#plums in bucharest

[insomniumstella]

something in the orange

bucky x witch!reader 

summary: the pretty witch James met in Bucharest holds his heart. she’s been there ever since he regained his freedom, mending the soldier’s broken soul through tender loving, but if the aching suspicions deep in his bones are correct, she’ll soon become nothing more than a bittersweet memory. 

warnings: angst-ish fluff, memories of trauma, a lil’ sprinkle of nsfw — implied smut

word count: 1,615

author’s note: words we never said ☾ if you enjoy listening to music while reading, please play the song je te laisserai des mots. it captures the emotion behind this perfectly:( this is a link to a post about Bucky’s Bucharest apartment, which i used for both inspiration and visualization, and absolutely recommend reading

The little apartment is enveloped in the smell of chicken noodle soup when James steps through the door, dropping a bag of plums on the sofa. Though every window is blocked out with newspapers, the dying sun manages to flicker through the pages, casting an orange glow on the single room.

On her — the girl who inadvertently saved him.

She stands by the stove in nothing but his woolen sweater. It reaches her knees, and she pushes the sleeves up to her elbows at times to prevent the edges from broth stains. The otherwise silent atmosphere is saturated in delicate sounds of piano creeping out of her broken laptop, and as the soldier continues to observe her, a bittersweet wave of emotions drowns him. Brooklyn is no longer his home, she is.

“Hi.” James chuckles softly at the sight before him.

Ancient spells books and corked glass containers clutter the counter. Bundles of herbs, dried and fresh alike, float around her as she studies the open grimoire, waving her fingers in a circular motion to stir dinner.

“Hi, bun.” She mutters without paying him a glance, hastily reading the last bit of instructions for a healing potion. “Are you feeling better?”

The witch buries her nose in the crinkled pages often. The words that lay upon the paper are peculiar to James. Dragon’s blood, wormwood, lapis lazuli are several terms he stopped seeking to understand, focusing to unravel the boundaries of the relationship between them instead. Friends was the only label ever spoken, and yet somewhere along the way of the pair’s whirlwind journey, the edges of their connection became stained.

Almost a year ago, when James stumbled into a hidden coffee shop by accident, or fate, it was unmistakable she was merely a stranger, but then she shared her cinnamon bun because he only had enough money for a cup of tea, and their destinies blurred together. She shared again and again until it was two strange months later that she announced, “we’re friends, bun,” after James questioned the reason she’d always split the pastry. Suddenly, the days were brighter, and the nights not as lonely. The shoebox of an apartment turned warm. She spent many hours exploring the world, but James would find caramel bars on his refrigerator and fresh flowers on the counter, he’d light the candles she’d accidentally leave or read the loose pages that slipped out of her journals. If his kitchen was empty of food, she’d arrive at his place with a tote of ingredients to prepare a homemade meal. James never witnessed where she sleeps most nights, except she goes thrifting a bit too much and rarely pays for bus tickets, sneaking in when the conductor isn’t looking. She has very little of her own, and she chooses to care for him in every way she’s able.

He doesn’t deserve it, he often thinks. Solitude was written in his future as a punishment for the crimes he committed. James earned to suffer in the constant chaos of his rotten mind, and he shouldn’t come home to a friend, whose cooking chicken noodle soup because the harsh Bucharest weather provoked a simple cold.

Friend. Trust was a word forgotten in his vocabulary, and she returned the meaning, melding the broken pieces of James Buchanan Barnes through tender love. Before the soldier could truly grasp the imprint she’d forever leave on his soul, he was subconsciously searching for her in the sunsets or the olden books in the city’s library, catching her in the morning’s dew or the bright stars. The diary, which stored his memories, adopted stories of her, and the single cup of coffee doubled. Gentle smiles painted over his usual frowns, and the metal arm abruptly became capable of affectionate touches.

She is not a friend, for the words he’s scared to say are I love you.

“As a matter of fact,” the soldier wraps his arms around her waist from behind before placing a tender kiss on her cheek, “yes.”

The girl melts into his embrace. While she’s a resident of the world, escaping to faraway locations when the circumstances twist sour, Bucky’s embrace is the only place in which she could ever sincerely find safety.

“Good,” she grins, turning around to capture his lips. The kiss is brief, and before James could steal another, she’s clutching a glass vial to push it into his hands. “The potion has cinnamon and ginger to relieve the cold and is infused with moonstone to banish anxiety.”

The weight of her statement rests in his stare, “anxiety?”

Caressing Bucky’s biceps through his red henley, she grimaces at the tinges of betrayal in his tone. “I promised to stay out of your head,” she begins, tracing his rigid chest muscles, “and a promise is sacred,” especially the kind a witch would grant to a former assassin, “but I can sense the anguish that plagues you without hearing, or seeing it, in the first place.”

“Oh,” James sighs, and the rest of the sentence seems to die on his tongue.

It was a foolish mistake to imagine the girl could possibly miss the wrenching concern at the pit of his stomach. James attempted to bury it, but for the last three weeks, the sorrow was evidently carved in his stiff expressions and nervous glances. She continued to revel in the pleasure of his touch, but it no longer resembled peace, tarnished with an unspoken goodbye.

And perhaps, it is. Suspicions of The Winter Soldier’s potential attacks flicker in the air as a harsh reminder — he’s a complex affair in her heart solely because the perception of James as a mindless killer remains unchanged in the eyes of others. Someone seeks to find him, whether it be the government or Steve.

“Sit,” she urges, maneuvering to locate a set of ceramic bowls.

The table bears a cheap bottle of red and two clashing glasses she thrifted. A Nokia lies atop a pack of cigarettes, and James hastily shoves it into the pocket of his jeans. It’s not the scent of tobacco on her clothing that drives him insane, but rather the scent of cinnamon underneath it, which he cannot entirely reach. She sprinkles cinnamon on coffees or oatmeal, and into the bread she makes once every blue moon. Cinnamon envelopes James in a warm hug every time the soldier smells it, and it’s frustrating how easily tobacco seems to overpower the spice.

“Did I leave the door unlocked again?” Bucky questions, messing with the wax on an empty wine bottle before he decides to ignite the candle, situated inside, using y/n’s pink lighter.

A moment of stillness settles upon the couple, and when she speaks, her voice is a lot more gentle. “On the contrary, I used alohomora,” she bites the inside of her cheek, unsure if she should say the words swirling around in her mind, “you’re healing, Buck. Sometimes the pain may distract us from miscellaneous tasks.”

Pain is the single steady matter in his prolonged lifetime. It left a gaping hole in his heart and a rooted crack in his soul without remedies to cure it. At least she silences the constant buzzing in his ears the gruesome memories bring forward and patches up the endlessly crimson wounds. Some days, James is barely a man, and yet his rain never smothers the fire within her.

“Alohomora?”

“Mmmh,” she hums, mouth entirely full of soup. It’s when she swallows does y/n genuinely answers, “alohomora is a spell in Harry Potter to pick locks.”

“Does it work in our reality?” James asks, bringing a spoonful of steaming broth to his lips. The taste is nostalgic and comforting, and it makes him briefly reminisce of every time his mom or sister would cook a chicken noodle dinner from a can.

“No,” she shakes her head and reaches for the bottle to graze his glass, “but a bobby pin does.”

“Thank you,” James chuckles as his eyes soften, “for the soup, and the potion, and—“

“Stop,” she settles on his lap, the bowl of food forgotten. “I nurture you not out of pity but rather because in you, I see myself.” A corner of her mouth quirks up into a meager smile, one James seems powerless to understand. “I was eighteen, alone, and purple with bruises the human eye cannot see.” The witch’s tone is sprightly, but the tremble in her voice unveils the bitterness of the memory. “All I craved was for someone to offer me a touch of kindness, and just maybe, a hand to hold. People help the people,” she remarks, stroking a faded scar above his eyebrow, “you shall not express gratitude for such simple actions.”

Traitor. The gravity of the word claws at his bones. James needs to speak of the burdens and of the fears tormenting his head. She would always be a temporary destination in his peculiar journey. It was etched into the stars above. The universe bestowed an angel upon evil, proposing a restrained offer set to soon expire.

James Barnes is a coward, he decides, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss instead of confessing. Clutching her hips, the soldier brings the woman closer, tracing the curves of her body to store it deep within his consciousness. She straddles him, tangling her elegant fingers in his chestnut hair.

“I like to express my gratitude,” James whispers into the crook of her neck before kissing the delicate skin, “you’re too good to me, plum.”

And when she grinds on The Winter Soldier’s hardened length, savoring the roughness of his denim jeans against her thinly covered cunt and bare thighs, she doesn’t particularly care enough to argue.

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff #bucky angst #bucky x reader smut #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky series #bucky x reader series #bucky barnes series #words we never said bucky x reader #something in the orange bucky x reader

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

If anyone wants to write this, you can!!

