. He then goes back to using his right hand when he picks up the shield.
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On the converse, the Winter Soldier also uses his right hand and left hand interchangeably, notably in that scene:
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In fact I think if you do an overall tally of how both Bucky and the Winter Soldier reach for their weapons — whether that’s a rocket launcher or a gun or knives — you’ll find that the majority of the time it’s in their right hand (just a quick GIF search would prove this). But the times they do use it in their left hand, they are still dangerously competent with it.
So I think Bucky (and the Winter Soldier) is right-hand dominant as he says, but he’s learned to use his left hand competently as a shooter before became the Winter Soldier. He’s then turned it into a useful skill to throw off his opponents.
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Up until this point he’s been trying to stab Steve with his right hand, but Steve keeps blocking it with his shield. When Bucky drops the knife into his left hand, Steve’s attention follows the knife and Bucky instead uses his right hand to punch Steve in the head.
I think another part of the “Winter Soldier is left-handed” thought comes from the fact he often uses the left arm for brute force tasks - like ripping off doors from cars and helicopters, and punching into cement.
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For most of us, our dominant hand is both the stronger and more dextrous hand, but for Bucky his right hand is more dextrous while his left arm is stronger (we’ll just accept the science of that for now…). So I feel like this is something that Bucky has learned to adapt — he uses that left arm for tasks that require the mechanical strength or as a metal shield, while the right is still his instinctive go-to for fine coordination tasks.
How, why, and when Bucky learned to be ambidextrous not just for firearms but also for hand to hand combat is a delicious source of angst worth exploring.
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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 9 months
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☆。.:*・゚ Sweet Nothings 。.:*・゚☆
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pairing: tfatws!bucky x baker!reader
warning: fluff, multiple mentions of cake, mentions of Bucky with children
a/n: Ahhh I had this idea before going to bed and literally stayed up two hours working on it. I finished it this morning, and I've gotta stay I'm proud of my commitment because I usually take at least a month to finish a fanfiction. Hopefully, there's more where this came from. P.S. I'm not a baker, so I'm sorry if I fudged any details. Feedback is always appreciated but please be kind. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated but no reposting without credit <3
word count: 1.6k
summary: Reader is a baker and Bucky gets a cake from her to take to Sam's picnic party on the docks (scene from tfatws).
☆。.:*・゚
The bell jingled as Bucky entered Sweet Nothings, the bakery you had started from the ground up. He was instantly enveloped by the sweet scent of baked goods from the array of desserts neatly displayed in the glass case by the counter. Underneath the sugar, he smelled the new chai latte you had just added to the menu. It had been an instant hit, totally trumping the one at Starbucks that everyone raved about. Chai had been a nostalgic drink for you and a completely new one for Bucky. He now had an affinity for it, however, and asked for it every time he entered the shop after you made him the first honorary taste tester of the drink. Now, the shop was bustling since it was happy hour.
Soft music played in the background. Bucky recognized the voice of Taylor Swift, one of your favorite artists. She was one of Bucky's favorites now too. You had impeccable taste, and any song you loved became his favorite. The album that was currently playing was Midnights, the one you had told Bucky he was most like. He loved that about you, how you would associate things like albums and songs with him. It made his heart swell, knowing you thought about him in relation to music, which had a special place in your heart.
You were nowhere in sight, so he assumed you were in the back checking on your bread dough. Bucky approached the barrier that led to the backroom for employees and pushed the door open, hoping to surprise you while you were working. Once he entered, he found you bent over your proving drawer, checking on a fluffy batch of bread dough. He tiptoed up to you and grabbed your waist, lifting you off your feet and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. Bucky spun you around, chuckling at your reaction (what did he expect when he literally attacked you with a bear hug from behind?).
Finally, he set you down on your feet and spun you around to face him. His eyes were crinkled with laugh lines as he took in your disheveled form. Your hair was in a low messy bun with a few strands astray in the front. You donned a cream-colored beret and a blue long-sleeve over which you had on your cheeky apron that read "Kiss the Cook." It was, of course, gifted to you by none other than your doting boyfriend. A light dusting of flour over your entire being gave you an angelic glow. In Bucky's eyes, you looked more heavenly than all of the desserts in your shop combined.
You blew your hair out of your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest before attempting to glare at Bucky. You didn't last long, however, as his sheepish grin caused you to look down, so he wouldn’t catch you smiling.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” you admonished him half-heartedly. “Bakers can be dangerous when startled, you know.”
“Sure, doll,” Bucky still had on that cheeky grin. “I don’t know about dangerous, though. Former assassin here, remember?” He pointed at himself with his index fingers as if you didn't already know. "I think I can handle a blow from a rolling pin." He picked up the nearest tool his hand landed on, which, unfortunately for him, was a basting brush, making his joke fall flat. He sheepishly put the brush away as you tried not to laugh.
You gave him a warning look before turning your back to him and smiling wide. You may pretend to be annoyed by his antics, but they truly brought joy to your heart and brightened up your bland days. You loved your job, but you loved your man most of all.
“I’ve got the cake ready for Sam’s. Just gotta put the finishing touches on it. Did you bring the Oreos, baby boy?”
You turned around to find his face in yours. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve found it incredibly infuriating. But with Bucky, it left you blushing to your core.
He wrapped his arms around you and held up the blue plastic box. “Right here, sweetheart.”
It was a generic nickname that every single boyfriend in the history of the world had called his girlfriend at some point. But somehow, it was almost erotic coming from his plush pink lips with that deep timbre. You sometimes wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on you.
“Thank you,” was all you trusted yourself to say as you took the box of cookies from him and started peeling off the plastic cover. You moved away from him and carefully placed six cookies on the cake, one on each of the iced rosettes on the border.
“Alright, Buck, I think it’s ready for the party. Lemme just get a box for it, and we’ll be on our way.”
Bucky smiled as he watched you tenderly place the plastic casing on the cake as if it was your baby. In a way, it was, along with all of your other creations.
“Alrighty then, doll,” Bucky grabbed the cake in his gloved flesh hand, then put his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Thank you so much for making this, baby cakes.”
You turned pink hearing him use your favorite nickname of all time. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you mumbled bashfully, suddenly shy again in the crook of his arm.
“It’s a Sweet Nothing, which means it’s the opposite of nothing. Doll, this cake is quite literally everything to me.”
“Buckyyy,” you playfully swatted him away. Sure, you were proud of your work, but you still got flustered when people complimented you, especially your boyfriend, who took every chance to make you feel like you were the biggest star in his world.
You eased yourself out of his embrace momentarily to hunt down your assistant. “Lemme just tell Nico to take over the closing shift tonight.”
Bucky nodded and waited patiently by the door for you to rejoin him. You returned and looped your arm around his waist to steer him out of your shop.
☆。.:*・゚
Bucky drove the both of you from the bakery to the docks in his pickup. You held the cake securely in your lap with your right hand and entwined your left with Bucky's. When you arrived, you let go of his hand and moved to open the door, but Bucky reached over you to close it again. Then he climbed out of the truck and rushed to open your door.
"M'lady," you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't help smiling as he took the cake from you so you could climb out of the car. He shut your door behind you, then took off with the cake balanced precariously in his flesh hand.
"Bucky! Be careful!" Your cries were drowned out by Sam's nephews, who were happily trailing Bucky at the sight of the cake. They tried play-fighting with him, pretending to punch him in the face, to which Bucky pretended to stagger backward from the force of impact.
You sighed and let the corners of your mouth lift as you watched your lover boy, totally enamored by his way with children.
Bucky ran to the nearest picnic table and finally placed the cake down safely. You let out a breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding in and walked over to him.
☆。.:*・゚
Bucky returned to entertaining the kids a little while after everyone had eaten. He stood atop a picnic table, talking to you and Sarah with his metal arm extended out. Sam's nephew and his friend hung off of Bucky's arm. You were trying your hardest to concentrate on what he told you about his days in the Navy, but you couldn't help giggling softly at the sight of him effortlessly holding up two children using only one of his arms.
When you could finally steal a moment alone with him, you handed him a beer and tugged his arm to lead him to the pier's edge. You plopped down and let your feet dangle, the bottoms of your boots grazing the water's surface. After a moment, Bucky crouched down to join you. He scooted closer so his thigh was pressed up against yours. He put his arm around you, and you sighed softly, leaning into his shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Nose pressed against Bucky's shoulder, you inhaled, reveling in the warm scent of freshly-cut pine and the sweet undertones of amber and musky vanilla.
You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulder, suddenly needing to be closer to him than you already were. He seemed to understand and gently twisted to the side, snaking one arm around your lower back and using the other to bring your legs into his lap. You moved in to kiss him tenderly. Your hands were in his hair, his hands were on your hips, and everything felt perfect at that moment. You could still taste the Oreo cake on his breath, and you broke away from the kiss slowly, smiling all the while. Bucky returned your smile warmly as you turned to look at the sunset.
Bucky watched it paint your face the most gorgeous shade of pink and thanked his lucky stars at that moment. Somehow, life had brought you to him. He had never thought of himself as fortunate, but he was ecstatic now that you were in his arms, and he damn sure was never going to let go of this beautiful thing he had with you. He pressed his lips to your forehead and tightened his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
☆。.:*・゚
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delicatebarness · 8 days
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i cant read your mind | chapter one
Summary: It has been six months since half the universe came back, six months since Steve left, six months since you lost Natasha, and three months since finding out the man you were sleeping with wanted to end it.
