#bucky x reader Apocalypse

[espinosaurusrexex]

Acid Fog

Wolds Collide Collection

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader apocalypse au

summary: You take the chance to bond with a new friend when the acid fog rolls in, inevitably trapping you with Bucky for several hours. Bucky has to learn the hard way, that he won't get rid of you that easily.

a/n: I'm not dead. I just have so much to do. But you best believe, once I finally finished my papers, I will work on all the stories that are already outlined in my drafts 💚 please bear with me until then...

not prooread - will do so soon

word count: 2.6k

warnings: grumpy/sunshine, mentions of death, dystopia, deadly fog, reader is lonely, Bucky is lonely - they're gonna be lonely together, worried CatDad!Bucky, strangers to friends (for now)

collection playlist | main masterlist | collection masterlist

May 13th 2039

Hey, Book.

I’ve decided that Bucky needs a friend, so I’m going to visit him today.

Finding the handsome not-so-anymore stranger was a challenge. But you loved challenges. It mixed up the day, made things less boring, and was a nice way to spend your time.

You had planned things perfectly. You had enough time until the next acid fog would roll through, grabbed one of the canned soups that were rarely found anymore - but you’d gladly sacrifice them for a new friend, and you had a backpack ready with some essentials in case you wouldn’t make it home in time. 

You first headed in the direction Bucky took off to the other day after falling into your trap. There wasn’t much to “detour around” where you lived and chances of him being fairly close - considering being too far from shelter was a certain death sentence - gave you confidence with that approach. 

You walked for about two hours until the tree line faded into blotchy scatters of green. There was a house - or rather ruins of one - sitting by the edge of the forest. You frowned. Bucky wasn’t stupid. At least he didn’t seem that way. He would never hide above ground. Every decent survivor that had lived up to this point knew ‘low was the go’. The chances of being killed were cut to 20% when you lived secluded and underground - the beach was good too apparently, but you were too far to see for yourself. 

Your eyes swayed to the ground. You had a feeling Bucky was here, you just needed to find out where exactly. So you approached the ruins and stepped through what was left of the doorway. Dust and dirt covered the surfaces, ripped cushioned sofas, and scratched hardwood floors. There wasn’t much left to use here. The place was looted and brittle with holes in the ceilings and missing steps. You wondered how you ever recognized it as a house in the first place - because, really, this was anything but. The bones barely held up the remains and made it seem like an oversized version of a carport. 

It wasn’t long until you had scouted the place and reached the other end of it. Now you were standing on the porch and looking out onto a wild yard that reached into the forest again. You walked down and towards it, searching the area and still feeling as though Bucky was close. He couldn’t have lived any further - it would have been crazy. 

The leaves rustled beneath your feet as you skipped vines and roots peaking from beneath. Your eyes swept the area until they landed on an odd-looking lot of ground. As if the branches were forcefully pulled to cover up a buried something, the vines stretched over a green-grayish ledge. 

Immediately you headed for it. This has got to be it, you thought until you reached an opening into the ground that revealed a heavy-looking bunker door. 

Heck yeah. You knew he wasn’t that stupid - even though he did fall into your trap...

As soon as you opened it and entered, it felt as though you had stepped several decades back. The whole interior seemed to be dipped in sepia. Old furniture crammed into odd places and neatly kept surfaces without dust made it look like an old photograph. 

You walked further, let your hand wander over the spines of the books aligned atop a lonely shelf on the wall. They were Cyril, you guessed, as you watched the golden letters shine when you passed them. Beneath the books and next to a booger green armchair was a record player, aligned with old records of people with excessively gelled hairstyles and tailored suits - ancient. 

But Bucky was nowhere to be found. 

A heavy sigh escaped you as your backpack landed on the ground and you went about scouting the bunker some more. The space wasn’t too big, and Bucky seemed to have accumulated a bunch of treasures there for some time now, so you had plenty of things to discover. Eventually, though, you just fell back into the ugly armchair and tried to start up the record player. 

Bucky’s music wasn’t particularly your go-to, but you wouldn’t complain in a world where music was as rare as a working outlet. After a while, you could even understand why Bucky resided here. It was kind of comforting - homey. Something not many people could call their own in this world.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You shot up, knocking over a couple books and earning a dark glare from the man in the doorway - Bucky. 

You hadn’t even heard him come in. “I... I just wanted to see you,” you explained with an excited smile on your face. "I brought soup!" Your hands pointed towards your backpack.

“You- you broke in!” His boots stomped over to you just as you turned to pick up the pile of paperbacks. 

“Well, it’s not so much breaking in when we’re friends.”

“We’re not friends.” Bucky reached forward and snatched the items from your grasp. He was slightly sweaty, grime covering his forehead, and settled in the harsh frown lines you could only see because he was so close. 

“Yes, we are! You fall into my trap, you are my friend.” You ticked off the points with your fingers just as Bucky threw his hands in the air. 

“You can’t just make up these ridiculous rules.” 

“Or can I?”

“No. We can’t be friends. I don’t even know your name.”

He did have a point there. For a moment you watched as he neatly stacked the Russian books back in their place and then told him your name. 

“What?” He grumbled. 

And you just reiterated the words that you hadn’t said in forever. 

He turned back to you with a poker face. “I don’t like it,” Bucky said so monotonely, it almost seemed like he wanted to tease you. 

“Excuse me?” You weren’t offended, it was hard to make friends nowadays - there was nothing unusual about a person being hesitant at first. 

“It doesn’t fit you. You should be called trouble.“ He still had that dead look on his face and you were starting to think he just didn't know anything else. You wouldn't blame him - seriously.

“See! We are friends you know me!” You chuckled but Bucky just shook his head. 

“I don’t know you,” he whispered with slumped shoulders as he lowered his bag close to yours. Then he took off his hat and ran a hand through his shoulder-long hair. 

Man, he was kind of cute. But that was probably just the loneliness talking, so you shook out of it. 

You opened your arms and sunk back into the chair. “Well lucky for you we have a bunch of time to get to know each other now.”

And Bucky’s eyes widened. “What why?”

“The acid fog is rolling in early this evening.” You looked past him and out the entrance, where a deep gray sky covered most of the view. “I thought you knew... and that’s why you’re so, well, tense.”

“What, no I was just outside it’s-” The brunette turned and you could see his shoulders stiffen when he realized you were right. “Shit.” It was a low mumble that was followed by another nervous swipe through his hair. 

For a man who seemed to be cool, calm, and collected so far, his feet were doing an awful lot of pacing right now. 

“Are you okay?” You were careful to ask. Something was wrong and you didn’t want to risk him exploding. You didn’t know how he would react and a small sadness washed over your chest when you realized that maybe you weren’t as good of friends as you wanted to be. 

“Shut up.” Yup, definitely not the talking type then. 

“Can I help you or is ther-“ You were interrupted by a soft meow sounding over the rumbling of the clouds. 

“Fuck, finally.” Bucky exhaled and knelt down, just to reveal a white fluffy cat tangling in his touch. 

“Uh...There's a cat in your bunker,” you pointed out and Bucky picked his stiffness back up ever so slightly. 

“Her name is Alpine. Touch her and you’re dead.” 

So this was what had this big, broody man’s panties in a twist. He was worried for his pet. That was super adorable, you had to admit. And it charmed you just that much more when you saw the way he cuddled her into his chest before setting her back on the ground. 

“I- Oh.”

As soon as he’d said it, Alpine had sauntered her way to you and rubbed her fluffy white face on your shin. You were just frozen in place - unsure what to do. You wanted to pet her so badly, but who knew what Bucky would do if you so much as moved now. 

“The cat has chosen. Don’t blame me.” You threw your hands in the air when Alpine started to purr and jumped only our lab. Now that she was so close to your face, you noticed that one of her eyes was missing, a darker patch of fur replacing the spot where it should have been, but it just made her that much more charming. 

Bucky glared at you for a good second and then moved to close the bunker in order to keep the deadly air out. And you took the opportunity to finally pet his cat. 

It had only been 20 minutes and Bucky was already regretting his decision not to send you out into the fog. 

First, you had broken into his home. Then you had declared you as friends, to which - for the record - he never agreed to. And then you had stolen Alpine’s attention. That was just the cherry on top of your pile of audacity. 

And though he had been told that he wasn’t a pleasant contemporary, he wouldn’t send people straight to their deaths like that. He was a grump, but he wasn’t cruel. So he settled on quietly sitting in a corner and hoping that you’d eventually grow tired of snooping through his belongings. 

But he still held a grudge. Because he hadn’t planned to spend so much time with anyone, really - except for Alpine, of course - and now he was stuck with you for at least three hours. You had basically forced yourself into his life with that agitating sunshine demeanor of yours and the annoying optimism in every single thing you did. 

You had to be broken, somehow. Nobody could be this happy at the end of the world. Because that’s what this was. The end. The time you had to wait out until you escaped the hell this world had become just to spend an eternity in the actual one. 

Yeah, Bucky believed in heaven and hell. Somebody had to be responsible for idiots like Hydra and he was sure there was an extra special lava pit reserved just for the god complex fogged imbeciles that were responsible for it all going to shit once and for all. 

Bucky huffed at your occasional ‘woahs’ and ‘oohs’ and shrugged off his jacket while you went through more of his things. There was nothing he could do anyway. Tying you up and gagging you until it was over would be incredibly awkward for both of you. So, as long as you didn’t break anything or talk to him, he deemed you safe. 

“Woahhh, that is so cool! Where’d you get that?” You suddenly said, and when he turned, Bucky saw you pointing at his metal arm. 

He looked down, turned it in the yellow gleam of the bunker lamp, and then focused on your face again. People had seen a lot these days, though none of them ever asked him about it. They either stayed silent or avoided him altogether - the latter of which he preferred. He didn't like talking about it. It wasn’t anything he was proud of for that matter.

“Nonya,” he grumbled and sat back in the chair he chose to reside in for the rest of the day. 

“What’s Nonya?” Your head cocked to the side and Bucky couldn’t help but crack a small smirk.

“Non ya business.”

And finally, you shut up. He exhaled, closed his eyes, and smiled complacently. However the silence didn’t last long. 

“Okay that was a good one but really, where did you get that arm - it’s amazing.”

“It’s not amazing and I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Now do me a favor and shut up before I set you outside”

“You wouldn’t dare. After all, I was the one that helped you out of that trap.”

Buck had already established that he wouldn’t. But the thought seemed ever so intriguing right this second. 

“That you built,” he deadpanned. “I’m done talking to you. Just be quiet for the next hour, so we both have a chance at surviving this thing.” Before I murder you or myself.  That last part only echoed in his mind before he grabbed a book and hoped deeply that you’d comply. 

You huffed and slumped in the chair next to him. Bucky only dared to glance at you once. Then he began reading, enjoying the silence you finally granted him. 

You watched Bucky read his book. Fascinated by the shapes on the page that didn't look like letters to you, you leaned over to him. Bucky was skimming the pages swiftly, turning pages before you could even look at all the lines and then starting all over again. 

When you leaned in a little too closely, he scooted back and hid the page from you with a glare. So, you stood up and sauntered over to the shelf again, tracing the printed covers with your finger. 

“They’re all in Russian,” you pointed out after you had grazed the last spine. Most of the books were bound in brown, grey, or red. 

“So?” He just shrugged, not even bothering to look at you.

“Do you know Russian?”

“The guy that lived here first was Russian.” He shut the book finally, tracing the cover with his own fingers. “So, I taught myself.”

“You know, I can get you some normal books. I can’t imagine there’s anything interesting in there.” You stared at the Russian flag on most of the books. They looked like government-issued prints. Nothing like a fun novel or romance book.

“I don’t mind them, really...” Bucky set the book down and stood next to you. Then he scratched his stubble with his flesh hand. “Though, they all have a communistic touch.”

“See!” You pointed at him. “What do you like to read? I’ve got it all. Romance, fantasy, sci-fi.”

“No sci-fi please.” Bucky rolled his eyes and you could only imagine why. You’d had enough of it in the real world, so the sci-fi book you had once acquired during one of your town walks hat sat in the corner of your little home untouched.

“So, you’re not opposed to romance?” Your eyebrows raised suggestively only for Bucky to glare at you again.

Bucky huffed and sat back down. “Forget it. I'll read my Russian books.”

You chuckled and threw your hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Fantasy it is.” And then you settled in next to him staring at the ceiling with a small smile and a giddy feeling in your chest. 

“See..,” you whispered, “I knew we would get along eventually.”

**Bonus

“Buckstar… Starbucks… Buck-”

“What are you doing?”

“I think it's only fair that if you give me a nickname, I can have one for you, too. How does Bucky-Buck sound?”

“No”

“Buckaroo.”

“Do I need to throw you out? Cause I will.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“I thought I already had.”

"Good point… get out.”

“I can’t, the Fogg’s about to come!”

“Well, then I suggest you hurry your ass up, so it can’t kill you before I do.”

„I know you might not try to be, but you are very funny.“

*huffs in frustration*

Hey, Book,

Bucky's not that lonely anymore.

more…

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#megs imagines #worlds collide #apocalypse au #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Time (D)rift 1

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, blood, violence, and possible other triggers. Warnings may not be explicit or exhaustive.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own. (Apocalypse AU) 

Sister series to Edge of Time

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: I'm posting this bc idk.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The Avengers were heroes once, they once even deserved that title. Now they are just villains among the dregs of humanity. That was before all this, when it all mattered. Nothing makes a difference anymore and existence is only that. The basest form of survival, a purgatory of your own cowardice.

You carry in the bins and sort through them with the other labourers. Everyone has their place, a rung on the ladder and you share the lowest with those that line the tables and sift through the fruits, vegetables, and non-perishable rations. It is all to be doled out according to the system; how much is your worth?

Yours? A cup of instant rice, a scoop of canned corn, and a bone with some gristle… if you’re lucky.