Imagine Platonic fic with Bucky with a 2 year old daughter where after the events of Winter Soldier, right after Bucky saves Steve, and also saves a 2 year old little girl who also had fallen into the water because of the destruction. He was going to take her back to her parents until he found out she’s an orphan and has no where to go. Going against all his worries and doubts, he (unofficially) adopts her and brings her with him. A couple months after traveling with Bucky, she calls him “daddy” for he first time. Omg, Bucky would mELt!! When they get to Bucharest (By this time she’s 3 years old), Bucky rents an apartment and they live there for awhile until the beginning events of Civil War happened (when Steve/Sam/SHEILD found Bucky). Omg it’d be cute when Bucky and his daughter go to the market, just imagine him holding her with one arm while giving the money for the plums with the other. Steve would be sooooo shook when he goes into Bucky’s apartment and sees a little girl with him. I don’t know what would happen next but omg it’d be cute if at the end of the events of Civil War, instead of breaking up, the Avengers come back together and Bucky joins the Avengers (then his daughter would live with him and the Avengers🥺)

#james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes #Bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky drabble #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky oneshot #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #buckybarnes #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #avengers #platonic #platonic fic #dad!bucky #fluff

[fiprobsreblogsalot]

Hi! For the WIP ask: Broken Things?

Hi! Thank you for the ask!

Broken Things is the temporary title for a oneshot with Bucky's POV and focusing on Sam. If you know me before, I absolutely adore the trope "broken things always find each other". As the name suggests, it centers around Bucky's view of himself and of Sam. Bucky originally sees himself as "broken" and Sam as "perfect", and as their relationship progresses, his view changes. Maybe broken isn't such a bad thing, after all.

Bucky discovering his perfect Sam's jagged bits and pieces and still loving him all the same is probably one of my favorite things to read. Writing this fic really helps bring out my my emotions, and here are some snippets I think capture the spirit of the fic:

Life taught Bucky, even before the war, before all that happened, that broken things were ugly and unlovable.

Bucky used to think Sam Wilson was perfect. Even if he said the worst jokes and laughed at them himself. Even if he too gladly took every chance to poke and prod at Bucky. Even if he snored and watched horrible TV shows and liked looking at rugs. Because Sam Wilson smiled the prettiest smiles, spoke the sweetest voice, and donned the shiniest eyes. Sam Wilson was round and perfect like the plums people would pick at the market in Bucharest, and Bucky, well. The only person who would pick Bucky was Bucky.

But when Sam looked at him the way one would a gorgeous moon, like he was precious and beautiful and flawless, like he mattered, Bucky looked at his jagged edges and sharp cracks, and he thought: if he had been perfect, would Sam have looked at him the way he did now? [...] Thought: he would take his battered heart to patch Sam's own. And he knew, deep down, without a spoken word, that Sam would do the same for him, too.

Send me a WIP name and I'll tell you about it!

#sambucky #buckysam #winterfalcon #sam wilson #captain america #falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #fatws #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #wip game

[bxwitched]

Avenging Angel 

Warnings: 18+ only. Dark themes, stalking, mentions of injuries, swearing, abusive relationship, domestic violence, alcoholism, attempted sexual assault, attempted rape, violence, hurt.

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: Bucky tries to lay low whilst in Bucharest but finds that he can't ignore a woman in need.

A/N: I found this in my drafts from years ago and had to finish it. Please heed the warnings above, this one is dark. Comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated! You can find my masterlist here.

He watches as you weave through the bustling market, head down and eyes lowered, your pretty face shrouded by your hair.

You flit from stall to stall, buying your usual groceries but he notices the change in you. Today you don’t smile at the young man as he bashfully hands over your vegetables, nor do you ask the elderly woman who sells eggs how her husband is faring with his ill-health.

You’re unusually quiet, only exchanging the necessary amount of words before moving on to buy the next item on your list. 

It's only when you reach out to take the bag of plums you've purchased that he sees it, the set of greenish fingerprints encompassing your left wrist, peeking out from under the sleeve of your jacket.

He isn’t the only one who notices the bruises, the seller's gaze falls on the marks as you take the fruit from her and her eyes fill with pity. You hand over a few coins and mumble a 'thank you' as you leave quickly. 

He trails behind you at a safe distance, hiding in plain sight as he weaves through the crowds. You turn off down a narrow side street and he follows, the heels of your boots clack loudly against the cobblestones and you pull your jacket tighter around you, the mid-Autumn chill seeps into your skin and it makes you shiver.

Your pace slows as you reach the end of your street, your spine straightening and shoulders tensing as you feel the familiar stare boring into your back. Your fingers twitch around the handles of your bag and you grip the cloth tighter in your fist.

At first you'd thought that it was just paranoia, that your tired mind was imagining things, using all of your pent up fear against you.

You'd had the feeling that you were being watched for weeks now, you had told yourself that it wasn't real and you tried to ignore the feeling each time it arose.

But then you had caught a glimpse of someone in the reflection of the bakery window, a dark figure highlighted in the rain-spattered glass. Someone had been following you home from your shift at the cafe but when you had turned around no one was there.

You had changed your route home several times since that evening but each time the feeling remained, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as your body sensed the danger that you couldn't see.

You hurry to the entrance of your building and let yourself in quickly, your hand shaking as you slip you keys into the lock and push open the heavy door. You close it behind you firmly and hurry up the stairs to your floor, throwing Mrs Stan a polite greeting as you pass her on the third floor landing.

You slip into your apartment quickly and latch the door behind you, wiggling it twice to check that the bolt is secured in place. Mr Stan, despite his old age, had been kind enough to offer to install a new one for you after it had been broken in the incident the week before.

You pack away your groceries in your small kitchen and set the kettle onto the stove top to boil, intent on making yourself a cup of tea to calm your frazzled nerves.

You take careful sips of the hot drink as you settle down into the sofa and clutch the steaming mug between your palms. Your whole body sags as the adrenaline in your blood wanes and the familiar warmth settles in your chest.

Bucky watches as you move around you apartment from the window of his in the building opposite. You flitter in and out of view several times, putting things away before you finally settle down on the couch, sipping from a plain white mug.

Your body relaxes gradually, sinking down further and further while your eyes droop until finally, you fall asleep.

He feels a pang of guilt in his chest as he studies your sleeping form. He'd been careful, had used all of his honed stealth skills to ensure that you remained unaware of his presence but then one evening he'd made a mistake.

He'd watched you from afar for most of afternoon as you waitressed at the small cafe on the corner, you looked happy as you served patrons with a smile and laughed with your regulars.

You had been conversing with a young woman with a baby, your smile bright as you cooed at the small child in her arms and Bucky couldn't deny the warm feeling that settled in his belly at the sight.

And then it had all shattered in an instant.

You had startled as the man stormed through the cafe door, stumbling slightly as he moved towards you and wrapped a hand around your wrist.

He couldn't hear what you were saying from where he was positioned but he could read your lips through the glass, could see the pained expression on your face as the taller man gripped your delicate flesh in his meaty palm.

You knew him well, he could see that from the way that you were trying to placate him, urging him to lower his voice as he had shouted at you and frightened your customers.

He was clearly drunk as he swayed slightly on his feet and Bucky had to stop himself from acting on instinct when the man dragged you outside and around the side of the old building where he backed you into the brick wall.

He watched, fist clenched, knuckles white and his blunt nails digging into the meat of his palm as the other man spat cruel words in your face and loomed over you. You shrank in on yourself submissively, apologising profusely as tears tracked down your cheeks.

And then he'd growled and pressed against you, smothering your body with his huge frame as he covered your mouth with his, slathering you with sloppy kisses whilst his hands groped at your flesh.

He could see the panic in your eyes as you had pressed your hands to the large man's chest, Andrei you'd called him, desperately trying to push him off of you.

Finally the man had relented, stroking over the column of your throat threateningly before he stumbled away, leaving you shaky and tearful as you tried to catch your breath.

He had followed you home that evening, wanting to make sure that you reached your apartment safely after the earlier encounter. He had been distracted, his heart full of guilt at not having acted, his mind conflicted. It happened in the flash of a second, he hadn't meant for you to see him but you had and then it was too late.

He knew that it was wrong but he couldn't help himself, not after he'd been witness to the incident a few days before.

He'd seen the whole scene play out from his spot at his window, he was cleaning his gun when he heard your screaming with his enhanced hearing and looked up right as Andrei had burst through your front door, yelling incoherently as he made a path straight for you.

He was drunk then too, his words slurring as he had forced himself onto you, his hands pulling at your clothes as you protested. Andrei had backhanded you across the cheek then and you had stumbled backwards, you had stared at the man in shock as your hand cradled the reddening skin.

Evidently, it was the first time that he'd ever hit you. Andrei too even looked surprised at his actions, his brow furrowed as he muttered a weak apology and tried to grab a hold of you once more. The police had arrived then and swiftly took him away once they saw your bruised face and frightened expression, one of your neighbours had called them as soon as they had heard the commotion.

He knows that it's none of his business, that he should leave you alone, he feels awful for causing you so much distress, for the unease in your features and the tension in your body but unbeknownst to you he's made a promise to you. He won't, can't let it happen to you again.

You startle awake, it's late, it's dark outside and there's a loud hammering on your door. You whole body tenses when his angry words slur through the thin wood, it's Andrei and he's drunk.

You take a deep breath as you walk over to the door and place your palms against it, you refuse to let him in but you really don't want him to linger in the hallway again and continue to disturb your neighbours.

"Go home, Andrei. You can't be here, it's late." Your voice is quiet, weak. His fist slams against the door and you jump back as it rattles harshly on the hinges.

"I want you dragă. Open the fucking door!"

