#tfatws Tumblr posts

  • fictioninmyblood
    28.10.2021 - 24 minutes ago

    Bratty BabyGirls Need Punishments and Aftercare Pt. 1

    Summary: Babygirl puts the b in brat when she takes out a week’s worth of frustrating misogynistic pigs on her Daddies.

    Warning: 18+, Minors DNI, cussin, smut, D/s and DD/lg themes, somnophilia themes, cockwarming, whatever debauchery I can concoct

    A/N: Let’s just say it’s getting harder and harder to let misogynistic comments and actions roll off my back. This is mostly a vent cause these mfs out here trying the last of my nerves. Pt. 2 coming either later today or sometime tomorrow, I wrote way more than orginally intended.

    A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

    Y/N had just about had it with men this week. Usually she could handle the prejudice, catcalls, mild stalking, lood comments, and unnecessary roadblocks to getting shit done but it seemed as if their behaviour had been amplified, especially at her job. All she wanted was to get home and hide for the entire weekend.

    At the ass crack of dawn Monday, a power tripping type A white man did the most at the airport on her way home from visiting her family, purposefully keeping her from getting on her flight. Gave her some bullshit about how her personal bag that was fine on the way was no longer considered a personal bag with this airport. Same company and same type of plane. Repeatedly quoting that she would have to pay extra because it was policy and he wasn't responsible if other employees did not follow through. Then when she got rightfully upset, he threatened to have her and anyone that tried to help her arrested for disruptive behaviour. By the time she got home, well after the close of the work day she was supposed to be able to complete, she could do nothing but shower and sleep away the emotionally tasking effort of not becoming a full out angry black woman.

    Tuesday, the barista at the Starbucks around the corner, couldn’t focus on the words coming out of her mouth, only the movement of her chest. It took him 20 minutes and 5 tries to get her drink right and then had the nerve to leave his number on each wrong drink. The only thing keeping her from ripping his head off was a female associate who obviously had to deal with his behaviour on a regular basis. She gave Y/N a free brownie that helped to sweeten her day slightly. He was doubly lucky she still had 10 minutes to clock in or the sweetness might not have soothed her ever rising flame of anger.

    Wednesday, the new security guard who barely made it through the week didn’t understand the word no. Every day when she came in, instead of just scanning her in, he held her badge hostage with a long drawn out telling of why they belonged together. It didn’t help that his trainer was swamped with trying to fill the positions, fulfill the duties of the still empty positions, and train the new hirees; so he couldn’t monitor the shenanigans like he usually had time to and weed out the undesireables. The skeeze would hold out her badge at the end of each spiel, waggling his eyebrows with that stupid grin on his face, and ask, “so what time should I pick you up?” to which should muster up a somewhat polite, “no thank you.”

    Thursday, this pair of disgusting construction workers found any way to not do their job. They always ended up on her floor, flirting endlessly, telling her how good she’d look in one of their beds. It didn’t matter how many times she changed her route; those two were waiting for her, at her desk, the front desk, the bathroom doors, the cafe, the water fountain, they were there. She was so relieved when she found out construction was only for the day. Too bad the relief was short lived through the night.

    Friday was the worst day of them all. She came in feeling more ready for the day than she had throughout the week, having made it through her entire morning without any mishaps. The day had lulled her into a false sense of security, allowing her to complete her morning tasks and even take an early lunch. She should’ve known that when it rained, it poured. One of her team’s clients had come in a week early and demanded they do their presentation immediately because he had a new vacation home calling his name. Apparently the rich could afford to go on long holidays at the drop of a dime, but not be patient enough to allow the team to actually complete their jobs before providing actionable criticism. The older gentleman’s salt and pepper hair and sharp features made all the women swoon, until he opened his mouth.

    “Shames me to see so many women shirking their duties. My wife would never,” he said.

    And just like that, the delighted swoons turned to disappointed sighs and rolled eyes. Throughout the entire meeting, he would question any female personnel’s qualifications for holding their position and providing information, dismissed any idea presented unless it came from a man’s lips, all while making passes at anyone who glanced his way. It turned what was supposed to be an hour meeting into two and half. He kept making “a woman’s place” comments and ended up ranting about how inferior they were to men. Even worked himself into a tizzy about how “incapable a bleeding woman was of making logical business decisions”. The cherry on top though was when he slapped her ass on her way out the door after everyone else had left the room.

    He said, “If you’re needing a lesson on how to be a real woman, then give my secretary a call. Tell her daddy said he needs some sugar and you’ve got just the dessert I’ve been looking for,” and handed Y/N his card with a wink. She was so shocked at his boldness that she just made a beeline to get her breathing under control.

    Y/N wanted to punch him dead in his throat like Bucky had taught her but knew that without any witness to back her up, her equally misogynistic boss would say some bullshit like, “you should be glad a man of his caliber is even looking at a woman like you.” How’d she know? Because the last time a rich client got fresh with her and she slapped him, she almost lost her job. With barely a few hours left in the work day, she chanted he’s not worth her 401k and prayed that God stayed her hand from knocking these fools into the next century.

    Fucking men, with their ingrained entitlement and inferior perspectives steered by their vulnerable appendages that apparently warrants them as supreme beings.

    There is only so many ways one can politely say “no thank you, I’m not interested,” “you’re absolutely right sir, why didn’t I think of growing balls and saying the same damn thing so that you didn’t feel obligated to steal my idea,” or even, “oh, it’s absolutely okay with me if all i’m worth is what's beneath my clothes.” And if Y/N was anything, it was overly polite and determined to avoid conflict at all costs. Needless to say, her socially acceptable silence had stewed her rage into a bursting volcano; her polite meter was beyond empty, her patience past nonexistent, and her fury reached new fiery heights.

    Pity the man in the line of fire when she finally erupts.


    Bucky was surprisingly the one to pick up on her growing silence first. Sam was too busy taking on the duties of being Captain America to really do anything but sleep and eat between all of his duties, so Bucky had been in charge of keeping up communication with their Babygirl all week. He didn’t mind as much since Y/N had been helping him get the hang of his phone the last few weeks.

    He didn’t have time to reach out Monday, so he first noticed when he called her on Tuesday morning around the time she usually got to her desk. Instead of one of her sweet greetings, she answered her desk phone with a rude “what.” She backtracked and apologized when she realized it was him, dismissing her attitude as lack of sleep and a heavy workload, but he knew there was more to the story. Somebody hurt his bunny. But from past experiences he understood how uncomfortable Y/N felt having one or both of them come to her rescue. She was used to taking care of herself and fighting her own battles and he was going to let her…

    ...for now.

    The rest of the week she had any and every excuse not to facetime or talk with them over the phone, leaving their correspondence to just text. She knew how much Bucky hated texting, in fact it was a habit of hers to text the groupchat and then call Bucky to help him feel more comfortable with technology. But, this week? This week, she skirted around telling them what was wrong, giving them short responses or saying she had too much to do and would talk to them later. Only later didn’t come and before they knew it, it was Friday night with at least 60 hours since the last time he got a response from her.

    “Hey iRobot, did Babygirl call you yesterday like she promised on wednesday? I haven’t even had a chance to say hi all week.” Sam pouted.

    Bucky sighed, “No, and she didn’t answer any of my calls or texts yesterday and today. She didn't even tell me if I used the mojis right.” Bucky’s pout matched Sam’s, “She always praises me for trying at the very least.”

    “E, Bucky, it’s emojis, how many times-”

    “-babygirl doesn’t correct me when I say mojis so…”

    Sam rolled his eyes.

    “Anyway! When was the last time you got to hear and/or see babygirl over the phone, old guy?”

    Bucky growled out “Since Tuesday bird brains.”

    Sam’s joking manner instantly dropped. “Bucky, something is very wrong, we need to get our babygirl.”

    Bucky’s scowl turned into a matching grimace, “You got the same feeling in the pit of your stomach? I’ve had it all week, but I didn’t want to seem like I was overreacting.”

    Sam nodded and gulped. “No, you’re not overreacting. I have a feeling that you’re absolutely right. We gotta do better at paying attention.”

    “I know. But we have got to be even better about pushing these issues.”

    Sam agreed. “Her communication and lack of vulnerability outside of cumming and roleplay, right?”

    Bucky said, “ Yea, we let her be a vault too much. As much as we get on each others nerves though, I am never more grateful for you than when we are on the same page for our babygirl.”

    “Likewise, now let's go make our princess feel better.” Sam said.


    Y/N had given Bucky and Sam each a personalized key to her place about 6 months into their relationship. No partner, let alone 2 had made it that long with her affections so she figured they’d be the ones she could truly trust with this. In this moment they were grateful that they wouldn’t have to take criminalistic measures to get in. Even though it was late/early, this is usually when she would be up, especially on the weekend. They’d hate to add possibly scaring the shit out of her to their surprise visit.

    Bucky and Sam came into her place and it was completely dark and quiet save for a few night lights throughout the place, her white noise playing over the house’s sound system, and light whimpers that could just barely be heard coming from her bedroom.

