#the first avenger bucky
i loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us || mind_boggling
for @prblyindenial <3
thank you for helping me birth this fic! this is unequivocally for you.
notes: a short stevebucky thing that happens just after the endgame battle. steve realises he must find bucky once the battle is over because after losing him so many times, he swears to never let him go again.
this is an anti steve's ending in endg*me event, everyone else go home!
summary: He didn’t know why he thought Bucky would be different. He figured it was fear of forgetting him. But Steve knew he could never forget Bucky, no matter how much time they spent apart. He was ingrained in his bones and wrapped around his heart like lovers were.
Steve didn’t believe in divine intervention, but it was nothing short of a miracle that Bucky continued coming back to him after all this time. Maybe Bucky loved him, too, and that was all the divinity they needed.
full piece under the cut but if you enjoyed it please give it a reblog and maybe a read/kudos/comment on ao3? hehe thank you
The Snap could be heard across the entire battlefield.
Steve felt his head turn like lightning, trying to identify where it came from, and more importantly, who did it. His eyes found Thanos, fist raised, and Steve pelted across the battlefield toward him as fast as he could.
As he reached Thanos, he saw the empty gauntlet and what Thanos was staring at, the source of the snap; Tony.
All around him, the Chitauri began fading into nothing. His breath caught in his throat at the sight, and he looked for his fellow teammates across the field – for the ones who’d walked through Strange’s portals before him. He saw T’Challa, Shuri, Wanda, Sam: all of them still standing.
Steve took a breath of relief when Thanos turned to dust in front of him, Thor coming up on his right hand side. He dropped Stormbreaker at their feet, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“We did it,” Steve mumbled, turning to Thor, whose eyes were only filled with terror.
“Stark,” He breathed, weakly pointing toward where Tony now lay. “He’s dying.”
They both stood in silence, watching Pepper, Rhodey and Peter Parker collapse in front of Tony. Thor gripped Steve’s arm tighter, and it shook Steve from a catatonia.
He sniffed, looking at Thor. “Is everyone okay?”
Thor shrugged, unable to speak. Steve watched as Bruce approached them both and placed a hand on Thor’s shoulder. He flinched slightly, turning to Bruce, and collapsing into him. Bruce just embraced him, his huge frame towering over Thor and his arms engulfing him.
Steve tried to ignore the pain pulsating from where Tony was dying, wanting to leave Pepper with him in his final moments, and he looked around the silent battlefield. Everywhere he could see people embracing one another in solemnity, T’Challa and Shuri holding onto one another in exhaustion, Clint helping Wanda to her feet, the two of them with their arms around each other supporting each other.
Watching the love pour out of his teammates in reunion was bittersweet; they’d lost people for this to happen. There were people who wouldn’t be coming back after the Snap of Bruce’s fingers. The absence ached in his muscles, and Steve felt empty as he stood alone.
Sam approached him, and before he could even speak, Steve felt tears gush into his throat at the absence of Bucky by Sam’s side.
“You okay, Cap?” Sam asked.
Steve’s eyes darted around quickly, “Where’s Bucky?”
Sam looked over his shoulder, “I don’t know, I lost him a while ago.”
“I have to find him,” Steve started to move, but Sam took his arm quickly.
“Let me,” He said, wings extending, pulling his goggles onto his head. “I can cover more ground quicker. Stay here.”
Steve felt his anxiety pulsing as Sam took off, and he watched him fly overhead and begin surveying the field. He continued looking around anxiously, watching for Bucky in the crowds of Asgardians, the Wakandans, the other Avengers. Every time someone moved, he thought he saw Bucky’s blue jacket, the light reflecting off his Vibranium arm. Just as he grew restless, Sam’s voice crackled over the comms.
“South west from your position, Steve.”
Leaving Thor and Bruce behind, Steve took off immediately. He ran through the crowds, dodging everyone he could whilst also scanning for Bucky. He looked skyward, trying to find where Sam had located him, and kept running toward him. Once Steve had passed a group of Asgardians that included an alien made of rocks, he saw Bucky standing amidst who Steve guessed were the newly reunited Guardians. He only recognised Rocket and Nebula.