"No!" He hits the door again and the metal bolt whines from the force of it, fear begins to flood your veins as you back away towards your bag, knowing that you need to grab your phone and call the police.

The banging stops and you breathe a sigh of relief, you figure that he has given up and decided to go home and sleep it off but then there's a crash as the door flings open and smacks against the wall. He stands tall in the open frame with a furious expression.

He steps over the threshold and throws it shut behind him, breathing heavily and you freeze as your blood runs cold.

You turn on your heel and dart towards the kitchen, intent on grabbing a knife to protect yourself but he anticipates the movement, despite his drunken state he's quick and he catches you with a strong arm around your middle.

He starts dragging you backwards towards your bedroom and you throw an elbow back into his gut, partially escaping his grip as he grunts in pain. He manages to grasp a hold of your hair and tugs you back, retorting with a blow to your cheek that leaves you dizzy and struggling to focus. The world around you spins painfully.

"You got me arrested you fucking bitch." His tone is venomous, he's nothing like the Andrei you once loved, the Andrei before the drink.

You feel him move you and when your mind finally realigns he already has you on your back on the bed. He's pushed up your shirt, exposing your midriff and bra-covered breasts to the cold night air and his fingers work clumsily on undoing your jeans, the alcohol in his system causes his fingers to slip against the metal buttons and he mutters curses under his breath.

He growls as he slips the last one free and wrenches the denim down harshly over the skin of your hips and ass. You kick out blindly in panic, successfully catching your knee against his jaw and as he recoils in pain you take the opportunity to try to scramble away.

You scream as he catches your ankle in a bruising grip, his blunt nails dig harshly into your soft skin and you sob as he drags you back down. He pushes your still denim-clad legs down in to your chest and flattens his body on top of you, pinning you down with his weight.

"Andrei! please, stop-"

"Quiet!" He clamps one of his large palms over your mouth and you whimper against the rough skin of his palm. His free hand grabs at your underwear, trying to work it over your hips and ass as you struggle against him.

It had all happened so fast after his mother's death six months prior, he had been close to her as his only family and despite your pleading he had turned to alcohol to quell his grief. He thought that it would console him but instead it had transformed him from a warm, caring man into a monster.

You pray that the police will arrive soon, that one of your neighbours has heard the commotion and called them. That they will finally listen to you and take him far away, that they lock him up so that he won't be able to hurt you anymore.

His weight disappears from you in an instant and you sob in relief. Andrei sputters and kicks as a man suspends him by his throat, choking the life out of your abuser with unadulterated rage in his blue eyes.

They soften when they focus on you, concern written on his features.

"Are you okay?" His voice is gruff and you nod back at him, not trusting your voice. Your affirmation must be unconvincing because the unknown man's brows furrow downwards and he glares at Andrei once more.

He throws Andrei backwards with an inhuman strength and you gasp as your former lover collides with the wall, rendering him unconscious as a cloud of plaster falls around him.

Your breath comes in pants as you try to steady your frantic heartbeat and your eyes move over your saviour's form. There's something about his large frame, his long dark hair and ocean eyes that feels familiar.

You can't place if you've seen him before, where you've seen him before but then you think back to the reflection in the bakery window. "You're the one that's been following me, aren't you?" He nods hesitantly and you think that's he ashamed as his eyes cast downwards, the muscle in his cheek twitching as he clenches his jaw.

"Thank you." His eyes widen in surprise and his lips part slightly, you're looking at him with tears in your eyes and gratitude clear on your face.

"Thank you-" Your voice trails off in a silent question and he answers it without missing a beat.

"Bucky. My name is Bucky."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #James Bucky Barnes x reader #James Bucky Barnes x you #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #James buchanan barnes x reader #James buchanan barnes x you #winter solider #bucky barnes angst #angst #hurt #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #reader insert #bucky x reader #Bucky x you #bucky x female reader #james barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #captain america civil war #dark fic

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Magpies - Two

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky remembers (only slightly) what his ma used to say about magpies - and it's something Y/N even said. Suddenly, Bucky's relationship with Y/N was a test of the magpies' poem. But he knew they would get out on the other side, alive and together.

Word count: 247

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

2015, Bucharest, Romania

Eventually, Bucky found himself in Romania and was able to find an empty apartment to stay in for a while.

Every day he was slowly getting his memory back, his mother, Rebecca, a smaller Steve and a woman who he called ‘doll’ - but Bucky guessed it wasn’t her name.

The woman who took most of his dreams seemed like a very important person to him before his time as the Winter Soldier.

He would go out and get more plums (Bucky has a faint memory of his ma telling him that plums help with people's memories).

He was standing in the market, looking over the plums, when out of the corner of his eye he sees the hair from his dreams.

The hair, the nose, even her ears.

Y/N... she was, alive?

He slowly walked over to her. “Doll?” He gently asked, as the woman he spoke to turned around.

It was Y/N, she was alive!

“Bucky?” She questioned, walking over to him, through the slight crowd and to him.

The closer that she got, the more recognisable that she became. This was the girl from his dreams, the girl from the 40s, the girl (as he can remember from one of his memories), his fiancée.

She soon as she was within touching distance, Y/N reached over and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as tight as she could - as if he was going to disappear before her eyes.

#bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #james buchanan barnes #reader #set as part of civil war

[lowryinbohemia]

Peles & Bran Castles 🏰

Today we got to tour not one but TWO famous Romanian castles! We left Bucharest behind early this morning, and headed towards the mountains. Along the way, we stopped at the train station & picked up our second tour guide, Raz. The first castle we visited was Peles Castle, located in Sinaia. Completed in 1883, it was the summer home for the Romanian royal family and is an eclectic collection of various architecture styles as well as artwork itself. The Weapons Room was a collection unto itself with the variety of different weaponry used by both members of the Romanian royal family, but also weapons from other countries and weapons won in battle. The grounds were spectacular and it was so nice to be in the cool of the mountains. Mom, Pat and I remarked how much the area around Sinaia reminds us of the Blue Ridge Mountains, so many a picture was taken.

Next we made our way to Bran, where we stopped and had some lunch before heading to the castle I have waited over a year and a half to see: BRAN’S CASTLE 🏰 aka DRACULA’S CASTLE 🧛‍♂️. Yes I had a major nerd-out, yes I took tons and tons of pictures, yes I did a vampire pose outside the castle, and no, I regret nothing. The hike up to the castle was pretty steep so I got a good leg workout but it was worth it when we got up there. The castle has been restored inside and out, and the exhibit was all dedicated to the lives of the persons who lived in the fortress, including the famous Vlad Tepes Draculae. There was also a really cool exhibit about the various myths and supernatural legends in Romania, including strigoi, werewolves, ghosts & goblins. There was even an example of a “vampire killing kit”. I was really proud of Mom for braving the cramped and narrow staircases to make her way up the castle floors, as well as her not getting afraid of being up so high. It was truly SO COOL, and I am going to treasure the memories forever in my little nerdy heart.

The van then made its way to Brasov, stopping along the way for us to try some plum brandy made fresh in the area. I will tell you, that brandy was STRONG and not exactly my liquor of choice, but I am glad I at least gave it a try. We then made it to Brasov and settled into our hotel room. Mom & I decided to just take it easy and have some snackies before settling into bed.

Tomorrow we tour Brasov and see its treasures, so I look forward to telling you all about them tomorrow!

Till then, I bid you all farewell.

Lowry💜

#eastern europe #travel blog #brasov #Romania #bran castle #Dracula #peles castle #vlad tepes

[vekovoysoldat-moved]

@shieldretired continued from here

THE MAN ON THE BRIDGE. STEVE. Even just looking at the blonde makes his mind heart. They're are cracked and broken and he can't seem to put the pieces together. HE KNOWS HIM , that much is true but it doesn't make Bucky want to run any less. He had finally found some calm , here in Bucharest and now Steve Rogers was here to turn it all upside down. IF ANYTHING , THAT MAKES BUCKY ANGRY. Was it irrational? the man clearly cared or he wouldn't have tracked him down. The problem was , Bucky wishes he hadn't bothered.

"Yeah well , maybe i didn't hit you hard enough." Eyes narrow - and he swallows harshly. WHY COULDN'T STEVE JUST LET HIM GO? All he wants is to go back to his apartment , close the blinds , eat some plums and look at the list in his book. Steve being here , it heavily complicates things especially as Bucky has been hunting Hydra agents , and killing them for their crimes. SOMETHING TELLS HIM STEVE WOULDN'T APPROVE OF THAT. "What do you wanna talk about?"

#shieldretired #( verse : from one fight to another // main )

[musette22]

these gifs of Bucky buying plums in Bucharest? He needs a hug (from Steve) not another fight...