You place the empty bin among the growing stack and return to the table. Your hands are chapped and sore. When you’re not bringing in the haul, you’re out chopping wood for the furnaces, not that your barrack has one, or collecting snow to melt and filter for the reserve.

You focus on your task, trying not to think about how little of this will ever touch your belly. Ignoring the pluck of jealousy as you hear the giggles from down the hall. When the men come to make their deliveries, it is rarely a kindness, merely a ransom for every head under those roofs. Those days when they come empty-handed are worse; those days they’re bored and need some distraction, not that they don’t find it regardless.

Cordelia was one of the lucky ones. You only thought they were lucky when your stomach contracted with hunger or revolted from some expired staple. She use to be in the same bunk as you, for a whole week before she was plucked from the bunch.

Bucky Barnes. He took her away, the bunk once more empty. 

Sergeant. That’s what he prefers, not that you’ve ever spoken to him. You keep your head down and do what you’re told. You avoid those who come in from the other side of the wall seeking to feed their egos with those they’ve entrapped. He likes her and prefers her full name to “Corey”. That was how you’d known her.

You knew another down at the Row. Once. They don't stay the same down there. None of you are the same as you were.

You hear Corey's voice among the babble as you smell the green leaves of stemmed tomatoes, the scent tickling your tongue. The fruits are full and firm. You don’t know where they come from but the recent addition of greens, reds, and yellows were welcome. One night, the kitchen was permitted to serve fresh tomato sauce with the hard noodles to your tier. As the cargo grew richer, you hoped that would come more often but hope never lasts long.

You look over at Al in his dirty grey flannel and the patched brown jacket that hung open from his shoulders. He barely seems to see what his hands do as they work out of habit. Your own are just as quick and mindless. 

It it wasn’t for you, no one would eat. The cooks wouldn’t get their ingredients and the guards and Parker Row wouldn’t get their hot meals. The resent fades. You don’t have energy for it. You keep up your work and marvel at the bunch of bananas unveiled in the next bin. Marietta gasps as several others peek over, a brief lull as they admire the bright exotic fruit.

“Keep sorting,” the guard in black hits a table with his baton.

Hands begin to shuffle, eyes return to the table, and whispers hush. At least the work keeps you out of the bitter winds. You’ll be longing for it once you’re sent back out to toil in the snow.

When the sorting is done, you button up your coat and pull on your thick gloves. There's still work to be done outside, reviewing the walls and marking the chart with inconsistencies. One of the guards in faded black will escort you to be sure you don't get any ideas. Well, how far could you make it on the other side?

As you come out on the concrete steps, you nearly bowl over the man coming up. You know him. Hard to mistake as his metal arm is left exposed to the bitter cold. Sergeant Barnes. You put your chin down and step aside.

"Sergeant," you utter and keep out of his way.

He gives no acknowledgement and continues through the door, no doubt to steal something sweet for him and whoever he's visiting that day. You take a breath and a step, continuing down to even ground. You glance around at the men rubbing their hands and blowing out clouds through their noses.

"You," the voice startles you. Barton, the ghost with his bow. You rarely see him in the daylight. "Let's go."

He's pointing at you. The men clustered by the trucks glance over. One nudges you and snaps his fingers impatiently. You wipe your nose with your wooly glove and pull your scarf up.

"Sir."

"You know how to play poker?"

You blink, dumbfounded as you stop a foot away from him. "Poker?"

"Texas hold 'em? You know what a flush is?"

You frown, "sure, uh, sir."

"Come on."

You don't argue. You never even heard the men speak before that moment. You know what he prefers better, but you wouldn't like that. You nod and follow as he turns on his heel without further consideration. 

Your confusion mounts as you approach the castle, so called for its seclusive purpose. Only those former saviours and their black-clad minions went within. You stopped at the threshold as Barton continued up the stairs.

"You like the cold or something?" He doesn't look back, his dry invitation hanging behind him as he pulls open the door.

You hurry to catch the door as he enters. His hand rests on a long knife handle sticking out of the sheath strapped to his thigh. You don't look beyond his shoulders. Minding your business is the surest way to avoid trouble. 

Up another flight of stairs, you head down a hallway and he gives a curt two-fingered tap to the door. There's voices from within, buzzing over the clink of glasses, but no decisive answer. He lets himself in without waiting.

You tail him, nearly stepping on his heels as the door closes behind you. He points you to an empty chair along the round table. The crowd of faces is familiar and not happily so. Nick Fury and his eye-patch, Steve Rogers and his new single-sighted veneer, Peter Parker, the boy for which the infamous district is named, and Natasha Romanov, the red-head with her emotionless gaze. Barton sits beside her and empties the glass of whiskey in front of her to her chagrin.

"Hey," she swats the back of his skull and he chuckles. The buoyancy is unlike the grim resignation that ferments in the rest of the settlement.

You sit stiffly, staring at the table blankly. You feel a set of eyes watching you. The steady clacking of plastic chips as fingers toy with the stack.

"Who's this?" The youngest, Parker, asks.

"We need a dealer without motive," Barton explains, "she's not one of yours so cut it out, kid."

"Eh, kid?" Parker snaps.

"Pete," Rogers warns and shifts in his seat, "you didn't see Bucky?"

"Sure did," Barton says, "different kinda poker for him."

"Typical," Natasha sneers.

"Shit, Romanov, you jealous?" Fury taunts.

"Jealous? I pity the poor girl."

"Sure," Rogers intones.

"Yours too."

The Captain growls as you wait rigidly in your chair. You remember the woman he brought there, weeks, maybe months ago. She looked unhappy, but that's hardly unusual. What is, is that she's seemingly still alive. 

"Shuffle," Barton orders as he fishes out a half-smoked cigar from his pocket.

You peel off your gloves and tuck them in your pocket, sliding your scarf under your chin as the warmth seeps through your layers. Your cold fingers are clumsy as you try to obey, several cards fluttering away from your grasp.

"Jesus, Barton, you really know how to pick them," Rogers snarls.

"Better get the whining started early," Natasha goads, "there'll be a lot of that."

"It's okay, honey," Peter wiggles his fingers to catch your attention, your eyes flick up cautiously, just for a second and meet his dark ones, "you don't have to be nervous."

"Leave her alone, we need a dealer," Barton barks around the cigar and hands you the stray cards.

"You wouldn't know a good time if it hopped on your dick," Peter retorts.

"Hey, this is a card game," Fury snarls, "shut the fuck up. All of you."

You finally steady your hands and the fan of cards fills the void. A snort breaks the silence as Rogers dares to laugh. The rest join in as you awkwardly focus on your menial task. The surrealness holds you in a frightful trance.

Content, you deal the cards, two to each player and burn one before the flop. Card corners bend back as the adversaries consider their hands. You hold your breath.

"Least you found one who knows what they're doing," Fury remarks, "unlucky though."

He folds, shortly followed by Rogers then Parker. Natasha raises and Barton matches her. You flip the turn card but no tell comes from either player. You wait. Check, raise, match. You lay down the river card and they both show their hands.

Straight for Barton, nothing for Nat. Pure bluff.

"Interesting strategy," Barton chuckles and gathers the pot.

"Hm, or your dealer is more than," she accuses.

He peeks at you and his forehead wrinkles, "I think she's more your type, Nat."

They laugh, you squirm. Peter's hand traces over the wood and draws your attention. You look up and he winks at you. You try not to show your discomfort as you collect the cards. 

You just need to be invisible, just like any other day, any other task. You're not a person, you're just there.

❄️ 

It's dark when the game ends. Natasha is a graceful but boastful winner. Fury is first to leave the table as Barton rolls his eyes and Rogers scowls and picks his nails. He's been restless all night, impatient for something or another. Likely eager to get out of the hellhole.

Peter watches you as you wait to be dismissed. Barton doesn't acknowledge you as he tosses a muttered accusation at Nat and reaches for the whiskey bottle. He stands and jostles her as they playfully kid about Budapest. You grit your teeth as they surpass the table, drinking and gabbing as they leave the room.

What? He just left? Okay? You stand as Steve grumbles and leans back, arms crossed. "I'm about to leave them all here," he growls.

"If it keeps you from moping in my house," Fury scoffs.

You get up. You don't know what to do except leave. You turn cautiously. No one says anything but Peter definitely notices. He mirrors you and you hear him follow you to the door.

He opens it before you can. You thank him, not wanting to offend him, and proceed. Again, he's right behind you. He comes parallel to you as he brushes out his curls with his fingers.

"You shouldn't be wandering out in the dark," he says, "that's dangerous."

You squint as a guard stands at the bottom of the stairs, descending silently. He laughs, "they're just as bad as the people outside, ya know?"

You nod and gulp as you get to the bottom. No one stops you. Natasha and Barton toss knives into the wall as they pass the bottle between them and the guards are dozing on their feet.

"So," Peter follows you through the door, "how long were you… outside?"

You chew your lip. This isn't good. You know of his reputation. It lingered even when he was away on his big mission to Wakanda. This must be how he did it. Be nice, unassuming, catch them off balance. It worked on her…

"I didn't bring you in so…"

The darkness drapes around you, most of the buildings black as curfew limits the generators to only a few. You quiver and look up at the slivered moon.

"Two years…"

"Two? Decent. Reasonable." He muses, "and you are…" he scans ahead, "down at the Row or–"

"Cannery," you blurt out, "I work on a crew."

"You? You're too pretty for that."

You keep your eyes forward. You pull your scarf up and do up the top button on your coat. He sidles closer as you walk along the gravelly street.

"The Row is nice. Good food, warm beds, and the company–"

"I should go," you say, "we wake up early to clear the snow."

"Like I was saying, you should think about it. The Row. I could find you whatever you want. You like jewelry?"

"I don't– I'm not–" you don't know what's worse, refusing him or going to the Row. "No, thank you. I… I don't think it's for me—"

"It would only be me. If that's what you want."

"N-no," you puff and shiver, "no. I work at the Cannery."

"I know," he says with exasperation, "you're cute though. Wasted there."

"I…" you begin. You don't want to be another mare at the barn. "No."

"No?"

"No."

Silence. Stalemate as you near the darkened Cannery. He catches your arm before you can edge away. He pulls you back.

"But… I want you," he says.

You freeze, chattering as you stand stalk straight. That's how it goes. It's exactly how the guards get the girls behind the yard or corner them in some abandoned hallway. But Peter, he's more than that. He's one of them.

"Unless you are fucking Barton. He's the kind to play it cool."

"No," you sputter, "I'm not."

"Great," his hand brushes up your sleeve, "so why don't you take me back to wherever it is they put you and we can have a little fun."

You can't move. Your feet are stuck in place. You're too scared to say no a third time but your body is paralysed in your horror. The inevitable. The only promise this world ever keeps. You will be used whether you want it or not. The lesson is learned the first time but doesn't get easier the next.

"Baby, please, don't be scared. I'm a nice guy. I'll be gentle–" he squeezes your arm.

"Oh fuck off, Parker," a deep voice rolls in the night and a bloom of light sparks before the broad figure, "she's not interested. It's like ten feet to the whorehouse."

The light on Bucky's rifle lights up the street as he aims it between you and Peter, "relax, I got the safety on."

"That thing has one?" Peter says.

"I think," Bucky shrugs.

"You think?"

"Mm," the other man nears nonchalantly as he gets closer, "got better gear on it than yours, bud."

Bucky reaches and cups Peter's crotch, the smaller man backing away in surprise, "what the fuck, man?"

"He's hard for you," Bucky chuckles, "holy fucking shit, look at you."

He points the light at you, waving it up and down your body, "sure this one is a girl?"

You hug yourself and shiver. You don't dare run though your feet tell you to. He sniffs and pokes Peter with the muzzle, "leave her. We gotta get out of here."

"Wait, no–"

"You had your chance, and what? You lost, didn't you? You know Nat counts cards," he points Peter away, "next time. Or I'll have Steve come and drag you back himself."

"Asshole," Peter snarls, "wouldn't have any of it if it wasn't for me…"

"Sure, kid, we did just fine without you."

"You–"

"Go," Bucky snaps and marches Peter away, "night, sweetheart."

You listen to their footsteps mulch through the snowy dirt. You're too afraid to look at them, afraid it might bring them back. You slowly veer towards the Cannery and open the door, moving carefully through the thick dark.

You've been seen. Your veil has been shorn away. Exposed, vulnerable, just like before. Like the outside. 

The walls are no good to you if the monsters are welcomed inside. In here, out there, it's all the same, but outside, you have somewhere to run.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #Dark Fic #dark!fic #series #au #apocalypse au #MCU #marvel #Winter Soldier #captain america #Avengers

[shamrockqueen]

Predator in the desert

Chapter 1

Pairing : Bucky X reader (Post apocalyptic AU)

Warnings : R18, Kidnapping, Fallout new Vegas vibes, Violence, imminent danger

Word count : 1332

Bucky Masterlist

Scavenging the wasteland was generally frowned upon but not enforced by any laws. Not like there was anyone left to enforce them. But, many people deemed it unsafe and often not worth leaving the limited safety of one’s small shanty town to venture out into the desert wasteland.

You’ve been very lucky thus far, as you’ve broken this rule several times in the hopes of finding useful scraps to trade for enough food to fill your belly for the night. It usually pays off, if only a little. But a little is more than nothing, and it beats starving in the night.

Most of the things to be found were abandoned vehicles and the occasional junk pile that can be taken apart for scrap. Some hauls are better than others, and then there are some days where you don’t find anything. This was one of those days, as nothing popped up on the horizon while you wandered the dusty landscape. You’d hate to waste this trip on nothing, but you couldn’t go much further under this blazing sun.

