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veebarnes13 · 2 days

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Melt winter away

Context: Bucky's heart is crippled by ice, it has been for so long that he doubts it will ever melt; until she brings heat into his frozen soul.

TW: slight sexual scene (detailed kissing)

Era: TFATWS

(English isn't my native language, feel free to correct me!)

Enjoy! :)

☆☆★☆☆

From the moment he had seen her, Bucky knew she was the one. On a random Wednesday, he saw her on the tip of her toes, reaching out for something on the top shelf. He knew she was the one for him. When he handed her what she was reaching for and locked eyes with her, he knew there was not anyone else than her.

It was her.

Every Wednesday night since then, they went on a date. It was their little ritual. He surprised himself circling every Wednesday on his calendar, his heart pounding at the pace of his wild thoughts.

Bucky didn't expect much of these dates at first. He thought to himself she would end up running from him because of his past, his scars, his frozen heart. Instead, she did the exact opposite.

Every Wednesday night, Bucky found his way back to her, and she welcomed him every time.

Her laugh, her smile, the spark in her eyes, her hair, her perfect face, every inch of her, changed something inside of him. He felt something change. Every second spent in her company made this feeling grow stronger until he was able to put words on it. Every little thing about her was warming up his heart. Every little thing about her made the thick ice he had been wearing for so long melt.

He was stuck between the enclosure of frost, trapped inside a prison of which he didn't have the key, and she had it. When was the last time he felt heat? Even the smallest amount of heat? He truly didn't know. All he recalled was the cold, the winter, slowly setting in, killing everything under its lethal breath. His fingers were numb from scratching in the walls surrounding him, his lungs pained him at each inspiration. No more fire, not even a spark.

But there she was, bringing with only a smile enough heat to warm up his blue fingers.

Bucky couldn't believe it. How could he? He was used to battle against his demons. Some of the scars has worn off over time, but there always were knew ones to carve his sufferance on his soul. He knew his demons by heart, still, he had no idea how to tame them. He had given up this hope - until she brought it back. Her presence kept Bucky's demons on a leash. He could breath without feeling the cold creeping in his lungs.

Rubbing shoulders with demons made him forget what angels looked like, but she reminded him.

Because she was an angel.

His angel.

Each Wednesday, Bucky battled his way back to her, back to her wide smile and her loud, beautiful laugh. He was convinced she was an angel. He could easily picture her with the softest wings, the brightest halo, her figure appearing from the lightest cloud. He didn't understand why she had left Heaven for his Hell, but she had walked in the winter as you would walk in the summer. She didn't flinch, she didn't look back. She got inside his Hell and battled for him. And each Wednesday, Bucky contemplated her angelic face, wondering how he could've been this lucky. He couldn't get tired of looking at her. It was like staring at the sun without it burning your eyes. He tried his best not to blink when he looked at her, scared she would fade away, and he'd end up waking up from a dream. It was too good to be true. She was too good to be true. But still, she came back every Wednesday.

And this very Wednesday, it had been eight weeks since they met. Eight dates. Two months.

To celebrate it, Bucky had bought the biggest flower bouquet he had found. He always gave her flowers, but never that much. He was a bit disappointed by his pick - roses -, but he knew it would mean a lot to his angel. He could've picked up tired flowers from the road and she would've smiled brightly anyway. But she was worth more than that. She was worth all the flowers on the goddamn planet.

Tonight, they were going stargazing. She had a convertible car, so she was the one picking him up, for the first time. He didn't mind. The thought of watching her drive made him smile.

As he was waiting for her to pick him up, he plucked out every single thorn from the roses with his left hand. The simple thought of her getting hurt by his fault was making his heart clench under the layers of ice. He knew he was going to harm her one day, but he wanted to push it farther, until he didn't have the strenght to anymore.

He was meant to harm things.

When she pulled into the drive, he rushed to the passenger seat before she could make a move to open the door for him. He looked at her beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking figure and face, and his stomach did the thing. It always did it around her.

"Good ev-" she started, but the sight of the flowers cut her sentence.

She widened her eyes.

"Bucky, you didn't!" she exclamed.

"I did." he replied, smiling.

She giggled as he handed her the bouquet. She buried her nose into their scent and for a split second, Bucky got terrified by the idea that he might have forgotten a thorn. But she looked back up at him without a scratch and he sighed, relieved.