He really really does, nonnie 🥺 Poor darling looks in desperate need of a good snuggle with his best guy 💞 In case you'd like to read a fantastic fic in which Romania Bucky gets his Stevie snuggles (and more), can I suggest you check out There Are Strangers I Have Yet to Become by @voylitscope? It's excellent and so, so satisfying 💘

#bucky barnes #ca:tws #stucky #fic rec #minnie answers

[ohtobeleah]

IVE MISSED YOU!! Scrolled through so much to find the sort of mini part 2 you wrote for the plum vendor cause the whole thing was so adorable and spicy in the best way. Like imagine a few years later, Buckys doing better and you’re back in the US. he looks different now though you haven’t changed much and he DEFINITELY remembers you. He repays you for plums with a coffee date 🥺

Also SERIOUSLY MISSED YOU ❤️

Plums & Killers Masterlist

There’s a plethora of things Bucky Barnes can and can’t remember, but if there’s one thing he could remember, it would be that he’d forever remember the warm inviting smile that radiated from you every time he’d pass by the fruit and veg stand. Ripe plums he’s weakness and the way your laugh would simply make him melt into a puddle of the shadow of a man he thought he was, his absolute kryptonite.

“Three words you associate with happiness” Dr. Raynor would ask every so often during Bucky’s court mandated therapy sessions. Bucky would hesitate, one word would always come to mind. Nothing else, just one simple word:

“Plums—”

“Why plums?” Raynor would ask with a puzzled face, trying her best to chip away at the concrete walls reinforced with industrial strength steel beans Bucky had put up years ago to protect all that was left of himself. Bucky would remember your smile, the plum vendor, the bright smile of gorgeous eyes that saw straight past the way Bucky would blend into the crowd. You brought him to the surface with the ease of small talk and the tastiest plums Bucky could ever crave.

“They remind me of home.”

“And where would home be for you James?” Bucky didn’t want to open a can of worms by mentioning the small period in his overextended life where he’d met a girl who sold plums at her grandmother’s fruit and veg stand while on expat to Romania on a working holiday teaching English to the next generation of the world’s best and brightest. No. because then he’d be stuck in this god-awful office being grilled about how he wasn’t trying hard enough to assimilate to a life post Steve Rogers, post Hydra mind control, post blip.

“Wherever the hell my heart is I guess.” From time-to-time Bucky wondered where in the world you ended up. If you’d followed the developing new stories of his manhunt through to streets of Bucharest, the short answer was yes. Yes, indeed you did.

……

“Mum I’m fine, I promise.” You tried you best of try and convince your overdramatic mother over the phone that you were in fact, keeping you shit together after your very long-term relationship just ended. “Who needs men, honestly? What are they even good for these days anyway/” you chuckled under your breathe, walking through the park as you spoke to the woman you stived to be like growing up. “I’m just going to be that cool hip aunty that doesn’t have kids but always knows how to pick an excellent bottle of wine for the family events, I got this all figured out trust—"

Bucky, for some reason or another, perhaps by the grace of some God that saw pity on him, did see you, crashing straight into you as he took to the pathway that snaked through the park serpentine stile. Taking you down with ease, crashing to the ground on top on you. Fumbling around like a wild animal.

“Oh shit—” Bucky gasped, as he tried to protect your fall, cupping your head so that when you hit the deck it wouldn’t be painted with brain matter. “I’m so sorry are you okay? I’m sorry I just didn’t see you, kinda just came outta nowhere.”

“Don’t be, there was no other way I was getting off that phone call—" you sighed as Bucky pealed himself from you, standing to his feet before offering you a hand. Pulling you up with ease to your feet to meet his panicked gaze. “I’m—” you didn’t even have a chance to introduce yourself before the memories of the handsome mystery man came flooding back. Not so mystery anymore, more like, pardons hero. “James?”

“Lila?” Bucky couldn’t feel his heart, it was almost as if it had stopped beating. He knew what that felt like, the shock of electricity that would bolt through his veins. The way his teeth would crack under the pressure and the pain. This though, this kind of heart skipping a beat, for you he’d experience this over and over without question. “You sold me plums in Bucharest—”

“I did!” you beamed as you dusted yourself off, admiring the man who stood before you. He looked like he’d seen the world and then some. But even then, youth was on his side, for 106. “I thought I’d scared you off when you never came back, my plum sales were practically non-existent after you vanished into thin air.” You admitted. “But then I saw the news—” the tone you used frightened bucky for a second. How could you even bare to look at him right now, knowing who he was, what he had done. “I started looking into you a little more.” You trailed of for a moment, shily, almost embarrassed to admit it. “I mean I always knew deep down I was attracted to older men but 100 was pushing it even for me—” you got him, the way Bucky couldn’t hold back his laughter, it was instantly addictive.

“You were the only person I spoke to for months before Steve and those army guys destroyed my apartment.” This wasn’t the time or place to admit that you were the first women to help bucky explore his desires after years of torture. But as Bucky could sense the conversation fading, he couldn’t let you slip away. “So, uh hey do you wanna get like a coffee or something soon sometime maybe?” It felt awkward to ask, he felt awkward, but everyone from Sam to Dr. Raynor was telling him to get out there.

“I uh—” looking down at where a diamond ring once wrapped delicately around your left ring finger, you sighed, pressing your lips together with a leap of faith that maybe this could be it and that everything happens for a reason. The bubbling jealousy still there as you struggled to love yourself. But with the way Bucky looked at you like you were a lost treasure he’d been searching for how could you say anything but yes.

“I’d love to.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #marvel mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #tfatws #bucky fic #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes Bucharest #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic

[marvelswinterfrost]

Force of Gravity - Prologue

Pairing: Loki x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: After the magician performs his last trick, it's time to go home. So when Loki plays his last card, he needs someone to protect him from the dangers of the realms. There is nowhere left to go but earth where he is looking for someone just as broken as him.

This story does not follow certain MCU plots after CACW - Bucharest. Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, as they belong to Marvel.

A/N: However, I do own all the grammatical errors this fanfiction contains. I have no beta reader, english is not my native language and I have also not written in this language for over a year, so please be patient with me as I slowly regain my ability to form a correct sentence. Thank you! :) ...

There was a dark cloud looming over the city of Bucharest, that hid the bright and warm sun from the busy streets, as if it wanted to play hide and seek with the masses below. Here and there you would find old newspapers being carried by the wind. They seemed to be floating effortlessly. 

And eventhough there was rustling and conversations being heard from every side, there stood a silent and still figure hidden in the shadow of a large oak tree. His appearance was masked by the darkness the shadow casted onto him. Only his tall, slim figure was a contrast to the grey wall behind him. His eyes followed a particular man wearing a black cap that was talking to a vendor on the street.  

As the conversation between the two people neared its end, the tall figure silently and slowly made his way towards them. His features now plainly visable as the sun took the secrets the shadow bore. His long, black and greasy hair was tucked behind his ears and the black suit that he wore looked flawless, which was quite odd considering the state of his hair. Not even coming to a halt, he watched a plum, that might had lost it's way, roll off of the wooden table and onto the sidewalk. 

Carefully, he picked it up and examined the fresh fruit. Looking back at the man with the black hat, he cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the man before him. 

"I apologize," he said with an outstreched arm that held the plum as if it was a temptation right as the man had turned around, "but I think you might have lost this."

His voice was calm and deep. Easy to get lost in, one might think. The man had turned around, looking at the fruit in the stranger's hand. He hesitated a little bit before gently grabbing it. His gloved hand, the stranger noticed, seemed hard as steel as he accidentally made contact with his own. The man with the hat smiled a soft but unsure thank you before starting to head off.

"It is a nice day today." the black haired man said. The other stopped but remained silent, not bothering to turn around. "So why the gloves?" he asked.

The man grabbed the paper bag, that held his plums, tighter. Even from behind him you could see his Adam's apple move as he swallowed with fear. His shoulders were tense and his breaths were coming quicker and quicker.

"It's a skin condition." he explained rather dully. He turned his face a little to the left so that in the corner of his eye, he could see the tall man in the corner of his eye. He knit his eyebrows in confusion as he made out the black suit the slim man wore. Not the usual attire people wore around this part of town. 

"I think I might have heard of your condition, sergeant Barnes." there seemed to not be a single second left between his last word and the collision of his back and the dirty wall of the building they had stood next to. A loud grunt came from his lips as the strong gloved hand squeezed around his slender throat.

"Who the hell are you?" Barnes barked. Emotions raw as the anger and fear in his eyes mixed with his panicked breathing. 

"That should not be any of your concern. All I ask is for a favour." he gasped as he started to push the heavy arm away from his throat. His eyebrows shot up in confusion as the grip on his throat only got tighter and tighter. 

"I don't do favours anymore." Barnes hissed at the taller man again. "Go back to whatever scumbag sent you and tell them-" he stopped and gripped the throat tighter as the taller man's head started to look to the left, completely unbothered. The black haired man's head was forcefully pulled in his direction again.

"Look at me- you go back and tell them that if I find them, they are dead." his threats were coming out in low, deep hushed but the anger they held was intimidating. His nose almost touching the nose of the strange man. But once he made sure the other man understood, he let go.

The strange man straightened his suit, brushing off the dusty particles that were painfully visible on his all black outfit. But despite being practically thrown at a nearby wall, he seemed to be rather unbothered.

"Whoever you seem to take me for, I can assure you, I mean no harm." He stretched out his hand again, letting it hang low for Barnes to take it. As the man explected, he refused. So the stranger took it back and straightened his back.

"I am Loki of Asgard. And I have come to you in need of protection."

...

Chpt 2

If you liked it, please leave me a comment, it would mean the world to me!