At some point, you’d just have to call it quits and turn back toward town. You kicked the dust in frustration from the knowledge that you didn’t have a single scrap of food waiting for you back home and not a dime to buy some. You had a bit of water left in your bag that would have to last you the trek back, but you hadn’t the energy to turn around just yet.

You chose instead to hunker down in the shade of a large rock to sip from the near-empty canteen before making the journey back. The feeling of the last drop hitting your tongue was almost as heartbreaking as the lingering metallic taste it left in your mouth.

There wasn’t any time to dwell on it now; instead, you packed your bottle away and got back up.

At the time, it seemed no different than the same old shit life had dealt you every day, but you’d look back on this as a low moment. From here, there would be lower moments, but this one in particular would be the beginning of the end.

You didn’t see him following you from that high ledge; you didn’t see him climb his way down, stalking you along the rocks, but you did hear something. The light crunch of dirt under boots that weren’t yours rang right through your ears, making you stop in your tracks.

The footsteps stopped too as you stood idle, waiting out the dribble of sweat that ran along your back before whipping your head around to see…nothing.

A bit of weeds and dust blew through the barren tundra, but there was no living soul amongst it. Maybe you were hearing things, or maybe you were just an easier target than you’d thought.

Something was following you that day, something that easily evaded your line of sight just in time to take you out. When you turn back towards your path, your head is immediately knocked in the other direction with a burst of pain at the back of your cranium.

Your lights go out with a grunt before your now-loose limbs collide with the hard, dusty ground. You hit it like a heavy bag of rocks, leaving you aching and yet numb.

He watched you for a second, noticing the shallow breaths you still took and wondering whether he dealt too heavy of a blow.

Small rocks were crunched under his heavy boots as he got closer to kneel down by your side. He slipped two of his bare fingers along your neck before applying pressure near your jugular to feel the soft pulse of your heart still healthily beating.

The light bounced off of his dark goggles, only to be dulled by the rough plastic from the rest of his face mask. He stared back out towards the vast wasteland, watching as the sun still hung high above the dry landscape and burned down on the both of you. When he turned his attention back to you, he slipped his arms under your body to better carry you away.

Strings of light filter through your shaking eyelids every now and again as the world around you swayed back and forth. Few images can come through as you fight the black fog threatening to take over your consciousness. There was this tough gray-brown mass moving in and out of your limited field of vision, back and forth in time with the crunching of the rocky sand.

The blood starts to rush to your already-aching head, making it more and more difficult to force your eyes open. You can’t fight it anymore, and your sight is finally stolen from you. The light will only return when your position shifts and you're laid out on some oddly comforting yet lumpy bedding.

Your mind is cloudy, but you could still feel something wide and warm handling the back of your hair as the spout of a cool bottle is pressed to your lips. The second that the wonderful water hits your tongue, your body is moving upright to follow it and gulp it all up.

When the bottle is pulled away, the air in the room is no longer thin, allowing you to take a deep breath and open your eyes to your new surroundings.

Grayed wood and rusted metal made up a pretty rough but well-put-together room. Your eyes circled the area until they landed on the only moving mass within it. Him.

He was still holding the glass bottle when he came into view. His skin was tanned, save for the slashes of scar tissue that ran along his skin in thin white lines.

His dark hair was thick with sweat as it hung at just his shoulders, and his face still had a slight smear of black camo paint, making his face only half visible in your still blurry vision. You had to blink a few times to get the full picture, only to be left a bit speechless by the full image before you.

His muscles were tight and well defined, like they could snap forward and stop a punch within a split second, and they were on full display even through his dirty tank top. Yet, the sight that you linger on the most was his sharp gaze as it stabbed right through your skin. His eyes were a cutting and inescapable blue that made the blood freeze in your veins and the hair on your arms stand on end.

You’d never seen anyone like this in your life. No one could ever dream to look so healthy, let alone so strong. No, the only people left in the wastelands had hollow eyes that sank deep into their skulls, signifying their early demise. The set staring you down had far too much life inside of them, burning like a blue flame.

The only thing that stole your eyes away from his was the gleam of light that bounced off of the interlocking metal muscles that made up his left arm and hand. If you had the strength to do so, you would have kicked yourself for not noticing it immediately. There were few people left in this world with advanced implements such as that, and even fewer that still carried their emblems of war.

Your body felt numb as you stared into the dulled red star at the arm’s shoulder.

They were old stories told to you by the family you used to have; you never truly believed them, as you’d never seen such a symbol not once in your life...not until now.

All the stories that spoke of the red star ended in genocide and destruction. But, you were still alive.

You adjusted your gaze back to his still-stern face, unable to read much from him as his expression lacked obvious emotion. He’d kept you in one piece this far, but what would happen next?

More Post apocalyptic AU

#fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #bucky x you #fallout themes #fallout new vegas #fallout new Vegas feels #eventual smut #post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #post apocalyptic au #bucky barnes au #dark bucky x you #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #Bucky Barnes post apocalyptic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

[fluffyprettykitty]

hi bby! i have a request for your sleepover if you’re feeling inspired by it:

apocalypse!bucky — maybe a fluff piece?? i’d love for your imagination to run with it 🩷

pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x g/n reader

words: 300

a/n: thank you for the req baby, ily &lt;3 post apocalyptic avengers rebuilding the world let's go!

"Here, that's a good spot," Bucky said reading the shovel in his hand. His metal arm was shining against the sun.

"We could put three or four in a row, and then switch to the birch seeds down the line."

"Anything you want you're the boss." Bucky shrugged and threw the shovel in the dirt beginning to open a hole in the ground.

"Ha hah. If I was the boss I'd be showering daily." You rolled your eyes and placed your bag in the ground looking for the seeds.

"You know, next week when it's raining season, you can shower daily." He winked at you and continued shoveling the dirt away.

"Hmm, only when you're asleep."

"Oh." He said stopping just to dramatically hold his chest on the side of his heart with his free hand. "That hurts me."

"Good." You nod as you pull the container out of your bag. "Suffer."

"Alright, when you want to shower after we're done planting trees then my shower access will be revoked."

"I didn't know you showered." You snuffled up your nose. "It doesn't smell good around here."

"It's the soil." He retorts and looks at with an almost deadly stare.

"Right, the soil." You roll your eyes and with one quick move Bucky begins to shovel the dirt away and on to you.

"Hey!" You shout pacing a few steps back.

"Dirty. " Bucky points at you. "Wouldn't hurt to take a shower."

You shake your head and roll your eyes again.

"Be careful, we got plenty more trees to plant."

"Many more holes for me to dig."

He winks at you and continues and maybe later on when you both return to your base, you save some water by showering together.

#selenewrites #selene answers prompts #summer sleepover #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns imagine #burcky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #apocalypse au #bucky x reade #bucky barnes fanfiction

[buckrecs]

heyyy !!! can i get multiple recs for bucky x reader but it's set during an apocalypse :P

Apocalypse AU

masterlist | req masterlist

Awake My Soul by @foreverindreamlandd

It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Long Enough by @urvenicebtch

living in a tent with him was risky from the start, but you never expected tonight to be the night.

Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.

It’s A Cruel World by @revengingbarnes

In the destroyed post apocalyptic world, the reader saves a group from getting eaten alive by the undead. In turn, they offer her to join them. She would have said no, but the blue, trusting eyes of a certain brunette were too hard to resist.

Imagine by @vanderlustwords

reader gets bit and they either must find a cure quickly or accept what they have to do.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes apocalypse au #bucky barnes zombie au #dark!bucky #soft dark!bucky #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x agent!reader

[urvenicebtch]

Long Enough

(gif found in a reblog, doesn’t belong to me)

-----Pairing: survivor!Bucky x survivor!reader

Summary: living in a tent with him was risky from the start, but you never expected tonight to be the night.

A/N: HEY! im so excited to be making this because a) im a huge fan of The Walking Dead, and b) i just need some tent smut in my life. Sorry it's taken me so long to post a new fic but I've been going through another writers block and now I have covid, too. Welp, enjoy xx

Warnings: bruises and scars, masturbation (m), smut, love confession, insemination, switch!Bucky, fingering, handjob, edging, overstim (if you squint)

Clink, clank, clink

The string-connected aluminum cans rattle together as you pull on the string, fastening it to a tree a considerable distance from another tree, of which the opposite end of the string was fastened. A security system thought of by you, though your partner, Bucky, scavenged the materials. Speaking of, at the moment he was stomping out the fire in the center of your camp, the area you's lived in.

"You need any help?" he asks, his voice hushed just enough that you could hear-- smooth and deep. You shake your head 'no' and finish pulling the last knot tight before following him into the tent. The 8-man tent appears comedically small compared to his large stature as he crouches inside it. You both start to strip yourselves of your clothing, less time worn means less need for washing. It was something you'd both gotten used to over the past 6 months-- you'd both seen each other completely bare numerous times, but only ever when inside the tent or washing up in the lake.

5 months doesn't seem like much time to many, but when you're the only person someone has spoken to in over a year exclusively, it's a big deal. The day you met was a classic western-standoff: two people, 10 feet apart, guns drawn. You'd become very close in that time, the only other voices you'd heard being those of the people taking through emergency radio broadcasts in the middle of the night and those on the old blues discs you'd found.

You pull your top over your head and toss it aside, braless beneath, and, through the corner of his eye, Bucky notices the fresh bruises arranged along your back and sides. The stopping of his movement catches your attention and you turn around to see him staring at the discolored flesh, eyes regretful and mouth slightly agape. You look down, feeling bad for not telling him sooner before turning back and continuing to strip.

“I’m alright,” you assure him. You pull your socks off after ridding yourself of your jeans and stuff everything into a corner of the tent, awaiting its return to your body in the morning. You lurch forward and yelp as a searing pain engulfs your mid-back, the pain radiating throughout your ribcage. You turn around again to see Bucky sitting with his legs still crossed and clothed, and his flesh hand extended— his eyes wide with fear and curiosity.

“Don’t sound alright to me,” he remarks, inching closer to you and inspecting your injuries. He was a compassionate man, sure, but you usually attended to yourselves in situations like these. He knew you could do it yourself. You knew that he knew.

“Buck, I’m fine, honestly,” you say, not wanting him to worry. He ignores you as he wraps his large hands around your sides, squeezing gently and paying close attention to the hitches in your breathing and the whines escaping your throat as his hands explore your flesh. He stops at one particular point that has you crying out and feels around the tender muscle with his metal hand, watching to not get too close to your hips as you sit before him, completely nude.

It’s amazing how the end of the world can make people so trusting.

He pulls his hand away from your back and swivels around before pulling his dark washed jeans off of himself, his boxers following soon after. You turn and roll onto your side, laying down on the mass of blankets, sheets, comforters, and pillowcases covering the floor of the tent as a cushion, moaning as your abused torso meets the padded ground. Laying and waiting for him to dial off the lantern, you watch Bucky through tired eyes as he hides his front from you. Rude.

Every other night he’s had no problem chilling in his birthday suit with you, but now he was acting off. Self-conscious, almost.

Your brows furrow and you frown as he lays facing away from you after leaving on the lamp, not even bothering a “nite”. You figure he’s probably just upset that you never told him what happened. About your fall…

...Down 14 feet of rocks and boulders on the water’s edge. Hey, no big deal, right?

You brush it off, planning to speak with him in the morning over pine tea before rolling onto your back and getting comfortable. With a few stray blankets harnessing your body to the ground, you drift off.

You’re running. You’re running barefoot. Through thick woods you’re running and Bucky’s just a few feet ahead of you. But what’re you running from? You stop. You stop running yet Bucky continues. He doesn’t look back. He’s out of sight, yet you can still hear him clear as day. He’s breathing hard. His feet are colliding with the muddy ground, making sloppy sounds. You’re not aware of yourself anymore. Now he’s gone but you can still hear him. You can still hear-

You wake up in an instant, overheating. You sit there for a moment and just wait to test if you can fall back asleep without removing layers from yourself. Though something catches your attention that you can’t ignore. Bucky is still breathing heavily. There’s still that muddy sound.

You peel open your eyes slightly to see what’s happening, or if you’re still dreaming, and watch as Bucky’s torso jitters and his left shoulder jumps back and forth with a rhythm. You assume he’s having a nightmare, hence the heavy breathing and the sounds, which were more than likely him mouthing and whispering to himself.

You shuffle over toward him silently and place a gentle hand on his shoulder to calm him a bit, but the second your hand meets his scarred flesh, his head snaps back toward you with wide eyes and he fumbles in a hurry to cover himself up before you can register what’s happening. He sits up, facing forward and covered up to his navel in sheets— there’s a clear imprint of his dick pressing a tent into the sheet over his hips that you notice but pay no mind to. You jump back and watch him worriedly before you realize.

He was masturbating.

“Oh my fucking god. Oh my fucking god.” you mumble as you retract your hands as far back as you can from him. Not that you didn’t want to touch him, you did, but you didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he was already. The tent in the sheet wasn’t just his dick— it was his hard dick. His hard, pulsing dick.

It went really silent. Got really awkward. There you two were sat, you facing his back, both completely nude, and a shit load of sexual-awkward tension filling the air, strangling you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence. You think for a moment before leaning forward a bit and placing your hand softly on his shoulder.

“Don’t be, Bucky. We’re stuck in this damn tent together until we can get our hands on something better. You're only human…” you comfort him with your words, or at least try to. His body tenses and he takes a deep breath in before blurting out his next sentence.

“I did it thinking about you,” he spits quickly, leaving a dead stillness both inside and outside of the tent. Were the crickets making noise before? ‘Cause they aren’t now. Was it windy? Raining, maybe? ‘Cause it’s dead silent out now.

A shiver runs up your spine at his admission. Ashamed as you were of it, you’d done the same thing at least four times. Can’t sleep? Lay back, memorize his frame, and let your fingers do the work. Embarrassment and arousal infuse your blood and flush your cheeks. You know that you can’t leave him there hard and half-cocked for the rest of the night, so you do what you know you have to… and want to.