Warnings: MCU Spoilers. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout.
Word Count: 1600
Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
A/N: I have watched TFATWS at least 6 times this week so I am prepared for this.
Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff
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As Sam addressed the crowd at the Smithsonian, you listened to his every word by Rhodey’s side. You let yourself laugh at the appropriate moments and fought back tears as your friend paid tribute to another. Your heart ached as you watched him pass on the shield, the symbol that guided you to become the best agent you could and more.
“I can’t do this,” you murmured almost inaudibly as you slipped away from the crowd, retreating to the quiet street. You steadied your thoughts, taking a few deep breaths. Retrieving your phone from your purse, you hesitated before dialing a number. “Come on,” you urged as the ringing persisted. 
Disappointment washes over you as you realize there’s no answer on the other end, you stand there for a moment. Staring at your call lost, feeling the loneliness creep in as you see that none of your calls have been picked up. Taking another deep breath, you put your phone back and start walking. Each step is a deliberate effort to move forward. 
While navigating the streets of Washington, your thoughts are focused on the events at the Smithsonian. The passing of the shield symbolized the end of an era for you. An era that had taken over her entire adult life. 
~
You enter your quiet apartment and sink onto the couch. The weight of the day, flight, and lack of food were starting to seem heavier, you couldn’t bring yourself to get changed out of the formal black dress you had been wearing since half four that morning. You retrieved your phone from your purse once again, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated whether to try calling again. 
You knew it was getting late but you dialed the number again, heart pounding with anticipation. As the phone rang, you tried not getting your hopes up, but they were crushed when it went to voicemail. 
Sighing deeply, you set your phone down as you got back up from the couch and made your way back out into the street. You were proud of yourself for not letting the tears spill down your cheeks. 
The streets were quiet, and the soft glow of the streetlights offered a semblance of solace. With no destination in your mind, you wandered as the hunger gnawed at your stomach. Searching for a nearby restaurant for a late-night bite, you approached the diner you knew as Izzy. 
Your heart lurched in your chest as you recognized the figure through the window, sitting opposite a woman, she seemed to be laughing at whatever it was he was telling her. Playing a game of Battleship and drinking. “Not like that’s going to affect him,” you thought as you took in the sight. For a moment, you stood frozen in place, the tears you previously held back now beginning to spill. 
~
Once you were home and washed the day off of you, a hint of optimism rose from within you. Deciding to open yourself up to a new experience, you downloaded a popular dating app and uploaded all the photos of you in dresses that hugged your body just the way you loved. The way he once said should be for his eyes only. Swiping through profiles, it didn’t take long for you to come across someone who caught your eye, and match with them. 
You exchanged messages for the rest of the night, at some point agreeing to meet for brunch the next morning.
~
Your date was waiting for you when you arrived at the cafe, a friendly smile lighting up his face. Exchanging greetings, he pulled out a chair for you and helped with your coat and bag. You thanked him, finding yourself relaxed in his company. 
Settling into conversation, you shared stories, laughed, and began feeling a genuine connection. You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly feel this happy in three months, letting yourself let go of the weight that had been pressed into your chest for so long.
“Is that? Is that The Winter Soldier?” your date asked, his focus moving away from you and instead toward the entrance of the cafe. Turning your gaze over to where your date had been looking, it felt like time stopped as you looked into the eyes of a furrowing James Buchanan Barnes. His fist clenched under his leather gloves. 
“Here we go,” you mumbled under your breath as you noticed him making his way over to you. With trembling hands, you reached for the glass of champagne that sat on the table in front of you. Tilting the glass back, you swallowed every last drop of it in an attempt to calm yourself down. 
“I need to speak to you,” Bucky growled, his voice low and commanding as he towered over you. As much as you’ve wanted nothing more than to be around him for the last three months, you kept your gaze fixed on your date. “Now.” 
“I’m on a date,” your tone even with a hint of defiance as you responded to the super soldier. You watched as the eyes of your date filled with fear and amazement. 
“I can see that,” he replied dryly, sarcasm dripping in his tone as he gave your date a pointed look. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the tension between you and Bucky. 
“Whatever you have to say, it can wait,” your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m here with someone else,” you added emphasis on ‘someone else’ as you sensed him tense up beside you. 
Your date cleared his throat, shooting a hesitant glance between you and Bucky. He spoke up, his tone polite but uneasy. “Perhaps I should… give you two some privacy?” He began to stand from the table, making his way over to the restrooms. Bucky quickly sat in the seat he had previously occupied. 
Your gaze was ablaze with a mixture of hurt and frustration as you finally made eye contact with Bucky. “What do you want?” your voice trembled slightly. 
Bucky couldn’t suppress the sarcasm that came from his tone as he looked over toward the restrooms. “Well, he seems like a real charmer,” his tone full of irony. 
You shot him a disapproving look, eyebrows knitting together in a silent warning. “Again, what do you want?” Bucky looked back at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his hips. Rolling your eyes, you defended the man you had known for less than 12 hours. “He’s a nice guy,” 
Leaning back in his seat, Bucky folded his arms across his chest as he sent you a knowing look. “If you say so,” he remarked. If it wasn’t for the dry and snarky tone, you’d have thought he was backing down. “And, I’m sure he can handle a doll such as you,” he continued while sending you a wink. 
“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me like you have done for the last three months?” you sighed, picking up your fork and using it to move food around your plate.
“I saw the pictures you used for your little dating profile,” he glared at you when he noticed a smirk now taking place over your lips.
You shrugged nonchalantly and replied with a calm tone. “Yeah, and?”
His jaw tightened at your response, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Thought they were only for me?” he pressed.
Your expression softened, remorse flickering over your features as you looked back at him. “Things change,” you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. “I waited five years for you to come back, five years of not even knowing if you were coming back,” your voice quivered with emotion.
Bucky’s gaze softened, and he straightened his posture. “I know-” he began to speak but you cut him off before he could finish.
“No, Bucky, you don’t” you shot back at him, your voice rising with each word. “You couldn’t possibly understand what it was like, not know where you went, or if you were alive or dead, or if you’d even come back,” 
His jaw once again clenched, “I waited over 90 years for you to come into my life,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion and vulnerability. 
Your eyes widened at his admission, you were both surprised and in disbelief, “But yet, you only waited three months before jumping into bed with someone else,” you accused, voice thick with bitterness. “How was your night of Battleship, by the way?”
His hands balled into fists on top of the table, his voice raised to match yours. “Firstly, I didn’t sleep with her,” he retorted. “And secondly, what the fuck is this?” he gestures toward your date as he started to make his way back out of the restroom.
“I’m sorry,” your date now interrupts your conversation with Bucky as she makes his way back over to you. “I didn’t know you two are exes,” 
“He’s not my ex!” 
“She’s not my ex!”
~
Alone in the dimly lit apartment, you allowed yourself to have a moment to rest, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths. The weight of your date pressing down on your shoulders. Surprisingly, he asked for a second date. Once Bucky had left, he offered to take you out again another time. You happily agreed.
As you began to drift into a state of relaxation, the sound of the television caught your attention. “... it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.” 
“What the fuck?!”
---
Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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bubbarnes · 8 months
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"... i may not know what i'm doing, but i always look good doing it".
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jadedvibes · 1 year
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Some Bucky to brighten your day. ❤️
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Last First Kiss
Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x reader
Warnings: Excessive fluff, first kisses, soft Bucky in Louisiana for New Year's Eve.
Word Count: 600
A/N: Thank you for this sweet @navybrat817. This truly brightened my day and inspired a nye drabble! Hope everyone has a very Happy New Year! 💙✨
“So a little birdie told me you’ve never had a new year’s kiss…” Bucky leaned against the wood railing beside you, taking in the sunset on the bayou.
Your eyes widened before you took a deep breath. “I’m gonna kill him.” Ever the meddler, Sam would tell your secret to the first guy you’d liked in a long time. 
“Yeah, I’ve been there,” he let out a laugh. “Sam always knows the exact right thing to do to get under your skin, it’s a gift really.” 
You shrugged casually. “He overheard me telling Sarah. It’s no big deal.” It really wasn’t, but you knew why Sam was annoyingly butting in. He’d also heard you telling his sister about how smitten you were with his dark-haired best friend. 
“Well let me know if you want to change that.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, a small smile playing at your lips. There was no way. “The killing him part or the kiss?” 
Bucky smirked, charmed and hopeful that you’d agree. “I haven’t had one in a while, so keep me posted,” he checked his watch. Only a few more hours until midnight. The Wilson household had planned a lowkey evening for the kids later, and the both of you would be in attendance. 
He’d secretly had a crush on you for a little longer than you had on him and with Sam’s encouragement he figured there was no better time to do something about it.
“Haven’t committed a murder or given a kiss in a while?” You smiled sheepishly, trying awfully hard to deflect. Of all the reactions to finding out you’d never had a new year’s kiss, this was the last one you expected. Sam’s best friend, a guy you thought was off-limits, offering to change things for you.
He let out a laugh, you were too adorable. “Think about it, sweetheart. I hear it’s good luck,” he playfully shot you a wink before heading back to the barbeque. 
Exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you turned back to look at the setting sun over the calm waters. Colorful, peaceful, and captivating.
Later that night.
Sam nudged Sarah before shouting. “Guys it's 12:04, you’ve rung in the new year! You can break it up now.”
Grinning against Bucky’s lips, you felt your cheeks warm again. Busted.
Bucky begrudgingly pulled away from you, turning to glare at Sam. “Just getting as much luck from this as we can, man. Feel free to look away,” he muttered breathlessly before meeting your gaze with a soft shy smile. His thumb stroked your jawline, noting how beautiful you were up close. 
He went from menacing to cute in a split second. How did he do that? It didn’t really matter because the way he looked at you, well you sure could get used to it. 
“Yeah, look somewhere else,” you teasingly scowled at Sam before tugging at Bucky's henley and kissing him again. He cupped your face and poured himself into the kiss. He thought he was out of practice, but it surprised him how easily he fell back into step with you. Soft and sweeter than anything you could’ve imagined. Warm and careful with just the right amount of desire to leave you aching. Nothing you could have expected, yet everything you silently wished for. 
Neither of you knew it then, but what a lucky year it would turn out to be. Never did you imagine that the man that would be your first new year’s kiss would also be your last; for many years in between, and every day after. 
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malum-forev · 11 months
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Co-Parenting
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Summary: Co-Parenting is always tough, especially with the man you thought you'd be spending the rest of your life with. Now add a super soldier.
Pairing: ExHusband!TFATWS!Bucky x Reader
Her foot impatiently tapped on the floor as she sat straight as an arrow on her couch, had she done everything already? Dusted the tables, done, washed the clothes, done, organized the fridge, done twice. (Y/n) looked down at her watch and huffed. 
“They should be here any minute now.” She said to herself while smoothing down her skirt. 
(Y/n) had gone to enough therapy and read way too many self-help books after her divorce to not know that this was just her brains way of controlling the situation. The only thing wrong with her defense mechanism was that there’s no way of controlling co-parenting with the man you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with. 
--
Bucky had met (Y/n) through Sam’s sister, Sarah had insisted on setting him up with a friend once she heard Sam say he was ready to start dating. 
“I never said I wanted to be set up on a blind date.” Bucky groaned through the phone, the three-way call was obviously not his idea but he was too afraid of Sarah to not answer. 
“What did you expect us to do? Set up your Tinder profile?” Sam’s laugh resonated through the tiny speaker. 
“I’ve heard of people having successful relationships from the Tinder.” Bucky said. “And the internet thing will help me take it slow.”
“You are so not ready for Tinder.” Sarah said. 
And she was right because the moment Bucky saw you sitting at the bar of the restaurant, he knew. Before he met you, Bucky said he didn’t believe in love at first sight because that meant you were only judging a person by their physical appearance but when he saw you, he knew it was real. The emotions he felt were much more than because you looked beautiful, it was like a gravitational pull. You were a magnet. 
--
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!” Sam wiped a fake tear as he pitched his voice up. It was a year later and Bucky was practicing his proposal with the only person who knew about it. Sarah could not be trusted with a secret this classified. 
Bucky stood up from his knelt position with a groan. “You think she’ll like it?”
“I’m not completely sure why she likes you but you’ve been clearly doing something right.” Sam patted his friend on the back. “Just do what you do best and she’ll say yes.”
“I don’t think she can tell the engagement story if I propose when I’m doing what I do best.” Bucky said with a smirk.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” 
--
Everything was going well, two years into the marriage was when Peanut came in. A beautiful baby girl that had Bucky wrapped around her tiny finger. Peanut was like a little tornado that went through the Barnes’ household, some days were easy and other days- well that’s where the problems came in. 
Sam first noticed it at Peanut’s third birthday party. He saw (Y/n) rush in and out of the house, decorations were still being put up and the serving platters with the appetizers were running low. 
“Shouldn’t Dad be helping Mom out?” Sam asked approaching Bucky on the dock of the house they’d bought.
The small ripples and the tranquil sound of the lake had eased Bucky’s nerves just to be altered again by Sam’s words. 
“I’m only in charge of holding up the pinata.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Direct orders from the missus.”
“(Y/n) looks like she’s about to have a mental breakdown over cupcakes, I think you should go over there and ask if she needs any he-“
“Well I think you should mind your own business Sam.” Bucky said flatly. 
Sam’s eyebrows shot up at his friend’s words and Bucky cursed at himself. 
“I’m sorry it’s just-“ He tried to backtrack but it was too late. Sam got the message and he held his hands up.
“You’re right, it’s your marriage.” Sam said sternly. 
--
Only a year after that, (Y/n) and Bucky settled the divorce. It hadn’t come as a shock to her, and honestly she’d been thinking about it for some time before he mentioned the D word (and not the one she wanted to hear). They settled out of court and that was that. (Y/n) kept the house and the cat, and he got a pretty flexible schedule for his time with Peanut. 
That was that, six years of being together was supposed to be erased with one single signature. Bucky had stopped trying and (Y/n) had stopped waiting for him to do something. 
So now, at least two times a month, she was here. Waiting for the minutes to pass until it was 5pm. 
Alpine started purring once she heard the muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. 
“Of course momma’s gonna be home, silly goose.” Peanut’s small voice said before the doorbell rang. 
(Y/n) rushed to the door, waited a couple of seconds and took three deep breaths before she opened, not wanting to look like she’d been waiting by the door for an hour. 
Will I ever stop getting butterflies when I see him? She wondered. 
But she already knew the answer, no. Bucky had aged like fine wine, sure he had a couple of grey hairs here and there but he still looked amazingly handsome. And seeing him picking their daughter up so she could reach the doorbell- an activity Peanut thought was incredible and groundbreaking- sent her hormones into overdrive. 
“Momma!” Peanut yelled, wrapping her tiny arms over (Y/n)’s shoulders as she knelt down. 
“Hi P! How was your weekend?” (Y/n) asked her, taking in the strawberry scent her shampoo had at her dad’s house. 
“It was amazing! Uncle Sam was there and he showed me all the new planes they have, I got to watch a movie where Daddy said they copied his fighting style.” She beamed. “I also got to practice fight with some of Daddy’s friends and they said I do it just like Daddy!”
Peanut rushed into the house and quickly climbed up the stairs. “Oh! I also got to swing with Spiderman!”
(Y/n) widened her eyes at Bucky, she was about to tell him off for letting their four-year-old daughter swing with a teenager but Peanut’s voice rang through the house.
“Daddy! You need to come up and see my new bed!” She yelled from her room.
“Saved by the bell.” Bucky winked and he too climbed up the stairs of the house they had shared. 
Bucky came down the stairs ten minutes later, heading towards the kitchen. 
“You’ve done some remodeling.” He said resting his hands on the counter. (Y/n) only hummed in response. 
“Do you need any money? Are you wanting to remodel more parts of the house?” He asked quietly. Although they were no longer together, Bucky had promised to take care of the woman who gave him the most priceless thing in the world, his daughter. 
(Y/n) shook her head. “I’m okay.”
Bucky nodded slowly, taking in the uncomfortable feeling his old house gave him. He’d bought it with the intentions of remodeling it, to give (Y/n) the house she’d always dreamed of. Bucky had started it, he fixed up the whole basement and the master bedroom but somewhere in the middle of it all he lost inspiration. He lost himself. 
“Are you going to tell me why you thought Peter was qualified to swing our daughter around the city?” (Y/n) raised her eyebrows. 
Bucky chuckled. “Swing is an overstatement and they were in the training room, not the city. I was there, supervising every move.”
“I’m glad she got to spend some time with you, P misses you when you’re on missions.” (Y/n) offered Bucky a small smile, the kind of smile he knew (Y/n) reserved for people who didn’t deserve her. The smile meant he had broken his family in two over something he cannot remember now.
“I miss her too.” Bucky’s voice cracked. “I miss you both.”
(Y/n) rubbed her tired eyes, wanting to unhear Bucky’s words. “You should go home, James.”
“I am home.” Bucky’s voice just above a whisper. 
(Y/n) shook her head. “This isn’t your home, not anymore.”
Her harsh words drove the knife deeper into his heart. 
“We can try-“ He started but was interrupted. 
“You have no right to come into my house after all you’ve done and say that we can try. I tried, for months. I switched up date night, I got a sitter, I asked what you wanted me to become-“ (Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “I started to think of ways I could change myself to be someone you wanted. But the problem is that you don’t know what you want James.”
“So don’t tell me we can try. Because I played the part, the person who wanted this relationship to work only for you to burn my efforts to the ground.” (Y/n)’s voice waivered. “So now the only thing that’s left to do is for you to leave.”
Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears. 
“I almost forgot,” (Y/n) sighed, opening one of the kitchen drawers and pulling out one of Bucky’s action figures Peanut had said she “needed to survive”, even though her father is the one who the plastic is modeled after. “P wanted you to take this so that when it’s career day at school she can tell her classmates what you do. Something about how the figurine has more value if it’s been on a mission.”
“When’s Career Day? Maybe I can-“ He tried again.
“You’ll be somewhere in Europe.” (Y/n) shook her head. 
Bucky looked down at the action figure, a model of what he was supposed to be. A protector. 