#winterfrost #loki #marvel #bucky barnes #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #bucky #fanfiction #bucky/loki #lokixbucky #angst #hurt #comfort #fanfic

[davinellicson]

Join American photographer Davin Ellicson in the Maramures region of northern Romania 12-19 April 2023 for a week of enchantment during Orthodox Easter in one of the most traditional villages left in Europe.

For decades Romania’s closed border policy under the dictatorship of Nicolae Ceausescu as well as a natural fortress of mountains kept Maramures isolated from the rest of Europe. Even after the fall of communism change was slow to enter the region. The area is renowned for the strength of its traditions, folk costumes, idyllic landscape and is considered the heart of Romanian culture. In 2007 Romania joined the European Union and Maramures is at last changing. Come savor this rural life before it vanishes forever!

Davin is offering a seven day documentary photography workshop based in the village of Valeni where he lived for a year with a family and fell under Romania's dark spell. It is the subject of his first book coming out in 2023, designed by Dutchman Sybren Kuiper and Davin will explore his book making process for those interested. In his eighth workshop in the village, he will be sharing his passion for Romania with students. We will explore neighboring villages during Orthodox Easter week as well as attend three days of Easter ceremonies culminating with Easter Sunday on 16 April.

Davin will be working closely with workshop participants and providing daily critiques and group discussions. We will begin with a review of participants' past work. The goal of this workshop is to learn to create strong personal photographs about summer peasant life. We will shoot during the day and edit in the evenings. It’s a workshop open to amateurs and professionals alike. Technical, theoretical and aesthetic issues will be discussed as attendees work towards honing their individual visions.

Everyone will enjoy great access and homestays will allow for an immersive experience with local villagers and the opportunity to sample distinctive traditional Romanian food and 110 proof homemade plum brandy. It will be an opportunity to witness the last peasants in Europe living life as they have for millennia albeit with a few aspects of modern life mixed in! The week promises to be an intense, intimate and unforgettable experience where students will get to know the villagers first hand and live a romantic way of life forgotten in the rest of Europe more than a century ago.

It is an all digital workshop limited to 6 students and everyone should come with their own laptop and editing software. Knowledge of your digital SLR or rangefinder and workflow is essential.

DATES: 12-19 April 2023.

WORKSHOP LOCATION: Valeni, Maramures, Romania Homestays and all meals are included. Participants are responsible for their own transportation to Romania and up to Maramures although the option is available on a first come first served basis for three students to accompany Davin from Bucharest and back by SUV for an additional cost which includes food and accommodation one night each way in a restored Saxon house in Transylvania. A few airlines now fly from western Europe to the cities of Bucharest, Cluj and Satu Mare from where there are daily trains to the city of Baia Mare in Maramures.

REGISTRATION: The workshop is open to any professional or committed amateur who has knowledge of digital cameras and editing software. Participants must come with their own camera, laptop and editing software. All ages welcome!

PRICE: 995 euros.

Add 200 euros for round trip transport from Bucharest to Maramures with Davin by SUV including food and accommodation one night each way in a restored Saxon house in Transylvania. Limited to three participants.

For booking please contact Davin at: [email protected]

ABOUT: Photographer Davin Ellicson, American, born 1978, works from Bucharest, Romania. His first major project was "Țăran" about the period during which he lived and farmed with a peasant family in the remote Maramures region of northern Romania. Davin went for a year without running water, drinking milk straight from the cow while photographing Romanians' fidelity to the earth and folk traditions that he knew were about to vanish. It is the subject of his first book coming out in 2023, designed by Dutchman Sybren Kuiper and with a text by Romanian/American writer and poet Andrei Codrescu. A psychological portrait of the city of Bucharest comprises the second part of Davin's trilogy of photographic works about Romania. Currently, he is working on the final volume, “The Dacia Project”, a retrospective journey around the country by car in both a 2002 Dacia 1310 (a rebadged 1970s Renault 12 and a symbol of Ceausescu's Romania) as well as Dacia's latest 4x4 SUV, the Duster. Davin's work has appeared in The New York Times, Le Monde M, The Guardian and The Official Ferrari Magazine among others. Awards include two grants from The Romanian Cultural Institute in Bucharest.

#romania #maramures #eastern europe #transylvania #photo workshop #photo workshops #davin ellicson #easter #orthodox easter #photoworkshop #photography #documentary photography #reportage

[moongoddessmox]

I posted 8,411 times in 2022

That's 4,593 more posts than 2021!

612 posts created (7%)

7,799 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@justarandomgirly

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

@possibleplatypus

@yungcrybby-anonymousbosch666

@inlovewithhisblueeyes

I tagged 1,750 of my posts in 2022

#rant - 415 posts

#mox mail - 172 posts

#bucky barnes - 152 posts

#fic recs - 147 posts

#sebastian stan - 127 posts

#i'm a hole for daddy seb - 64 posts

#mox at work - 60 posts

#fanfic - 51 posts

#plums in bucharest - 47 posts

#tag game - 38 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#did he take a break from his stylist for this outfit bc after all these looks idk if he'd put those fucking grandpap 9000s with this outfit

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So, congrats on the 2k! ❤ as for your celebration, my mind went blank trying to think of something so for now I'm requesting a blurb about our boi bucky, honestly don't know about what but know you'll rock it anyway– surprise me 😄

Thank you bb <3

So, this is actually pretty long. I found out that I do not have the ability to write anything under 600 words, so here we are! (I might turn this into a series? Hm)

Plums in Bucharest

Warning: none

Word Count: 1,172

Pairing: Bucharest!Bucky x plus size!Reader

Summary: You run a fruit stand in Bucharest and catch the eye of a mysterious loner named Bucky.

Series Masterlist

See the full post

184 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

#4

Warning: 18+, sexual themes

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 515

Prompt: "Don't look at me like that and then feign innocence."

Valentine's Day Blurb for @turbolisedcomet

Prompt List | 2.1k and Valentine's Celebration | Blurb Masterlist

See the full post

186 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#3

Warning: 18+, language

Word Count: 631

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Prompt: “I’m asking because I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

Valentine's Day Blurb for @gutflorizt

Prompt List | 2.1k and Valentine's Celebration | Blurb Masterlist

See the full post

210 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#2

Warning: 18+, fluff, Bucky being adorable

Word Count: 654

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

Prompt: “For you, darling, I would collect every cherry blossom in Japan- no- in the world.”

Valentine’s Day Blurb for @vayollie

Prompt List | 2.1k and Valentine’s Celebration | Blurb Masterlist

See the full post

257 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by @buckyjmsbarnes ❤

Fave color: red and black

Currently reading: just fanfics!

Last song: Playing God by Paramore

Last series: Law & Order: SVU

Last movie: The 355

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: spicy!!!!!

Currently working on: Plums in Bucharest chapter 4 and rewriting my Loki fic for publishing

@writing-for-marvel @mrsdrysdale18 @notmesimpingforanothabritishlad @dimplesandcutesmiles and everyone else who wants to join!!! ❤❤❤ (sorry if y'all were already tagged)

604 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[leydhawk]

I bought some plums at a street market in Bucharest Romania today. I was reminded of something 🤔 can anyone help me remember what?

#catws #bucky #buckys plums

[defectivexfragmented]

There was a brief moment where Bucky actually thought he may have found some calm in Bucharest, a little bit of peace as far away from Hydra as he could get. Enough where he stopped constantly looking over his shoulder, he was now just another face in the crowd. Slowly memories began come back piece by piece and each one was diligently written down in a journal so he couldn’t lose it again. It became apart of the small routine and life he was putting back together in the city.

Mind elsewhere, he was focused on the fresh fruits and vegetables spread out in front of him at the outdoor market - particularly for plums for the next few days. The market was buzzing with people and every so often he lifted his gaze to scan around him before going back to what he was doing. Again, storm colored eyes rose to glance around him then froze on the man at the stall next to him, dropping what was in his hands as he took several steps back in shock.

“Y-You...” There was no recollection of the other’s name, only the memory of them fighting tooth and bloody nail during the Vietnam War. Each breath came quicker, the urge to run far and fast rising up inside him like bile though he managed to keep his feet firmly planted in place. His mouth opened but no words came out, snapping shut again as his mind raced to catch up.

“How did you find me?!” Despite how he tried to come off as calm, there is no hiding the flash of fear in his eyes.

@backoffbub

#backoffbub #muse: bucky - staring problem - barnes

[mox-writes]

Plums in Bucharest | Chapter Three

Warning: 18+, angst, smut, mentions of death, blood, and scars, bruising, small mention of unintentional violence, lots of crying, shirtless Bucky

Word Count: 6,033

Pairing: Civil War!Bucky x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Bucky struggles to overcome his trauma when faced with a triggering situation. Reader's past resurfaces.

A/N: Man, oh man. This wasn't supposed to be so long, but there was so much I needed to say! Certain parts are indicated with [*#] which means at the end of the story, there are gifs that show exactly what I meant for the moment to look like. I didn't wanna drop a gif in the middle of the story. I didn't translate the poem into Russian, just because, but just imagined it is. This is the poem used, there's no real significance behind it, I just used what I found with the word longing.