As he laid eyes on Bucky, Steve’s breath hitched once again. He found himself stuck on the spot, letting the relief flood through his body. Bucky was okay. He was alive.
Almost as if he could feel him lingering, Bucky turned. When he spotted Steve, Bucky smiled, and that was what urged Steve forward.
He ran toward him, and Bucky met him halfway, the two of them throwing their arms around each other upon impact. After what must have been the entire five years apart from him, Steve felt himself relax in Bucky’s arms. His muscles no longer ached and he felt like he could actually breathe. Tears threatened to spill, but he forced himself to speak instead.
“Don’t go turning to dust on me again.”
Bucky laughed, and Steve thought he could hear tears in his voice. “Don’t try and fight an entire alien race by yourself ever again, dumb ass.”
Steve pulled away from him, still gripping Bucky’s arms in fear of him fading away if he didn’t. He couldn’t take him in fast enough; his face was still the same, his stubble, his hair. His smile lines still wilted in the same way and his eyes were still as blue as he remembered. He could drown in them.
He didn’t know why he thought Bucky would be different. He figured it was fear of forgetting him. But Steve knew he could never forget Bucky, no matter how much time they spent apart. He was ingrained in his bones and wrapped around his heart like lovers were.
Steve didn’t believe in divine intervention, but it was nothing short of a miracle that Bucky continued coming back to him after all this time. Maybe Bucky loved him, too, and that was all the divinity they needed.
“What happened?” Bucky asked.
“Thanos wiped out half of existence.” Steve answered, eyes falling from Bucky’s. “Took us five years to get you back.”
“Five years?” Bucky gaped.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.” Steve replied.
Bucky shook his head with a sad smile. “I’m sorry I left you alone again.”
Steve frowned, “What? Why are you sorry? You didn’t—”
“See how stupid it sounds when you apologise?” Bucky interjected.
Steve’s frown fell into a smile, and he pulled Bucky toward him again. As they hugged, he squeezed his eyes shut to force himself to wake up. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. Anything. Bucky couldn’t be standing in front of him unharmed, unchained and undyingly his. It had taken 78 years to get to that point, and now it was finally his, Steve couldn’t believe it was real.
“I thought you were gone for good,” Steve whispered against Bucky’s shoulder. “I thought I’d lost you for real this time.”
After losing Bucky to war, to Hydra, to cryo, to Thanos, Steve knew this time he wasn’t going to let go. They’d surpassed their own endings, and the only one left was together.
Bucky only clutched onto him tighter. “Not without you.”
Steve had fought aliens. He’d survived things that should have killed him, things that he didn’t even know were humanly possible. Things that weren’t humanly possible. He had lived for over a century and grown in two different worlds, yet he still continued to be in awe of the universe and all it created. It was capable of anything yet it kept bringing him and Bucky back to each other.
Steve lived in a world of aliens, magic and now time travel. But the only thing he needed was the most human thing in all his life. It was right there in front of him. His life. It was Bucky.
Bucky began to pull away from him, but Steve gripped his jacket fiercely, keeping their faces inches from each other. He felt his cheeks flood crimson, and he licked his lips in anticipation. He could’ve sworn Bucky’s eyes watched his lips move when he spoke.
“Can I kiss you?”
Bucky swallowed, nodded. “It took you long enough to ask.”
Steve no longer suppressed his smile and pulled Bucky toward him, kissing him hungrily. Bucky kissed him back, and their lips moving together was the greatest feeling Steve had ever felt running through his veins.
Bucky cupped Steve’s face, and his stubble scratched Steve’s chin as they were pressed together. He far from minded. Steve’s heart pounded against Bucky’s chest, and he could feel Bucky’s pounding just as fast against his own. They were almost in sync. It was perfect, even if it took almost a century.
When they parted, Bucky placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders, Steve still clutching onto his jacket with white knuckles. He placed his forehead on Bucky’s, trying to catch his breath before he kissed him again. Bucky tried to speak but Steve didn’t let him. He stole as many kisses as he could; God knows he had waited long enough.
Bucky pulled away from him, panting. “Steve—”
“I know,” Steve answered, kissing him again. “You don’t have to say it.”