You pounce. You smoothly climb over his hips and press your lips to his, holding the back of his head and cradling it as you kiss him gently. Hesitantly, he kisses back, and the kiss quickly progresses from gentle to passionate; tongues swiping and lips sucking. From the outside, it would look forced, but both of you knew that you wanted it. After all, you were the only people each other had seen in months, maybe even a year.

His hands slowly work their way up your bare thighs to your back, pulling you closer to him and being mindful of your injuries. You bring your hands around from the back of his head to his shoulders and ease yourselves down onto the ground with you still straddling him. You part your lips and look down at the few inches of space between your wetting folds and his prominent bulge hidden under the sheet.

“You sure you want this?” you ask, bringing your eyes up to his.

“Yes,” he whispers, the cerulean blue rings of his eyes glimmering in the warm light.

He reaches his head up to you and reattaches your lips, moving his hands back down your spine toward your thighs again. You expect his hands to run down your legs again but instead are met with one hand parting your lips and the other running two fingers just over your entrance. You whimper into his mouth at the contact and he smiles into the kiss, drawing circles with his fingertips. You buck your hips down onto his hand and surprise the both of you as his fingers slip into you with zero resistance.

“Jesus Christ, you’re wet,” he whispers with a small chuckle. Quiet clicks and squelches sound around the small tent as he begins slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you. You hum in response and nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you relish the feeling of his body heat radiating from below you. He places gentle kisses to the side of your head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear as you rock your hips against his hand.

He groans at the friction so nearby to his neglected cock, a dime-sized patch of his precum soaking through the sheet as he ruts his hips upward seeking any kind of contact. You raise yourself up on your knees, still straddling him, and reach under the thin sheet. Your warm hand grips his aching cock and begins to massage it, focusing on his tip with the palm of your hand. He groans as he drops his head backward onto the ground, thrusting into your hand. His fingers speed up in you as he grows closer to his climax, anticipation fueling your bodies.

“Fuck, Bucky…” you mewl out as you drop yourself onto his hand, your entire body shaking as you rock your hips violently against him, pushing his fist into the tight muscles of his abdomen and tightening your hand around his shaft as you cum.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. His breathing becomes ragged and laboured as he squeezes his eyes shut and digs his metal fingertips into your thigh, fucking your closed fist as he finishes, too. His cum sticks to the underside of the sheet and you peel it back, tossing it downward before lowering yourself to be straddling his hips. A raging fire was now burning within you, finally lit by your first orgasm. It had taken you up until your first Bucky-induced orgasm to realize how much you’d wanted him all this time. How much you wanted to be close to him in negative space, him in you, pulsing against your red flesh as you make love.

He inhales sharply as you wrap your hand back around his softening dick, pumping him as you run his tip between your lips, prepping the both of you. Judging by his expression, he was somewhat surprised that you wanted more, but he didn’t dispute as he had all that much more to give to you. You look down at him before inserting him into you, just to ensure his permission, and after he nods at you with wide eyes you slide down onto him. You crane your neck to the side at the stretch, mouth agape as he groans from beneath you, the skin of his chin rolling as he lifts his head to watch your joining.

Once you bottom him out, you readjust your position, placing both hands on his chest and leaning a bit forward. The warmth of your bodies provides a comforting contrast to the gentle bite of the night chill, making you wish you’d gotten this close sooner. His hands find your waist as he grips your flesh, guiding you as you begin to roll your hips to his. You hum and whimper on top of him, moving slowly and listening to his guttural groans and whines as you tease. You continue the painfully dragged-out motion until he moves a stray lock of hair from your face and cups your jaw.

“Can I flip us?” he whispers, eyes trailing all across your body. You bite your lip and nod vigorously before being held close and rolled over. You knew how strong he was based on how big of a help he was in your little home of a camp but being subject to it was a whole new kind of attractive. Hovering above you, he realigns himself with your entrance and pushes in slowly, resting on his forearms by your head. Both of your bodies shift upward with each deep thrust of his, pushing as far into you as he possibly can each time. He grabs the side of your face and kisses you passionately, moaning into your mouth. You swallow his sounds, gently nibbling on his bottom lip as he pushes pleasure into you like it’s the only thing he’s ever known. Growing close, you paw at his biceps before finding his back with your nails, leaving red-raw marks in their wake.

“Bucky, Bucky…” you whisper. He groans and hips your neck softly at the chanting of his name. “I’m so close,” you sob quietly. After a few more strokes, you’re just about to cum, but not before being flipped onto your stomach with Bucky now spreading your thighs with his own, poking your ass cheek with his dick. You whine out in complaint before being muffled by his hand over your mouth as he slams back into you, silencing your cry out in bliss. His pace in the new position is primal, feral, almost. Your last orgasm having been stolen away from you, you’re left sensitive with an orgasm built up in you fighting to be let out. He pounds into you from above, only pausing to pull your hips up so you’re face down, ass up for him.

His pace rocks your body with each thrust, throwing you forward into the sheets. He makes sure every sound he makes is audible for you, as they grow louder with each thrust into your tight pussy. He snakes a hand from your hip to your clit, swiping back and forth aggressively as he pushes closer to his orgasm. The friction plus the edged orgasm denied from you earlier His pace rocks your body with each thrust, throwing you forward into the sheets. He makes sure every sound he makes is audible for you, as they grow louder with each thrust into your tight pussy. He snakes a hand from your hip to your clit, swiping back and forth aggressively as he pushes closer to his orgasm. The friction plus the edged orgasm denied from you earlier is too much for you to handle, making you snap. You wail into the sheets below as you spasm under him, hands rested out over your head like you're bowing down. The sight and the feel of you clenching and releasing around his cock gives him a major power surge, making him reach forward and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling on it as you whimper out from the overstimulation. It only takes him a few more thrusts and a few more mewls from you to lose his shit and bury himself in you, digging his fingertips into your hips and chanting “I love you”s as his tip flows hot cum into you, leaking out around him as he pulls out.

He drops onto his back beside you and you roll over into his side, catching your breath and fixing your disheveled hair as you cling to him like a koala. He puts an arm around you, caressing the skin of your back with one hand while the other grips your thigh thrown over him. It’s a peaceful, intimate moment you share, relishing in each other’s body heat and nuzzling each other’s natural scents as you cuddle. Having been through so much, so much loss, so much worry, so much grief, you can’t help but wonder ‘is this happiness?’. Laying in the low lantern light, nude and close with someone you care a lot about— is this happiness? Listening to his breathing, feeling his heart slowing from the race within his rib cage, is this... happiness?

“I meant it,” he says quietly, pulling you out of your thoughts. He moves his hand from your thigh to your face and traces the outline of your jaw with his index finger, running his thumb over your lips as he stares down into your eyes— his deep blue ones almost entirely overtaken by dilated pupils. Your eyes meet his and you can’t seem to pull your gaze away, feeling like you’re locked in his mind.

“I love you, too,” you respond, pushing your face into the crook of his neck and inhaling the smell of his musk— campfire and body odour, though they’re both mostly muted scents due to the familiarity. You hum a quiet tune, one you’re both familiar with from your discs, as you let your eyes close. Soon after, he joins in with you— harmonizing his voice with yours as you start to drift off.

#bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #fanfic #bucky barnes smut #reader insert #wattpad #bucky barnes drabble #bucky angst #bucky drabble #bucky x y/n #survivor!bucky #apocalypse smut #the walking dead

[of-many-aus]

Chapter 1

You and Bucky stumbled across some people in the middle of the woods that offered you sanctuary. It’s safe to say that the two of you are hesitant

Warnings: mentions of death and dying, weapons, creepy men, slight cursing

Us Against the World Masterlist

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The sound of leaves crunching beneath your boots was the only noise to fill your ears. A sound that had once been satisfying- calming, even. Now, deadly.

At any moment, you could step on the wrong twig, and it could alert the wrong ears. The infected could pick up on your sound first, then your scent. And once that happened, you were screwed.

From beside you, Bucky swept his narrowed eyes back and forth along the forest landscape. His hand rested purposefully right by where his hunting knife was swinging back and forth from where it was placed on his belt.

“We should make camp soon,” It was the first time you had spoken in hours. After so many years, the two of you had learned how to effortlessly communicate without actually talking. Because talking too loudly could always alert certain unwanted presences to your location.

The man beside you glanced up, squinting his eyes against the sudden harshness of the sun beating down on him and a small frown pulled on his lips, “We still have a good three hours before we even need to think about finding camp.”

You knew that, of course you knew that, and that was the reason you knew he was beginning to grow worried. Because neither of you ever requested to stop early unless something was wrong, and Bucky tended to worry when you were the one requesting it.

“I’m fine, Buck,” You automatically assured him, “Just tired s’all.”

His bright blue eyes scanned your features for another moment before he nodded, backing off, “Alright,” He agreed quietly, “We’ll get a couple more miles in and then we’ll see if we can find a cave. And if not,” He grimaced, “We’ll be sleeping in a tree.”

You cringed at the mere thought, but fell into a silence nonetheless and continued trudging on.

Not even five minutes could have passed before the rustling of leaves to the left of you two made your ears perk up and steps come to a sudden halt.

Despite the vast number of times you had gone through this process, your heart didn’t beat any slower than it did the first time you had to go through this. The same amount of panic flooded into your brain. You just knew how to better control and handle it now.

You and Bucky immediately went to stand back to back, drawing out your knives and standing in a defensive position.

It wasn’t hard to feel how tense the man’s muscular back was against your own, and the only way you didn’t mistake it for a wall was the way it rose and fell slightly with his calculatingly slow breaths.

Both of your pairs of eyes whipped around the trees and dead leaves, looking for any sign of what had made that noise. Even as the moments dragged on, you didn’t allow yourself to relax. There was no such thing as a false alarm. Not anymore.

The only thing that kept you from holding your breath the entire time was the knowledge that doing so would cut off circulation to your brain, making it harder to react within a split second like you knew you would need to when whatever was nearby showed itself.

Suddenly, four figures emerged from seemingly thin air and approached the two of you cautiously.

Though some relief flowed through your veins when you realized that they didn’t have the gray, decaying skin of the infected- instead having healthy enough looking bodies- you still didn’t allow yourself to drop your knife.

You and Bucky had run into enough other survivors in your time to know that they could oftentimes be crazier than the infected themselves. The fact that the people were carrying guns that were strapped over their necks and pointed directly at the two of you also didn’t help.

Immediately, Bucky shifted his weight so that he was standing in front of you, one hand still holding his knife in a death grip, while his other arm flew up in front of you protectively. As if that alone would stop a round of bullets from penetrating your skin.

A black man in the front of the group sighed in relief though, and dropped his weapon to his side, “Stand down, it’s not them.” He ordered the others, who did as he said without hesitation.

“We’re just passing through,” Bucky said monotonously, “We don’t want any trouble.”

The man grinned, “Yeah, I bet you don’t.” He was joking around as if the two of them had known each other for years.

Another man scowled, dropping his gun to his side, “I can’t believe we came all this way just to pick up a couple of strays.” His eyes moved from Bucky to you, and a disgusting smirk made its way onto his face as he looked your body up and down, “Although…”

A low growl left the back of Bucky's throat, something only you- who was standing close enough- could hear, but you doubted the group missed the way his fists clenched tighter and his glare became more prominent.

A blond man came over and whacked the creep on the back of the head with a gloved palm, “Don’t mind him,” He glared slightly at the man, “He doesn’t know when to shut the hell up.”

Just as the man was about to open his mouth, no doubt to let out a snarky retort, the only woman in the group- a redhead- spoke up, “We need to get going.” She said urgently, speaking to the man who seemed to be in charge, “The heard had to have grown by now.”

The black man nodded before turning back to face the two of you, “You’re welcome to join us,” He offered, “It can get pretty ugly out here when the sun goes down. The infected tend to get really riled up and rowdy around here.”

Despite the fact that Bucky stayed silent- no doubt praying that you would as well- your curiosity got the better of you, and you just had to speak up, “Welcome to join you where?” You questioned.

“We have a camp set up a few miles out,” He explained calmly, “It’s protected by tall gates and patrolled twenty four hours a day. We have at least a couple hundred people safely living inside.”

Silence fell over the group of you like an uncomfortable blanket, causing even Bucky sucked in a sharp breath at his words, and you knew it was because he was thinking the same thing as you.

It was impossible, not only to have so many people in one place, but that they were also all safe. It had to be a lie.

“I suggest you decide fast,” The blond man from before piped up, “I think the herd’s coming this way.”

Surly enough, you strained your ears and were able to hear the faint sound of groaning, growling, and heavy footsteps that always accompanied the infected. And by the sound of it, there were a lot of them heading your way.

For the first time, Bucky met your eyes, and you could tell that he was as torn as you were between your two options. Going with them and risking handing over blind trust to a bunch of strangers whom you didn’t even know the names of, or sticking around for the herd to find you.

Silently, you came to a decision, and you turned back to the four people, “We’re in.”

#us against the world series #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #apocalypse au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst

[pablopascal]

Dusk till Dawn

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader word count: 1.0k warnings: death, apocalypse au, needles, fluff, angst A/N: I wrote this a long time ago and it might me shitty and not make any sense. I hope you enjoy reading it though. I might write another part when I'm not busy. please reblog, comment, like much appreciated!! italics: always are flashbacks, conversations, letters *DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE*

-

It felt as if I was in a dark room for years. At one point, I heard something click, and crunches of shoes. Then I felt someone kiss my forehead and mumble something inaudible. After a few moments, I heard a click, then silence.

After a few moments, I heard a click, then silence It seemed like years since that moment. I assumed that I was somewhere lying down. I didn't know what time, day , week, month, nor the year. I was somewhere out of place ,and I was alone.