As always, crossposted on moongoddessmox! Please reblog and give feedback! I love to hear it<3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

(flashbacks inspired by this song, thanks to @vayollie)

Flashback:

You sat in a crowded bar, the dancing crowd was tinted red by the strobe lights. Thigh-high stilettos adorned the lower half of your body, a red velvet bodycon dress accompanying it. You watched a tall gentleman sit at the bar from across the room, he was dressed in an expensive suit, worth at least $4,000, and sipped on top-shelf liquor. Your eyes fluttered to the person that stood next to you. A tall, muscular man acting as your bodyguard, a ploy for the people in the crowd, and signaled him away.

Your gaze went back to the man at the bar until he looked back, a smirk presenting itself on his face as you squint your eyes lustfully at him. You exuded wealthy energy; something untouchable and domineering and it caught his attention. He picked up his drink and brought it over, four fingers in his jacket pocket with his thumb out, a gaudy ring on it. When he reached the VIP table you sat at, he tipped his drink slightly, a nod to say hello.

“I would offer such a beautiful woman a drink, but it seems you have everything you need,” his Russian accent was thick as he motioned toward the scattering of many different crystal bottles of the finest alcohols in the bar. You rose one brow as you sipped on the martini in your hand, the other splayed across the back of the booth.

“I’m a woman of many pleasures, I’m always open to more.” You spoke seductively, hooking him in the allure. He smirked again, motioning for the waiter to come over and ordering you something pricey.

“May I?” he gestured toward the empty seat next to you. You waved your hand over it, inviting him to sit down with a smirk. “A beautiful woman should never drink alone,” he said, grazing his rough fingers over your hand that laid on the booth. You leaned your head back and let out a soft laugh.

It had been two months since you and Bucky had gone out on your first date and you had fallen in love with him more every single day. You hadn’t gotten him to open up about his past yet, it was a hard conversation to have and you were patient with him. He seemed to try and pretend that everything was fine, that he was just some normal guy with a metal arm, but on the nights you didn’t spend with him, he would have nightmares about Hydra and the crimes the Winter Soldier committed.

“Buck, I want you to meet my friends tonight,” you said over your shoulder as you cooked breakfast in his kitchen. You’d finally convinced him to get groceries, even if it was just him raiding your farm-fresh stock at home. You heard Bucky sigh as he rolled over on his bed, pulling his eyebrows together thinking about interacting with anyone but you.

“Do I have a choice?” he asked sleepily, laying on his side to watch you plate an omelet.

“You always have a choice, Buck,” you made sure to look him dead in the eye when you spoke, reassuring him that he didn’t have to do anything he was uncomfortable with, “I would just love for you to meet them, that’s all.” You brought his plate over and handed it to him in bed. He scooted up and laid his back against the wall. You grabbed your plate and sat next to him.

He pondered it for a moment, thinking of everything that could go wrong and coming to the conclusion that as long as you were with him, he would be okay.

“Alright, fine, but only if I don’t have to play any of those party games,” you laughed, shaking your head at him and returning to your omelet. He was an old soul, confused by the idea of Cards Against Humanity; it was one of the things you loved about him. He liked to sift through old books at local shops, listen to vintage music, and enjoy the peace of nature. Though, you had noticed something in his demeanor when you’d watch TV and commercials about the latest technological advancements that would come on. You believed it was a twinkle of fascination like he was a child looking at an advertisement of some new toy, but he always stifled it, like he was afraid to pique an interest in it. You didn’t bring it up, not wanting to force any harsh memories if it had something to do with his past–his arm.

“I’ll pick you up later, I have some business to take care of then we can head over,” you kissed his cheek. You hadn’t had sex yet but had gotten extremely close to oral one time when he’d kissed down your sore body after a hard day of harvesting. You were completely comfortable with kissing though, and you did it quite frequently. Bucky was insatiable; he loved feeling the embrace of your lips on his, a comfort that soothed his soul. It was like you were one in that moment, two bodies, two entities meshed into a single being.

He hummed as he took your lips to his, closing his eyes and taking in your warmth. Both of his large hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks and holding you close to him, a spot you loved to be in. Your arms wrapped around his waist, slipping up his shirt just barely, enough to feel the groove of his spine. Bucky wasn’t comfortable taking off his shirt yet, he hadn’t revealed what the junction of flesh and metal looked like because he was scared that you’d be disgusted by it. He was. He hated how it looked, burnt jagged flesh melded with silver metal. A constant reminder of what Hydra did to him, a reminder of who he was: The Winter Soldier.

When you got out to your car, there was a manila folder tucked under your windshield wiper. You clenched your jaw and quickly grabbed it, pressing it to your chest in case Bucky came outside and saw it. You got in your car and looked around for any sign of who left it. When you didn’t see anything unusual, you leaned your head back with a sigh, mentally cursing yourself for thinking you could get away from your past. You weren’t sure how to tell Bucky about it, especially since you wanted so desperately to be a different person, but you knew it would come out eventually, you just figured you’d have more time before it started resurfacing.

You opened the folder and inside were pictures of a wealthy man, probably someone with an incredulous amount of power and all the wrong intentions. You didn’t bother to look any further, not wanting to read the details because you were adamant about staying away from your previous line of work. You shoved the folder in your glove compartment and sped off, trying to focus on your plans for later that night.

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” your friend, Alina, greeted Bucky as you walked in the door of her home. He smiled shyly, a timorous demeanor you hadn’t seen since you were just acquaintances at a fruit stand.

“Oh my god, is this him?!” your other friend, Carmen, shouted with a drink in her hand. She rushed to the front door where you stood together and ogled at him. Bucky blushed, his cheeks burning red; not only from the attention, but knowing that you told your friends about him, and seemingly told them a lot.

“Guys chill,” you widened your eyes with a threat before returning to look at Bucky. You gripped your arm around his and pressed your face against his large bicep. “Sorry,” you whispered low enough for only him to hear. He brought his gloved hand to yours and gently squeezed it, reassuring you that all was fine.

Later in the night, you were sitting around a large table with Bucky by your side, one hand on your thigh, and beer in the other. You had told him to give you a little squeeze if he got too uncomfortable and needed to leave, so he kept his hand planted on your leg, drawing circles with his thumb and waiting to use his out.

The group was talking about poetry while Alina and Carmen cleared the dinner dishes away. Many of your friends were involved in the arts one way or another, and all were multilingual so it wasn’t uncommon for them to recite poetry in other languages. Viktor hadn’t peeled his eyes away from you and Bucky, barely engaging in the conversation of “most romantic poem”.

“So, what’s with the gloves?” Viktor asked, disrupting the chatter. He was one of your male friends from high school, a Russian exchange student with a very obvious crush on you. He steamed with jealousy at your arrival with Bucky, sizing up the much larger man. Bucky clenched his jaw, the thumb on your thigh stopped twirling small circles and became stiff, waiting for the moment he’d need to give you a squeeze. You noticed immediately that his demeanor had changed and mentally cursed Viktor for potentially ruining the night.

“Poor circulation,” Bucky lied. He hadn’t even taken off his jacket to avoid anyone seeing the metal underneath his clothes. Viktor squinted his eyes, letting out a wordless hum before averting his attention to the poetry discussion that picked back up.

You looked at Bucky, his blue-eyed gaze met yours with a small twitch of the lip–a smile that was only meant to ward off any further investigation into his feelings. Just by the look in your eyes, he knew you weren’t going to dismiss how he felt so easily. You wrapped your arm across his lower back, giving a gentle squeeze. It eased him a little, knowing that you were frustrated with Viktor’s behavior just as much as he was without saying a word.

As Carmen set out a party game, Bucky tensed. He sat up straight and was noticeably agitated. You furrowed your brows, watching the silent panic rush through his body. His hand squeezed your thigh tighter than he had intended, definitely leaving a bruised handprint behind but you didn’t care, your mind was only on what got Bucky so upset.

“Hey, you okay? You don’t have to play, we don’t judge around here,” Carmen said confused, thinking it was the choice of game that got Bucky riled up. You could tell it wasn’t, something else had caught his attention and made him uncomfortable. You followed his gaze to Viktor, who was reciting a poem in Russian.

“...And in my solitude dost mock my praise…” he trailed off upon noticing the commotion. What about it had caused Bucky to react as such? You thought about it, remembering the previous line. “Thou hast outrun their longing with delight,” you were still confused, finding no clues in the passage, not knowing Bucky’s history with the word longing in Russian.

“You okay, man?” Viktor asked, with no real concern in his tone. He seemed more annoyed than anything. Bucky released your leg–you hadn’t even realized that he was still holding his grip the entire time–and stood up abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he said before rushing for the front door. Everyone looked at you confused. You gave a small smile and excused yourself as well, trailing after him.

“Bucky!” you called out upon exiting the house. He was walking down the street, trying to get as far away as possible. You called out to him again when he didn’t stop, jogging up to his quick form. “Hey, stop,” you grabbed his arm. He flinched away, stopping and taking a few steps away from you.

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” you swallowed hard, scared that he meant your entire relationship.

“What was? What happened?” you softened your voice, your eyes full of concern as they stared right through his soul. Seeing his eyes in the moonlight was ethereal; gorgeous blue irises full of water like a devastating ocean. It crushed your heart. Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes on you as he blinked away tears.[*1] His breathing had become ragged and it looked as if he was trying desperately not to break down.

“I-I,” he swallowed hard and sighed, pain etched on his face, “I was brainwashed, a long time ago, but it’s still in my head,” the tears fell from his eyes, streaming down his face as he struggled to get his words out; each sentence broken by short pauses. You released the breath you were holding, eyebrows stitched together and tears threatening to fall from your own eyes.