“I’ll see myself out.” He croaked. 
Pt. 2 Pt. 3
Hi hiii I know this is short but I just couldn't get Ex Husband Bucky out of my head. Hope you guys like it! &lt;;3
As always pls like, reblog and comment if you do! &lt;3
And don’t forget to ask a prompt for my 1k bingo game! 💖
tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour
*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.
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cacoetheswriting · 10 months
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a mutually assured attachment
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pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 3.9k summary: crossing the thin line between friendship and something more, but not before a few set backs.
warnings: set before tfatws, therapy positive, emotional hurt / comfort, mutual pinning, adult dialogue, use of pet names (sweets, darlin') mentions of food and alcohol consumption, a little bit of jealousy, friends to lovers, a conclusion to a lovely little slow burn
a/n: technically part of a mini-series, but can 100% be read as a standalone. also, unsure if anyone is still following this story, but i wanted to wrap it up ‘cause i really enjoyed starting this series all those months (years eek) ago. plus if anyone stumbles across it in the future, it will be complete! thank you for reading and for your support <3
SERIES MASTERLIST
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Bucky Barnes did not think of himself as the jealous type.
Yes, he envied his fair share of individuals he encountered throughout his long life: the people who made life appear easy, those who seemed to have everything figured out, and everyone who took “mundane” for granted.
The regular Joe’s with their nine-to-five jobs, a random group of friends, and not a care past anything other than their stack of overdue bills or their fantasy football league (whatever the hell that was…). The average Jane’s who often reminded Bucky of his own mother, hoping to grow and nurture happy homes, full of sweetness and a load of laughter, desperately trying to shield everyone around them from pain and misery.
Envy, yes. Bucky was familiar with the feeling. Jealousy however… Well, jealousy was different.
Jealousy was usually a side effect of romance. It called for a connection stronger than Bucky allowed himself to form with the people he met ever since he became himself again. It involved trekking on dangerous territory and putting other people at risk, therefore no, James Buchanan Barnes was not the jealous type.
That is until he met you.
He’s learned to admit that you entered his life at a time he did not even realise he needed you most, turning it completely upside down (for the better) and providing him with a glimmer of hope that there was still good in this post-blip world.
He’s grown attached to you, opening up in more ways than one and sharing thoughts he hasn’t spoken about with anyone since Steve. Over time, you have easily grown to be his favourite person.
And now Bucky was sitting at the bar, picking at the label of the beer bottle in his grip while watching you toss your head back in laughter at something this random suit-wearing jerk was saying.
You disappeared for five minutes to go to the bathroom. Bucky thought nothing of it, even ordered you another drink while you were gone. But when you didn’t come back to your seat, stopping instead for a chat with a stranger, you unknowingly caused an unnerving feeling to rush through the brunette sergeant.
This wasn’t the first time someone tried hitting on you while you were out with Bucky, (and considering how jaw droppingly beautiful you were, he was actually quite surprised it didn’t happen more often). However, this was the first time you engaged back in the flirtatious interaction, which was more than unsettling to your blue-eyed neighbour. 
He wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smirk off of the dude's face. Quite frankly, the only thing stopping him from doing so was the reason he wished to do it in the first place: you.
Fuck, Bucky cursed himself, this was jealousy.
Shifting in his seat so he wouldn’t have to witness you with that dunce, Bucky brought the beer bottle to his lips and, in one sip, finished what was left of his drink. He then paid the tab and was about to stand when a hand gently squeezed his shoulder, grabbing his attention.
“Sorry about that,” you said and he forced a smile.
“No need, darlin’,” Bucky reassured, hoping the tone of his voice didn’t betray him, although, judging by the elated look on your face, he had nothing to worry about. Your thoughts were focused entirely on something…  else.
“I was actually just about to leave,” he added and got to his feet. “Didn’t wanna disturb your conversation.”
You furrowed your brows. “What? No, don’t go,” you implored, sliding your hand from his shoulder down his leather covered arm until your fingers reached the hem of his jacket.
Bucky held his breath as you gripped the material, the softness of your skin just barely brushing against him.
“He gave me his number so I’ll call him later if I feel like it.”
“You stay,” he demanded, “I’ll go. There is something I gotta take care of anyway and I don’t wanna ruin your evening.”
Pursing your lips together, you eyed him suspiciously, scanning every inch of his face for any tale of dishonesty. See, during the time the two of you have spent in each other's company, you have gotten quite good at reading your brooding neighbour, despite his closed off demeanour. Which is how you could clearly see there was something bothering him.
However, you have also come to learn when to stop pushing him and give him space.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Bucky repeated and shooting you one last congenial smile, he walked towards the exit.
You watched him leave, his figure disappearing in the shadows of the rainy New York night. Inhaling a quick breath, you returned to the guy you were chatting with just moments prior, and four drinks later, you stopped thinking about Bucky.
Albeit just for the night.
The next morning you wound up at his door, as usual. When he didn’t immediately answer, you retreated back into your own apartment without giving it a second thought because it was definitely like Bucky to ignore you from time to time.
That afternoon you knocked on his door again, and you repeated the action after returning from work over the next four days — still no Bucky. And because he was also not answering his phone when you called or replied to any of your texts, the worry suddenly spread through your veins making you nauseous. 
Feeling conflicted about what to do next (since it wasn’t like you knew anyone else in his life you could reach out to) you decided to distract yourself any way you knew how, hoping one day the grumpy brunette would simply show up at your door as if nothing happened.
Unfortunately for you, keeping your mind from wandering about your blue-eyed neighbour proved harder than you wanted it to be and it wasn’t until a few weeks after you last saw Bucky, the perfect distraction finally made an appearance.
You often debated adopting a pet but your landlord didn’t allow any animals which seemed like reason enough. Now, you were standing face to face with what was perhaps the most beautiful cat you had ever seen, and as you cautiously approached it, the white feline inclined towards you, allowing you to gently run your fingers through its fur and eventually pick it up.
While carrying the cat to your apartment, you researched vet clinics in the area and promptly made an appointment for that same afternoon. Turns out your new furry friend was a she and the epitome of health, making you think there was someone out there missing her immensely.
While at work, you printed out flyers with a picture you took of her and your phone number at the bottom, before dropping them around town during lunch.
For about a week, you waited. Waited for your cell to buzz but no one ever called.
“Alone together, huh…” you murmured, gently running your fingers through her soft fur, “Guess I should give you a name then. Can’t keep calling you cat, you deserve better, don’t you think?”
She purred in response, as if she understood every word you just said, and you couldn’t help but smile.
The next couple of days were spent brainstorming potential names although nothing you came up with seemed to stick because either you didn’t entirely like it or she didn’t respond to it — mostly the latter.
“You’re so stubborn,” you tittered, watching her lick her paw, “I should call you ‘Bucky’.” The name escaped your lips and you immediately froze, your mood dampening.
That night you didn’t sleep. Tossing and turning all night, thinking about the blue-eyed man for the first time since the cat has entered your life.
Stirring sugar into your coffee the following morning, Bucky still occupied your thoughts. 
There was something about him you couldn’t quite shake. Despite the majority of the people in your life being there longer than your super soldier neighbour, the connection you two shared, well you couldn’t really explain it. Bucky just made you feel… different.
Frankly, you hated yourself for becoming so codependent on another human. Sure you had a good group of friends and even enjoyed the company of a couple of your colleagues, but no one meant as much to you as James Barnes.
The cat snuggled into your leg, purring softly. You tilted your head down to look at her, her blue eyes reminiscent of Bucky’s, and a defeated sigh escaped your lips.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you whispered and she blinked. For a moment you wondered if she sensed the growing sadness in your heart. You remember reading how pets can detect human emotion, which is why they provide so much comfort, but you had a hard time believing it, until now.
The corner of your mouth twitched upwards, shifting your expression into a half-smile. You were about to say something when a distinct jingle of keys drew your attention.
It couldn’t be, you thought and hastily dropped the teaspoon into the sink before heading for your front door.
At first you were almost certain you were seeing a ghost, pale and dishevelled. Then, for a brief second, you didn’t really know who you were looking at. An intruder or someone new moving in perhaps? (A lot of possibilities although you only wanted one to be true.)
It wasn’t until the person turned around, eyes meeting yours instantly, you realised it really was him.
Bucky was back. Unexpectedly. The exact same way he disappeared.
“Hey,” he greeted sheepishly.
Your first instinct was to get angry, but the longer you stared at him, heart thumping, the more you knew that wasn’t the rational thing to do. Anger wouldn’t solve anything, it wouldn’t answer any questions. And you had a lot of questions.
The next thought that ran through your mind was to throw your arms around his neck and nuzzle yourself into his embrace because you missed him goddamnit.
“I-I…”
While you debated exactly how to react and what to say to him, your furry friend squeezed between your legs. The quiet meows grabbed your attention momentarily along with the attention of the brunette man.
With a shaky hand, you lifted the cat up before meeting Bucky’s gaze once again.
“I-I got a pet,” you blurted out, immediately regretting it because what a lame thing to say to someone you genuinely thought you would never see again.
He cleared his throat and responded, “I can see that.” Pause. “What’s um, what’s his name?”
“Her name,” you corrected, “And to be honest she still doesn’t really have one. I’ve just been calling her random things to see what would suit.”