    Bucky started to go up the stairs but Sam had stopped him with an arm earning himself a death glare.

    “I know, but wait, look at the kitchen.”

    “Nothing is in the kitchen, this is the cleanest I’ve seen her place Samuel, let me go to her,” Bucky said with increasing frustration.

    Sam answered, matching his frustration, “That’s right James. This is the cleanest her entire house has ever been since we’ve known her.”

    Bucky started to take note of everything. Yea, Y/N kept her house clean, but as a creative at heart, her home was always full of corners with her various creations. A knitting project on her couch or books strewn about her reading nook, even leftover flour and stacked sweets from her midnight baking escapades. In all the time they had spent with her, she had always kept some kind of mess nearby to help soothe her restless ever-creating mind. But her home was sterile, something she swore could never be used to describe anything of hers. Bucky could barely smell her scent, mixtures of the natural oils and butters she used on her skin and in her hair that was always magnified in her home.

    Sam locked eyes with Bucky and let his tears go seeing that mirroring tears were welling in Bucky’s eyes.

    Sam, on the edge of sobbing, said, “It’s like she tried to erase herself. I can’t smell anything that makes this place hers.”

    “She did try, but I still smell her. Sam, focus on that. She still smells like a warm hug on a rainy fall day.” Bucky said with a sniffle, “But I gotta say this reminds me a lot of that time when we were on the run, only she’s done it in a completely backwards way.”

    “What do you mean?” Sam asked.

    Bucky said, “Well, I destroyed the fucking place after I almost killed you waking up from a nightmare. I broke everything in that safe house to try and get you all to just leave me to die next to all the broken glass. Away and safe from the monster that should’ve died long ago.”

    “You know Steve could never leave you, especially when you were like that.”

    “And, you?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

    “Now you know that I was a veterans counselor. You got on my nerves but I was never going to leave you to the tortures laid out by a mind that had been manipulated by wars that weren’t yours for literal decades.”

    They hugged it out and shared a look of understanding.

    Bucky broke away, “We gotta breathe some life back into this place, hopefully it’s fully stocked like usual.”

    Sam paused his retrieval of her pots, pans, and bowls when he could only hear the thrum of the refrigerator door open. “What does she have for us to work with?” he asked as he turned to look with Bucky who was stark still with the door hanging openl.

    Sam had never been gladder to have nothing in his hands cause if he did it would be broken on the ground. “There’s nothing?”

    “I’ve been standing here trying to make something appear and I can guarantee she has nothing to eat but condiments and wine.”

    Sam leaned on the island, trying to bring his anger under control, “I am going to break every bone of the fucktard that did this to our honey bun.”

    Bucky closed the door and laid his right hand over top of Sam’s as he leaned over the island and his left on his back, rubbing in small circles.

    “We’ll get to them later, but right now we have to focus on fixing this right here. Focus on what we can control for now and fix that, right? Isn’t that what you always say to your classes?

    Sam let out a deep breath, “yea, that’s what I say. I just…”

    “...I know. But later, remember?”

    Sam sighed, “Okay, later.”


    Y/N groggily woke up to the smell of good cooking. Her bladder was screaming and so was sunrise right into her face. After relieving herself, she made her way downstairs, hiding as best she could from her knights in shining vibranium armor.

    Bucky was working on some brownies and Sam was slicing up some fruit into a bowl, adding it to the brunch spread. Neither looked up from their tasks, but both had known the second she got out of her bed. Bucky however, was the first to address her as he poured in some chocolate and butterscotch chips in the waffle batter.

    “Go sit with Sam babygirl, you’ve lost weight,” he said with a frown.

    Sam looked over his shoulder at Bucky’s assessment, his face instantly fixing itself into a twin frown. He sat down and patted his thigh, usually her favorite seat. His words came out a little rougher than intended in his efforts to mask his emotions, “Sit princess, time to eat.”

    Y/N crossed her arms and mumbled out, “not hungry.” She walked past Bucky instead and put her kettle on. Completely ignoring them she set up her favorite cup and loose leaf tea into one of her reusable bags.

    As soon as she stopped moving to gaze out the kitchen window, Bucky lightly grabbed her elbow with his flesh hand in an effort to guide her towards Sam. “Princess, please go sit with Sam, I’ll bring your tea.”

    She was just shy of flinching when she pulled away from him, but he still noticed. “No. I’ll make myself my tea and go back to my room. You two can finish whatever it was here that you were trying to do, clean, pack it up, and take it home,” and she definitely noticed the twin flashes of pain on his and Sam’s faces, striking her right in the center of her chest. Still, her pride was telling her to get them out of the house yesterday, unwilling to have one of her breakdowns in front of them.

    Sam got up and tried to get closer, “You don’t mean that princess. You’ve just had a bad week is all, right? Just come have breakfast with us and let us make it better,” but she flinched the second he took a step.

    “I do-” she slammed the silverware drawer closed and spun on her heels, “-and I changed my mind. You can just stop and leave now, I’ll clean up.”

    If feelings were knives then Bucky and Sam’s face would’ve been a freshly sharpened chef’s knife, and telling them to leave when all she wanted was to be held, felt like she was watching her chest being opened with one.

    Bucky, with unshed tears in his eyes, became unsure, “Babygirl?”

    Thankfully, Sam was somewhat experienced with the mind and pride of a black woman that was too scared to ask for real help. “Buck?”

    It took a few times before the super soldier could turn his gaze from Y/N and when they locked eyes, it just about knocked the wind out of Sam. “Why don’t you start putting the food from the table away? Colds in the fridge and the rest can stay warm in the oven.” He looked back at Y/N and sighed, “I have a feeling it's going to be a while before any of us eat.”

    “Yes it will, if you’re leaving the food here then you can go now. I don’t fucking care, just leave!” she said, raising her voice and folding her arms defensively.

    The kettle reached its boiling point at that exact moment, adding to the tension in the room.

    While Bucky despondently put the food away, Sam walked into the kitchen, squeezing Bucky’s arm reassuringly as they switched places. Sam took the kettle off the eye and made sure everything was turned off. When he turned to Y/N and saw she hadn’t changed her defensive stance or bad attitude, he matched her and raised his eyebrow.

    Y/N usually fixed her attitude when Sam gave her that look, but today her brat was fully in control. “The hell you looking at? Did I fucking stutter?”

    Bucky gasped and Sam’s shocked face quickly turned lethal.

    “Alright! I’ve had it with this attitude! You don’t want to talk to us? You don’t want us to do the best we can to make you feel better? Fine, but you will not keep insulting us when all we want to do is help!” Sam said as he grabbed one of Y/N’s fists and made her unfold her arms, holding her wrist in his hand.

    Y/N wrenched her arm free with a hard yank. “I’m sick and fucking tired of men telling me how the hell I should look, talk, walk, and fucking feel!” She started out yelling but ended in a sob, “Tired of my value being attached to my body and how good I am at keeping quiet in the face of misogyny. I’m just so damn tired.”

    She curled into a ball on the floor and let the entire week out. Unable to catch her breath she succumbed to a full blown panic attack.

    Bucky and Sam immediately stopped what they were doing and came to her aid. Sam crouched in front of her, grabbing her hands to rub on them soothingly, and Bucky started rubbing her back.

    Sam spoke softly, “Babygirl, I need you to breathe and focus on us. Feel Bucky rubbing circles on your back and my thumbs on your hands. Keep listening to the sound of our voices.”

    Bucky joined in, “Yea, keep listening to Sam. He’s the best person to bring you back to us. Trust me, I know.” He leaned next to her ear, stroking her head. “Can you look at him for me bunny? Please?” he said, his voice cracking on the ‘please’.

    Y/N slowly lifted her tear streaked face and let out a wheezing sob when she locked eyes with Sam.

    “That’s a good girl,” said Sam. “Alright babygirl, I need you to take some deep breathes with me. In for 4, out for 8.”

    Bucky added reassuringly, “You’re doing so good bunny,” still rubbing her back.

    Sam guided her through the breathing exercises and she followed, slowly calming down until she wasn’t hyperventilating anymore and her sobs had quieted to whimpers.

    “Bucky, can you grab some water please?” Sam asked as he stood, scooping Y/N into his arms and heading upstairs.

    Bucky made her a giant glass and started to go behind them but decided to grab some fruit, cheese, and crackers as well. When he was satisfied that he wouldn’t need to come back downstairs anytime soon, he followed them to her bedroom just in time to hear the tail end of her story.

    Hiccuping through her story, Y/N finished with, “I wish I wasn’t born a woman, let alone a black woman with this body. I’m not even allowed to be angry about what I’m subjected to on a daily basis.”

    Bucky put the food items down on her side table as Sam sat back on the headboard with her cradled in his arms. After handing the water to Sam for her to take a few sips and putting it on the side table, Bucky didn’t know what he could do, so he just sat on the edge of the bed and twiddled his thumbs.

    Sam said, “I can’t say I entirely understand, princess, but I have to say I’m really disappointed in you for taking your frustration out on us in such a negative way. We’ve talked about your communication too many times for you not to utilize all of the methods we discussed.”