“I want to.” Bucky forced Steve to look at him, holding his face in his hands once again. “I love you. I need you to know that. I’m sorry I was a coward and never said it sooner because I’ve loved you all my life.”
Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realise I loved you too. Because I did love you. I do love you. I always have, despite not knowing it. I love you, Bucky.”
Bucky could only smile. As people moved around them, they grew conscious of an audience and wrapped their arms around each other once again. Steve began to tremble, feeling his body giving up inside Bucky’s grip. The exhaustion was finally kicking in, and he felt unconsciousness calling him.
“Hey,” Bucky murmured into the crook of his neck, lifting him upward. He wrapped an arm around him, the cool of his Vibranium hand lifting his face up toward him. Steve caught Bucky’s eye and he smiled. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Steve only nodded, a smile fading from his lips. “I know.”
Bucky began walking him toward a medical bay. Despite Bucky holding him up, Steve took hold of Bucky’s free hand, the constant need to feel him next to him overpowering any kind of exhaustion. He held onto him tightly, to make sure he was still there. To make sure he wasn’t going to disappear again. To make sure he kept his promise - till the end of the line.
“So,” Bucky spoke up, a smirk on his face. “You can lift Thor’s hammer?”
Steve managed a laugh. “And you finally learned to put your hair up without Shuri’s help?”
“Whoa! That’s a cheap shot.”
“Then don’t mock the new ruler of New Asgard.”
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CA:TFA vs. CA:CW
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Steve Rogers after riding the cyclone in the 1930s: I frew up
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Do you guys ever wonder how that scene where Peggy shoots at Steve would have gone if Bucky was in the room?
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Sooo I’m rewatching the first captain America film because science and nostalgia 🙂 and damn idk it hits different like lil scrawny Steve and Bucky and him saving Bucky and Bucky Bucky Bucky yeah that made no English sense thanks if you got this far 😭😭
Sebastian Stan having fun in a ball pit
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Bucky is rescued after Azzano in 1943 and falls from a train over the Alps in 1945. That's a long time to not realise something's changing.
"So why tell me?" Dugan finds himself asking.
The kid makes another little aborted reach for the pack of cigarettes. "Cause… I couldn't keep it in any longer. Cause I was starting to feel like I was gonna go insane," Bucky pauses, clasping his hands together in front of him as he hangs his head, the tension in him almost painful to see."But mostly because I got shot up with some weird Nazi shit and someone should probably be keeping an eye on me. Just in case, you know."
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SEBASTIAN STAN AS BUCKY BARNES🛡️🛐🌈🤍💙🖤🥰🥺🐺
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AJ's Teacher when Sam and Bucky pick AJ up from school: AJ did so well on his World War Two history assignment! It was very well written and he did so much research!
AJ: Yeah. Research.
(Bucky and AJ sneakily sliding their hands in a handshake behind their backs)
Sam: Oh really. Did he now?
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self-care is listening to the captain america winter soldier soundtrack on repeat
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Do people ever think about what it was like for Bucky between his rescue from Azzano and falling off the train? We don't see much of it in the film, but think about it. He's dealing with the trauma of being a POW and being tortured and experimented on, but also, he's got to deal with the serum
Does he actually know what they've injected him with? His conversation with Steve suggests he does, but even if he didn't he'd work it out. And now he's got to deal with the fact he's stronger, faster, heals quicker, etc. If Steve, his best friend didn't notice anything was up, then no one would have, and Bucky must have kept it pretty hidden. Did he hide all his injuries - all the times he got shot, stabbed etc. - because he knew if someone found out about his injuries, they'd notice how fast he healed? Did he pretend to be a normal person, with normal abilities? And maybe one day, someone died that he could have saved if he hadn't been hiding. How would he have felt. Constantly fighting a battle between 'I can't tell anyone' and 'I could save more lives'. And how would he think Steve would react about it? Would he think Bucky's trying to steal his limelight? (No, but would Bucky know that?)
Maybe he starts accidentally breaking things, because he doesn't know his own strength. Maybe he's always hungry (more so than before) because his faster metabolism burns up food a lot quicker but it'll be suspicious if he eats Steve-sized portions.