Biting on the inside of his cheek, Bucky fought back a smirk.
“That’s definitely unique,” he commented.
“Don’t tease me, James.”
Just as the two of you returned to your usual banter, silence surrounded once again when his name escaped your lips. An apologetic look spread across Bucky’s features and he took a step in your direction.
“I’m sorry.”
Bucky decided quite early on into his friendship with you that he would do anything to keep you out of harm's way. When his feelings towards you transformed from general fondness into something much stronger, he decided the best way to keep the promise he made to himself would be to distance himself, (at least until said feelings faded).
He never planned on leaving. He simply wanted to make himself unavailable some evenings or weekends, come up with lame excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out. But the night Bucky left you at the bar, returning to his sad apartment alone, he switched on the TV. Suddenly, he needed to visit Sam. He figured you would understand. He never planned being away for so long. He never planned on leaving you behind without so much as an “I’ll be back”.
Looking at you now however, bottom lip quivering and tears in your eyes, he fucked up. He should have at least answered your calls and texts. 
You sniffled. The cat, which was now half-resting on your shoulder, alerted immediately to the gentle sound of your undeniable sadness and rubbed its paw against your face.
“Uhm…” you cleared your throat, “I-I should go feed her.”
Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek and nodded. He didn’t want you to leave yet, there was so much he had to say, a lot to explain. 
“Right, of course,” he uttered almost sheepishly, “Maybe later if you have some time we can—”
“Maybe,” you cut him off and did a u-turn back into your apartment, “Welcome back, James.”
-
The next couple of weeks passed uneventfully.
And no, you weren’t avoiding Bucky. Not entirely. It just so happened that every time you had to leave, you did so via the fire escape as opposed to your front door, and every time you heard him out in the hallway, you switched everything off and held your breath, pretending you weren’t home.
You rationalised your behaviour as necessary. It wasn’t avoidance. It was… self preservation. He hurt your feelings when he left. You couldn’t just let him waltz back into your life as if nothing happened, opening yourself up for pain yet again.
Bucky was understanding of your unspoken request to be left the fuck alone. He knew he screwed up but he wasn’t sure how to make things better. All he wanted was to see you smile, and be the reason for it. How could the two of you get to that point when the couple of times you bumped into one another it was awkward?
Was it going to be like this forever?
Luckily, you had your cat to keep you distracted. 
Despite not being named yet, she brightened your mornings and had a calming effect in the evenings. She sat at your feet while you were baking and purred into your chest when you were taking a nap. She followed you around the apartment like a trusted companion, even sitting on the bathroom floor while you showered.
So it was strange when one morning she wasn’t in your bed and it was even stranger when you didn’t hear her tapper around the apartment while you were getting ready. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of your stomach when you called her for breakfast by the various names you’ve so far come up with — no response.
By the time you had searched around your whole apartment, you were already late for work. At that point you were thinking you couldn’t go in anyway, your fucking cat was missing. One quick “I think I have food poisoning.” call later, you unlock your laptop in search for the flyers you made when you found her. Tears formed in your eyes while adjusting the title from ‘IS THIS YOUR CAT?’ to ‘HAVE YOU SEEN MY CAT?.
That’s when you knew you couldn’t do this alone.
A short two minutes later, your knuckles are pressed against the wooden door of your neighbours apartment. One, two, three gentle knocks later, and Bucky is standing in front of you.
“I need your help,” is all you managed to blurt out. It’s all you needed to say, really. Bucky doesn’t need any further explanation when it comes to you. He grabbed his jacket and followed you without question.
When you showed him the poster on your laptop screen, he reassured you in a calm tone. One that almost makes you believe him. One that almost makes you forget that he’s left you all alone, without a word. Almost.
“When did you last see her?” Bucky asked.
When you shrugged your shoulders in a defeated manner, he sighed softly and without really thinking about where your friendship currently stood, wrapped his strong arms around you. The second his frame closed around yours, you burst into tears, face pressed against his chest as he held you close, consoling you.
The world seems to come to a stand still at that moment.
You’re not sure how long the two of you stood there. Seconds, minutes. He did, however, manage to calm you down, bringing the waterfall to barely a trickle as you sniffled against his t-shirt.
When Bucky eventually dropped his arms, you avoided his gaze. Scared to admit out loud how good that felt and how glad you were he was here for you, since he’s hurt you once when you became too attached, and you weren’t going to let him do it again.
“How about you stay here, in case she comes back, and I’ll go search for her outside?” Bucky suggested, dipping his head to try and meet your teary eyes. His hand is on your shoulder, barely holding on as if he was afraid you would suddenly flinch and pull away — which he most definitely was.
All you did was nod, and as he headed out the door, a quiet “thank you” escaped your lips.
“Anything for you, darlin’.” Is what you think you heard, but the tone of Bucky’s voice is so quiet, you rationalised that you heard wrong.
The day was spent wandering aimlessly around your apartment, checking your phone every two minutes to see if Bucky had had any updates on the whereabouts of your little pet. He had not.
By the time the sky turned dusky dark, you had lost all hope. She’d never be found. It was as if the universe only meant for you to be together while Bucky was away. You couldn’t have both. That would be too good, too lucky.
But just as you were about to start crying again, a glass of cheap wine in hand, the doorknob rattled and seconds later, in walked Bucky, holding your precious feline friend in his metal arm.
“Oh my god,” you exhaled as relief took over your entire body.
You ambled forward, reaching for the cat in Bucky’s grasp as she meowed uncontrollably, seemingly happy to see you. And Bucky smiled as he watched you snuggle into the white creature, heartbeat growing tenfold with every tick of the clock.
“She uh,” he began as you moved across your apartment, settling down on the couch, “She’s quite the climber, that one. After a day of searching half of Brooklyn, I eventually found her on the rooftop of this very building.”
“Thank you,” you said without averting your gaze from your furry white friend.
What he wanted to say is, “Just glad I could be here for you,” but what he uttered instead was, “Don’t mention it, darlin’.”
For a moment, Bucky hovered in your entryway, unsure whether you wanted him to leave now or if he could stay, just like he did many times before. He decided to not push it. Decided it’s best for the longevity of your friendship to not force anything with you, especially since the strong feelings he had for you before he left have only increased in the time apart — complete opposite of what he wanted to happen.
So he turned on his heel, but just as he was about to say goodnight, you turned your attention to where he stood and waved him over.
“Stay,” you requested, “The least I can do as a thank you is order us some takeout.”
“You don’t have to do that, darlin’.”
“I want to,” you said honestly, hoping he can detect your sincerity, “Stay, please. I-I let you walk away once before and ended up not seeing you for months.”
He swallowed, but didn’t say anything.
“Please stay. I want you to stay, James.”
-
The morning light trickled in through your half-opened curtains, causing your eyes to open slightly and take in your usual surroundings. Except these weren’t entirely your usual surroundings. There was one thing different this Saturday morning as compared to others.
Bucky was still asleep, covered loosely by one of your many blankets. His chest heaved softly, quiet breathes escaping through his parted lips. He looked so peaceful sleeping in your bed, sleeping next to you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight before you.
You shifted to your side and slowly trailed your gaze along his pretty perfect features, focusing on the details you’ve honestly never noticed before. The scruff perfectly angling his jawline, the little crinkles in the corner of his eyes showcasing how he’s aged over the years, barely noticeable but still present.
Then the cat made an appearance, jumping on the bed, settling between you and the super soldier. Before you got a chance to shush it, not wanting to wake Bucky up, she purred against his shoulder.
A smile crept up on his features at the contact. Seconds later, he opened his eyes before slowly tilting his head to first look at the pet, then at you.
“Good mornin’.”
“Hey.”
There’s a moment of silence during which you two simply stare at one another. Time seemed to have come to a standstill. The blue of his eyes piercing, searching your gaze for what, neither of you were really sure. All you both knew was the longer you remained this way, the more your hearts swelled.
Bucky was suddenly feeling nervous, as were you.
“Thank you for staying,” you eventually whispered.
“Thank you for asking me to stay,” he replied.
Another second of silence. 
There was so much Bucky wanted to tell you, but the words were stuck in his throat because how can someone go from avoiding, leaving without a word, to admitting that they cannot live without the other person. And that’s exactly how he was feeling. He’s come to terms with it now. He couldn’t live without you.
Would you even feel the same? He wouldn’t expect you to. In fact, he would think you’d want to remain a little distant given everything that’s happened. But then again, if that’s how you felt, then why would you ask him to stay?
Maybe you just needed the extra push, same as him.
“Think you should name her Alpine,” Bucky suggested, one hand rubbing the cat that was now sitting on his chest, while the other reached for your fingers. Slow, but not hesitant. 
“Alpine,” you tested the name on your lips. “I like that.”
You take his hand then, intertwining your fingers together without commenting on the fact. He squeezed gently, testing the waters further, and you squeezed back — again, both of you choosing not to say anything about the physical interaction.
“Did you have any plans for today?” Bucky asked and you shook your head. “So, would you eh, would you wanna go somewhere?”
The smile on your lips widened.
“We do have a lot of catching up to do, neighbour.” A modest tease. One you hope won’t ruin the moment, or the day ahead.
He just chuckled, mimicking your expression and making any worries disappear just as fast as they threatened to break through.