"It's trice the size as those you usually buy me." she quipped.

"Maybe more twice..." he replied, smiling.

She nudged him gently, making him chuckle.

"It's... I don't have the words." she whispered.

He smiled again. God, all he did around her was act like an enamoured teenager.

"Will they last the night? Or maybe I'd better make a stop at mine to put them in a vase." she said.

"They should last. If they don't, I'll buy others." he shrugged.

"No way! I won't let you do that!" she laughed.

So she drove to hers, put the flowers in water, and got back behind the wheel. He watched her drive, his breath gone at the sight of her. When she smiled at him at a red light, he felt a jolt strike his heart, and a spark lit up in the winter ruling his soul. He couldn't believe it. She was too perfect to be true.

They finally reached their destination, the top of a hill where the light pollution from the city was the lowest in town. He rushed to her door to help her out, as the perfect gentleman he was, and grabbed her hand.

He lead her to a spot where he spread out a blanket over the damp grass and gestured her to take place. She sat down and entwined their fingers to make him join her, pulling him close. He felt the thaw inside him when she rested her head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, still holding her hand, and he held her close, his heart quickening its beats.

She pointed constellations, guessed shapes between the stars, and he listened to her yap about everything that crossed her mind. She knew he wasn't good to fill the void that silence created between them, so she made sure she always had something to say, and he felt very grateful for that.

At one point, they laid down on their back to get a better view. She held his hand tightly, not letting go at all, and he brushed her knuckles with his thumb. They stopped talking to listen to the night. The celestial vault sprawled before their eyes, not a single cloud in sight.

He couldn't help himself. His eyes always went back to her. He contemplated her face turned towards the stars, the curve of her neck, the smile tickling her lips. She was ethereal. He was convinced even the angels still in Heaven could not compare at all with her. She was above beauty, above ethereal, even. Looking at her this way woke up a spark between his ribs. Looking back at the sky would tear him apart, so he kept admiring every perfect inch of her.

He was "hergazing" more than stargazing.

She bit the inside of her cheek and turned her head to look at him. He felt his beartbeat go wild. His thoughts scattered away as she started into his eyes, leaving only her on his mind.

"I thought we were stargazing." she sneered.

"You're brighter than the stars, doll." he stuttered.

She blushed and giggled.

"What an awful cheesy sentence. I love it." she laughed.

He cupped her cheek gently. He felt the heat of her face against his palm, warming up the cold inside of him. She smiled and he kept his hand there, letting the hotness of her blush sink in his fingers, travel up his arm and land on the ice over his heart. He could feel some water forming over the layers, dripping down his ribs, turning into mist as they reached his feet. She was warming him up, chasing the winter, and he absolutely loved it.

From that angle, as the moon was still low and the hill slightly higher than it, it hovered over the back of her head. It conferred her a halo, the halo she deserves, as if the moon was picturing the angel Bucky always believed she was. His stomach did the thing again. She looked like she had fallen from the cloudy word above.

His palm got sweaty against her cheek and he wanted to wipe it on his jeans, but she grabbed his wrist and kept his hand on her face. His breath catched in his throat.

In this instant, when she looked back at him this way, with a flame burning in her eyes, he felt the warmth get the best of him. The ice became water, the water mist, the mist steam. The smile on her beautiful lips made the steam even hotter and it became a spark. It sizzled in the cold world that was his ribcage and came to life. His mouth turned dry, the blood in his veins boiled up.

His angel parted her lips, a silent invitation, and Bucky couldn't hold himself back.

He brought her face to his and brushed her lips with his. The spark became a flame, burning its way in every inch of the frozen land that was his heart. She slid her hands through his hair and kissed him harder, almost in a desperate way. The flame exploded into a strong, powerful fire, and he lost control.

He wrapped his arms around his angel's waist and rolled on his back to lay her on his chest. She never stopped the kiss, didn't even pull back. They tangled their legs as a blaze was melting the ice in Bucky. He panted against her lips when all the layers turned into water, and all the water evaporated into a hot, burning steam. Everything catched on fire and he wasn't crippled by his ice prison anymore. The kiss went on, and on, and on, until they couln't breathe anymore.

They broke their embrace to catch their breath. He rested his forehead against hers, finally aware of how hot he had gotten inside. How hot she made him. The flames had licked away every last drop of water, leaving nothing but heat. Her heat.

His trembling hands caressed their way up her back until he cupped her face and brushed another kiss on her perfect lips. She was flushed, barely breathing, as shaking as him, and she was even more perfect than she usually was. Was it even possible?

He gently rolled on his side to lay her down on the blanket again. She snuggled into his chest, her nose buried in the crook of his neck, and they stargazed again. They shared a tender kiss every now and then, their bodies so close they almost look like one. Bucky felt his heart, finally free, hammer against his ribs at each kiss. He had reached his angel's Heaven.

When the sun roze up from its nap a few hours later, they were waking up from a night on the ground.

Bucky looked at the sun as it caressed the hill with its rays and reached for the moon, skimming lovingly her craters. He contemplated the two lovers of the sky being finally reunited as he and his angel had just found eachother's lover of the earth.

He almost feared God would take away from him His angel, claiming her back, but she kissed his temple and he cuddled her closer to him, his heart finally beating freely next to hers. He had his angel, all to himself, and she wasn't going back to Heaven, as she had created her own paradise between Bucky and her.

And among all the angels, she was his.

The only one able to melt winter away.

☆☆★☆☆

Thank you so much for reading this! I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed it.

If you like my writing, you can take a look at my Wattpad account, "WinterBarnes13", but my works there are mostly in French. I only have one Fanfic in English, it's short and was written two years ago.

Lots of love!

- Vee

#bucky #james barnes #fanfic #bucky barnes #marvel #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #oneshot #fluff #romance #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier #cute fluff

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abarbaricyalp · 1 day

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Big kinda-sorta fill for a bunch of prompts all at once because I thought they fit well together. Don't think too hard about the logic of this one. Truly. Don't. Written for the @sambuckylibrary Anniversary Event! Cw: violence, blood, injury, medical procedures (on page and discussed), radiation poisoning (sickness, pain, and gore affiliated), body horror (in a dream) Read on AO3!

Upon Faith

It's 10:34 AM on a Thursday morning when the Winter Soldier kills the GRC delegation leader in the middle of an international summit. He takes out every security agent who gets near him, maims most of the bystanders. He looks right into Sam's eyes as he raises a modified sig-sauer micro-rifle and shoots Sam directly in the middle of the star covering his chest.

Deliriously, as he’s falling backwards with extraordinary pain blooming along every nerve in his body, Sam thinks about how Bucky hated the shield looking like a target, and that he had designed this suit for him and put a target right over Sam's heart anyway.

. . .

Sam woke up a day later, in a hospital room with a heavy cast around his ribs to hold him immobile at least temporarily. There was no shifting around in this behemoth. He couldn't even reach for the water on the table next to him. Normally, it was Bucky's job to bitch about whether he was getting enough fluids, to hand him water glasses and sneak in the digestive sodas Sam liked.

“It’s a bulletproof vest,” Bucky had said once, using an arm across Sam’s hips to keep him in bed. “That means the bullet doesn’t go in. It doesn’t mean the impact doesn’t hit you.”

Sam tried to compare that gunshot to this one. He hadn’t been wearing his Captain America suit that time, just regular kevlar. But the shot had come from a handgun from much further away. The micro-rifle was designed for performance and Bucky had been right in front of him. The vibranium was strong, but that blast had cut right through Sam. What kind of bullet was it? One large one? Or a volley of fire? He couldn’t even remember the sound of it firing.

"It wasn't him," Sam said as soon as someone walked in the door–brought forth by the increased rate in his heart monitor. “I know him better than you do. That wasn’t him.”

He was surprised to see that it was Everett Ross who had walked in the door. If for no other reason than he thought Ross was in Wakanda again. Ross looked up from a file folder thicker than a fist. “Now why am I not surprised to hear you say that, Captain?” he asked. “Nevertheless, you’re not to contact him. You understand of course.”

Sam’s jaw tightened and he tried to sit up again. It didn’t work again. “It wasn’t him. He’s in danger. He’s undercover right now.”

Ross scoffed slightly. “I don’t think he’s the best candidate for undercover work. Pretty identifiable.”