Maybe one day he accidentally shows too much strength in front of someone - like when John Walker bent that pipe in front of Sam. How does he excuse that. Are they going to find him out? Surely, at some point, they'll see him get injured, shot. How does he explain away the fact he's good to go in a quarter of the time it should take?
The pain meds they give him don't work - he burns through them immediately, but he can't say anything. He can't drink at all or they'll wonder why he doesn't get drunk like the rest of them.
How would it feel, no one but him knowing the truth? Having such an important secret bottled up inside? The fear that he can't hide forever. The fear of what will happen if someone finds out. The fear that he doesn't actually know for certain what's been done. The fear that he might end up like the Red Skull. The fear of Zola coming after him to reclaim his experiment.
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Moonlight Serenade, part 3
Posting chapter 3 of my 1940s Bucky Barnes fic! Please reblog if you enjoyed, but do not plagiarise, copy, or repost anywhere else.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character
Summary: After spending the night together, Bucky and Gwen get to know each other a little better.
Warnings: Smut, more smut, Bucky's trauma, fluff and romantic stuff. Strictly 18+. Do not read or interact if you are under 18.
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BUCKY BARNES’ HOTTEST MOMENTS
45. 47/161 votes | Bucky figthing on the train and picking up the shield in Captain America: The First Avenger [prev]
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The Greatest Gift of All
(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)
Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.
Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.
She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.
Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.
Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town.
In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky.
Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.
The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.
A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning.
In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.
Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.
Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.
Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.
Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.
Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.
Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.
So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out.
V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.
She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast.
They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.
Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.
She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.
Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.
Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.
He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.
Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief.
It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being.
Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now?
More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?
Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.
So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.
The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.
What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.
His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.
"Who the hell are you?!"
Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.
"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.
He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."
"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life.
Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.
"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.
"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.
Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."
"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."
Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.
What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.
"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."
She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"
"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."
Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.
Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them.
The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-
Zap. A blinding flash of light.
There's someone there.
Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...
All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition.
The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.
Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.
Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.
But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-
"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.
Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."
Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.
Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her.
"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."
He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."
No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.
Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.
Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."
He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.
So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.
Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.
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I Don’t Think This is Kansas
Captain America: The First Avenger, The P.O.W., and The Time Traveler - Chapter I
Fic Rating: M
Chapter Rating: M (just to be safe)
Warnings: Light mentions of torture (non-graphic)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 2k
A/N: And here we gooooooo! The first chapter of what is going to be a long, multi-fic series, featuring Bucky Barnes x Reader! This chapter isn’t super long, it’s mostly just setting the scene, but I still hope y’all enjoy it! Quite side note, I realize the dates/timeline that I use may not be exactly canon, but I’m gonna stick as close as possible. I may have to tweak certain things for plot reasons, but for the most part I’ll be sticking to the same timeline as the canon franchise, although obviously the story is going to be very AU. Please let me know what y’all think, I’m really nervous about this fic, but I’m also extremely excited!!
Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment! I’d love to know what you think!
Date: February 9th, 2008
Location: Malibu, California
The sound of Back In Black by ACDC playing from your cell for the fourth time in the last half hour finally made you put your pen down, and pick up the call.
“This better be good, Tony.”
An affronted gasp came from the other end of the line, although you could barely hear it over the extremely loud rock music playing in the background.
“I am... offended that you think I’d call you with anything other than life or death matters.”
“Right, so that time that you called me at three in the morning to ask where you’d left your socket wrench was a matter of life or death?”
“Details, details. Why didn’t you answer me the first three times I called you?”
Rolling your eyes at the petulant tone in his voice, you switched the phone to your non-dominant hand and picked up your pen again. “Because, Anthony, some of us actually have jobs to do and bills to pay.”
“I told you, bunny rabbit, your life would be so much easier if you just moved into my place and let my millions take care of any expenses. Don’t you miss seeing me all the time?”
“Don’t whine, Tony,” you muttered fondly. It was an argument the two of you’d been having since your days in MIT together. “Maybe I like a little independence every now and then. And I certainly don’t miss the ragers you threw every other day back in college, I don’t need that kind of excitement now that I’m an adult. Unlike you.”