    Y/N tucked her head into Sam’s neck, finally letting her embarrassment settle in.

    “I didn’t mean it! I just don’t trust myself being this vulnerable with anyone but me. My previous partners always made me feel worse whenever I would let them in.” she said, looking up into Sam’s eyes with fresh tears brimming.

    Sam sighed and swiped them away.

    Y/N looked up at Bucky’s soft words, her heart cracking with each one, “But you didn’t even give us a chance to prove you wrong,” he said, unable to hold back the pain in his voice and his unshed tears from this entire ordeal, “you just, rejected us. Are we that bad at taking care of you?”

    He locked eyes with her shattering the last pieces of her high emotional wall. She quickly climbed into Bucky’s lap and started kissing all over his face. “No no no. I’m so sorry dada. I didn’t mean to hurt you guys. Please make me feel better now.” Holding Bucky’s face in her hands, she looked back at Sam, “You two are the best at taking care of me. I just forget to let you sometimes. Forgive me? Pweaaaaasee?”

    Bucky half smiled, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in, in an effort to quiet all the negative thoughts that had been swirling around his head since their earlier interaction. “I can’t stay mad at you bunny, but I have a feeling that Samster the hamster brain may need some more convincing.”

    They both looked over at him and sure enough he had his retribution face on with his arms folded.

    “Your skills of deduction would be right detective robocop.” Sam replied.

    Y/N giggles at their banter turned to a whimper as she wrapped her arms around Bucky even tighter, squeezing the life out of him if he hadn’t been a super soldier. “Don’t let him get me Buck, I said I was sorry.”

    “Bring me the bratty princess, she needs to learn a few lessons in manners.” Sam said.

    “Bucky stood and moved to hand a squirming Y/N off to Sam, “I’m sorry bunny, but you know I can’t go against him when it comes to discipline. We all agreed that he would be in charge of that since I can't bring myself to really chastise you past words.”

    “But, but, but-”

    “The only butt we’re focusing on here is yours so stop it. You earned this punishment fair and square,” Sam said as he rearranged her body so that her bottom was up, managing to get her sleep dress off in the process.

    Bucky bent down to stroke her head and face as Sam doled out 25 swats with his bare hand. Y/N whined and wiggled the whole way through since Sam did not ease her into it like he usually would. He had a point to make and was intent on making sure it stuck.

    “Bucky, you want your dick warmed up first since babygirl was especially cold to you?” said like a command though it was phrased like a question.

    Bucky and Sam traded places with Bucky clutching Y/N to his front facing an evil smirking Sam. Sam laid down so that he was in front of their private areas and pulled Bucky’s rock hard dick out, swiping his precum with his thumb and sucking it into his mouth and getting him more worked up.

    “Such a good boy for me when I’m commanding you, aren’t you?” Sam said

    Bucky instantly became the sub Y/N rarely got to see, nodding his head at Sam’s praise.

    “Now, go ahead and bury yourself to the hilt, she’s soppin’ wet so you shouldn’t have much trouble.”

    Bucky followed directions, eliciting gut wrenched moans from both himself and Y/N. He started to move a little, too overwhelmed with how snug she felt around him and the pressing need to get the friction he was so desperately craving. He was halted by the quick pop Sam gave his outer thigh, jostling their joined bodies even further.

    “Did I say you could move?” Sam said with a raised eyebrow.

    Bucky whimpered out a weak “no, sir,” and let gravity drag Y/N’s convulsing heat down to the hilt.

    “That’s what I thought.” Sam took off his shirt and finished undressing Bucky, wriggling his pants and boxers all the way off. Finally satisfied with his bare partners, Sam laid back down, getting eye level with their joined sexes. He blew on Y/N’s swollen clit and laughed at her tortured moan and Bucky’s echoing one from her nonstop squeezing.

    Looking up at them both he said, “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m hungry, so I’m gonna eat until I’m satisfied. Bucky, you will stave off your orgasm until I say, but Y/N-” he rubbed on her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to her sex, “-you’re not allowed to cum at all. Anytime you get close Bucky is going to tell me so I can stop and then start the process all over again.”

    #daddy!sam wilson #daddy!bucky #sam x reader x bucky #tfatws #sam wilson x black!reader #bucky x black!reader #poly!sam x poly!bucky #marvel fanfiction
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  • medijolola
    28.10.2021 - 3 hours ago

    Prompt: Helmut Zemo very tragic past

    I’m a sucker for characters with horrendously dark back stories, just a lot of angst and hurt. Where their teammates/coworkers would never even begin to suspect from the character’s general behavior.  

    So prompt:

    Bucky and Sam continue to recruit/enlist Zemo from the raft for missions. As the missions continue they just keep discovering tidbits of Zemos Greek tragedy of a life. Every time they think they've reached the tip of the trauma iceberg, something else comes up, usually in the form of an offhanded comment or in the form of a totally logical explanation of why this behavior is normal (example to hoard food on ones person for x, y, & z; Zemo totally nonchalant). 

    Sam feeling betrayed because he thought Bucky's Depression/WWII/Hydra backstory and his lettuceless lettuce sandwiches were the saddest thing he'd have to deal with in this team-up. 

    Up strolls Zemo with abuse (physical abuse from his father (comics)), dead mother, growing up in a country of civil unrest/civil war, which likely led to famine, drafted at a ridiculously young age (15-16), his first kill taking place not long after, being trained to withstand torture, witnessing the torture and subsequent death of comrades, being torture at the hands of the enemy, the death of his family, the deaths of the EKO scorpion team, end of his country etc. Plus all his suicide attempts, what was it 9? 10? Total if you count suicide attempt via Bucky… not to mention years of solitary confinement... 

    Bucky nodding along too Zemo’s survivalist logic (sees no problem, makes sense) mother Russia, the depression, the war, etc taught many such lessons. 

    Just Zemo’s potential backstory in the MCU seems like it could be a trove of tragedy, beyond what we already know about. 

    So I humbly submit this prompt for your consideration/ discussion. How much tragedy do you suspect lived through Zemo’s, love to hear your logic/ reasoning.

    And how do you think the guys react, I figure Bucky’s first instinct is to, as I mentioned above nod along in agreement.

    --> Sam rolling up his trauma sleeves (did not sign up for this) 

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  • gretavanstyles
    28.10.2021 - 4 hours ago

    bucky barnes 

    [‎✪] coming soon 

    #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine#mcu#mcu imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#tfatws#tfatwsimagines #the winter soldier #the winter soldier imagine
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  • gretavanstyles
    28.10.2021 - 4 hours ago


    [‎✪] bucky barnes

    [‎४] loki 

    [⎊] tony stark

    #mcu#mcu imagine#marvel#marvel imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine#tfatws #the winter soldier #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #the winter soldier imagine #loki#loki imagine#loki oneshot #loki x reader #tony stark #tony stark imagine #iron man #iron man imagine
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  • neverlandsky
    28.10.2021 - 4 hours ago

    im still very grateful they let sam wilson say curse words in tfatws like !!! very in character. very fun.

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  • medijolola
    28.10.2021 - 4 hours ago

    Hurt Sam Wilson

    This is the culmination of a discussion on the discord between myself and @sublimepigeon with input from @sholiofic​​

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  • medijolola
    28.10.2021 - 5 hours ago

    Zemo in FatWS and the Fall of Sokovia May 6th.

    @Shimmerchicken pointed out a really interesting bit of information regarding FatWS’s timeline/dates. Novi Grad fell on May 6th

    I’m curious if anyone has written any fiction addressing Bucky and Sam realizing after the fact that they had Zemo working on the anniversary of his loved ones death.  What triggers the realization, does it change how they view him at all, does anything come of it. If anyone writes this I’d love to read it.

    I just figured I’d add this tidbit to the discussion, since I had no idea as I watched show; it really did affect my view of Zemo behavior throughout the show. 

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  • nexusnyx
    28.10.2021 - 5 hours ago

    Lilac Wine

    — Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Reader — Summary: Bucky lost the love of his life before Thanos snapped his finger. The only issue with the whole ‘moving on’ thing is: there is someone else who can bring her back. There’s somewhere he can go back to being happy in this world, and he isn’t above asking the Scarlet Witch for a place in it. — Word count: 3.6k — Warning(s): Mentions of death, violence, unhealthy coping mechanisms (don't ask to live under a spell just to get your love back, folks), depression, mentions of suicide. — A/n: Requested by this nonnie, who clearly was on crack and wanted to feel something. This is sad. You've been warned :D You can consider supporting me on Ko-Fi, as well. If you enjoy it, feedback is appreciated & highly encouraged and motivates me to write even more.

    ⋅☾ My Masterlist | Join the taglist | Soundtrack ☽⋅


    There was somebody who understood.

    For weeks, all Bucky could think about was the point in all of this ‘being alive’ ordeal, if the world itself was such a bleak and dark place to be in. Without being asked, the universe forced upon us existence and threw us in a giant rock where crazy things happened, people were no longer good to each other and to pop the cherry on the cake, crazy old beings from other planets decided to play god.