“That poem, one of the words, was the first word in the sequence,” he tightened his jaw and shut his eyes, “the sequence to get me to turn into a murderer, Y/N. No control, no mercy,” his lips trembled as he tried to shake away the thoughts of his past, of all the people he hurt. You were in agony seeing him like this, so scared and broken like his whole world was coming undone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I never should have come tonight, I should’ve just stayed away,” he was breaking down, every emotion was flooding from his lips, a sea of pain in every word. You shook your head, stepping toward him only for him to retreat back again.

“Bucky…” your voice still soft, gently cradling his name in warmth and security. You took another step, this time he didn’t move, just watched you through blurred vision. He tensed when you placed your hand on his flesh bicep. You weren’t sure how you could comfort him, what could you even say that would make it better? All you knew was that you wanted him to not feel alone.

Your other hand tenderly brushed the tears away from his cheek and he pulled his eyebrows together at the touch, closing his eyes and leaning into your palm. You looked at him for a moment, words jumbling in your mind, trying desperately to form a coherent thought that would help. You sighed, dragging your hand from his cheek to his chin and nudging him to look at you. Bucky opened his eyes, the blurriness of his tears fading away, seeing you clearly in front of him until you said the only thing you could, the only thought that was clear.

“I love you,” the words rocked through him like an earthquake, breaking down his walls and shaking him to his core. He never thought he’d hear it, those three measly little words. But there you were, so comforting, so genuine, so kind; you were a dream. A fantasy he couldn’t believe was real. Someone who loved him. Loved? How? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He couldn’t even process your tenderness, your affection; love was so far beyond his scope that he almost broke down again at the sound of the words.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and holding him so tightly you thought you’d crush him. You melted with warmth as you felt Bucky’s arms snake around you, holding you with a fervent grip. You could hear his sobs in his chest, a jagged breathing pattern trying to be suppressed by slow breaths.

He placed his hands on your arms, pulling away from your grip to look at your tear-streaked face. You watched him, waiting for him to speak.

“I love you too,” the words felt like a release of tension, like steam being let out of a pressure cooker and settling his nerves until he couldn’t stop the rest to follow, “Y/N, fuck, I’m so in love with you,” he was crying again. Overwhelmed by the release, he brought you back into a hug, sobbing out the words over and over. There was no turning back. No way he could be without you anymore, no matter what happened, no matter who came for him, he had you and he never wanted to let go.

You had managed to get back to your house, setting your things down and taking Bucky by the hand. You didn’t speak much on the way there, still caught up in the emotional end to the party and just wanting to sit quietly, holding each other’s hand. You took him up the slightly curved staircase to the second floor and to your bedroom. Bucky watched you in silence as you took off your jacket and kicked off your shoes. The air was thick with sexual tension, you could both feel it. It finally felt like the right time, the perfect moment, both of your feelings out in the open; exposed and vulnerable. You parted your lips slightly, running your tongue over them and looking him up and down. Bucky’s breathing hitched under your gaze, butterflies blooming in his stomach in anticipation.

“I’m going to shower, then you can go after me if you want, just want to make sure I have enough hot water,” you winked, lifting the mood a bit. Bucky smiled at you and sat on the small couch in the corner of the room to wait his turn. When you got into the bathroom and shut the door, you started to panic. Frantically gathering everything you needed to get extra clean, it was like a mini rushed spa day while Bucky looked around your room from the couch. The bed was large and had a thin wooden canopy frame with sheer fabric draped around the top. Lots of plants, and furniture that matched the wood of the bed. The blankets were draped over the mattress and looked like the coziest spot he’d ever seen, plush and soft and warm. One wall had a giant window that overlooked the garden and brought in droves of moonlight. The couch faced a little hallway nook with the door to the master bathroom and a walk-in closet. It was a large and open room, probably just as big as his entire apartment.

When you got out of the steamy shower, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Scars littered your body, most could be explained away as accidents or childhood fun, but a couple, in particular, were long, jagged, and deep. Raised scars that looked very much like the remnants of torture. As your fingers grazed over one that splayed across your ribs, flashbacks of your past fluttered through your mind.

You led the Russian man up a staircase, his hands on your waist and drunken breath on your neck. The music in the club was just a muffled beat in the background.

You shook your head, coming back to reality, but still hearing the faint thumping of the club music in the back of your mind. You stepped out of the bathroom in just your towel--larger than a typical bath towel, seeing as those didn't wrap around your thick body. Bucky looked up and his jaw dropped slightly before clenching.[*2] He pushed back his long hair and scanned your body, adjusting in his spot as he grew harder. You noticed the tightening in his pants and bit your lip, eyes running down his body until they landed on his twitching crotch. Bucky blushed, pulling his legs closed and standing up.

“My turn,” he said softly as he brushed past you with a smile. Your fruity scent filled his nostrils as he walked by. He wanted to kiss you, to take you into an embrace and let his hands wander, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop and he needed to shower first.

When he got out of the shower, he looked at himself. Little did he know you had done the same thing, analyzing every imperfection and scar that couldn't be explained away simply. His major one being his arm. He ran his fingers over the jagged flesh that joined to metal, cringing away at the sight. He was scared to show you in fear that you'd find him repulsive, but after tonight, he had a little more confidence that you'd see past it. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, preparing himself to walk out in front of you with just a towel around his waist.

You sat on the bed, freshly lotioned and waiting anxiously. You had turned off the lights and lit a few candles, so the room was dim and smelled of honeysuckle. You heard the click of the door, light leaking in from the bathroom as Bucky walked out. You pushed your legs together as much as you could, your thick thighs making it impossible for your knees to touch as you tried to ease the throb you felt. Bucky stood in the dark by the door, the flickering flames casting an orange glow over his slick body.

You looked at him in awe. He was gorgeous. Broad and muscular, arms forced away from his sides by his muscles, pronounced abs and soft pecs, the kind that squish and jiggle but become tight when flexed. Perfect for gripping onto. You hummed, taking in every inch of his body. Bucky shyly moved forward, his body more visible now that he stood only a few feet away. You looked at his face, his wet hair was slicked back with a few strands falling forward, his full cheeks tight as he clenched his jaw. He watched as your eyes traveled across his face, down his gulping throat, and over to his metal arm. You looked down the length of it, shiny and glistening, the candlelight bouncing off of it and reflecting on the walls. You brought your eyes to the junction of metal and flesh, eyebrows stitching together as you imagined the pain he must have gone through for it to look so rough.

You must have looked at it a little too long because Bucky started to retreat, eyes dropping to the floor as he stepped back. You quickly averted your eyes to his, seeing embarrassment painted across his face. You stood from the bed and grabbed his wrist, causing him to look up at you. Tears. Tears were in his eyes for the third time that night. Your heart broke.

“I know it’s ugly, it’s so fucked up, I understand that you don’t want to go through with this,” he spoke softly before you had a chance to. You sighed, although it sounded more like a scoff. You were in disbelief. He was so gorgeous and he didn’t even know it.

“Bucky, you are absolutely beautiful.” Your voice was confident, strong, with no hint of uncertainty whatsoever. He pulled his brows together, looking into your eyes. He searched for any judgment, just like the first day you came to his apartment. He still couldn't find any.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered, not able to believe what he was hearing. You put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him, passionately bringing your bodies together and slipping your tongue in his mouth. Bucky moaned against you, his walls crumbling down as he felt the security of your love wash over him.

You pulled away, breathing heavily, and caressed his face. You led him to the bed and had him sit down with you in his lap. His hands held your hips as you straddled him. You could feel his hardness through the towel and it made you quiver. You gently kissed his lips, sucking softly on the flesh before trailing over his stubbled cheek. The sensation left goosebumps in their wake as you continued down his neck. You reached his shoulder, tenderly kissing the cool metal before bringing your attention to the intersection where it met his body. Bucky exhaled deeply as your lips tended to the rough skin, soothing his mind and relaxing the prickles of pain he constantly felt at the site. As your lips worked on his shoulder, you slid your hands down his wide chest, feeling every perfect dip and curve of his body before landing at the edge of his towel. Bucky’s hands slipped under the bottom of your own towel and squeezed your thighs. You winced a little, barely noticeable to a normal person, but Bucky wasn’t normal. He was highly aware and attentive to everything–every movement, every breath, every sound you made. He pulled away from your kiss and searched your face for the problem.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern rising in his voice.

“Nothing,” you responded. You had forgotten about the bruise on your leg from when he gripped you too tight at dinner. You didn’t care, it wasn’t the worst injury you’d gotten, it was actually on par with a mosquito bite but Bucky didn’t believe you. He slid your towel up and examined your legs, seeing the large print of his hand on your left thigh.

“Y/N…” there he went again with the tears, it was like it was his mission to break your heart. His eyes welled up, waterline turning red as he pulled his hands away from your skin. “I’m so sorry…look what I did, I knew this would happen.” his voice cracked. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him against you.

“Bucky, please don’t go. I promise you it’s okay, I’m okay. I’m not mad, I’m not hurt, it’s not your fault,” you begged him. You wanted him to trust you, to trust himself, to stay with you.