“That we do, darlin’.” Pause. “I’m sorry for messing it all up. I promise to make it up to you, starting today.”
Taking his apology in, you let go of his hand, instantly missing his touch. Bucky was too, but he didn't get to completely register just how much because you shuffled closer to where he lay, closing the gap between you.
One arm extended towards his chest, resting gently as your fingers brushed a now sleeping Alpine, and also grazed against Bucky’s own in the process. The thudding of your heart inside your chest was most likely loud enough for him to hear — it was. He focused on it, the beating, and it calmed him entirely.
Your aura calmed him. It has since day one and he hoped it would until the end of his days on this Earth.
Yes, Bucky was more than attached to you.
Luckily, the feeling was mutual.
Sealed with a soft kiss.
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as always, thank you so so much for reading, and please reblog to tell me what you think! <3
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vase-of-lilies · 11 months
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Efforts to Make Amends
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❀ Tfatws!Bucky x Mom!reader (f)
❀ Non-con and rape (DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE IT), past abuse, past parental abuse, mentions of captivity, fluff, childbirth, some suicidal ideation (but no actions), taking of virginity, some after sex bleeding, talking badly about a baby, pregnancy, dad bucky 🥺 (if there is anything else, PLEASE let me know!)
❀ Word Count: 6.3k
❀ A/N: This came to mind when I was just thinking about Buck:) I don’t know if this is already a concept, but if it is here is my take on it! :D
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The cry of the newborn baby sent shivers down your spine. Not a scared shiver, or a nervous shiver. Just a shiver. You are her mother now, and you can not let this baby down. You won’t let this baby down. As the nurse gently handed the bundle of joy over to you in a pink blanket, you laid eyes on the most beautiful little thing in the world. With her eyes barely open to see, her blue eyes stared back into your own. 
Tears filled your eyes as you held her to your chest, her babbles slowly dying down to soft breaths. You smiled down at the tiny human in your arms, clutching onto your finger softly. You heard the heart monitor go off, and you immediately held your daughter tighter in your arms. Not wanting to let her go, not for one second. Your OB/GYN entered the room, smiling brightly with the paperwork of your brand new baby. 
“All is well with your little girl. I’ll let you decide on a name and we can fill out this boring stuff.” She chuckles and sits next to you on the bed. 
“Oh, I really like this one.” She hums softly at the baby names in question. She points to the fourth one on the list that you made on a piece of paper. “Clarisse” is the name she chose. It was your mother's name. Bright, shining, gentle, and brave. She was your advocate through the years you were held captive by your own father. 
Of course the circumstances of how this child came into this world is not how you imagined it, you are still eternally grateful to have her in your life. 
It was at this moment you knew all too well what you had to do. You had to start brand new; New name, address, hair color. Everything you can to stay away from the life you were forced into as a child. Going by the name Carla, you set off out of the police station with your new ID, and a new life ahead of you. You couldn’t hold back the smile that had formed on your face by the time you made it to the bus stop. 
Paying the bus driver, you sat down on the bench by the window. Carefully holding your newborn baby to your chest, you stare out the window at the passing cars, buildings, and people. All making their way home from work or even to work. Even the people who call themselves “superheroes” have a home to go to, don’t they? No matter where you go, you know you have to provide what's best for this baby. The police were some help, getting you your ID, colored contacts as well as a wig and a new passport. But it was a long, aggravating process. With every woman looking at your baby with prying eyes, getting ready to let their lips loose in the daily office gossip session. 
Finally, it was time to leave. It was time to leave the life you were previously living, and set off on a new adventure with a new companion.
~~~~~~~
Arriving at the airport, you follow the directions to buy a ticket to Spain. With what little Spanish you knew was not the problem at this point. It was getting away from a crime populated city such as New York. The culture, the people, and the ocean around the country felt like the safest option. 
“ID, ma’am.” You heard the woman at the desk say. Pulling out your ID, you make sure it is your new one. This has a special hidden key trustworthy people can scan that tells them you are a witness in protection. They are very caring with you, and question nothing if you hesitate with your new name. “Carla Davenport. Date of birth November eighteenth.” Fuck! What's the year?? “Year?” The woman asks. “U-uhm, 2001...” You almost say it as a question, but the woman smiles and hands you back your ID. 
“Enjoy Spain!” She says from the desk, and onto security you go.
~~~~~~~
The plane ride was long, and agonizing with how anxious you were. But Clarisse easily soothed your nerves. The looks people gave you were noticeable, and the last few people to board on the plane seemed reluctant to sit next to you. A newborn on a plane is someone's worst nightmare. But Clarisse was a sleepy girl, and slept a majority of the flight. The moments she did start to cry, you knew she either had to be changed, or was hungry. Once you went to the bathroom, you sat on the toilet and began to breastfeed your little girl.
The mirror that was across from you, a woman you barely recognized stared back. False black-dyed locks fell around an exhausted, hurt, and abused mother. There wasn’t much that stared back. You peeled your eyes away from the mirror, and pinned them back on your little girl. Clarisse was enjoying her milk, and was soon going to fall into a milk coma. You just knew it. 
Sighing as you sit back down, you look back out the window. The night sky was absolutely beautiful at this time, and you loved what it looked like. Even though Clarisse was asleep, you still pointed out the lights along the coast that shaped the continent of Africa, and soon to the lights that covered Madrid. Your new home town. 
As the plane landed, you stopped at the gift shop to get a Spanish-to-English dictionary to start learning. Also stopping at a small convenience store in the airport, you exchanged all of your US dollars to Euros and bought some diapers and a diaper bag as well. It was the small things that the program didn’t provide that seemed to be the biggest issues for you. But you were grateful for the small apartment they found, and even more grateful that they provided rent for the first year of living there. 
Getting a job will be difficult, but you knew that you would figure it out somehow. With how populated the world is, there is bound to be an English speaking job for you out there. But that was the least of your worries right now. What you needed the most was food, sleep, and a warm blanket for you and Clarisse. All that you needed for a couple nights was already at the apartment, and you were eternally grateful. 
Finally getting to the small one bedroom apartment, you immediately lock the door behind you, and set off to the small bedroom. There is a mattress on the floor as well as a few blankets and a pillow, but other than that nothing much else. It was simple, and you liked it. Just for you and your little girl. You smiled as you saw the view out the window. The beautiful city lights shone through the fire escape balcony, giving a soft glow in the bedroom. It felt safe. 
Getting out a diaper and some wipes, you begin to change Clarisse. “I know sweet girl, it’s been a long day.” You whisper, giving soft kisses to her face as she babbles into the open air. “Are you gonna sleep well tonight? Hm? Or are you gonna keep me up?” You chuckle at the small girl in front of you, and you softly tickle her sides. Her incoherent giggles are music to your ears, and it is nothing like you have ever heard before. “You are so beautiful my little flower.” You smile, nuzzling your nose against hers softly.
After getting Clarisse all settled, you decided to move the mattress just under the window to get the perfect view of the night sky. You lay your head on the pillow, a feeling you haven’t felt in a very long time. Your little girl snuggled right up next to you, and stared up at the sky as well. You knew she would grow up to be the best little girl there is, and there is no doubt about that.
~~~~~~~
Sweat covered your forehead as you ran through the cold Russian woods. Barely escaping the Hydra base with your ankles not broken. You kept running until you knew you were far enough away to take a breath. But oh... were you wrong. The Winter Soldier was right behind you, every step of the way. It almost felt like he was in the trees, stalking your every move just like your father had conditioned him to. 
The man was silent as he looked for you, but the silence screamed death. You were terrified, and rightfully so. Even trying to hold your breath so no one could see it, including you, was one of the only options to stay hidden. Besides trying to hide within the trees, and snow on the ground. It was hopeless. You could already hear the crunching of the snow underneath the heavy combat boots of the Winter Soldier coming your way. 
This was it, you were going to die. You never knew why your father kept you in the base, but he would not be disappointed to hear that you were gone for good. Maybe it was for the best. No one would have to worry about keeping you silent, or contained. With the secrets you know, you could uncover the world's most dangerous criminals, documents, and codes to plenty of nuclear energy. But you swore to your mother you would never tell a soul. She loved her husband and her daughter equally, but her caring nature made her keep the world she lived in safe. 
You were in your thoughts for too long. ‘Fuck-’ you suck in a breath, not moving an inch as you feel the cold blade barely cut into your neck. “Please...” you couldn’t believe you were begging for mercy, but you were strong. You had to stay alive; for your mother. “Cooperate and I won’t kill you...” the soldier said in a dark voice. You didn’t understand why he wasn’t going to kill you. 
Instead of questioning him, you gave a small nod. “Good girl.” He whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine. Soon the cold spread from your arms all the way down to your most intimate parts. He had sliced away at your thin hospital-like gown, and stripped you bare. You couldn’t do anything with a knife to your neck so you stayed still. “Please d-don’t, I-I’ll go back wi-with you, just p-please!” You quietly beg him, but he has already stripped himself of his own tactical pants. 
He ignored your pleas, commanding you “Be a good girl and lay on your back...” A whimper left your throat and you froze. “N-no.” You stated, calmly. Instant regret filled your veins as he swiped his foot underneath yours and you fell to the ground. Your head hit a root sticking out from the ground and your vision was rendered blurry. “P-please...” Your attempt of a small plea exited your mouth, but you gave up. 