Tony sputtered on the other end, and you smirked in satisfaction. He was so easy to rile up, and you took great pleasure in pushing his buttons. The two of you had met at MIT, and your relationship had quickly transitioned from classmates to friends to something akin to siblings. You were one of the few women on campus–maybe the only woman on campus–who wasn’t interested in sleeping with him, and once Tony got over the blow to his ego, he’d become your best friend.
“Seriously though, Tony. Is there a reason you’re bugging me at,” you glance at your watch. “Three-thirty on a friday afternoon?”
“Yes, actually,” he says, and you can finally hear his voice properly without it being drowned out by Led Zeppelin as he turns down his music. “I want you to come over this weekend. We’ve got a cake to bake and alcohol to drink.”
Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about. “Tony, why on Earth do we have to bake a cake this weekend? I’ve got about twenty different deadlines this next week, I don’t really have the time–”
“Ah-ah-ah!” Tony waited for you to stop talking before he continued. “We do this little dance every year, bunny. No matter how much you protest, I refuse to let you ignore the passage of time. We are celebrating your birthday this weekend, and that’s final.”
Eyes widening, you drop your pen, swiveling in your chair to glance at your calendar. “Wait, that’s this weekend?” You see the date marked with a little red X on your calendar and you frown. “Hold up, no, my birthday’s on a Tuesday this year, what–”
“Yes yes, I am aware, however I will be in Afghanistan doing a demo of the Jericho missile on your actual birthday, so we’re celebrating early. So, get your cute little butt over to my house after work today. Pepper’s getting the stuff from the store, so we can go wild.”
You were silent for a moment. “I really don’t like that missile, Tones.” The clanking of metal suddenly ceased in the background of the call, and you knew Tony had put down his tools. “I- I know that SI develops weapons, and I know you’re upholding your dad’s legacy, but Tony? There’s so much you could be doing with your life, is making weapons really what you want?”
This wasn’t a new conversation for either of you, but you really didn’t want to let it go. “I know that’s what Obadiah wants, but what do you want? What does Tony Stark want? You’re a good man, Tony, with or without your dad’s legacy.”
“As you constantly remind me.” As he spoke, you could hear the smile in his voice.
You couldn’t help but smile too. “I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise, you know that.”
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, before Tony groaned loudly. “Mushy stuff aside, you are coming over tonight, right?”
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”
“Alright, fine. But only if you tell Pepper and Happy to come too. Lord knows they have the patience of saints if they put up with you on a daily basis. They could probably use the break.”
You could practically picture Tony’s cheerful expression. “Sure! See you later, bunny!”
Rolling your eyes, you hung up the phone and turned back to your work. You’d be a bit behind if you went to Tony’s tonight, but as long as you saved Sunday for work, you’d get everything done in time. Truly, you did miss your best friend, and it’d be nice to get to see him just being himself, if only for a couple hours. You’d made it no secret you hated the “Tony Stark” persona he put on for the world, it was always nice when he shed that part of himself and just became Tony, your best friend from college.
Glancing at the clock, you figured you’d be able to get in a few more hours of work before heading over to Tony’s place. Then, you’d be able to let loose and relax for the weekend, something you sorely needed.
Pulling into the drive, you looked up at the insane mansion that Tony called home. It was the very definition of opulence, custom-built to Tony’s exact specifications. A far cry from your little studio apartment, but honestly, you preferred your tiny little one-room place. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate the absolute marvel of architecture that was Tony’s mansion.
Walking up to the front door, you turned the handle, grinning when it turned in your grasp. As you entered the foyer, a soothing, British voice came from hidden speakers in the ceiling. “Welcome back, Miss.”
A fond smile spread across your lips. “Hello to you too, Jarvis. Is it too much to ask for you to call me by my name? How many times do I have to tell you, you don’t need to be so formal?”
“Well, if you’d prefer, I have an acceptable list of nicknames programmed into my database from Mr. Stark that I could use, starting with–”
“No! No, that’s fine, Jarvis. I’d rather formality over any odd nicknames Tony’s come up with over the years.”
“A wise choice, Miss.”
Setting your coat and purse down on the couch, you looked around the seemingly empty house. “Speaking of, where is Tony?”
“Sir is currently in the garage, working on the ‘67 Shelby Cobra. Shall I alert him of your arrival?”
“Nah, don’t bother, I’ll just head down. Thanks, J!”