Suddenly there was a blurry bright light that appeared in my vision. My vision cleared up, and I saw hospital room. After seeing that I was at a hospital. I looked everywhere for a call light button but I couldn't find one.

But I saw a envelope next to me on a small chair beside my bed. Trying to figure out how to get out bed without messing up my IV.

After a few minutes, I decided to just take it out so I carefully did. I sat up trying to regain the feeling in my legs. I eventually got up slowly walking to grab the envelope.

As I got to the chair my legs felt like jello. So, I hurriedly grabbed the envelope and sat in the chair. I took a deep breath and opened the envelope and started reading it.

-

I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you wake up. I love you dearly. You have been in coma for many years with protection. I know that you don't want this burden on your shoulders. But you have to save the world, and you will have someone to help. There should be a bag with clothes and a old flip phone with one number.

I love you. Be safe.

Mom

-

I got up and slowly walked around looking for a bag. After looking under, in, and inside; I opened the door to the small bathroom that had a shower, a sink, and a toilet. I patted the walls for secret compartments.

I then walk to the the back of the toilet and opened it seeing two plastic bags. One had a backpack and the other had clothes. I check to see if the water was working and it was. So decided to wash off the dirt gathering for years.

There was already a bar of soap and a towel on the racks in here. I turned the water on but it was freezing cold and it wouldn't get warmer.

So went under the cold water, and grabbed the soap and lathered it as much as I could to wash my hair. I was almost done with washing my body with a gush of memories hit me.

-

It was James and me and we were in the shower hugging each other. I had just got the news that I was chosen for the super-soldier surgery. James came to my room to talk but he saw me crying. He consoled me and held me, but eventually it ended with us having sex. Then slowly moving to the shower where we just held each other. -

I gasped back into reality, but I wanted to go back to that moment of happiness. I sighed knowing i would never get that moment back. I slowly got out of the shower grabbing the towel to dry my body.

I grabbed the plastic bag with clothes. I opened it up to see a black pair of jeans, a grey t-shirt, panties, a sports bra, socks, and my old combat boots.

I put on the clothes piece by piece. After awhile I was sitting on the toilet rummaging through the backpack. So far I've got needed feminine products and a few extra panties, bras, shirts, and jeans.

Finally, of the minutes of rummaging through I found the cellphone. I went to the contacts on the phone and saw the name James.

It felt as if my heart dropped to my stomach. I was hesitant to click call, but maybe it was a different James.

In my heart I did want it to be him, but why would he wait. He probably found someone better and was probably happier. He's can't be here waiting. I clicked dial and the familiar sound of clicking when someone answers.

" I'm awake. I don't know where to go. Is this you James? Bucky? please, answer." I said with stuttering and voice of sadness .

"Yes. It's me. Y/n, I want you to walk to the stairs till you reach the first floor." He replied.

I let out deep breath and asked " what year is it?"

"It's 2045. You grab everything from the room your in and come to me. Okay?" He said to me.

"Okay. I'm coming. Are you the only one there?" I asked.

"Yes. Now hurry you have to save the world." He said teasingly, but truthfully.

I hurried at packing all I needed or thought I needed into my backpack. The last thing I grabbed was a necklace by my hospital bed. I remember that it was the one my mother had given me for my birthday.

I unhooked it and put it on. Then I grabbed the backpack full of things. I walked around the floor I was on looking for the stair well. Soon I found it opening it up and looked at the number 400. I'm on the fourth floor.

I started my journey down the stairs. I slowly walked as I got closer to the first floor. Do I want to see him I questioned myself as I got to the second floor. Of course I do, I miss him so much.

I was talking to myself so much that I had reached the first floor without barely noticing. I grabbed the door handle and stared awhile at it. I started to slowly open it as if I was going into a danger zone.

As I fully looked up I saw the familiar icy blue eyes of James. I stared for I don't now how long before I spoke.

"James..."

-

#james bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes imagine #apocalypse #au bucky barnes #fluff #angst #bucky angst #bucky x female reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert #james barnes #bucky barnes #Masterlist pablopascal

[moiravim]

The Sacrifice Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x yn

Zombie Apocalypse au

Warnings: zombies, death (not yn or Bucky), weapons, mention of hydra, scary themes

875 words

@doingyourmom069 helped me write 💖💖

Only two years ago, the infection had started. It makes no sense that I'm one of the few people left alive.

There's not much to do other than walk around,hoping you'll find somewhere safe. Just in case I always have a weapon in hand.

I let out a gasp as I hear clanking footsteps somewhere near. I look around, searching for a lifeless creature, one we've been calling 'an infected'.

I see it in the corner of my eye. I sharply turn around to see it staring back at me. It quickly charges towards me. I run as fast as I can while creating a logical idea in my head.

I see a fence that most likely had belonged to an abandoned campsite. I jumped the fence and continued running, not realizing it had followed me inside.

Since when could zombies climb? It didn't matter because it was getting closer, and I was running out of time. I quickly pulled a long knife out and turned around, preparing to face the undead creature.

I stab it in the neck as it runs into me. Right when it's about to bite me, I hear loud gunshots. I look down at its lifeless body.

I quickly back away, turning around to seeing man my age staring back at me. He lets out an annoyed breath of air before shaking his head.

"Holy shit, thanks, man." I spoke, voice slightly trembling. In an attempt to catch my breathe I perch down. "Yeah sure, no problem. Were you bit?" He asks in a serious tone.

"No, I haven't been bit." I respond, sounding startled. I roll up my sleeves, showing him my arms to prove it. He seems to have believed it, so now I ask him a question. "Have you been bit?" My voice laced with suspicion.

"No if I was bit I wouldn't of saved your ass." He stated with annoyed eyes squinting slightly in the process.

After he finished taking the silence that took over was so awkward you feel yourself almost struggling to breathe, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Instead of letting the silence grow I choose to introduce myself. "So... I'm y/n, and you are...?" I look him in the eyes awaiting an answer. He responds "Bucky."

He dosent even attempt to smile so you figure you should at least attempt to crack a joke.He laughs loudly before returning back to his stotic self. I chuckle before asking "Have you eaten yet?" He responds "No I haven't, have you?" You answer "I haven't, let me cook dinner. I got some new supplies earlier today that I can use."

He goes to sit down on an awkward block of wood while I begin preparing the food. I pull out a gas burner and a soup pot I had recently found. Opening my backpack, I grabbed the grocery bag containing vegetables I had found just a few hours prior.

I had started making the broth last night, so now all I had to do was cook. I sit patiently, waiting for the food to finish. I turn my head to look at Bucky, preparing to ask him a question. "Can you look around the campground for some bowls? Maybe spoons?" I ask him slightly annoyed.

"Sure thing." He says in a ambitious tone. He walks away as I turn back around to continue cooking out food.

I hear the sound of someone stepping on leaves, I turn around to see him returning with a box filled with bowls, plates, and silverware. He helps pour the soup into each bowl before handing one to me. I grab a spoon, thanking him and then tasting the soup I prepared.

I begin attempting to spark up a conversation. "So... You've been traveling alone this whole time?" I curiously ask him.

"No. No, I haven't. Only for a month or so." He responded dismally. I nodded, showing sympathy for him. "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."

He looks at me with an annoyed face before responding, "My friends Sam, Steve, and I used to survive together. Sam... Sam's gone. Dead. After Sam's death, Steve and I had gotten separated."

I noticed tears starting to pour in his eyes so I decided to change the topic. "Me and my friend Natasha lived together when all of this started. We got separated, too..." He looks at me pitifully and rubs my shoulder, attempting to comfort me.

I slightly smile at him sadly, and he smiles back. "You can stay here for the night if you'd like." He offers.

"I'm leaving this site in the morning. You can choose to stay here or come with me." He adds before putting his finished bowl of soup down. I nodded, letting him know I heard and understood what he said.

When I finish eating, I begin to get ready for bed, laying down on my sleeping bag, I almost immediately feel a wave of exhaustion hit, practically passing out right when my head hits the sleeping bag.

A/N: This first chapter was sm fun to write 🤣🤣 I already have chapters 1-6 planned so expect more parts coming soon!!

#marvel x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #zombie apocalypse au #marvel zombies #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel zombie au

[espinosaurusrexex]

WORLDS COLLIDE Bucky when the apocalypse started “Survivor”

P.S. you will see many more AI images here. I am obsessed okay? Credit to owner - Animarvelita is really fueling my obsessions over on TikTok 💓☠️

#wc edits #worlds collide #apocalypse au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #the winter solider imagine #winter solider imagine #winter soldier x reader #captain america winter soldier #the winter soldier x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Time (D)rift 2

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, blood, violence, and possible other triggers. Warnings may not be explicit or exhaustive.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own. (Apocalypse AU)

Sister series to Edge of Time

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: I work until Thursday and have Friday off. i’m trying not to push myself and have nothing planned for the holiday. My family situation is kinda more obvious this time of year so I’m just tryna be chill.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Winds whistle over the walls as you walk the perimeter. The guard keeps a few feet back, distracted as he shifts his gun and spits stale tobacco into the snow. You carry the metal clipboard and make notes, marking the diagram of the wall with any areas of concern. 

The task feels redundant as there's rarely more than the usual dimples in the brick or chipping of mortar. Besides, frost covers much of the wall and you're not permitted close enough to brush it away. You stop at the southeast corner and twist the pencil between your gloved fingers. The tree peeking over from the other side seems close…

You don't look long and slide the pencil under the metal clip. You turn back to the guard as he pulls at his thick vest. He chews loudly and horks again, right between your boots.

"Done?" His tongue makes a moist noise against his teeth. 

You nod.

"Mm," he takes the clipboard roughly and tilts his head back towards the cluster of buildings, "go'n."

You don't hesitate. Your boots crunch over the snow as more drifts onto the rolled edge of your hat. Your morning had been spent shoveling and you'd have more to do already. No shipments to keep you inside and warm.

Parker Row, the tall brick buildings with their ever pluming chimneys, loom against the grey sky. You pass and refuse to look over as two guards chatter and climb up the steps. There always seems to be someone coming or going.

At the Cannery, named for the line where you package the produce by hand, crimping cans with the clunky levers, the steady swing of shovels greets you as you climb the steps. A task awaits you inside as Al pushes crates along a long table; he sends Johann off with two meant for the castle as he sees you. He whistles and beckons you over.

"To the Row," he drags a crate over. You see a glimpse of the foil wrapped chocolate between the slats and can smell the rich coffee wafting from within.

You put your hands on the sides but don't lift it, "I can take one of the others–"

"Take it," he demands, "don't got time."

You sigh and lift the box. It's heavy as glass clunks. Wine, whiskey, maybe even some of the hoppy beer from the brewhouse. You retrace your steps and emerge back into the hollow swirl of the endless winter.

You pass between the shovelers. A shovel would be good, for more than just snow. You could hop a narrow river, more likely use it as a weapon. Not many of those to be had, but more than enough aimed in your direction. 

Another coat, extra socks, matches if they can be found, or a lighter… that's a hard get. No canned shit, too heavy, too noisy. Maybe rope? You can't carry much, not if you want to stay on your feet.

Shit, you went too far. You turn back towards Parker Row. You're getting ahead of yourself. Before you can even think of scaling the wall, you need an opportunity. Wait it out, you just hope you're not waiting too long.

You ascend the powdered steps and a guard gives a dull glance to you and your haul. He shifts over to pull up to cloth over the top of the box and shrugs you onward. You enter and look around the large entry way, the scent of burning incense mingling with that of the aged wooden banister. 

Where do you go?

The floorboards creak under your feet and you peer through the doorway to your left. You nearly gasp as a guard's bare ass peeks out above his slumped pants, the slapping of flesh interspersed with the trilled whines of the woman bent over the couch, only her legs visible to you. You quickly spin and march to the opposite door. A dining room with tables littered with unwashed glasses and empty bottles. 

You continue through to the next doorway and find the kitchen. It's abandoned too but you hear some fervour in the pantry, the door slightly ajar as giggle unfurl into moans. You put the crate on the worn wooden counter and back away.

As you face the door, a body appears in the frame, scarlet fabric fluttering around her as she calls back, "should be some wine, hon–"

Cordelia, Corey to you, swallows her words as she sees you, "oh, it's you."

You bounce on your heels, "delivery."

She looks beyond you and her groomed brows pop up, "wonderful," she swishes past you, her tits visible through the sheer robe, "you didn't get the perfume, did you?"

"I only brought what they gave me," you go to the door as she shuffles through the crate.

"You know, it's not so bad here," she says, "warm…"

"Glad to see you're doing well."

"You could clean up a bit and I'm sure–"

You ignore her and keep on, leaving her to her greedy search. A man sits shirtless at one of the tables waiting for her, scratch marks down his chest. You try not to look as he plays with his belt.

You quickly flit through the door and to the next, fleeing back into the grim hues. The guard doesn't acknowledge you as you tramp down the steps. Your heart races as your mind strays further.

Is that what it was like for her? Not Corey, she's just another one. Your sister. Is that how she spent her last year? Just so she could hand you off an extra scrap or two? She never said. You never asked. 

You quickly dislodge the thought. That was ages ago. She was just the last one you lost, the last one you would lose. She wasn't special, none of you are. 

It's like she was never even there, that she never truly lived. Like a figment of your mind that you could just forget. Just another sliver in your heart dulled by the greater struggle of your existence. 

You weren't going to end up there. After so long, you weren't going to give in just for some chocolate and a warm bed. Not for the cost of it.

There was little you had in this world, little more than yourself and you wouldn't give that away again. 

❄️

The bonfire lights up the west end of the settlement, the furor keeping most awake. You included.

You surrender to the restlessness and check the small pack crushed beneath your bunk. Not much but what you could get. Weeks of scrounging and searching and little to show for it. Would it be any better outside?