His veiny, god-like sculpted cock filled your cunt to the brim. You tried to scream, but nothing would come out. He started to thrust, and thrust, and thrust. It felt like it never ended. His blue eyes stared into your dull y/e/c eyes with no emotion or mercy. He was told to do this to you, and it traumatized you. With no luck, you tried to push him away but he was quick to pin your hands above your head with his strong arms. One metal, one flesh. 
“It's ok... just take it...” Was he trying to comfort you? 
“I- I can’t...” 
“You will.” That was the very last thing before you were left in darkness, unconscious and barely alive. 
~~~~~~~
Clarisse lets out a small cry, waking you up instantly. “Hey sweet pea, shh shh mommas got you.” You whisper to her, gently rocking her in your arms. You didn’t know what time it was, but you knew for sure you only slept a wink. You stayed up the rest of the night, helping her to sleep, feeding her every now and then, and getting only some sleep yourself. You were more than happy to stay awake for her, and that was a sacrifice you were willing to take. 
Once the sun started to come up, you yawned and decided to see what snacks you had brought from the airport. Some ChexMix and an apple was enough until you gathered enough courage to go grocery shopping. It had to be about 9:00 once Clarisse started to wake up. Swaying her as she drank from your breast, you hummed her a soft song and smiled from above her. As she drank, you began to grab what money you had, Charisse's baby bag and a face mask just in case someone did end up recognizing you. It would be lethal to have anyone from Hydra even know you exist. 
~~~~~~~
Bucky POV:
Of course I regret everything. I have to live with what I have done every day of my life, and deep down I know that I can’t blame myself for my actions. It’s not something to get used to. Some would say that I have gotten used to hearing the last breath come from someone's gurgling throat. Some would say that “he likes to watch them die.” But in truth, nothing is worse than seeing someone's life drain from their eyes just like a painting being washed away; the paint clinging to life to stay on the canvas but the water just too damn strong. 
A victim I remember very clearly, said whilst looking through the barrel of my gun “Fools make romance of death, for it is brutal and cruel. That I say be at peace with my passing is not such a thing. But once it is done, I will be safe and sound once more. I will live as long as I can, be with you as many days as we are sent, then keep me in your memories. I will see you again. That is a promise.” He was right, I would see him again. Not in heaven, or hell where I belong. But in my nightmares every single night. Therapy can only do so much for a broken, lost and helpless soldier. Let alone a 106 year old one. 
However, I was slowly making amends with the people who were fortunately left alive. Yori Nakasima, the sweet old man I have lunch with every Tuesday is just an example. He was not a victim, but his son was. He was caught at the wrong place at the wrong time, and in turn he fell straight to the line of fire. My line of fire. No matter how much I try, I can never expel the begging that came from his mouth. He was innocent and had absolutely nothing to do with that mission. Simply… a loose knot that had to be tied tight. Yori and I went our own ways, and it makes me happy to see him still go to the same restaurant every Tuesday. He may not remember our conversation, but rest assured he can sleep knowing what happened to his son. 
One more name.
One more name and I can throw this damned book away.
Y/n Y/L/n. 
Y/n has been on this list for four to eight months now. Her name staring back at me with anger and regret. God why did her own father make me do this? Thoughts were racing through my head as I searched for Y/n, but nothing came up besides death certificates. She can’t be dead. She has to be alive, I know that she got out of there alive… Going deep into police, military and FBI/CIA records, along with the witness protection program as a sergeant, I was able to find someone by the name of Carla Davenport. I obviously knew this was wrong, and I was mostly doing this for myself. But there was one part of me that wanted to tell her that she is safe, and that she could finally rest with her guard down. 
Doing further research, I finally came across an address. I lucked out by being in Madrid at the time with Zemo and Sam while I did my research. All I had left was to confront her and tell her my intentions. Knowing Y/n, she would be feisty, careful but most likely fearless. I know her, and she would fight with every last cell of energy in her body to win. I slightly jump as I hear my phone buzz and I answer Sam.
“Hey Sam.” I said, jotting down Y/n’s new address. I heard a sigh on the other line, and I knew I was in for something. 
“I got a call from a CIA agent who found a breach in the witness protection program. Was that you?” Sam replies. 
“Uh, why would you think it would be me? I have no reason to be on that site in the first place.” Seriously? What kind of answer was that?? “Dr. Raynor told me you needed to find some people… Buck come on man, we could have done this together.” 
“Whatever happened to patient privacy? I found what I needed, so can I log out and be on my way?”
“Listen, I know you’re hurting. Especially over Y/n. I'll help you find her, but can we please do it the legal way?” He sounded convincing enough that he actually wanted to help, but I knew that it was just a ploy. Or, maybe that was my irrational thoughts talking for me.
“I’ve gotta do this on my own. She is the last one before I can finally go out and live how I want to. She will determine if I deserve to be free.” There was silence for a short period of time, and then another soft sigh from the man on the other line. 
“Alright, fine. But if I get one more phone call telling me you did something illegal, you’re kicked off my team for charades, and you are going to talk with Dr. Raynor. Do you understand?” 
I chuckled at his threat, and I nodded to myself. “Yeah, Sam. I understand. I wouldn’t want to bother Captain America with calls from random CIA agents about the site of witnesses in protection. This is honestly something Raynor should have let me do. She was the one who told me to “use your resources'' where there was nothing else to use. Anyway, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow.” 
“See you tomorrow Buck. Have a good night.” 
Hanging up the phone, I sigh and I finish writing down the information from the website. Now that I knew where she lived, it would then be the hard part of everything. Telling her what I did, and apologizing for it. 
~~~~~~~
Your POV:
It had now been three full weeks of living in Madrid and you were living your best life! You had a desk job dealing with English complaints for a website that was fully in Spanish, and your little girl could be with you all day long. Being able to earn a stable living was nice in such a large and new country. Also with your new way of life, you were not living off of ramen and buttered toast. You were able to make full meals with fresh ingredients from the finest vendors just down the street from your apartment. Steamed vegetables, freshly cooked meat that only needed a little bit of heating in the oven and your own seasonings and finally the glorious, melt-in-your-mouth Churros con Chocolate was what you were blessed with for dessert. It was heaven, and you were living in it with such happiness. 
Clarisse is now one month old, and has been a little more aware of what she can do with her body. Even at this young age, she knows who you are and who you are to her. Soon she’ll be running around on two healthy legs with energy skyrocketing every second. Watching her grow up is the highlight of your life, and you never wanted it to end. Her eyes would scan each room you went through, each aisle you walked down, and even grabbed up at you from your arms as you made your way down to the baby section. Clothes, shoes, food. Clothes, shoes, food. All you needed was those three things, and you would be on your way. 
It was a relief that you had not encountered a challenge by anyone. Not when little Clarisse cried for a little bit, and not even when the panic set in at the sound of the bustling cars outside the store. It was a success, and you could not wait to get home. Checking out with ease, you held Clarisse close to you as you took your groceries in the small basket on the back of your bike, and strapped the little girl into her car seat carrier on the front of your bike. “All safe and sound, my sweet girl,” You whisper, gently putting her blanket over her. On the way back to your apartment, you followed the same route to and from. Two lefts, a right, up the hill and to the left. It was almost a song you replayed over and over in your head, just to help you get home. Just like your mother taught you;
Down the hall and to the left, a little bit longer, up the stairs and in my arms you go! This song was to navigate the hallways of the large house your father had bought your family before he decided to keep you as his own lab rat. 
Once you made it into the safe walls of your home, the lock was the first thing in place after putting your bike inside. Clarrise still strapped in her seat, you rolled the bike to the far wall of your kitchen. The babbling baby in her carrier made you smile as she reached out to you, her feet kicking in excitement as she made eye contact. 
Holding your little girl felt so right, yet so wrong at the same time. Not only was this life forced upon you, but this baby took everything from you. Your passion for dancing and painting, your want to go to college, desire to learn and grow. This creature that is in need of so much care and attention took all of that from you. But so did he. He hurt you the most. 
Every day memories flow through your brain like a movie projecting onto a loosely hanging sheet. Warped, but clear for a person to know what happened. It was your duty to Clarrise that she did not know your past, and that she was brought into this life in a way that is a crime. And she never had to know. Having her not grow up with a father was a sacrifice you were willing to take to keep her protected from the pain you went through.
Your alarm on your phone went off, and you sat down on the couch to feed Clarrise. As you unclipped your padded bra, you froze at the sound of a knock came from the front door. Luckily Clarrise didn’t seem too hungry at the moment, so you slowly approached the door. You looked through the peep hole and saw a man. He had short brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He looked… gentle. 
As you held your child close to your chest you slowly opened the door.
“Can I help you?” 
He looked down at you, a hight difference clearly present. He smiled at the small child in your arms and responded to your question. “Im looking for Carla. Does she live here?” 
You nod and say “I am her, is there something I can do for you?” You ask again, wanting a reason for the sudden visit from this man. He looked back to your face and you made eye contact with him, it was his eyes that looked so familiar. 
“Right, I just moved in down the hall way and wanted to introduce myself. Im James Barnes, and I’m from 107, that way.” He pointed down the hall way and you followed his finger. You nodded with a smile. “Well, its nice to meet you James. Would you like to come in? I was just about to feed this little one, but if you don’t feel comfortable with breast feeding, you don’t have to come in.”