    Bucky was tired.

    He had been tired for years, and that ended when he met you at the V.A., but then Thanos happened and for the second time he came back to himself, he was alone and tired.

    Above all, Bucky felt anger. And competing for the first place, in the layer right under anger, was the sea of grief he'd bottled up into a vial.

    All the grief, and all the missing he did daily because of you.

    All of it mixed together in his chest and simmered under his skin like a poisonous and allergic reaction—to what he was yet to discover.

    Everything around him, even the things he had started finding pleasure in or the people he initiated a conversation and eventual friendships with— all of those lost colors.

    When he was young, Bucky watched TV with no colors, then he was kept frozen in a fridge like a thing waiting to be consumed and sometimes, he’d catch the small, sixty inches box the scientists who guarded him used for distraction and they’d sometimes have to slap the little thing for the color to come back.

    Looking around the world now felt like that.

    Like Bucky had to slap the color back to it, except he couldn’t.

    Doing so would require bringing half of the population back — for most people — and even if everyone did return, you’d still be gone.

    He wondered if it was a personal thing.

    It had to be, given how much shit the cosmos had put him through. Him, personally. Bucky Barnes. Branded for Pain— that’s what Bucky pictured was stamped over his forehead: an idiot with code-bars which read “please make my life as miserable as possible! and if you can, keep it interesting!”.

    He found none of this interesting.

    To be fair with himself, he had tried.

    Bucky put in the work when Sam rose to the occasion and started the support groups with Steve. God, Steve. His best friend was as broken, if not more, than he was. Seeing him that way only broke Bucky further, and looking at the person he grew up with while failing to find the similarities between the man standing in front of him now and before…

    It hurt in places of his soul Bucky forgot he had.

    So for months, he tried. Trying looked ugly when you were his age and went through what he did. It looked like beer bottles littered all over his apartment’s floor, stubble so long it could only be called a beard and days without seeing the sun.

    The beard brought in other problems.

    When Bucky catches his own reflection in the mirror and the bearded man looking back at him has bags under his eyes deeper than the feet of snow in front of his building, he flinches away from it.

    Mirrors become an enemy once more.

    It hurts in other tiny spaces of his soul Bucky’s forgotten about, and even more in the places that he’s trying to “get over”.

    The beard is unkempt and uncared for, so it lacks the shine and the sharp look that it evoked reactions from you not a year ago.

    Sometimes, Bucky flinches away from the memories. Most times, he just sinks and drowns in them like a man surrendering to the quicksand.

    “Your beard looks sooooo good.”

    That one is fresh. In that one, Bucky was lying in the same place he is now — his bed — but unlike the pigsty he’s surrounded with, the memory brings him the smell of lavender from his recently-washed sheets back then and the vanilla with berries from your body lotion.

    Bucky’s house smelled of baked goods, wild fruits, good and seasoned food and just a hint of sex during the year and a half when he had you.

    He started recognizing the smell of home in it.

    “I don’t look like a hobo?” The question had been rhetorical, made while he scratched his trimmed beard.

    You shook his head, then propped your chin on his pelvis bone. The twilight sky made your skin glow due to its peachy tones. “You look… sexy.” He loved how you said the word. Bucky smiled, and your grin widened with his reaction. “Like a hot movie star.”

    He laughed out loud. “I could never walk a red carpet.”

    “Hmmm, I don’t know, Buck. I’ve seen your strut on the tv.”

    “Strut? I don’t strut—what even is that?”

    His laughter filled up more rooms of the apartment when you got up from the bed and, in what was supposed to be an imitation of him, started walking with purpose around his bedroom.

    You moved your shoulders a lot, and stared ahead with the biggest frown he’d seen on your pretty forehead so far.

    He saw it— that was definitely a strut.

    “Okay, okay! You’ve made your point. I’ve got swag,” he joked, finishing with a shit-eating grin.

    You dropped your body on the bed right next to his, and rolled your eyes dramatically. “Why do I indulge in blowing up your ridiculously big ego?”

    “Awn, don’t be mean, pretty. You know I love it when you talk about me, ‘s all.”

    “Don’t do that!”

    Bucky laughed harder. “What am I doing?”

    “The cute pout thing! You know you look like a puppy when you do that— I can’t take it.”

    “Even with the beard?”

    “The beard makes it dangerously sexy, yes.”

    You were indulging him, back then.

    Hearing from your lips that he was beautiful, or sexy, or fun, all those things sounded better and more special coming from someone who knew exactly what he was and still loved him entirely. Not despite all of it, not because of all of it, but with it.

    Simply love.

    “What does a sexy man have to do to get a kiss around here?”

    “Ask nicely.”

    “Baby… please come up here… I’m dyin’ for a kiss.”

    “So dramatic… c’mere.”

    With difficulty, Bucky pulls back from the memory before it becomes too much.

    Remembering you is sweet and necessary. If he’s honest with himself, it’s the only thing standing between Bucky and a vibranium bullet to the skull, but it’s also a tricky and treacherous river.

    It can escalate from a momentary blink of happiness in his miserable days to what resembles the weight of a final nail in a coffin at a concerning speed.

    He leaves your precious kisses in his memory-box and puts the lid on before something else slips out of him.

    Bucky goes to sleep in satin sheets that no longer smell like you, even though he tried clinging onto those.

    The missed calls from Sam continue to pile up on his phone, which keeps ringing throughout the night.


    When he came back after the limbo he was stuck in, Bucky had told himself and then Steve that he would try it. That promise was kept— on his end, at least, Bucky thinks it was.

    Then, Steve becomes someone else. He becomes the type of person who leaves a fellow man behind and escapes to another reality, and that’s when Bucky ceases trying to begin with.

    Sam’s calls are the hardest to ignore.

    Sam met you when he traveled to Wakanda with Steve, and he’d overheard Bucky’s conversation with you where the topic of moving out of the city was discussed.

    “So what you’re saying is… you’re saying that if I went back— if I went back to Brooklyn and found myself an apartment after all this crap, and I moved there to live in peace. You’re telling me you’d go with me?”

    “Of course I’d go with you, silly. I lived here all my life and this has been home, but I could experience other things. Plus—I meant what I said, okay? I’m with you. Ride or die, isn’t that how you say it in America?”

    “It is, yeah.”

    “Yup. That’s us. Ride or die. You said I’m everything you ever dreamt of. You can’t get rid of me that easily after that, Sargeant.”

    “God— you’re so. I don’t even have words?”

    “Say you’ll find us an apartment that I can fit a small lab in and you’ll have my eternal gratitude.”

    “Baby— I’ll literally work five to ten to afford you a penthouse if I haf’to.”

    “Cool. That’s good.”

    “So we’re doing this?”

    “Yup. Just gotta battle it out one last time.”

    “It’s been a while since I’ve looked forward to a battle.”

    “You just want what’s at the end of it— I know you’re dreaming about waking up with the smell of my pancakes.”

    “You got me there. I love you but woah… your pancakes are the dream.”

    If Bucky had seen Y/n falling in battle before the goddamn finger snapped, his knees would’ve lost their strength and his own demise would’ve come through the blades of one of the enemies.

    That scenario often came to mind.

    More often than not, Bucky wished he had seen. If he did, he too would’ve been before the snap.

    If he’d seen it, he wouldn’t have to return without you.

    The existence of a God never crossed Bucky’s mind, ever since he was a boy, but god did he pray for things to go differently.

    Why me, God? Why not me and her? She didn’t deserve this. She deserved better.

    It should’ve been me.

    None of those thoughts brought her back.

    After months of trying, none of his prayers or self-hatred would bring her back, and that’s the seed of the thought that infects Bucky for the next few weeks.

    What if he could? What if bringing you back was an option?

    Bucky knew the answer to those questions. He knew that if there was a way, he’d dive in, head first.

    He must project his thoughts so loud to the universe that it gives him an out.

    That’s all it could be— Sam’s phone calls have been ignored ever since Bucky came back and there was no reason why this one would’ve been different than the others, but after days without showering and thinking about all the things he would do to bring you back, Bucky is sitting with heavy and swollen eyes on his bedroom when the phone pings and he reads Sam’s message on the cracked screen.

    There’s a situation happening… I could really use your help. It’s serious.

    The message hypnotizes him. Bucky reads it over and over again until the screen fades to black again and there’s a little spark inside of him saying he should go. As a service to Sam being so good and not leaving him behind—he could do this one last thing for him.

    It was only right.

    It’s with those thoughts that he gets ready. Bucky showers for the first time in more than a week, trims his beard just in case Nick Fury is around, puts on the last clean clothes he can find and heads to the address Sam sent.

    His arrival comes as a clear surprise, but the real gift comes in later that evening in the meeting Rambeau is conducting.

    Bucky can barely look away from the files.

    The situation is simple: there was somebody who understood.

    He can barely feel the ground underneath him.