You peek into the hallway, bodies at the barred windows, watching the celebration from a distance. If that's what it is. You don't know the reason for the fiery affair.

You turn back to your room, this might be it. A distraction, even if dangerous. The grounds will be crawling with guards but with any luck they'll be drunk and dumb.

You pull on the extra sweater, patches sewn over the fraying holes and button up your coat over your scarf, wound high around your face. You put your hat on and every pair of mismatched socks you have, then your boots. You slip the pack over your shoulders, only one more piece needed.

Back in the hallway, the distant flicker glares in around the observers. You wait a moment before tiptoeing out, quickly swinging around the corner. Downstairs, all is quiet, no work is done this late. Or early. It's hard to tell the difference.

You ease down the stairs, leaning heavily on the wall as each step creaks and sends your heart lurching. You get to the bottom and gulp. This is it, this is the line. Once you cross it, there's no going back.

The storeroom is locked. The barrier nearly detering you entirely. You should have expected it. Are you really prepared for this?

You can make it without–

It's almost too good to be true. You stop short as you look to the front door. An errant shovel against the wall, forgotten. You cross the room cautiously and reach out disbelieving for the tool. Nothing happens. 

You take it and hold it steady as you peek through the bars along the window next to the door. There's the back door, where the waste stinks in piles until a crew loads it into trucks to be taken to some remote dumping ground. It'd the safest way out.

You curl around the staircase, the stench of the garbage drawing you on, assuring you of your path. You nearly retch as you get to the door and pause before twisting the handle. You could sigh as it opens easily but hold your breath against the reek.

You descend, leaving the door slightly ajar to keep from making noise. You almost clang the shovel head off the ground as you do and weave between the rotting bags and frozen cans.

The settlement is eerie as you head east away from the fire's orange haze. You keep to the shadow of the unlit buildings as you near the wall, the corner where the tree peeks over the top as if trying to see in. You take off your pack and your scarf, securing the shovel across your back before pulling the bag over it to keep it doubly snug.

Your first try has you mulching back into the snow. You stagger as you wonder at your own absurdity. Did you really think it would be easy? A second try isn't any more successful. You grow nervous from the noise of it. 

You take off your gloves and shove them into your pockets, the cold nipping at your exposed skin. You feel along the wall and find a divot in the mortar. You start again, progress eased as you can feel the wall and all its imperfections.

You pant out damp mist as you get higher, adrenaline thrumming, and your fingers ache as the temperature throbs in the joints. Your go higher and higher, dizzy from the cold and the height. Your foot slips and you sling your arm up, nearly falling before digging in your fingertips. 

You grunt and strain to haul up a single leg. You fight to drag your body onto the top of the wall and see the flames burning amid the groups of men as their raucous voices carry over the snow. You brace yourself, the moon casting a little too much light for comfort. 

You sit up and shakily set your feet  squatting low before launching yourself off the top and closing your eyes as you grasp at air. If you miss, the snow might dampen the fall, or make your demise a little slower.

You hit a branch and latch on, breathless as it dips beneath your weight. You whimper and hook your legs around the bark. You shimmy to the trunk, bumping your head as you remain blind to the world. Finally, you muster the courage to open your eyes.

You look up at the sky and listen. You can hardly hear anything within the walls from out their. Just the gales and gusts as mountains of snow blow between the barren trees and rundown buildings standing open-mouthed to the moonlight.

Your descent is perilous, frightful, and you fall the last few feet, snow dusting up and clumping along your hood and hat. You rise, the blankets past your knees, and start off. No direction, there's no where in particular to go. Only away, to your death or worse.

❄️

The night thins to a dull morning, the grim sky watches you pass between baren pines, twigs and sticks crunching under the snow. Your toes are numb, fingers too. Your nose is tender against the inside of your scarf as you carry the shovel in hand.

Second thoughts plague you but can't be followed. No going back. Your tracks are likely already guiding those who noticed your absence, if at all. The punishment for leaving is rarely a safe return.

You cross a river, half- frozen, and continue on to a snow buried house with only three walls. It's not obvious enough to be a first thought and you pray it snows before you can be trailed. You settle in a corner, shielded by a broken table as you curl up with your pack.

You wake up twice as cold, covered in snow and unable to stop shivering. You're stiff, barely able to sit up. You open the bag of crackers, stale and baked in the camp oven. You have a few and make yourself get up. It's almost night again.

You fall back down as a light flashes on the other side of the wall. You burrow into the snow as best you can and stay behind the table. Boots compress the layers of snow as they surveil the exterior.

"Saw tracks further back, don't think she came this way."

"If she's still around, picked the right time to make a break. Probably buried halfway down a hill," the other responds. You know his voice, Barton.

"You're the one wanted to chase her," another man.

"Shut the fuck up," Barton hisses, "do your fucking jobs."

Is it coincidence? Does he know it's you specifically? Would he even remember you?

You ball your fist and try to meter your breath. Time slows as you listen to the snap of sticks and the clatter of furniture.

"What does it matter if we only find a corpse? Huh? Shit, it's one girl–"

"It's about setting an example," Barton snarls, "come on then, show me where you think she went. How long you been tracking idiots? Not like it wasn't my fucking career before–"

"No one gives a shit about before," another man cuts in.

"What were you? A pencil pusher? Now you think you're tough cause the cards fell in your direction–" you hear splutter, a grunt, and the weight of a body in the snow, "nothing now."

A lull as treads sink into the snow, "we'll keep looking boss."

"Nah, she ain't that smart. She'll be running til nightfall."

You close your eyes and shudder. It takes some time for them to leave, the slamming of car doors and mutters signaling their departure. You wait until there's nothing but the wind and the dead man left in the heap.

It's almost night as you get away from the ravage of the torn down house. You head away from the tire tracks, hoping to hide behind some buildings or trees, anything to obscure you as the moon crests. You reach a valley, sliding down halfway clumsily, planting the shovel to keep from reaching the bottom.

You make slow progress, the shovel keeping you afoot as you fight through the thick snow. You're out of breath and weak but you can't stop. You won't, even if you freeze, even if you die. 

You don't want to be another body hastily disposed of. You'd rather rot into the earth. Rather die than live out the purgatory of a ruined world.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #time (d)rift #series #edge of time #apocalypse au #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #avengers #dark fic #dark!fic #au

[lillywillow]

A Cure For The Plague

Summary: The survivors of the zombie apocalypse hear of somewhere that may have found a cure.

 Written for: @buckybarnesbingo

 Words: 2354

 Square Filled: Y3- What Doesn’t Kill Me Makes Me Mad

 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader  

 Warnings: Horror themes, angst, mentions of character deaths

 A/N: Set in the What If… Zombies?! Episode but written slightly differently. Also be prepared for some zombie/ horror related media references.

 Ever since the zombie apocalypse began, people frantically searching for a cure. What was left of the Avengers heard about a breakthrough and headed to a facility upstate by the river. Sadly, they lost friends along the way but maybe there was a chance to bring them back if this rumour of a cure was true. The closer they got to their destination, the more it resembled a jungle.

 The group of survivors cautiously made their way off the train having to make it into the jungle on foot. Bruce carried Hope as she grew progressively weaker. Okoye’s hands were tight around her spear and Bucky’s finger was on the trigger of his gun ready to shoot at anything that moved, his other hand holding up the shield ready to protect. Peter and Kurt were on edge, flinching at any sound. The air had the stench of decay, stagnant water and something chemical.

 “You don’t think there are any giant mutant vampire mosquitos around here that will suck out all our blood, do you?” Peter wondered out loud.

 “Not now!” Okoye hissed.

 “But…”

 “Guys, Hope’s not doing so good. We need to get her inside as soon as possible,” Bruce interrupted.

 Before anyone else could speak, a zombie jumped out the water and attacked. Bucky and Okoye were ready to defend but neither got the chance as the zombie was wrapped in vines and dragged to the gaping maw of the biggest Venus fly traps they had ever seen.

 “It’s like that thing out of plumber brothers!” Kurt cried.

 “What the -”

 “Move, Parker!” Bucky ordered.

 A hoard of zombies started creeping in. Bucky and Okoye held them off but to their surprise, the vegetation around them started attacking the zombies too, picking them off as fast as they were going down. Someone in a hazmat suit ran out of the building towards the group.

 “This way!” she ordered.

 They followed the woman to an elevator, all cramming in. The ride down was full of tension.

 “Can you help? She’s been infected,” Bruce explained.

 “How long ago?” the woman asked.

 “About five minutes…”

 “Has she died yet?”

 “Not yet.”

 “There may still be time… We have to hurry.”

 Once they had reached the ground floor, she ushered them into the lab.

 “Cain! Conners! We got something!”

 Two men came running to assist, taking Hope into another room and hooking her up to machines to check her vitals. One of the men tilted her head to the side and filled a syringe with some kind of fluid.

 “Let’s try 15ccs…”

 The team watched as he injected the fluid into the base of her skull.

 “Now all we can do is wait…”

 The scientists instructed the team to wait outside as they locked the door and monitored from a distance. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity. The EKG beeped with every beat of Hope’s heart… until it went into one continuous beep. Bucky placed a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder as the boy tried not to fall to pieces.

 “Give it another minute. If she doesn’t respond, you know what to do,” the woman instructed.

 They waited with bated breath when suddenly, the steady beat returned. Hope began to move.

 “What… where am I? What happened?” she groggily asked.

 The three scientists cheered with the success of their experiment.

 “We’ll run observations, you take them to quarantine,” one of the men instructed the woman.

 She nodded and headed off.

 “Follow me.”

 The group followed her to the quarantine station where they were sanitised and had their vitals checked. Once they were given the all clear, they could be reunited with Hope and formally introduced to the people that had saved her life.

 “I’m Doctor Y/N L/N, and these are my associates, Doctor Curt Connors and Doctor Dan Cain. We were giving lectures in a nearby university when the virus hit. With my work in botany and plant stem cells, Connors’ work in herpetology and regeneration cells combined with Cain’s work in neurosurgery and neuroscience, we were able to come up with a cure. I also developed the plants out there to protect us…”

 The group all introduced themselves to the three doctors who then took them to the rest of the survivors who were mostly students and faculty from the university along with a few others. There Okoye was reunited with King T’Challa and Hope was reunited with Scott, albeit as a disembodied head. The scientists explained their earlier experiments were still in their infancy but they at least had some success.

 “I tried to tell them about that movie where the guy brings back the dead but who would believe a talking head? I should get a job in a sideshow,” Scott laughed. “Sorry. I tend to process traumatic events by joking.”

 “You know, I could probably regrow that arm of yours,” Connors stated, looking at Bucky’s metal arm.

 “I don’t think so,” Bucky replied, tensing up.

 “You sure? We’ve made some remarkable progress,” Connors said, wiggling the fingers of his right hand.

 “Connors, leave him be. If he’s fine the way he is, then he’s fine. Not everyone needs to have their limbs regrown,” you interjected.

 “Suit yourself,” he shrugged, walking off to talk with Peter.

 As it turned out, Connors had given a few talks at Peter’s school.

 “Thanks for that,” Bucky softly smiled at you.

 “You’re welcome. For the record, I think you look great the way you are,” you smiled back.

 “Hey, any chance we can look around this place?” Bruce asked, interrupting your moment.

 “Sure. Right this way.”

 You showed the newcomers around the base which was built to be a bunker during the cold war era but was never used. There were still tunnels running all over the city which was convenient to avoid the zombies up top. You showed them the gardens, both the vegetable and defensive plant ones and explained to them about the complicated Haber-Bosch system that allowed you to grow plants in such a short amount of time. That was one benefit of having a group of mostly academics. The scientific minds of the newcomers understood but Bucky was a little lost. Then you took them to the site of your greatest failure so far. Contained behind glass was a zombie dressed in a red and black suit. When it saw you coming closer, it pressed itself up against the glass and licked it. Bucky turned his nose up in disgust.

 “This was Wade Wilson. We thought his regenerative powers could be the key into creating the cure but instead, they somehow mutated and now we’re stuck with a zombie that can’t and won’t die. We can’t even mulch him like the others…”

 “Wait a minute, you have been turning people into plant food?! That is so messed up! You don’t just feed people to plants unless maybe they’re wifebeaters!” Kurt shouted.

 Bucky watched as you tensed up.

 “You are in no position to judge me; to judge us. I watched some of my closest friends die. Dan had to watch his girlfriend be violently attacked. Curt had his arm torn off. We have had to make decisions that nobody should have to make… the tour ends here,” you calmly stated, trying not to let all your rage boil over.

 You were shaking and your eyes shone with unshed tears. You turned and walked away before you let them see you become emotional. Bucky took one last look at the zombie licking the glass before following you.

 He found you tending to your arsenal of plants. You gently spoke to them as you sprayed them with a fertilizer.

 “What a good little triffid you are. Soon you’ll be big enough to go out and protect us from those nasty zombies. Yes you will,” you cooed.

 “Hey,” Bucky gently greeted.

 “Oh, hello. Come to judge me like your friend?” you bitterly replied.

 “I’m not here to judge you and he’s not really my friend… I just came to see if you wanted some company…”

 You shrugged and continued tending to the seedlings.

 “For what it’s worth, I do know what it’s like to make those tough decisions. I’ve had to take out some of my really good friends. You want to hold back because this thing has the face of someone you once cared about but you also have to remember, this thing isn’t them anymore and it won’t hold back if it gets you first…”

 Bucky thought about Steve and Sam. They didn’t deserve to go the way they did and it certainly wasn’t fair that he was the one who had to face them.

 You turned to look at him and saw the honesty and anguish on his face. With a kind smile, you gently placed your hand on his arm.

 “Do you want to help me tend the garden? I find it can be very cathartic…” you offered.