“A pleasure, Miss.”
Heading for the stairs, you began to descend the multiple levels, towards the basement where Tony kept his cars, along with all of the tools and scrap he used for tinkering. Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through your stomach, causing you to stumble, catching yourself on the wall.
“What the–” you muttered, panting as you tried to catch your breath. As the pain ebbed, you started to straighten back up, only to double over again as an even stronger wave crashed over you, causing you to cry out.
It felt like someone was trying to claw you open from the inside, and you fell to your knees, nails scratching uselessly at the marble floor as you tried to ground yourself through the pain. Faintly, you could hear Jarvis calling you, asking if he should alert Tony, or call 911, but you couldn’t get your voice to work, other than weak whimpers and cries.
As you tried to reach up to grab the handrail, you cried out in shock as your hand passed right through the wood of the railing, causing you to collapse back onto the ground. “H-Help–” you gasped, staring in horror at your limbs as they became more and more see-through. “Tony, help m–”
Your voice cut off as you faded out, your figure disappearing mere seconds before Tony dashed up the stairs, frantically calling your name. But there was no use. You were gone.
The first sense to return to you was smell. All of a sudden, you were assaulted by a damp, musty scent, not unlike that of a cellar, or one of the old English castles you and Tony had visited on the spring break vacation you’d taken to Europe. The next sense was hearing, as the steady drip drip drip of water assaulted your ears, the droplets sounding as though they were landing on stone, or concrete.
With a herculean effort, you opened your eyes, wincing at the bright light that shone directly in your face. It took you a few moments to orient yourself, but as you did, you came to a horrifying realization. You were lying on a table, your arms and legs strapped down, and what felt like a leather band laid across your forehead, keeping your head in place.
You began to slowly tug on your restraints, your efforts to escape growing more frantic as you heard slow footsteps begin to approach your side, the tap tap tapping of soles on concrete sending sharp spikes of fear coursing through your body.
Gradually, a face swam into view above you, a face that looked vaguely familiar. The man had a small, rounded face, with receding reddish-blond hair neatly combed over his scalp. He had round glasses on, and wore a deep red bowtie. He didn’t look scary, but something in his eyes made you freeze in terror, even as he smiled down at you.
“Ah, you are awake! Excellent.”
You tried to speak, but your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, and you couldn’t get your vocal cords to work. The man seemed to pay this no mind, however.
“Now that you are awake, I am afraid I have a few questions for you, my dear,” the man simpered, reaching out one pudgy hand to brush some hair out of your face, even as you tried–and failed–to flinch away. “Answer them honestly, and perhaps we will let you go.”
He took your silence as acceptance.
“Now. How did you find our base?”
He waited patiently as you swallowed roughly, trying desperately to lubricate your throat, even though your mouth was painfully dry. “P–Please,” you begged, unable to speak louder than a whisper. “I–I don’t know where I am. P–Please let me go.”
Tutting disappointedly, the man turned away for a moment. When he came back into your field of vision, to your horror, he was holding what looked to be some kind of torture instrument, with electricity arcing off the end.
“I was afraid of that,” he muttered, looking down at you with a mixture of pity and disgust. “Well, if you will not answer my questions willingly, perhaps a little persuasion will do.” He lowered the device, pressing it lightly against your bare side.
A scream tore from your throat as your back arched, trying to get away from the electricity. The man held the device there for a few seconds, before pulling it away.
You gasped for air, whole body shuddering from the volts of electricity that had danced across your skin. “I–I don’t know where I am!” You sobbed, pulling in vain on the leather bindings that held you in place. “Please, I don’t kno–AHHHHHH!” Another touch from the device had you screaming once again.
“Well, if you truly do not know where you are, allow me to enlighten you. My name is Doctor Zola. Welcome, my dear, to Hydra.”
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SERGEANT BARNES in his Howling Commandos uniform.
— Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)
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Sebastian Stan - The Mens Sebastian Potrait Poster
Blank walls suck, so bring some life to your dorm, bedroom, office, studio, wherever
Printed on 185gsm semi gloss poster paper
Custom cut - refer to size chart for finished measurements
Includes a 3/16 inch (5mm) white border to assist in framing
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