    Everything zooms into these files, and Bucky swallows them down like the last meal. Wanda Maximoff understands what he’s going through, and Bucky pretends to listen to the rest of what people say, pretends he cares about the outcome of his mission and when he’s home, pretends there’s something to think about regarding all of this.

    He pretends while cleaning his apartment, while boxing everything he owns into boxes, while packing his bags.

    When the apartment is bare and everything is inside something, Bucky stops pretending.

    There’s someone who understands what he’s going through, and the choice was made when Bucky read in the file ‘coping mechanism to disassociate from the loss of a loved one’.

    If Wanda can create a reality where her peace and love still exists, Bucky applauds her.

    And he isn’t above asking for a place in it.


    It takes only three hours of Bucky standing in front of the barrier Wanda created around Westview before she shows up.

    He’s sitting with crossed legs and a duffel bag over his shoulder, his gaze fixed on his hands and his head miles away, buried in the way you laughed.

    When she walks through the magical wall, Bucky’s eyes snap up.

    “Are you here alone?” Are the first words Wanda Maximoff speaks to him.

    Bucky’s never been in the presence of pure, raw power before, and the experience leaves him with tingles all over his body. Her eyes flashed red the second she crossed the threshold and he wondered if it was a side-effect of the veil she lifted, but he realizes it when her chin lifts up and the moonlight shines into her brown orbs that it's just her.

    Your voice speaks in his brain. Everyone’s darkest and best selves are revealed under the light of the moon. Did ya know that, baby?

    Now he saw it.

    He nods to her, swallowing the lump of intimidation on his throat. It’d been a while since he was face to face with someone who could actually defeat him without lifting a finger, and he needs a couple of seconds to regroup. “I am.”

    Her expression remains flat and uninterested. “Did someone send you?”

    Bucky shakes his head at that. Sam had no idea of where he was and Bucky’s only means of contact was now at the bottom of a river.

    Knowing of her powers, Bucky takes a leap of faith.

    You always said timing your leaps was the key to life. You gotta know when to jump, Sarge.

    “I know you don’t know me, but I have something to ask of you.”

    Those words get Wanda’s attention. One of her eyebrows lifts and her mouth leaves the state of the thin annoyed line it was since she made her appearance. “I’m listening.”

    Bucky gets up, making sure to measure his movements so she’s aware he’s no threat. He stops a couple of feet in front of her, then takes a deep breath.

    “Could you look in my head?”

    Wanda’s head tilts back, confused and definitely a little suspicious. “Why?”

    “‘Cause it’ll be easier than explaining.”

    Wanda narrows her eyes, but finds no lies in his eyes or words because there are none. Bucky thought of several ways he could approach this and while he sat and waited for her, compiling a series of linear thoughts which explained how he ended up on her metaphorical doorstep like a stray dog was easy.

    Red shines in front of him and he feels the red before he sees it.

    There’s a brush of something on Bucky’s mind.

    He thought too about what it would feel like to have somebody reading his mind, but there’s no pain. It resembles the feeling of someone’s hand hovering millimeters away from your skin, close enough to raise goosebumps, but not enough to touch. He feels Wanda like brushing his mind and capturing what he compiled for her, and then she’s gone, feeling as empty and alone as when he first arrived.

    She gasps when the red leaves her eyes, and it’s a shaky one. “You…” Wanda trails off, and Bucky swallows the expectations down. “You want to enter. Fully enter Westview.”

    Yes. The word apparently gets stuck on his throat, so Bucky nods.

    “Are you… are you sure?” Wanda asks.


    There’s a moment of silence and Bucky fears all the scenarios which could follow if she rejected his request, but they all fade into smoke when she takes a step to the side, like she’s opening the door to her house to him.

    Bucky is the one to gasp this time, because while the opportunity sounded real, it didn’t feel real until now.

    “Are you serious?” He breathes out.

    “I’ll need a moment to access your memories of you and her together so I can find her essence through the layers of… everything. And then you can enter.”

    Bucky nods enthusiastically, because that is the easiest thing possible.

    He closes his eyes and embraces the intrusive feeling of Wanda’s power ghosting over his brain, and finally surrenders himself to the memories he’s been running away from for what it feels like forever.

    Y/n flashes in his eyelids in beautiful, sad, heartbreaking moments. Wakanda was where Bucky found peace, but it was through you, not the place.

    You’d brought him peace.

    When Wanda’s ghost is out of his mind, she nods in the direction of Westview and Bucky steps over the electric-looking veil with confidence. He expects nothing, thinks of nothing and to his utmost delight, the only feeling that washes over him is… watery.

    Bucky steps inside the town and it’s like his head is being placed under the shower stream after a long day of hard work.



    Washing away all the bad…

    What was the bad?

    Bucky has no idea. All he knows is that he left town to get… something. But he came back without it. What did he need?


    The voice by his side snaps him back to the present, and Bucky has to shake his head.

    That’s Wanda.

    His neighbor… Vision’s wife. She had kids just last week. “Hey.” His voice sounds hoarse.

    Y/n will be unhappy that he’s kept so quiet during his mission. She always talks about how he comes back with a smoker’s sexy tone because he refuses to talk like a human being during missions.

    Wanda smiles at him and it’s a little sad, but Bucky knows how tired mothers get on the first weeks and dismisses the thought of sadness in her. Wanda’s always smiling. “Y/n told me to come get you,” she tells him.

    Right! He’d left for a mission, but now he was home.

    “That’s so kind of her,” he breathes out, feeling choked up for some reason.

    Why is his baby so nice? God, Bucky misses her so much. He misses her like he hasn’t seen her in forever and that’s never a good thing. Y/n is his heaven on earth, and just like T’Challa said, if there was a person who deserved a little safe haven on this floating rock, it was him.

    “D’you think she could look after my boys this week again?” Wanda asks him, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

    He’d have to ask her, and he can’t imagine a day where Y/n would say no to a request like that. “Yeah, sure,” he laughs, feeling the same knot as before climbing up. The more he walks, the more Bucky wants to cry.

    He just missed his baby so much.

    “Cool. Thanks, Barnes,” she says.

    “Of course.”

    Wanda makes more small talk with Bucky about some of the residents and he pretends to pay attention to it, like he often does.

    You’re always frowning at them! They’ll think you’re a grumpy neighbor— smile, baby. You’ve got such a pretty smile, Buck…

    Was that… was it you?

    It was. The voice was yours, and the memory looks foggy, but he remembers you telling him that.

    You were right. Wanda was a nice neighbor. He tries smiling wider at her when she leaves him at his doorstep and it comes out so genuine that Bucky wonders why it feels like he hasn’t smiled in months.

    Then, the door to his home opens and all those silly concerns fly out of the window.

    There’s your frame on the door.

    If Bucky was a better man, he’d smile like a stud from the old movies and strut his way to you, welcoming you into his arms.

    But Bucky’s only Bucky, and he knows that if he doesn’t feel your warmth immediately he’ll crumble into thousands of pieces, so he runs.

    Bucky runs to the door and he’s welcomed by the sound of you laughing at him, so pleased and amused. You’re the one who opens your arms to welcome him, and when you close them around his shoulders, Bucky feels the sobs ripping through his next breath.

    He breathes in your scent and it feels like the first genuine breath he’s taken since he gained his mind back.


    He doesn’t know why he’s crying, but it feels like it’s over how much he missed you.

    Then, you giggle in his ear and says, “Hi, baby. I missed you too.”

    Bucky’s sobs all evaporate and what comes out next is a choked laughter. You missed him, but that was okay, ‘cause Bucky was here. Of course he was here.

    He belonged next to his baby and through every mission, he’d find his way back.

    Where else would he be? Somewhere you’re not?

    “I’m here, baby.” He’s by your side now. He’s in your arms, and you’re kissing his temple like you always do when you say hello, and Bucky is at peace again. “I’m here.”

    He’s here, because there’s no other place he’d rather be.

    “I know, love.” Your voice feels like honey dripping all over his skin, and Bucky can barely open his eyes. Your next kiss to his temple feels like a kiss on an open wound, and Bucky smiles with water in his eyes.

    He’s here, because being somewhere you’re not is never going to happen.

    He’s found his peace, and that’s where Bucky will stay.

    Taglist pt. One ☆ @undiadeestos ; @keepingitlokiii ; @hallecarey1 ; @mardema ; @mollygetssherlockcoffee ; @fanofalltheficsx ; @justlovelifeblog ; @fallenoutofrose ; @rvgrsbrns ; @tripletstephaniescp ; @mal-edictions ; @rippl3s ; @barnesafterglow ; @vintagepigeon ; @dirtyweenerking ; @couldabeenamermaid ; @winter-soldier-sebstan ; @leyannrae ; @nerdwholikesword ; @andreead ; @ren-ni ; @pastamomma ; @fairytalebucky ; @natyvwe ; @murdermornings ;
    Part Two ❥ ; @bvckysmoon ; @buttybarnes1917 ; @rebekahdawkins ; @tylard-blog1 ; @xbeauxny ; @redirection04 ; @thatblondebrownie ; @carrotfantasimp ; @teenagedreams-bucky ; @buckyxplumsss ; @sltwins ; ; @spiderdudetom ; @mrsbarnesinmyimagination ; @pineprincess ; @cpag7 ; @iambeeee ; @agni-l ; @sstan-hoe ; @hawsx3 ; @weirdowithnobeardo ; @hdbngsprnva ; @itsdawnashlie ; @sweetdreamsbuck ; @slutforsteve ; @itsmedramaqu33n ;
    #usernexusnyx#bucky barnes#bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky angst#bucky fic #bucky barnes angst #tfatws!bucky #requested
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  • natbarnes1917
    28.10.2021 - 6 hours ago

    The Gang Joins A Cult

    Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo

    18+ Only.