 “I think I’d like that…”

…

 For the next few weeks, Bucky helped you to tend the garden finding he had quite a knack for horticulture while also working with the other survivors to help strengthen the base. He also spent as much time as he could with you, learning everything about you. Bucky could really feel himself falling for you.

 With a few recon missions, more survivors were found and brought back and with each successful person brought back, you were one step closer to curing this infernal disease.

 Then disaster struck.

 It was the middle of the night when there was a huge commotion. Bucky woke up, instinctively grabbing his gun and shield as chaos erupted.

 “Wilson’s escaped!”

 Bucky ran to the containment unit to confront the zombie Deadpool. Unfortunately, he had bitten a few of the survivors which were fast approaching. Okoye and T’Challa stepped in to fight off the incoming wave, holding them off while Bucky went one on one with Deadpool. Wade was just as skilled at fighting as he was when he was alive, making him a difficult opponent. He snapped at Bucky, his jaws biting down on his metal arm.

 “Hey, Wade!” you called.

 The zombified merc with the mouth stopped to look at you. You were holding up something that was wet and red.

 “Come and get the chimichanga!”

 Wade stopped, his mouth curling up to something that resembled a smile.

 “Ah… Brains…” he gurgled, running after you.

 “Did he just…?”

 You ran as fast as you could to avoid getting attacked by Wade and once you reached the glass cage, you threw the thing into it with a wet smack. Wade gleefully pounced on it and once he was in, you locked the door behind him.

 “Did you really just happen to have a brain on hand to give to him just in case?” Bucky asked, seeing you had the situation under control.

 “Of course not… it was a red dyed cauliflower. He can’t even tell the difference,” you panted.

 “You can’t keep him in here anymore. It’s too dangerous now,” Bucky stated.

 “I know… But what else can we do? He literally can’t die and we can’t let him loose on the rest of the world. We’ve already tried curing him once but the virus mutates and he becomes a zombie again…”

 “Have you tried it with just his head? I mean, you’ve come so far in your research, maybe there’s something to it…”

Bucky’s words made you think. Wade did still seem to have some cognitive recognition and there were a few times he responded to the reagent.

 “That… might just work…”

 You went with Bucky to tell your co-workers the idea.

…

 With Bucky’s help, you were able to lure Wade to the lab with a trail of cauliflowers. You strapped him down and used the same process you did to remove Scott’s head and placed it in a jar, carefully adding the reagent to it. Starting with small doses first, you gradually added a little more each time until finally, he was normal again. Well, normal as he could get.

 “Hey, you got any brains to eat? I’m starving!” he laughed. “I’m kidding. Sort of. I won’t let it go to my head though!”

 “And now there’s two of them,” Bucky grumbled.

 “Don’t worry about it,” you smiled, going to tend to your garden again.

 Bucky once again followed.

 “Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you something…”

 “Yes?” you hummed, carefully repotting a large sundew.

 “What… what is your relationship with those two guys you’ve been working with?”

 “My colleagues?”

 “Yeah… are you… dating either of them?”

 “No. Dan had a girlfriend when this all started happening and is still not over her death and Curt… well, let’s just say he’s not my type…”

 “What… what is your type?”

 You wiped your hands on your pants legs and walked over to him.

 “I like a guy who’s tall… strong… protective… has a gorgeous head of hair…”

 “I see…”

 “Do you really?” you asked, placing your hands on his chest.

 “I… I know this isn’t the most ideal place but… I’d really like to start dating you…”

 “I’d like that too, Bucky…”

 “Could I… kiss you?” he softly asked.

 “Of course…”

 As Bucky pressed his lips to yours, you felt the most alive since the apocalypse started.

…

 In the days that followed, you and Bucky started dating the best you could given the circumstances. The world was still in a hot mess but as long as you had each other, you felt like you could survive anything. Maybe one day with all the progress you had been making, you could finally be rid of the virus that infected the earth.

#Bucky Barnes #buckybarnesbingo2022 #bbb2022 #What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Mad #A Cure For the Plague #bucky barnes x reader #plant vs zombies #Botany #what if zombies #zombies #apocalypse au #deadpool #peter parker #horror #curt connors #dan cain #okoye #kurt goreshter #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot

[foreverindreamlandd]

Awake My Soul • 16

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 5k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, healing from trauma, mentions of injuries, liiiil bit of angst BUT MOSTLY FLUFF I SWEAR :)

A/N: Last chapter before the epilogue, folks. Please enjoy all the fluff in this one. Thank you a million times over for your patience. Will try to get the epilogue to you as soon as possible. <3

Series Masterlist

**There is a playlist for this fic, but linking it here messes up the tags so feel free to check it out in the series masterlist!

It was raining.

The soft pitter patter of water droplets as they landed on the roof of the watchtower created a steady, calming cadence for your ears.

Behind you, Morgan, AJ, and Cass squealed in delight as they ran around in the mud and rain with their new friends, Billy and Tommy, twin brothers. 

Once you had settled yourself back to camp, you requested to switch your watch shift to the day. Nights were still hard for you, and though you rarely slept through them anymore, it felt safer to be in the dorms where your family was just a few feet away rather than being outside  by yourself in the dark. 

The dark was still hard for you after all that time locked in that pitch black room with Hydra. 

The only argument Sam had was whether it was too soon for you to return to your regular duties, but you quickly waved him off. It was worse sitting around doing nothing, allowing intrusive thoughts and agonizing memories to enter your mind. You preferred getting your hands dirty as you picked the grown vegetables in the garden, or cleaning the weapons in your arsenal room.

And being here, on watch, where you could escape to whatever world existed between the pages of the book you were currently reading.

You stuck with comfort reads lately, first picking up Ella Enchanted to come back to something familiar, something grounding. Now, you were flipping through Along for the Ride by Sarah Dessen, a book you read at least five times during your days as a young, angsty teen.  

Resting the book on the ground beside you, you turned your gaze to watch the kids play, a  small smile on your lips. From the corner of your eye you saw the twin’s mom, Wanda, standing against one of the brick buildings. Her arms crossed in front of her, and she was laughing at the eruption of giggles coming from her boys.

Lord knows how long it had been since they had laughed like that.

The Maximoffs were one of the dozens of prisoners held at the Hydra camp. Shield had helped as many as they could escape, guiding them through the woods and providing any resources they could as you began your trek home. 

Many of the prisoners broke away a few days after the rescue, itching to go find any remaining members of their previous group.

Wanda’s husband Vision approached to join her in watching them play, wrapping an arm around his wife and kissing the crown of her head as she leaned into him.

From what you learned from the Maximoffs, Wanda had been separated from Vision and the twins for months after being captured by Hydra. Up until a few weeks ago when Shield blew the underground prison to the ground, she had nearly driven herself mad thinking they were all dead.

For the entire journey back to camp, she did not let her boys stray more than five feet from her, and you could see the distress in her eyes whenever she wasn’t holding their hands or holding them in her arms.

Turning your focus back to the outskirts of camp, you extended your arm out, letting the rain splash into the palm of your hand.

It had been so long since you were able to enjoy rain like this. To let its natural tempo steady your heartbeat, for the heightened smell of the trees around you settle your mind, to focus on the feeling of its cool droplets against your skin.

You closed your eyes, letting this small comfort bring ease to your senses. 

A soft whistle sounded off behind you, and your heart fluttered in response. Seconds later, strong arms wrapped you from behind, and gentle lips were pressing lightly on a faded bite mark on your neck.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he whispered, chin resting on your shoulder.

Your hand when on his arm, thumb running up and down the sleeve of his Henley. “Hi, Bucky.”

Bucky let out a small breath of relief at the sound of his name on your lips, pulling away just enough to take hold of your chin and slowly glide your gaze to him.

You stared into those stunning blue eyes, and all of the adoration shining within them as he gauged your reaction to saying his name. Looking for any sign of discomfort, his body relaxing more and more when he determined you were okay.

This was the new routine the two of you had established since beginning your journey of ripping yourself of Hydra’s hold. It took…a lot of patience and learning from you both, and had been far from easy.

When you first cleared your mind of its clouded, confused state after Bucky had been bitten by the runner, the two of you naively thought that you were totally free from the brainwashing that had been done to you. There were so many happy tears, lots of kissing, and lots of smiles as relief flooded through you.

That night, after the rest of Shield had reunited and built camp on the outskirts of the rubble with the rescued prisoners, you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling like everything was going to be okay.

But apparently the nightmares still remained in the darkest depths of your mind, and you were back in the woods running from Bucky. When you woke to concerned eyes, you let out a blood-curdling scream, fighting and clawing your way free from the monster before you. 

Moments later, after a lot of heavy breathing and his calm, soothing voice, you registered where you were and who you were with, collapsing into his chest as sobs overtook you, your brain trying to put itself back together again.

It was one of the worst moments of your life, witnessing the pain in his eyes, the fear that a part of you would always be afraid of him. 

It didn’t end there. Sometimes he would walk up to you too quietly and you would whip around pressing a dagger to his neck. Whenever you said his name, the pain of the collar that was no longer around your neck resurfaced so aggressively that you would keel over in agony.

And though each of these moments devastated Bucky, he was determined to stay by your side and help you through each trigger, determined to help you fight the demons that still lingered in your mind.

You were both determined to make sure that wouldn’t happen. Which was what prompted “The System.” 

Him whistling whenever he was approaching from behind to make you aware of his presence, you saying his name over and over and over again to chip away the pain it caused in your neck from the phantom collar.

Sleeping in separate spaces. That had been the hardest, going to bed desperately wishing to have your greatest protector and friend but having to force yourselves to be apart so that you wouldn’t wake up thinking he was trying to kill you.

Baby steps. It was what you had told yourself during those early days of knowing Bucky, when you were trying to get him to not hate your guts. It had worked then, and you hoped it would work now.

And of course it did, because everything involving you and Bucky would always work out. It had to.

It happened when you were walking the halls of the dorms late one night, returning to your room from the bathroom. When you passed Bucky’s door, you heard sounds of distress.

At first, you wondered if it was in your head, but then you heard the faint cry of Bucky calling for help, and you were by his side in an instant.

You touched his arm. “Bucky?” There was a slight sting in your neck but you fought back a wince.

His eyes were closed, face scrunched in agony. “Help. Help.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, hand going to his sweat-covered forehead.

“Can’t…can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t find her.”

Your brows furrowed. “Can’t find who?”

Tears fell from his closed eyes. “Y/n. She’s gone,” he whimpered. “I can’t find her. I need her.”

It broke your heart to hear the pain in his voice, the despair, and without a second thought you crawled into bed, holding him tightly in your arms as he clung to you.

“It’s okay, Bucky,” you whispered, kissing his forehead. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Your comforting words made him release a long, heavy sigh, and his hands squeezed around your waist in desperation.

His breathing remained ragged for a little while longer, but eventually, with you whispering comforting words, he relaxed.

You tried to stay awake all night, dreading the idea of you falling asleep while he was in such turmoil and waking up in a state of terror being near him, not wanting to be the cause of more heartache for him.

But the nightmares that had incessantly haunted your dreams had made your nights restless, and you were completely exhausted. So eventually, as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier, you dozed off into a deep slumber.

This time, instead of running through the woods, you were standing in the clearing he had once taken you to. You watched a handful of wild horses - one of them a stunning blue-gray color - galloping along the lush field, the warm sunlight of golden hour on your face, sky aglow in various shades of pink, orange, and purple.

It was so…peaceful.

You felt something brush along your neck, and instead of panic, you felt warmth course through you.

Bucky pulled his lips away as you turned to him, his eyes shining in the bright sunlight. He was so beautiful, so happy as he looked at you.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his and resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you staring out into the clearing, no thoughts of danger or fear in your mind whatsoever.

Only love.

When you woke up that morning, the smile was still on your face.

It dropped when you noticed Bucky was no longer in bed with you, but sitting on the floor, back resting against the bed.

He turned to look at you, a shameful look in his eyes like a sad puppy.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

You propped yourself up on your elbow. “Sorry for what?”

His lips curved up in a joyless smile. “Somehow forcing you in here. And then for being selfish and not leaving before you woke up.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Bucky.” You shuffled over to create a space in the bed, patting the sheets. “Get your ass back in here.”

He narrowed his eyes, skeptical, but when he opened his mouth to argue, you scowled, and he thought better than to go against your wishes.

Slowly, and hesitantly, he got up from the floor and crawled back into bed, his muscles relaxing as he wrapped his arm around you.

Your head rested on his chest, and you listened to his heartbeat slow down.

“You were calling for help in your sleep,” you whispered after a few minutes, and his muscles tensed back up.

“Really,” he replied, hand moving over your head, massaging your scalp. 

You nodded. “You couldn’t find me.”

Silence.

“Do you have that dream often?” you asked.

More silence. And then…

“Every night since you left.”

Your heart split at the sadness in his voice and you lifted yourself up to look at him, hand cupping his cheek. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

Bucky let out a small, bitter laugh, rolling his eyes. “I should be saying that to you, Sweetheart.”

“Are you kidding? You saved me from the dark and brought me back to life, Buck, in every way that it mattered. You have been so kind, and patient, and loving. You never gave up on finding me, and you still haven’t given up on me even though I’ve been a fucking wreck. Through all the shit I’ve put you through, you never gave up on me.”

Tears welled in Bucky’s eyes as he wiped away the one sliding down your cheek.

“And I never will. I’ll never give up, I’ll never stop waiting, I’ll never stop fighting for you.” 

His hand moved to gently cup the back of your head as he pulled you closer for a slow, tender kiss. 

The two of you stayed in bed the rest of the day - with the exception of Bucky running to the kitchen to grab food for the both of you after his stomach grumbled for an entire minute. You stayed there, wrapped up in each other, drifting between silence and talking about anything and everything. 

Things hadn’t been this easy between you two in such a long time, that you had almost forgotten how much you had been craving it.