“But it is my fault, I did that,”

“No, you were frightened. You can’t hold yourself accountable for that, Bucky. You were brainwashed, and hearing one of the words that could turn you? Buck, that would force anyone to react the same way. I promise you, I’m okay.” You climbed off of him, scanning for any sign that he believed you but he was still cursing himself for bruising you. Your hands went up to the top of your towel, pulling it open and dropping it to the floor. Bucky looked at you, eyes full of adoration as gazed upon your naked body.

Something churned inside him, a needy ferocity that made him so desperate for your body. The passion burned through him a volcano, fiery and lingering on his skin like he was covered in hot ash. God, he wanted you but he wanted to be so gentle, so careful so he didn’t hurt you. As Bucky’s eyes wandered around your body, he noticed every mark and scar. Beautiful stretch marks adorned your stomach that hung softly past your hip line, more lightning strikes over your hips and thighs, even your arms. Your hip dips were the perfect spot for his large hands like they were made especially for him. Then he noticed the jagged scars that riddled your skin. Your ribs looked like they had been stabbed and sliced with a serrated blade, scars that looked like bullet wounds laid on your stomach. Bucky’s face twisted in distress.

“Baby…?” he reached out for you, large hands sliding their way from your hips to your ribs, he thumbed over the biggest scar gently.

“I have a past of my own, Bucky, so I promise you,” you knelt down in front of him, placing your hands on his meaty thighs, his hands on your cheeks, “I’m okay, and I love you so much.” Bucky leaned down and brought you into a deep kiss, revitalizing the sexual desire in the room.

Not much talking happened after that, which you were thankful for; you weren’t quite ready to explain your past. You slipped your hands under Bucky’s towel and wrapped your fingers around his throbbing cock, the feeling making him moan instantly. It had been decades since he’d felt anything like it. The closest he came was touching himself after visiting your fruit stand at the market, the image of your perfect face and body in his head, so desperate to have you underneath him. And now he did. He had you naked and wrapped around his cock, pumping it gently and looking up into his eyes. Bucky tried so desperately to hold on as long as he could.

You removed the towel and licked your lips, salivating at the thought of him in your mouth. Your fingers slid up and down his length, dribbling precum onto your hand and beckoning delicious moans from Bucky’s pink lips. Your tongue made contact with his shaft, licking up and over the precum on your fingers until it found its way to his tip. Bucky cursed as you slipped him into your mouth, gingerly sucking the head of his cock until you had lapped up everything that had spilled out. Your hand moved down to hold the base of his length, your mouth following it as you took him deeper. He threw his head back, your warm mouth slicking his cock and sliding back and forth. He tangled a hand in your hair, guiding you up and down as his moans filled the honeysuckle air.

You loved the taste of him. His thick and veiny cock filled your mouth so perfectly, sliding over your tongue and hitting the back of your mouth softly. It was pure bliss having him writhe under you, such a bulky man so needy for you, whining and moaning as you stuffed him into your mouth. When you felt him start to twitch, you wanted to go faster, wanted to fill your throat with his warm cum and suck down every last drop. But he stopped you, pulling you off his tender cock and bringing you up into a kiss.

“I don’t want to cum yet, doll, I need to feel you around me,” he breathed between kisses. You moaned against him, straddling his waist again and grinding your wet pussy across his length. Bucky hissed, the tease of your folds almost making him lose control. He let you slide back and forth a few more times before sweeping you into a tight embrace and flipping you onto your bed. You giggled as he kissed your neck, his tongue sliding across your skin until he took your nipple in his mouth. Your hands went immediately to his wet hair, holding him close as he bit and sucked on the sensitive bud, licking circles around it and bringing it back into his mouth.

His metal hand played with the other breast, squishing and pinching the skin and sending tingles to your cheeks.

“Bucky…” the moan of his name made his cock twitch. He groaned against your flesh and let go with a wet pop. Bucky came back up to your face, engulfing you in a wet kiss.

“You’re going to make me cum if you moan my name like that, darling,” his words made you smirk. He was so desirous for you, any little thing could set him off and you loved having that control. Finally, Bucky pulled back from your lips and trailed his tongue down the center of your body until he was lined up with your dripping pussy. The sight alone made him twitch again, so eager to feel you around him but wanting to dive face-first into you. And that he did. He wasted no time submerging himself into your core, face smashed against your skin, his breathing obstructed but he didn’t care.

“Oh fuck, o-oh f-” you yelped at the contact, his tongue dashing out and licking up your juices. You gripped his hair again, pulling it away from his face where it tickled your thighs and held it in a bun. Bucky’s face was moving violently, covered in your slick and feeling every inch of you. You had to tug on his hair to remind him to come up for air. He didn’t care, he would suffocate and die between your legs if it meant he could taste you forever.

“Oh baby, you taste so good,” he panted when you pulled him up for air. You watched him dive back in, barely taking a moment to breathe, blue eyes still looking up at your face that twisted in pleasure. You were so overwhelmed by the feeling that you couldn’t make any sound anymore. Your moans caught in your throat and forced your orgasm to build up. Bucky could tell you were close; your legs were shaking and your pussy throbbed under his touch. He sucked on your clit, pulling it into his mouth and sucking until it was suctioned against his tongue. His hands held your thighs open as you let out the breath you were holding, releasing your orgasm onto his face and into his waiting mouth. He moaned at the taste, lapping up every drop and licking his lips. He placed a small kiss on your sensitive clit before kissing up your body.

Bucky’s lips were on yours in an instant. Hungry and needy as he pulled your legs up to open you wide, allowing him easy access to line himself up. He looked at you, your face still settling from the intense high you just coated him with.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly as his tip teased your aching vagina.

“Yes, Bucky, please…I wanna feel you, I want you to fuck me-” he shoved himself inside, eyes rolling back in his head immediately as the feeling of your wet warmth blanketed his cock.

“Holy shit,” he breathed as he slid most of the way out, leaving just his tip past the threshold. You put your hands on his shoulders to try and gain some stability. Your pussy was swollen from his mouth and so tender as he slapped down into it. Long, hard strokes started him off, stretching you out around his phenomenally thick cock and had you moaning his name. You were so beautiful in the candlelight, skin glistening now from sweat and looking like it was encrusted in diamonds tinted orange by the flame, contrasted by the blue of the moonlight that seeped in from the window like a complimentary paint palette. Your body was soft and jiggled with each thrust he made. He kneaded your skin, thick fingers squished every inch he could reach. He couldn’t get enough of your body–god, you were so beautiful, so enchanting, so tantalizing. So perfect.

Bucky pressed his big body down to yours, picking up the pace and caging your head in his arms. His lips were grazing over yours, moving up and down with every quick thrust but not kissing you. Just teasing flesh on flesh and trading warm breathy pants.

“You’re so gorgeous, darling–f-fuck, you’re so-” the knot in his stomach snapped, twitching his cock and releasing a flood of warm cum into your beating vagina. As soon as it hit your plump walls, you shook, screaming out an orgasm that had Bucky begging in your ear.

“Just like that baby, oh shit, just like that. Cum for me, cum for me, good girl,” his words so filled with lust that you could’ve cum a third time.

When Bucky cleaned you up, he made sure to pepper kisses on the bruise on your thigh, still apologizing profusely for it. You allowed him one apology acceptance then went back to refusing to believe he needed to say sorry. After blowing out the candles, Bucky laid down next to you, wrapping you in his big arms and kissing your neck tenderly.

“I love you,” he whispered, breathing softening as the exhaustion took over him.

“I love you too, Buck, so much,” you felt him sigh against your skin. A good sigh. A happy sigh. One last kiss to your neck–triggering a broken flashback.

The Russian man kissed your neck as you unlocked the door to a secret room, soft whispers in his language spoken in your ear as you guided him behind the door. Black clouded your vision. Once it cleared, you were sitting in a large chair. You tipped your head forward, eyes leaving the ceiling and looking down at the body on the floor. The Russian man, soaked in blood and lying lifeless on the tile. A blade in your right hand, martini in the other.

[*1]

[2*] - UGH, every gif is literally RIGHT before or RIGHT after his little jaw clench. Close enough though.

(I don't typically do tags, but I remembered so here you go!@meisspookycrayon)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #fanfic #bucky #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #plus size reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #plums in bucharest #beefy bucky #civil war bucky #captain america civil war #Spotify

[delicatelyherdreams]

Teardrops on Lashes

Status: COMPLETED

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After the Chitauri invaded New York and nearly ended your life, you moved to Bucharest to get away from the superhero stuff. You simply wanted an uneventful, ordinary life. But when a stranger moves into the apartment next to yours, you begin to question those aspirations and choose to risk it all for love.

Parts Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 // Part 15 // Part 16 // Epilogue

Extras & Deleted Scenes

Getting a Kitten

James and Jamie

(y/n)’s Plum Pie

Author Input

What’s your favorite line of dialogue? What part was hardest to write? Where did the title come from?

What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics? Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

What inspired you to write the fic this way? What did you learn from writing this fic?

About Part 9′s Kiss Scene

Final Remarks

Inspired by Teardrops on Lashes

Moodboard by @notimetoblog 

Aesthetic by @harryrholland

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #plums for bucky #plum pie #plums #bucky is not a villain #romania #romance #bucharest #avengers #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #series #bucky series #bucky in bucharest #fluff #baking