    Happy spooky season! As the title hints, this story idea was conceived while watching an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (Season 5 episode 4) and as always, once I started writing it took on a life of its own. This story is my first attempt at m/m smut, limited 3rd person pov, and suspense/horror so I hope you enjoy it and please comment/reblog if you do!

    Happy Halloween! 🎃

    Word count: 7646

    Summary: Bucky is in love and while Sam's scary movie marathons don't scare him, admitting his feelings to the intimidating Baron Zemo terrifies him. Unbeknownst to Bucky, Zemo returns his feelings but is equally as scared and stubborn. While immersed in their game of chicken, the pair ends up at high society Halloween sex party and things get creepy fast.

    Need to know: Angst, fluff, and smut. Horror? Weird things happen. Anal and oral m/m sex. Not a dom/sub relationship but Bucky is more dominate. Edging, begging, a slight daddy kink...Bucky and Zemo trying to be more annoying than the other. A dash of violence for fun.

    Please do not copy or post this anywhere.

    Cross posted on AO3.

    “The house is not haunted; you’re just hearing things.” Bucky had argued with Sam about this for the past 3 weeks.

    We’ve been in Zemo’s house for months now, and suddenly it’s haunted. Yeah, right.

    “It could very well be haunted,” Zemo said matter of factly as he sipped his tea, “I’m sure many great relatives passed here.”

    “I told you!” Sam shouted at Bucky as he left them alone in the living room to go to the kitchen.

    The house was old; there were all kinds of sounds throughout the day and night, none of which bothered Bucky in the slightest.

    What was bothering Bucky was Helmut Zemo. Not only was he egging Sam on about the supposed haunted house, but he was also a huge pain in Bucky’s ass. Not for his usual mischief; no, Bucky was used to that by now. Their relationship had evolved, and currently, Bucky was glaring at Zemo from the other room as he whispered to Sam about a date he might go on later that evening.

    As if. No one is good enough for your highness, Baron Zemo.

    Bucky quickly looked away as Zemo caught his gaze, an annoying smirk on his lips.

    Bucky had been playing this game with Zemo for a long time now. He found the man utterly stunning, and he knew Zemo was attracted to him too (Bucky had found himself in heated makeout sessions with Zemo more than once). But they were both too stubborn to do anything about it. Bucky assumed Zemo wouldn’t want anything more from him than sex, and he was terrified to admit the serious feelings he was starting to develop for the Baron.

    Better to push it deep, deep down.

    Unbeknownst to Bucky, Zemo felt the same way and just wanted Bucky to admit it first.

    They danced around each other like cat and more stubborn cat.

    Bucky suspected that Zemo wanted more out of their—more frequent—makeout sessions. He also suspected that Zemo was trying to make him jealous to get what he wanted. But he was just as patient as the former Colonel; he wasn’t going to give an inch.


    Bucky patiently waited for Zemo to back out of his date; he just knew Zemo would come up with a flimsy excuse to stay home instead.

    He’s just trying to get a rise out of me as usual. Right?

    To Bucky’s annoyance, Zemo wasn’t dropping it. He asked Bucky to help him pick an outfit, making a show of changing in front of him. Bucky kept a laser focus on his cellphone, not actually seeing anything on the screen as he scrolled.

    Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

    Finally, Zemo muttered something under his breath and slammed the bathroom door loud enough to make Bucky look up from his phone. Bucky smirked; he was getting under the Baron’s skin after all.

    I give him 10 more minutes before he backs out of this stupid date.

    Bucky went back to the living room and waited; his jaw tightened when Zemo came out of his bedroom, dressed to the nines and smelling divine. His hair was perfectly swept out of his eyes, and worst, he looked excited.

    “Something the matter, James?” Zemo asked as he straightened his tie in the hallway mirror.

    Bucky grimaced.


    “Nope. Enjoy your date,” Bucky said as nonchalantly as possible before disappearing into his room.

    He opened the dating app that Sam had downloaded onto his phone and scrolled through the many unread messages he had received. He just needed a distraction—someone that would make him forget Helmut Zemo even existed.

    After scrolling through a dozen profile pictures that didn’t even contain the person’s face, he quickly gave up on that idea.

    Okay, maybe that’s asking too much.

    He opened a chat with the one person who had their face in their profile picture, though it was partially covered by a crimson masquerade mask. The man had sent Bucky 30 unread messages in the past day asking a series of odd questions and giving unsettling compliments. He looked like he was in his 20s, and Bucky figured he was harmless. He ignored the messages as usual and thought about deleting the app for probably the hundredth time since Sam had downloaded it.

    Bucky came back out of the room, expecting Zemo to be gone. He smirked when he found Zemo still in the hall, staring at his door.

    “You’re still here? Did you get stood up?” Bucky didn’t even try to sound genuine; he smiled through every word.

    Zemo glared at him, “No, I’m just leaving now. Don’t wait up.”

    Zemo slammed the door behind him, and Bucky cursed under his breath.

    “Was that Zemo leaving? Man, I wanted to see who his date was.” Sam pouted as he came downstairs.

    “Why? I’m sure he’s not much to look at.”

    “Someone’s jealous,” Sam teased.

    “For the millionth time, it’s not like that, okay?”

    “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.”

    Sam laughed as he sat next to Bucky on the couch. “Scary movie?”

    “Okay, but please, no teenage slasher nonsense.”

    “Fine, how about something paranormal?”

    Bucky shrugged, “whatever.”

    Sam put on the movie, and Bucky zoned out; all he could think about was what Zemo was doing on his date.

    Who is he with? It’s probably somebody of importance, maybe even someone famous. And who was I kidding—they are bound to be hot. Zemo wouldn’t settle for less.

    When will he be home? What if he doesn’t even come home?

    Would he have the audacity to bring the date back with him?


    Sam jumped when the door suddenly banged open and closed. Bucky barely moved but perked up when he saw Zemo was back and alone.

    “Holy shit, man, you can’t scare me like that!” Sam yelled, holding his chest where his heart was beating rapidly.

    “My apologies,” Zemo answered shortly before going to his room.

    Bucky checked his watch; it had barely been an hour.

    What’s he doing home already?

    Bucky was itching to get up and talk to him, but he tried to play it cool, pretending like he didn’t care. But he didn’t hear another word from the movie.

    When Zemo finally came out of his room, wearing the pajamas that Bucky liked—the black and white plaid bottoms that hugged his ass just right, and a plain white t-shirt that fit snugly around his broad chest—Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. He followed Zemo into the kitchen and watched him pour a large glass of scotch.

    “That bad, huh?” Bucky leaned against the counter across from him.

    “It wasn’t great.” Zemo downed his drink and then poured another.

    “Do you want to talk about it?”

    Zemo rolled his eyes. “You’re really quite insufferable, do you know that?”

    Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, “I’m just trying to be nice.”

    Zemo swallowed the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass onto the counter with a short laugh. “Are you purposefully trying to toy with me, or are you really that blind?”

    “Helmut, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

    Bucky watched Zemo stiffen just slightly, and for a second, he thought Zemo might hit him. But then he saw the change. Zemo’s features softened, and Bucky had never seen him look so vulnerable, so...needy. Bucky didn’t think about it; he just took a step forward and placed a gentle kiss on Zemo’s lips. Zemo exhaled sharply but didn’t move away, so Bucky kissed him again, pushing him firmly into the kitchen island.

    “I’m not trying to toy with you, I just—I don’t know how to do this. Not with you,” Bucky whispered.

    “I didn’t have a date tonight. I just drove around being angry at you for an hour.”

    “What?” Bucky laughed.

    “I was just trying to get you to make a move,” Zemo’s voice was thick as Bucky continued to press light kisses to his lips. “What changed?”

    Bucky’s hands roamed over Zemo’s body as he kissed him again, settling on his ass. “The pajamas may have had something to do with it,” Bucky teased.

    “Are you serious?” Zemo scoffed. “I was wearing a Prada suit earlier.”

    “Yeah? Is that supposed to impress me?”

    Zemo forced Bucky back until his back hit the refrigerator; Bucky reveled in the feeling of Zemo’s hands moving slowly under his shirt, over his abs, and up to his chest.

    He knew Zemo wanted more than this, but he could already feel himself starting to get nervous. He wanted Zemo so bad it hurt, but things were already so complicated.