Enough time passed that you could barely register it passing anymore, your lids growing heavy as Bucky hummed a soft tune you both loved, the rumbling in his chest lulling you to sleep. 

You weren’t sure how long you had drifted off for before he gently nudged you awake, and the room was pitch black.

“We should get you to bed,” he whispered, kissing your temple before starting to slide out of his bed to escort you to your room.

A soft groan escaped and you shook your head, hands gripping around his t-shirt.

“I wanna stay,” you mumbled, eyes slowly closing.

Even in the dark, you could sense the skepticism in his eyes, and though he did not pull away from your hold, his body remained tense.

“I don’t want to risk it, Sweetheart. What if we just got lucky this morning?”

“Bucky, please let me stay,” you quietly begged. “I’m okay. I promise.”

The earnestness in your voice was what finally got him to relax, his body melding back against yours.

“If you start feeling overwhelmed or afraid even for a second, just let me know. Okay?”

You nodded, pulling him closer to you until your cheek rested against his chest once more, already drifting back to sleep. “I will.”

The last thing you felt before returning to your slumber were his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

And then…

You were back in the field, with gentle arms wrapped around you, staring at the most beautiful smile you had ever seen.

You felt loved. Happy.

Safe.

When you awoke hours later - the soft rays of sunlight warming your eyelids - you opened your eyes to a still sleeping Bucky. He must have tried to stay awake all night to make sure you were comfortable, exhausting himself. 

There was a small part of your mind that was just as nervous about waking up with him after these past few weeks. What if you weren’t ready for this moment? What if the triggers were hidden somewhere in your brain, about to go off any second as you looked at him?

You waited for said trigger to turn on as you continued to stare at Bucky, praying that he would remain the man you loved, not feared.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes, and your mind stayed in a state of adoration as you admired the peaceful expression on his face as he slept.

As if sensing your intense gaze, Bucky began to stir, body shifting, arm snaking its way around your waist-

He froze, realizing he wasn’t alone as his eyes shot open, looking over at you, hesitation painted across his face. 

“Morning, Beefcake,” you said, trying to make your voice as comforting as possible.

He licked his lips, eyes scanning yours. “Morning, Sweetheart. How…how are you feeling?”

You responded by crushing your lips to his, hand gripping the back of his neck for support. Bucky let out a moan of relief, pulling you flush against him.

The two of you never slept apart from each other again.

“You’re late for watch, you know,” you chided as Bucky settled himself by your side, gaze following yours to look at the rain. 

He rolled his eyes, fingers sneaking down to tickle your waist and you squealed. 

“I’m never late, Sweetheart, you’re just always annoyingly early.”

You gave him your best mischievous grin. “I know, it’s just that I love busting your balls, Beefcake.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he grumbled, smile still on his face.

You scrunched your nose at him before leaning forward for a kiss. When you pulled back, your eyes went to the bite mark on his neck and you grimaced. “How’d it go?”

Bucky shrugged, fingers grazing over the newly-formed scar that matched yours. “Same as always. Banner says that my blood is showing up as normal. I’ve officially been given the clean, zombie-free bill of health.”

Your shoulders sagged in relief. “Good,” was all you could think to say.

Bucky pulled you closer to him and kissed your brow. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, baby.”

You smacked his metal arm with a scoff. “As if I’d ever want to be rid of you.”

“You better not!” he laughed. “Cause I don’t plan on ever leaving your side.”

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach and you looked up to meet that beautiful cerulean gaze. “Promise?”

He kissed the bridge of your nose. “Promise.”

Your romantic moment was cut off by a sudden squeal, and you both jerked your heads over to the camp in alarm, only to find that Morgan had thrown a handful of mud at Billy and was now running for her life as he chased her, preparing to strike back.

The two of you chuckled at the chaos before you. “Good to see they’re settling in nicely,” Bucky remarked.

“Who knows the last time they were able to have fun and be so carefree.”

Bucky nodded. “Been a while since we had any newcomers, especially kids. It’s nice.”

“Do you think they’ll stick around?”

He shrugged. “You never know. At the end of the day it’s up to them and what they think is best for their family. But I can’t imagine them saying no to a semi-safe place where they can heal together.”

“This is the best place for that. Healing, that is,” you added with a wink, and Bucky smiled, squeezing you a little more tightly to him.

A few beats of silence passed as you continued watching the kids play below.

“Banner mentioned he wants to talk with us,” he said.

Your brows furrowed. “Did he say why?”

He shook his head. “Not really. He says he has an idea he wants to run by us. Some long-term project or whatever. I was thinking we could go tonight, after dinner?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Actually,maybe we can talk to him tomorrow morning? You and I…we already have plans for tonight.”

Bucky’s lips turned downward in an intrigued expression. “Oh really?”

Heat rose to your face, knots growing in your stomach. “Well, I was kind of low-key planning to ask this super hot, grumpy pants with a heart of gold out on a date.”

His cheeks flushed a bright pink, but tried to keep his expression casual. “I sure hope you’re talking about me, Sweetheart.”

“What, is Yelena not available tonight?”

A loud, dramatic scoff escaped Bucky as you fell into a fit of giggles, and he tackled you to the ground playfully, peppering your face with a multitude of kisses, pinning you down.

“Alright, alright, fine!” you squealed. “I’ll take you on the damn date, Beefcake!”

He pulled back at the peace offering, face smug. “Pick me up at seven?”

You winked. “Wear that skimpy black dress you know I like.”

“Do you think I’ll get a kiss at the end of the night?” His lips lowered to hover over yours.

“Only if you behave,” you replied, suddenly breathless

He let out a low chuckle, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against yours. “Damn,” he murmured, “I know I can’t keep that promise around you.”

“Bummer,” you whispered, lifting your head just enough for your lips to finally meet.

“So anyways, I’m running through the woods as these giant dinosaurs in clown outfits chase after me. I finally managed to climb up a tree, but who’s at the top? Fucking Dum Dum with his giant bowl of soup smiling at me. And then I woke up.”

Yelena took a bite of green beans as you and Kate stared at her, eyes narrowed.

“Have you been sneaking sweets before bed, babe?” Kate asked.

The blond shook her head. “No.”

You crossed your arms and leaned them on the table. “Do you always have dreams like this, Lena?” 

Her lips turned downward as she considered the question. “The clown dinosaurs show up from time to time. But the Dum Dum thing is new….” she turned around and looked at Dum Dum, who caught her gaze, giving her his classic cheery smile and wave. She turned back around with a grimace, “...and slightly more unsettling.”

“Dum Dum is literally the nicest person in this entire camp,” Bucky remarked with a mouthful of bread. “And we literally just fought an entire evil empire and their hoard of flesh-eating zombies. How the hell can he be more unsettling than that?”

“Too much joy,” Yelena said, with what looked to be almost genuine fear in her eyes. “How can one person be so cheerful? In Russia, everyone was mad. Anger is what comforts me.”

“Don’t worry, Lena, if Dum Dum ends up smiling at you to death, I’ll make him pay,” Kate said, resting a reassuring hand on her girlfriend’s leg and kissing her cheek.

“Why does Yelena look like she’s just been to hell and back?” Druig asked, walking up to the table and resting his food tray down to join the group. Before sitting down, he slid the chair next to his back as Makkari - one of the new additions to camp after Hydra’s downfall - took the seat, her smile growing as she looked at Druig. She moved her hand from her chin out in front of her to sign  thank you.

The right corner of his mouth twitched as he mirrored her gesture. 

What had struck you most about Makkari upon meeting her was that – though she was barely able to stand from all of the injuries she sustained the day of the explosion – she was always there to lend a helping hand to someone who needed it, even if that meant holding someone else up for miles when she could barely do it for herself.

The other thing you noticed immediately was the way Druig’s eyes always found their way to her. She could be dozens of feet away and yet he always knew exactly where she was. And every time they locked eyes, she would lift her chin up at him with a smile, and the corners of his mouth would turn up ever so slightly as he lifted his own chin up.

“She’s scared of Dum Dum,” you replied, giving your blond best friend a quick wink as she glared at you. 

“Am not,” she grumbled, and Kate wrapped her arm around her in support, biting back a smile.

“Not what?” Sersi asked as she approached, taking the seat next to you and bumping her arm against yours in hello.

“Afraid of Dum Dum,” Druig responded, and Yelena growled as the rest of the group burst into a fit of laughter.

“Sounds like you lot are having fun over there!” Dum Dum called out. “What’s got the gang in such a fit of giggles?”

“It’s cause she’s afraid of y-” Bucky shouted.

“NOTHING’S HAPPENING OKAY LET’S JUST LET IT GO,” Yelena yelled over Bucky, but there was now a smile forming on her face as she began to see the ridiculousness of the conversation, and you felt tears streaming down your eyes from laughing so hard. 

You looked around the table, at the people who meant the most to you all smiling and laughing, as if you hadn’t survived the worst moments of your life, as if your lives weren’t at risk every second of every day.

These were the people who fought for you even when you thought you weren’t worth fighting for, who risked their lives to bring you our of captivity and back home with them. 

And you knew that they’d do it all again in a heartbeat if needed, just as you would for them.

It would be naive for you not to think that there would be even worse moments ahead, that terrible things were bound to happen, that there would be days when you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed.

Those moments would still come, but as long as you could also have these moments, you knew that you could survive anything.

“Alright, Sweetheart,” Bucky said as you led him out of the cafeteria to the location of your date. “Can I get any sort of hint as to where you’re taking me?”

You grabbed his hand. “Not a chance, but I’m sure you’ll get the idea the closer we get to our destination.”

He let out a huff in response and you glared up at him. “So dramatic, Beefcake. We’ll be there soon, so don’t get your pants all up in a tizzy.”

Another grumble, but his lips quirked up and you felt his thumb move along your knuckles.

Though you were joking, there was a bundle of nerves wreaking havoc in your stomach as you headed to the building with the science lab and library, leading Bucky to the semi-hidden  door tucked in the back.

You stopped at the door, looking up at his confused expression.

“Months ago, you pulled off the most romantic gesture I could have ever asked for, and I completely ruined it, then put you through absolute hell for a really, really long time.” Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down at the ground in shame thinking back to the night you left. “I know that at the time, I thought what I was doing was the right thing, but I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for putting you through all that pain.”

“Sweetheart-” he began to say, and you looked back up to meet his watery eyes, shaking your head to cut him off as your hand went to the knob, slowly turning it and pushing open the door to reveal a familiar display.

Amber lights creating a soft glow throughout the room, a couch in the middle, a projector behind it, with a DVD case of a movie based on a book that brought you two together so long ago.

Though you had a feeling Bucky had known what was coming, you still felt a small flutter in your chest when his breath hitched.

“I wanted to give that night back to you, rewrite it so that we got the moment we deserved to share. One where two people go on a date and be all romantic and shit and one person doesn’t drug their partner and run away into the night.”

Bucky breathed out a small laugh, a tear running down his cheek.

You moved to wipe it away.

“You mean…everything to me, Bucky Barnes. You’re the most important person in my life, the one who owns my soul. If I could give you the world I would, if you’d let me. For now, I can only give you a Twilight movie date, and I hope that that’s enough-”

Unable to control himself any longer, Bucky jumped forward, wrapping his arms around the small of your back and pulling you close until your lips collided together, lifting you up in the air. 

You clung to him for support as your head grew dizzy from the taste of him, just as it always did. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get over the feeling of kissing Bucky, how his lips both kept you grounded and made you feel you were flying at the same time. The hunger you felt, never satisfied when the kiss finally came to an end due to you both being lightheaded from the lack of air. 

When that moment happened now, and he pulled away, there was a brightness in his eyes as he stared into yours, and you knew what he was going to say before the words left his lips.

“I love you, Y/n.”

It was the first time he had said it since that night in the woods, when they were spoken with desperation and grief, a moment where both of you thought it would be the end.

Now, as he said it, it felt like a true beginning.

“And I love you, Bucky,” you said in return. It felt so good to finally say that you said it again against his lips as he pulled you closer. 

After 15 or so more I love you’s from both of you, Bucky reluctantly lowered you to the ground and the two of you made your way to the couch.

“I promise I’m not going to drug the wine this time,” you said as you handed him a glass. “Gotta make sure you enjoy the hell out of this vampire romance.”

“You’re too good to me, Sweetheart,” he responded, taking a sip without hesitation as a sign of complete trust toward you, and you almost started crying again at the gesture.

After puttering around getting everything situated, you crawled into Bucky’s arms, head resting within the crook of his shoulder.

“Hey,” Bucky said, and you raised your head to look at him. “I love you.”

You smiled. “God, Beefcake, you’re such a sap.” He let out a low, rumbly chuckle, rolling his eyes.”Hey,” you said, and his gaze went back to you. “I love you, too.”

He leaned forward for another kiss before you grabbed the projector remote, pressing play.

Then, for the first time ever, in the middle of a zombie apocalypse…

You and Bucky Barnes went on a date.

Epilogue

#Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky x y/n #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x you #Bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky barnes #Bucky fanfic #Bucky barnes imagine #awake my soul #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocolypse au

[waiting4inspiration]

Fuck, thinking of an Apocalypse story for Bucky while still having shit to write is hard...

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #inspiration sponsored by the last of us #apocalypse

[thepsychewrites]

bucky barnes apocalypse au

#thepsychewrites #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #thepsychesmoodboards #bucky barnes imagine #apocalypse #apocalypse au

[of-many-aus]

Us Against the World

Sneak Peak

Here’s a sneak peak at what this series will be like!

Prologue/ Information

This chapter does not need to be read, but can be to better understand the series

Chapter 1

You and Bucky stumbled across some people in the middle of the woods that offered you sanctuary. It’s safe to say that the two of you are hesitant

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

One Shots

Coming soon…

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Taglist: @browneyedgirl22 @cjand10 @hangmanscoming

#us against the world series #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #apocalypse au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff