#post tws

[billyballzzzzz]

Sergeant. I am obsessed with you.

[stuckydrewx]

Steve’s texts to sam and nat while searching for bucky

[moonlitdesertdreams]

The Beach

A/N: Shirtless Bucky? Shameless fondling? I think so Relationship: Bucky Barnes | Winter Soldier x Reader (implied/established relationship) Tags: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x y/n, The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, Winter Soldier!Bucky, fluff WARNINGS: consensual petting, FLUFF Summary: Post CATWS, you and Bucky have found temporary refuge somewhere warm and tropical. Now, you both enjoy an early morning on the beach.

Word Count: 1.1k+

You’ve decided you like the beach. 

Ten months after escaping HYDRA, you find the warmth of the sand and the sound of the ocean therapeutic. Your worries ebb and flow with the tide, peaking at night in your dreams and subsiding as the sun rises. Skin, previously pale and dry from captivity, is now sun-kissed and glowing. You even changed your hair, allowing it to grow in a way HYDRA never would. The little shop down the street sells hair dye, and you might purchase some when it feels right. 

Even Bucky, impenetrably serious and ever-vigilant, seems to share your sentiment. 

You wake in a haze of orange light, sun creeping over the mountainous horizon. Rays of light slink into your tiny bungalow from the sliding door, and the smell of coffee rouses you from your sleep. The bed- one you shared to keep each other from waking up screaming - is empty, second pillow cool to the touch. It’s been strange, waking up without a name or past in a place so beautiful, but you’ve kept each other motivated with shreds of memories. The bond you shared was deep, hardened by the torture you’d been subjected to together and solidified by blood. 

In the kitchenette you find a mug of coffee on the tiny counter, a note placed underneath that simply says ‘beach’ in sloped cursive. You try to sip the coffee, only to find it cool and bitter. It ends up running down the drain while you rinse the mug, deciding instead to follow the note outside. You change into a light blue sundress, stepping out of the sliding door to make your way to the water with journal in hand.

It’s warm already despite the early hour, and you trail your fingers across bright green trees and fauna on your way to the sandy beach. Crystal clear water greets you, a lone figure bobbing in and out of the waves. You sit cross-legged in the sand, content to watch him get his morning exercise in. A practiced hand makes note of the date and time, recording everything from the cold coffee to the creamy smell of ripe coconuts on the wind. You lose yourself in the words, adding tens more to the journal already bent from furious scribbling. 

Bucky either decides to keep up his laps or doesn’t notice you, paddling back and forth through rolling waves. You’ve close the journal and set it to the side, purposely slapping the cover shut to catch his attention. He must have been oblivious to your arrival, as he changes his course to immediately swim towards shore. You pad across the sand to meet the Winter Soldier- Bucky- soft hands coming to rest on his mismatched shoulders. He’s shirtless, wearing a teal and gray pair of boardshorts. 

A mischievous look crosses his face for a brief moment, and you just barely choke out a protest before he tries to tug you into his sopping wet body. 

“No!” You backpedal playfully, stepping out of his reach. “My clothes are dry.”

Bucky steps closer, coy smirk turning the corners of his lips. “Clothes can be changed.”

You scowl with no heart, growling his name in warning. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s to no avail.You’ve spent countless hours sparring with Bucky - with The Winter Soldier- and predict his pounce before he leaves the ground. Leaping out of his way is easy, but you forget the speed his titanium arm possesses. It strikes like a cobra, wrapping around your ankle and pulling you down into the sand. You catch yourself with your hands and roll, using your other foot to send a jab to his abdomen. It’s not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to release his grip on you. 

“That was good.” Bucky compliments, climbing to his feet and dusting sand away from his damp torso. He stands with his back to the water, casting a shadow where you’re still sitting in the sand. A hand reaches down to you, offering help up. 

You reach up to meet him, realizing too late that he had you beat in the wits category this morning. As soon as your fingers wrap around cold metal digits his hand pulls back and lifts. You’re scooped into his arms, and he takes off at a run into the waves. 

“Bucky, don’t you-” You’re cut off when both of you plunge into the drink, your clothes soaked beyond help. 

The water is shallow enough to stand, and you find your footing while soft waves rock your body about. Bucky is laughing when you surface, hair wild and plastered to your face. Your dress is in a similar state, every curve and contour of your body highlighted. You do your best to put on a serious face even though nothing but affection is moving through your brain. 

“You are in trouble.” You poke a finger into his chest, and he uses it to draw you into the embrace he searched for just a minute earlier. 

This time, you allow it. Sunshine warms the surface of his prosthesis, glinting into your face and twinkling through drops of water. His body is a familiar comfort, slotting into your arms with the ease of a final puzzle piece. A flesh and bone hand combs through the ends of your wet hair where it brushes the surface of the water. Bucky nuzzles his way down from your crown, nose nudging sweetly against your forehead before plush lips press against yours. 

He tastes like salt and fruit, the sweet tang of pineapple nipping at your tongue when his own traces your bottom lip. A moan escapes you, lost in his mouth as he pulls you in with an iron grip. Your hands creep up his chest, one sliding up to tug not-so-gently on the hair at his nape. His teeth nip at your bottom lip in response, hard enough to draw a whine. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” He murmurs to you, lips leaving yours to trail down the side of your neck. A series of love bites are engraved into your skin, the pain morphing into pleasure as he soothes each spot with his tongue. 

“I could say the same to you.” You purred, nails scraping along his good shoulder. 

A fistful of his hair is locked in your grip when his teeth tweak a pert nipple through the fabric of your dress. 

“Buck…” You turn to look for any stray people walking down the beach, unwilling to be found by any government due to getting carried away with each other in public. 

He chuffs his displeasure with your warning, hot air dancing across the already sensitive skin on your neck. Bucky’s teeth graze by each of the love bites again, and his prosthetic hand squeezes the round of your ass. 

“Let me take you back inside, then.” He kisses your lips in between words. “Show you how beautiful I think you are.” 

Strong hands glide down your curves and squeeze, brushing by the most sensitive parts of your body. 

So, yeah. 

You’ve decided you like the beach. 

-

Thank you for reading, much love ❤

Masterlist

[riricitaa]

I know we've talked about this a lot over the years, but I can't help but always think about it!!

It’s that delicate period right after Steve finds Bucky, maybe in some half-abandoned safehouse in Romania where Bucky is stable enough not to run, but not confident enough to stay without flinching.

They orbit each other carefully, always close, never touching unless absolutely necessary.

They’re both starving, for comfort, for reassurance and for what they used to be, but neither wants to push.

Bucky, he remembers flashes: Like Steve’s smile pressed too close to his own or their fingers brushing, lingering longer than necessary, like moments that feel intimate enough to make his heart beat so fast!!

But he can’t trust his mind, and he keeps wondering, was it real? Was it him wanting too much? Was he projecting feelings onto memories Hydra tore apart and put back together wrong? and he’s terrified of asking because if he asks and Steve says no, he loses the only constant left in his broken world!! So instead he just watches Steve.

Watches how Steve’s eyes soften when he looks at him, how Steve’s hand twitches like he wants to touch him but doesn’t, how Steve stands too close in doorways, like he’s remembering what "close" used to feel like... And Bucky wonders… "If this wasn’t real… why does it still feel like home?"

Steve, Steve remembers everything, he remembers loving Bucky long before he had the words for it, he remembers Bucky loving him back in ways that were quiet but unmistakable and he also remembers everything Hydra did.

So he keeps his distance, not because he wants to, but because he’s terrified of overwhelming Bucky with feelings that might be too heavy, too complicated, too much too soon.

Because if Bucky did feel that way, Steve thinks he deserves the chance to rediscover it on his own, without pressure, without guilt and without the weight of the past forcing him into something he may not want anymore.... So instead, Steve keeps his touches to himself, he keeps the love to himself, but his eyes give him away every single time.

They’re sharing space, an apartment, a hideout, wherever and the physical closeness is always a battlefield:

When Bucky hands Steve a mug, their fingers almost touch. Steve pulls back too fast... Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and finds Steve sitting outside his door, pretending he wasn’t listening... Steve offers him the couch and Bucky accepts, but he sleeps on the floor beside it anyway because being near Steve makes him feel safe... Bucky stands at Steve’s shoulder when they’re out, back-to-back without thinking, and Steve has to breathe through the flood of warmth that brings.

They’re both touch-starved, but neither knows how to reach for the other without taking too much.

And, one night, Bucky’s hand accidentally brushes Steve’s wrist, just a light, barely-there touch and Steve freezes.

Bucky flinches back like he committed a crime. “I- sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Steve catches his hand gently, carefully, like touching him is something sacred “You don’t have to apologize for that”

Bucky swallows hard, his voice is barely a whisper “I don’t know what’s real… and what's not, in my head, I don’t know if… if we were ever… more”

And Steve… God, Steve looks devastated and hopeful at the same time “We cared about each other” he says “A lot, but you don’t owe me anything, not memories, not feelings, not… that”

And Bucky shakes his head “That’s not what I’m afraid of”

Steve’s breath catches “What are you afraid of?”

“That I’m remembering it because it’s what I wanted and not because it happened”

And that is when Steve can’t hold back anymore, he cups Bucky’s cheek, not a kiss, not yet, just warmth.

“Buck… wanting it was real too”

And Bucky leans into the touch like he’s starving.

Because he is.

Because they both are.

[steevbuckk]

FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 53/100

Effects of Obliteration by @geneticallydead

[Post CA:TWS, 25 553 words, Explicit]

Summary:

“I watched a documentary on the bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima a while ago. In the blast radius, sometimes a… a person blocked the bleaching effect of the radiation. So the person was vaporized, but a shadow was left behind, on a bridge or a wall – their shape, their outline, when they were completely gone," Steve said. "It’s called a nuclear shadow.”

“If you’re implying the Soldier is like a nuclear shadow, then that is seriously fucking dark, man,” Sam said dryly.

OR

Before the fall of the Soviet Union, the Winter Soldier was sent to the American arm of Hydra - only there was a malfunction in the cryo-unit that meant it couldn't be opened, and it was left, powered but abandoned, in an underground base.

25 years later, the Avengers find it.

more fics

[dropofbittersea]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Two days," Steve repeats. His words are slow and almost gentle, and there's a small smile starting to form on his face again. "I'm asking you to let me stay here for two days."

Bucky frowns.

"What? Why?" Bucky asks. "What the hell is that gonna do?"

"Remind you what it's like not to be alone," Steve says. His smile looks sad when adds, "because it's been a long time since you weren't."

"That's not gonna change anything," Bucky says, swallowing hard. Steve's words bounce around in his brain. It feels like they're hitting up against spots he hasn't uncovered yet.

"Then you've got nothing to lose," Steve says, raising an eyebrow. "Right?"

(Or: Steve finds Bucky in Bucharest before the events of Captain America: Civil War. They work a few things out.)

[blackwood4stucky]

WIP Game ♡

rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence / excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Tagged by @gyokujyn 🩶

My word is TWIST

Snippets below the cut...

T - snippet from do you trust me with your scars enough to show me your heart (chapter 2)

The moon was quite full as he gazed into the sky. It was weird though. There was a peculiar crimson tint to that ball of light. It was in this moonlight that his skin seemed to itch less and that the burning decreased to a simmer. He became aware of that beloved aroma of peaches and spiced rum then. It made him turn toward the apartment across the way. He could see through the glass of an open window and into a room that almost mirrored his own. In it was Bucky lying prone on his bed looking directly at him. There was glimmer in his eyes that had Steve tripping over his feet to get across the space between them. He knew that look. Never had he been so grateful for the apartment between his and Bucky’s. It was just high enough that he could use it cross the distance whenever he felt the urge to visit with Bucky. He felt that urge often. He only used the front door to be respectful of his best friend’s parents. The simmer beneath his skin, that was steadily building at the look in Bucky’s eyes, had him caring very little about the proper way of doing things now.           With the crimson light shining down on him from the moon, Steve stole across the distance that separated him from his Bucky. He crept through the window and almost groaned at the overwhelming scent that made up Bucky in bloom. Taking in his surroundings, he noticed the bowl of bone broth sitting on the bedside table. The low whines coming from the bed are what made him scramble over. “Stevie.” Bucky’s voice was reedy with want.

W - this is an untitled fic that came to me while working on venom!steve

What if the asset kidnaps Steve during the great search for Bucky Barnes...

That's all I've got on that so far lmfao

I - snippet from those that live between sunset and moonrise from the blade of nightshade, be my strength not my ruin series

          “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” The sound of the vampire’s chuckles scent shivers down his spine, Bucky valiantly tried to keep his body from betraying him but failed. He could only be grateful that the blond didn’t comment on it.           “I asked if you were all right.” The vampire was still clutching his hand. The way those cool fingers felt lightly caressing the burns caused even more slick to leak into his pants. Bucky was too outdone with his body’s responses. Never has he ever had such a strong reaction like this to anyone. “That seems like quite the burn.”           “It— it doesn’t hurt too bad,” Bucky said, internally berating himself for stuttering.            “So, Dr. Barnes—           “How do you know my name?” He questioned the vampire, hastily stepping back only to collide with the table, dropping his bag in the process.           “You’re wearing your Isipho Industries badge,” the blond said steadying him. “I’ve got to say, I’m surprised to see they hired anyone on, are you new?”           “Hardly,” Bucky scoffed as he put more space between the two of them, the tome in his bag momentarily forgotten on the ground. “I’ve been working at II for about a few years now.”           “Ahh, I must be out of touch then. I recently moved back to the city and haven’t really caught up on any affairs from the professional world just yet.”           “You live here too?”           A wry grin pulled at the corners of Steve’s lips as he nodded. “Yeah, I’m in Flatbush.”           “Oh,” Bucky smiled nervously in return. “I’m over there too.”           Steve hummed in surprised. “I’m really intrigued now, an omega witch in Flatbush. A scientist at II no less. They’re such an exclusive company, one of my colleagues applied for a position but was turned down in favor for someone else.”           “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Did they find another job?” Bucky asked.           “They did, and they’re very happy at Pym Tech.”           “That’s good then.” Bucky looked past his vampire companion to see Jack eyeing the two of them suspiciously and sighed. Jack was a nosy sonovabitch and he wouldn’t put it past the guy to say anything to the coven about what he saw today. The last thing he needed was a chance meeting with a random vampire out in the open to be hot gossip straight off the press.           “I was wondering, would you mind indulging my curiosity by joining me for lunch?”           Bucky was taken aback by the question. He couldn’t quite believe that a vampire was asking a witch out like this. It was unheard of, and in public no less. It was against certain outdated rules that he didn’t bother to heed, but definitely didn’t think he would have a chance to break. The smile that graced the blond’s features wasn’t menacing but it did promise many things that the slick pooling in his underwear and his omega hindbrain definitely liked the idea of. He could even see a hint of sharp teeth as they peeked from the vampire’s lips.           “I have plans, sorry.” He looked down at his watch and thanked his lucky stars that his lunch break truly was nearly over. “I’m late for them now, actually. If you’ll excuse me.”           He was about to reach down and pick up the tome when the vampire beat him to it. The blonde handed it to him and, for a moment, their hands touched. Looking up, he could see the blond tense his jaw before putting his hand in his pocket. Bucky could have sworn that he saw something on the vampire’s palm and quirked his brow in question. Before he could attempt to ask, the blond produced a business card. It read Dr. Steven Grant Rogers with an impressive list of letters behind his name.           “I’ll see you around, Dr. Barnes.”

S - snippet from the burning embers of a dying world series prequel aka stucky dune au

Steve stands at the cliff’s edge, witnessing the ships rising from the crystalline waters of Vanaheim and into the starry skies, he can’t help but think of a time when life was much simpler.

T - snippet of from what i've tasted of desire, i hold with those who play with fire aka dark twilight x stucky au

The sensation of his stomach swooping as the plane begins its descent pulls Bucky’s attention away from the open window and onto the filled page. The drawing etched onto the parchment had been transformed into the likeness of the fine line tattoo inked onto his skin. Delicate strokes mimic the lace of a garter belt. Harsh segments and bold shading depict the tale of a blade carved from bone, gifted to him by his bunǎ. It’s the barely there shadows below a cross and beads that remind him of rosaries. Bucky doesn’t understand his own fascination with them but he has drawn them ever since he can remember. It was only fitting that he had them memorialized on his flesh.

The excerpt is inspired by this photo. "Bunǎ" is grandmother in Romanian.

no pressure tags: @ellethespaceunicorn

Your word is DARK