    What if my feelings get more intense?

    Bucky grunted as Zemo’s hand moved over the already prominent bulge in his jeans.

    I’m barely keeping it together as it is. Fuck.

    Bucky unconsciously slowed down his kisses, making Zemo sigh.

    “James, I can’t do this with you if you don’t want me. I need more than this.”

    Bucky stared at him for a minute, panic flicking in his eyes. “What do you mean if I don’t want you?”

    Maybe he does want something more serious.

    No, he’s rolling his eyes.

    “I’m not asking you to marry me, James. I meant if you didn’t want me, sexually.”

    “Oh,” Bucky blushed, “well, I do. But I—it’s been a while; I don’t want to disappoint you.”

    More like it’s been a while, and I’m afraid I’ll fall even more in love with you.

    Zemo placed a hand on Bucky’s face. “That’s okay; I’ll be gentle.”

    The wicked smirk that made Bucky weak in the knees was back on Zemo’s face, and all he could do was nod his agreement.

    Zemo led him by the hand through the living room. “Good night, Sam.”

    “Good night, where’s...Bucky... never mind.” Sam shot Bucky a wink before he disappeared into Zemo’s room.


    Bucky was barely controlling himself. With every harsh thrust of his hips against Zemo’s, he felt what little control he had slipping. Every moan that left Zemo’s kiss-bruised lips stroked his ego. He could feel Zemo’s legs starting to shake, but his vibranium arm held Zemo up easily.

    Not so cocky now, is he?

    He switched the angle of his thrusts, causing Zemo to shout his name. Bucky chuckled in Zemo’s ear. “You like it right there, doll?”

    He knew Zemo thought he would be in charge, but as soon as the bedroom door had shut, Bucky had made it clear to Zemo who he was dealing with; he practically threw Zemo onto the bed. He ordered Zemo to strip, and when Zemo hesitated, thrown off by Bucky’s domineering personality, Bucky clicked his tongue at him condescendingly. “I thought you wanted this?”

    “I do,” Zemo nodded.

    Bucky took a few steps toward the bed until he was standing between Zemo’s legs. He ran his hand through Zemo’s hair, messing it up on purpose, before leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Are you going to be a good boy and do what I say, or am I going to have to punish you?”

    He watched Zemo’s face drop in surprise as he bit back a moan. He couldn’t help but smirk as Zemo ripped his clothes off and captured Bucky’s lips once again.

    “That’s better,” Bucky praised, his breath hot against Zemo’s neck.

    Bucky slowly slid his belt off; Zemo didn’t seem to notice, too lost in the feeling of Bucky’s tongue on his skin, until the leather was wrapped tightly around his wrists.

    “What are you doing?” Zemo huffed as Bucky laid him back on the bed, his arms stretched out over his head.

    Bucky shushed him, “quit trying to be in control. I can feel you throbbing against my thigh. You want this. You like it. Don’t you?”

    Zemo nodded, lifting his hips off the bed as Bucky moved his warm thigh away. Zemo pouted at the loss of contact.

    “What’s the matter?” Bucky mocked as he sat up and peeled his shirt off.

    Zemo stubbornly kept his mouth shut, which only amused Bucky even more. He wanted to break through Zemo’s well-constructed walls, wanted to see him be submissive and pliant only for him, only in this private moment, his mask finally gone. If Zemo was going to make it difficult, Bucky would enjoy every second of getting him there.

    Bucky gently pressed his lips to Zemo’s navel; he could feel the sharp intake of breath Zemo took. His lips trailed up to Zemo’s chest, over his neck, and up to his ear.

    “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

    “My safeword is Mr. America.”

    Bucky stifled a laugh, “Okay, you little shit.” He kissed him again while he tried to think of an equally obnoxious safe word. He grinned against Zemo’s lips. He remembered the look on Zemo’s face after an exceptionally well-timed jump-scare in the scary movie they had watched a few days prior.

    “Then mine is Ghostface.” Bucky paused, a teasing smile on his lips, to enjoy the annoyance on Zemo’s face.

    Before he could start arguing about how he hadn’t actually been scared, Bucky leaned back down to his ear. “Now, I asked you a question.” Bucky’s vibranium hand followed the same path his lips had just taken until it wrapped lightly around Zemo’s throat. “I said, you like it, don’t you?”

    Zemo’s eyes fluttered closed as Bucky’s hand slowly closed around his neck. “Fuck, yes! I like it.”

    “Then beg.”

    Zemo’s eyes snapped open and met Bucky’s; he froze, his mouth moving with no sound before it settled into a thin, determined line.

    Bucky smirked, “that’s okay, I’ll make you.”

    Bucky worked his lips back down Zemo’s chest, spending extra time at each place that elicited a verbal response. He cruelly let Zemo think he had won, wrapping his lips around Zemo’s thick cock. He let Zemo rock his hips into his mouth, taking him as deep as possible. Bucky’s eyes opened to watch him; his head was thrown back, his hands clenched tightly together. Bucky felt a slight stutter in his thrusts, and Zemo’s language switched from mumbled English to unrecognizable Russian.

    Oh. He’s close. What a convenient tell.

    Bucky tightened his grip on Zemo’s thighs and slid his mouth down again until Zemo’s tip was brushing against the back of his throat. He did it twice before he pulled his mouth off completely and smirked at Zemo humping the air, his cock twitching and angry.

    Zemo sat up, furious. “What the hell, James?!”

    “I told you to beg.”

    And Zemo did. He begged until Bucky finally gave in and slid his perfect cock inside of him. That led to Bucky fucking him on the bed, on the floor, and currently against the wall.

    Bucky slowed down his thrusts, waiting for Zemo to answer him properly. “I said, do you like it right there?”

    “Please, don’t stop!”

    “You close, doll?”

    Zemo scoffed, the sound coming out almost hysterically. Bucky knew it was a ridiculous question; they had both been close for what felt like hours.

    “Yeah, you’re close. Can’t even answer me, can you?”

    Bucky snapped his hips roughly, hitting that special spot again, and Zemo cried out.

    “Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” Zemo whispered as Bucky’s thrusts sped up again.

    Bucky wrapped his hand around Zemo’s throbbing cock, eliciting a desperate whine from the man.

    “Fuck, you like that? Like when daddy’s cock hits right there?” Bucky roughly thrust into Zemo after each word.

    Zemo whimpered again as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

    “Sound so pretty fucked out for me, doll.” Bucky sped his hand up to match his thrusts. “Come with me,” he growled in Zemo’s ear.

    Zemo threw his head back onto Bucky’s shoulder with a scream as he finally came. Bucky pressed him flat against the wall as his thrusts became erratic. “So good, so good for me—shit. Gonna fill up this tight little ass.” Bucky groaned as Zemo rocked his hips back.


    “Fuck!” Bucky nearly punched through the wall as he pressed himself as close to Zemo as possible, his orgasm making his legs shake.

    The pet name had sounded hesitant, but it had been enough to break Bucky’s control. He couldn’t believe Zemo had actually said it, and he couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling in his chest.

    “What’s so funny?” Zemo asked, still out of breath.

    “I can’t believe I just got the all-powerful Baron Helmut Zemo to call me daddy.”

    Zemo’s cheeks immediately turned red, and he tried to move away from Bucky’s body that was still pressed into him.

    “Hey, I’m not laughing at you; it was hot as hell. I’m just surprised, is all.” Bucky turned Zemo around and kissed him gently.

    “It’s not fair. You—you give off a much different vibe outside of the bedroom. I was blindsided, and now I can’t feel my legs.”

    Bucky smiled against Zemo’s lips. “Good thing I’m a super soldier, and I can carry you to the shower.”

    Zemo rolled his eyes. “Only this one time, and you better not breathe a word of this to Sam.”

    “I swear,” Bucky said as he scooped Zemo up and carried him to the large shower in the master bathroom.

    “I think I’d prefer a bath if you don’t mind?”

    “Of course not.” Bucky sat Zemo down and started the water in the bathtub.

    Once Zemo was comfortably under the bubbles, Bucky started to leave.

    “Where are you going?” Zemo twisted around in the tub to question him.

    “Back to my room.”

    “Oh. Okay.” Zemo turned back around and sank back under the water.

    Bucky was trying to protect himself, trying to separate his feelings from the sex. He needed to leave before it was too late. But, he couldn’t help but feel like an ass when he heard the disappointment in Zemo’s voice. He quickly got dressed and peeked back into the bathroom.

    “Hey, Helmut?”

    “Yes?” Zemo turned back around, his face hopeful for a second before he saw Bucky was fully clothed.

    “It was—it was good.”


    Bucky nodded. “Goodnight.”

    Zemo didn’t answer; he turned back around before Bucky left and sank back under the bubbles.


    “I’m telling you, man, this house is haunted. You didn’t hear all of that noise last night? I swear I heard footsteps upstairs.” Sam handed Bucky a cup of coffee as he joined him at the kitchen table.

    “I sleep like a rock. You need to stop watching scary movies.” Bucky tried to hint to Sam that he didn’t want to talk, scrolling through the news on his phone rather than making eye contact.