You invite him in, not thinking of the dangers or intents of this man. He kindly accepts and enters your small apartment. Offering him a seat on the couch, you sit down opposite from him in the rocking chair. Putting a cover over Clarrise, you begin to feed her, the milk coming from your breasts entering her mouth as she begins to feed. 
“What brings you to Spain? I don’t know a lot of English speakers here besides the land lord.” You say, wanting to start conversation. He nods and shrugs, smiling softly. 
“I just needed a change of scenery, thats all.” He keeps his answer simple, not knowing how to bring himself to tell you what he did. 
“Have I seen you around? You seem very familiar, maybe in the market?” You ask, knowing you have seen him somewhere. 
This was his chance, this is the time to tell her. 
“No, I don’t think it was in the market,” He says in a sad tone. “It was a while back, I- um, I worked with Hydra. For your father. A-and I was ordered to do something very harmful to you, and I believe it was the result of- of her…” He slowly explains as he takes off his glove, revealing his metal hand. 
Your heart drops, the puzzle piece finally fitting in the right place in your mind. Tears pool in your eyes as you look from his eyes to his hand. The metal one. The memories come flooding back to your head, the nightmares, the feelings, and the eyes. His eyes, those got forbidden eyes. As cold as ice, yet as blue as the ocean of where you pictured yourself at the time of his assault. 
"I am only here to apologize. I am not asking for forgiveness. I am no longer the winte-”
“Why,” you cut him off. “Why did you do it?” Your voice cracks, many emotions coming through your gritted teeth. 
His eyes softened at your broken voice, and he sighs softly looking down at his hand. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“What did my father do? What did he do to you?” You ask, pity also filling your voice as you too know what horrors other prisoners went through. You felt bad, even for him. You tear your eyes away from him, moving them to your baby, his baby. 
“He did horrible things, but nothing compares to what he did to you. What he made me do to you. I- Im so sorry Y/n…” He takes the risk of saying your name, not expecting anything from it. 
“What are you doing here, James? What do you expect me to do?” I ask, trying to understand why he is here. “Did you come to finish the job?” You ask the question that dreaded your mind the moment he told you who he was. 
“No, not at all. I actually came here to offer protection. But I understand if you want nothing to do with me or the life you had to endure when under the horrors of Hydra.”
You considered. You actually considered letting him stay and try to protect you. “What or who am I in danger of?” You counter his offer, trying to prove something but unsure of what. You sigh and shake your head. “Forget about it. Im in the witness protection program, so protection shouldn’t be a problem.” 
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Carla. How do you think I found you?” He asks, exposing what he did to find you. 
Your brows furrowed and you glared at him. “I see.”
You didn’t engage anymore, you were numb and didn’t know how to feel about the situation. You felt violated all over again, by the same man. “Leave. Please just go.” You whisper, tears falling freely down your cheeks. Once Clarrise was done eating, you clipped your breast back into your bra and stood up. You didn’t notice James put a card on your coffee table as he made his way to your door. 
“I understand your fears. I hope you have found safety in Spain, Carla.” He said emotionlessly, actually understanding your fears. As he went back to his apartment which he did actually buy, he sighed and shut the door. 
As he dialed the only phone number he actually knew, he slid down the door and sat against it as the line rung. He closed his eyes and let his head hit the door. 
“Hey, you’ve reached Sam Wilson, Trauma counselor at the department of veterans affairs. Please leave a message and I will call you back when I’m free. Thanks!”
“Sam, It’s done. She- She’s crossed off the list.” 
~~~~~~~
Hours had passed by the time you could even speak. “How could he have found us?” You ask as you bounce Clarrise in your arms. The sleeping little girl in your arms was clueless to your question, hopefully dreaming of running free and not in hiding anymore. “My god, maybe it would be good to have protection…” 
You were talking to Clarrise as if she understood, but you knew she didn’t. You give her head a small kiss, looking in the direction of the coffee table in the middle of your small living room. An index card sat on the corner, scribbled on it was a phone number and a sloppy “107” on the bottom. You knew who this was from. 
You sighed and sat on the couch, cuddling your baby close to your chest, clutching her as if she would disappear. Staring at the piece of paper in your hands you contemplate calling him, contemplating on apologizing. Apologizing on your fathers behalf. 
Before you could stop yourself, you reached for your phone and dialed the number. 
~~~~~~~
Bucky jumped at the ring of his cell phone. He instantly recognized the number from the witness protection program website. 
“Hello?”
You took a few seconds before talking. “I know you know who this is. I’m making dinner a-and was wondering if you would like to join me?”
Bucky was taken a back by the sudden invitation, “Oh, sure I would love to. What time should I be there?” 
Responding rather quickly, you said, “Now?”
Before he could say anything, you had hung up and began making dinner. Boiling water for the noodles, opening up some seasonings you had just bought and putting the bread in the oven, you were ready for James. 
He knocked on your door and you put Clarrise in her bassinet in the living room, keeping an eye on her as you cooked. As you opened the door, you smiled softly at James. Instead of fearing him, you wrap your arms around him. He freezes, not yet used to such a gentle gesture from someone. 
As you sigh into him, he returns the hug and softly wraps his arms around you too. “Im so sorry James. Im sorry for everything my father did to you…” You know you shouldn’t have to apologize, but you can’t help but feel obligated knowing what James went through. 
“No, you have nothing to apologize for. It was and never will be your fault. Do you understand me?” James said, giving you a soft squeeze. 
You nod silently in response, and you gently pull away; tears falling from your eyes. Out of instinct, he cups your cheek and tenderly wipes the tears from your cheeks.
You lean into his benevolent touch and look up at him, a sense of security falling over yourself. Even though you knew him as the winter soldier, you knew you were safe with James. You knew that Clarrise was his child as well, and that she was safe with James. 
Gently reaching for his hand, you lead him into your home. He shuts the door behind him, and smiles as you walk to the kitchen continuing your work making dinner. You pause and look over at Clarrise who is now wide awake. 
“Do you want to meet her?” You ask, noticing James looking over at the babbling baby. 
He nods with a smile, subconsciously knowing that Clarrise is his child. As you approach the bassinet, you smile down at her. “Hi sweetheart, are you awake?” You ask in a small voice, smiling as she smiles back up at you. Picking her up, you hold her against your chest, looking to James with a smile. 
“I named her Clarrise, after my mother. Do you want to give her a middle name?” You ask, subconsciously accepting that he is her father. He looked to you and tilted his head. 
“Are you sure?” He asked, not wanting to force himself into the life you and Clarrise already have. You nod and wait for him to give an answer. “What about Sarah? After my sister?” 
Your ears perked at the word ‘sister,’ “You have a sister?” You ask with smile. 
“I had a sister. She um, she passed away a couple years ago. But she was sweet, and I think that it would be perfect for this sweet girl as well.” You smile at his suggestion and nod in approval. 
“Clarrise Sarah Barnes.” You utter, gently handing James your baby girl. “It’s ok, you won’t hurt her, I know you won’t.” Looking up at him, you can see the hesitation in his eyes. As he takes Clarrise in his arms, the connection is clear between them. A father-daughter bond that no one can just create. She was his.
“She’s beautiful, just like her mother.” He subtly compliments you, himself falling for you. This time in the form of true love, not forced love. You feel your cheeks heat up, a shy smile pulling at your lips. 
“She has her fathers eyes,” You point out Clarrise's blue eyes, still slightly forming as she grows. “And his bravery.” Adding onto her attribute, you look at James face as he interacts with the baby. 
Thinking of his preposition, you say to him, “You know, I wouldn’t mind a little protection. I-it would be nice to not feel so scared going out. Clarrise I bet would love to have her father around as well.” 
You anxiously wait for James’s reaction, hoping he doesn’t think you are moving to fast. Relief flooded your system as he nods. “I promise you, no one will hurt you. Not anymore.” He says, turning his head back to you. “I promise, Carla.”
You shake your head, and wave your hand a little bit. “Y/n is fine. Im sick of being someone Im not.”
He chuckles softly. “Trust me, I get it.” You smile and you move next to him, leaning on his strong bicep as you both look down at your beautiful baby girl. 
“James?”
“Yes, Y/n?” 
You pause.
You smile as he transfers Clarrise back into your arms. She has fallen asleep again, so you put her back in her bassinet. With the knowledge that both of her parents looking down at her, it makes you feel secure and safe. 
You turn to Bucky and look up at him, your hands coming to meet his cheeks. The proximity of the both of you made your heart beat quicker, and your mind blank. You did what you felt was right and leaned forward, connecting your lips with his. His hands hold your waist gently, and he pulls you into him. You pull away breathlessly and he kisses your temple. You move your arms around his torso, and he holds you in an embrace, his chin resting on your head.
"I’d like you to stay. Please.” You answer, a sigh of relief escaping your mouth as you feel him nod his head. 
“Of course, princess, of course.” He cradles the back of your head in his large hand and kisses your forehead once again. He may have hurt you in the past, but he’s gained a little bit of your trust. He showed you that he is sorry, and you understand that it was not his fault. In this new chapter of your life, you know you will make it far.
And so will your baby girl. 
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