Sam sighed in frustration, tossing his head to the side because he couldn’t do anything with his arms. “Ask your girlfriend. She’d know more than me.”

Unfiltered disgust flashed across Ross’s face. He practically flushed green. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said sharply. “I heard you two had a falling out,” he added, prodding at old bruises that Sam didn’t want to expose. “You two haven’t spoken in months.”

“He didn’t do it,” Sam repeated.

“The only stable thing in his life gets cut out like that…” Ross suggested with a shrug. “Could make anyone lose it. Especially after prolonged time with Valentina.”

“Bucky’s not a bomb,” Sam almost snarled. “He’s not going to explode from a pin-prick. He’s in trouble. Whatever’s going on, he has a target on his back now.”

“You could say that,” Ross agreed. “Where is he?”

Sam almost managed to throw his hands up in the air. The AC cut on above them and Sam listened to it hum and churn while he stared at Ross. “I don’t know. Like you said, we haven’t talked since he was assigned to the Thunderbolts.”

“Why not?” Ross prodded, poking harder at the bruise encasing Sam��s heart.

Sam found himself shaking his head. He wasn’t sure where the gesture actually came from. The actual answer was that Sam knew Bucky was hiding something from him. Something about this assignment, about the team. He’d adopted this asinine habit of taking on all the dirt and blood that could possibly be slung at Sam, doing all the shady work that Sam came up against recently. Sam had confronted him about it, this assignment had come in, Bucky left without so much as an argument. Just a kiss to the scar under Sam’s eye. He’d been unreachable since.

But Sam couldn’t say any of that to Ross. It would only stoke the flames snaring closer to Bucky, wherever he was. Sam had learned the hard way to watch what he said to their bosses. Every watercooler conversation was some subterfuge to notch another complaint about Bucky’s pardon. Now? If Sam didn’t find Bucky before anyone else, Bucky was never going to see the light of day again.

“We decided long distance wouldn’t work,” he said drily.

Ross snorted and flipped through several pages in the tome in his hand. “Captain, the sooner you help us, the less damage he can do. Do you know he’s been MIA for almost three weeks now?”

Sam’s blood ran cold. He was glad Ross wouldn’t be able to tell how his body tensed through all of the casting on him. Three weeks? Had they even been looking for him? Sam didn’t know anything about the Thunderbolts, but he was sure the leash he was on must’ve had some slack. How long until the team’s handlers decided something was wrong? How much effort had even been put into looking for him before this?

“You think Hydra got their hands on him and reverted him,” Sam surmised. “It didn’t happen. Shuri and her team took all of that out. It took them a decade to break him last time. This wasn’t him. Something else is going on. You’re wasting time focusing on him. You’re wasting his time.”

“Then what do you think happened?” Ross asked, finally looking up at Sam for longer than a glance. He closed the file in his hand and everything.

“The same thing that happened last time,” Sam said. “A mesh-mask. A robot. A shapeshifter. A clone. I don’t know. I only saw it for a few seconds. But it wasn’t Bucky. I know him better than anyone else.”

“You were actively being shot at as well,” Ross pointed out. “I’d hardly consider that a healthy state of mind to be making judgement calls. It’s no secret that you and Barnes are a weak spot for each other. Your opinion, your defense of him, doesn’t weigh very much here.”

Sam bared his teeth and strained too hard all at once. Pain laced up his body, straight down to the bone of him. It cut through the fuzz of quality pain medications and cleared his head only to stuff it full of over-stimulation. Every bone in his chest felt like it was covered in buckshot and he couldn’t get a deep breath in, which made him panic. He was panicking about Bucky too. All his concern came flooding in at once. He wanted out of this bed. He wanted his own phone. He needed to call Bucky, even if he wouldn’t pick up. Sam could leave a message warning him.

Ross tutted and came over to increase Sam’s morphine drip. Too fast, Sam thought, fighting through the red haze and black spots creeping into his vision, that was too much all at once.

“We’ll find him, Captain,” Ross said, stepping back. “Don’t worry about that.”

“Don’t you even–” Sam started, but his tongue got heavy in his mouth and the spots in his vision grew and grew and grew. Don’t hurt him, he tried again as he fell into endless black.

Read the rest on AO3!

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #tfatws

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