    Sam didn’t take the hint. “What are you looking at? Texting Zemo?”

    Bucky ignored the mention of Zemo’s name and showed Sam the news story he had been reading. “A young woman went missing a few days ago, she lived near here, and her parents are saying she got wrapped up in some kind of cult.”

    That distracted Sam for a moment, his face morose as he read the story, no doubt thinking about how they could help. That was until Bucky’s phone vibrated with a message from his masked dating app hopeful.

    “Who is this?” Sam asked as he handed the phone back to Bucky.

    Bucky glanced at the message before locking his phone. “No one.”

    “Seemed like an odd message…he wants you to send pics for him to show to his friends?”

    Bucky rolled his eyes and finished his coffee. “It’s nothing. It’s just some guy who doesn’t give up.”

    Sam raised an eyebrow in question.

    “I haven’t responded to any of his messages, but he keeps texting me. Nothing too weird, complimenting my physique, wanting to show me off to his friends. Lately, he keeps inviting me to a Halloween party. If he didn’t give me the creeps, I would consider going.”

    “Are you serious?” Sam unconsciously looked at Zemo’s closed bedroom door.

    “Don’t do that,” Bucky huffed.

    “I was just surprised to find you in your own bed, is all...after last night…” Sam was hinting around the real questions he wanted to ask.

    “It was just sex,” Bucky mumbled.

    “Oh, so you’re telling me that you, Mr. 1940s, are just suddenly into casual sex?”

    “Yeah, I am,” Bucky said defensively. “Zemo was great, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up other men.”

    “Please! What other men? The creep asking for pictures of you?”

    “Other, other men! I have so many messages I can’t keep up.”

    “Whatever, man, do what makes you happy.”

    Bucky was about to reply when Zemo’s door opened, and he strode into the kitchen without saying a word.

    Shit, how much of that did he hear?

    Zemo made a cup of coffee and sat between Bucky and Sam. “So, did you two hear all of that noise last night too?”

    “Yes!” Sam yelled animatedly. “This place is haunted; I swear to God, if some poltergeist shit starts happening, I will leave you two here without a second thought.”

    “That’s our Captain America, ladies, and gents,” Bucky joked as he slapped Sam on the back.


    Bucky sat in the living room with Zemo and Sam, trying not to stare at Zemo as he read his book on the other end of the couch. It wasn’t fair that he looked so perfect all the time. Even now, in sweats and a hoodie, he looked delectable. Bucky bit his lip when Zemo craned his neck to look at the tv behind him, unintentionally showcasing the bruises Bucky had left behind.

    At that moment, Bucky wanted nothing more than to move closer to him, to let Zemo lay his head on his lap until he fell asleep. But he couldn’t. Bucky didn’t take Zemo to be the type of guy that would return his feelings. He only wanted the sex, and that was fine with Bucky...he would be fine with it. He just needed to get his emotions under control.


    Bucky snapped back to reality, almost pitifully fast, as Zemo called his name. “Yes?”

    “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Sam this morning.”

    “What about it?”

    “I just didn’t realize you were so...carefree. I wouldn’t have thought you would be into casual sex with strangers.”

    Bucky faltered, his cheeks blushing.

    So we’re back to this game.

    Okay, Zemo.


    “Not in the slightest,” Zemo forced a laugh.

    Sam rolled his eyes. “Jesus, you two have become unbearable. I cannot wait to get out of here this weekend.”

    “Wait, you’re leaving?” Bucky asked.

    “Yeah, I told you, I’m going home to spend Halloween with my nephews.”

    “Ah yes, Halloween.” Zemo smiled, making Bucky feel uneasy. “You know, James, since I now know how adventurous you are, I have an idea of how we could spend the holiday.”

    Bucky looked at him warily. “How?”

    “A party. I haven’t been in ages, but a friend of a friend always hosts a magnificent masquerade party on Halloween.”

    “What’s the catch?”

    Zemo smirked. “Well, the whole point is that everyone’s identity is hidden. I wouldn’t call it an orgy, but there is definitely an anything-goes vibe.”

    Bucky tried to hide his surprise, he knew Zemo was trying to call his bluff, and he wasn’t going to give in.

    “Sounds fun. Let’s do it. Maybe we’ll both get laid.” Bucky winked at him before he got off the couch and sauntered off.


    Bucky fiddled with the black and white rhinestone masquerade mask that covered half of his face as he followed Zemo up the front steps of an old decrypt house out in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t like it. It was ghostly quiet, and the house had not been at all what he was expecting.

    “Zemo, where the hell are we? This does not look like a place that hosts high society sex parties.”

    Zemo turned over his shoulder before knocking on the door. “Relax. Do you really think people would have what is basically an orgy in their actual homes? With all their nice furniture?”

    “I guess not,” Bucky mumbled.

    Bucky crossed his arms, still uncomfortable. He was beginning to think that his game of chicken with Zemo was going too far, and he honestly thought Zemo had been making the whole party up. But now he was actually here, dressed up in a black Valentino suit that Zemo had insisted on, about to step into—God only knew what.

    Zemo was dressed in a regal blue suit that fit him so well Bucky couldn’t stop staring at his firm ass, no matter how hard he tried. That wasn’t unusual, Bucky had become very familiar with Zemo’s body over the past several days, and the fact that he knew Zemo’s ass was still marked with the bruises from his own hand was driving him mad.

    The sex had continued to be great, but Bucky insisted, both to Zemo and to Sam, that they were nothing more than friends. Bucky could fuck somebody else, anytime he wanted to—he didn’t—but he could.

    Bucky’s stomach twisted with anxiety when a man in a Phantom of the Opera mask answered the door and asked Zemo for a password. This whole night was giving him an uneasy feeling.

    “Orrrgggyyyy,” Zemo drew out the word in a rumbling voice.

    Bucky scoffed when Phantom stepped aside and waved them in.

    “Seriously?” Bucky whispered to Zemo.

    “What? It’s easy to remember. Relax and don’t embarrass me.”

    “Don’t embarrass yourself,” Bucky said under his breath.

    The inside of the house was much more elegant than the outside suggested. The mood lighting aided in the anonymity of the costumes. Bucky was slightly calmed by the fact that everyone was just as elaborately dressed up as he was. To Zemo’s credit, Bucky could tell, even with the masks, that the people here were wealthy beyond his understanding. Really, who else could afford to leave daily life behind on a Sunday night to go to a masquerade party?

    Tables of Halloween-themed food lined the outskirts of the dancefloor.

    “Is that a buffet?” Bucky asked incredulously.

    Zemo turned around, curious. He gave Bucky a slight shrug of his shoulder.

    “What is a buffet doing at a goddamn orgy, Zemo?”

    “You know, it’s actually a good idea; you don’t want to get too peckish, ruins the sex.”

    “This is weird as shit.”

    Zemo smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief behind his gold mask. “What’s the matter, James? I thought you were looking forward to this?”

    Bucky gritted his teeth; he couldn’t back out now. “Nothing. I’m going to mingle.”

    Bucky missed the frown on Zemo’s face as he turned his back and stalked away.


    Bucky had tried to find people to talk to—okay, maybe he hadn’t tried that hard but parties were not his thing. The only thing keeping him going was his desire to beat Zemo at his own game. For the moment, he was taking a break, nursing a beer at a table alone. Earlier, a Strange Woman had tried to chat him up but wouldn’t shut up about some guy named Gabriel, who Bucky assumed she had come to the party with. That was until another partygoer joined them and mentioned the name as well. They asked if Bucky had met him yet.

    “Who’s Gabriel?” Bucky finally gave in to his curiosity.

    He received a shocked look in return and then nervous laughter as the man and Strange Woman walked away.

    Okay…whatever that means.

    He got up to get another beer, and his attention was caught by a young woman dancing in the middle of a group of men who looked to be at least twice her age. Bucky continued to watch, not sure if he should do something or not. When the song ended, and the woman headed in his direction for a drink, he decided to stay put and make sure she was okay.

    She was smiling and breathless as she messily poured a glass of punch and chugged half of it. Bucky had a feeling that he knew her from somewhere but couldn’t quite place it.

    “You’re new,” the woman noted, startingly Bucky out of his thoughts.

    “Uh yeah—I came with a friend.”

    She stared at him a bit longer, probably waiting on him to say something else. “Have you met Gabriel yet? I can introduce you.”

    “I haven’t—I’m sorry you look really familiar, have we met?”

    “I think I’d remember if I had met you before. No one in this town looks even a tenth as handsome as you.”

    “Wait—shit, aren’t you, Callie? Callie Strong? I saw your picture on the news. Are you okay? Do you need help?”

    The woman’s eyes went wide, but she quickly recovered; Bucky thought she looked angry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone.”

    She stormed off and went back to her group, the men all turned to stare at him too, and Bucky felt uneasy for about the millionth time that evening.

    Let it go. Why would a missing girl be at a Halloween party?

    It’s like you’re purposefully looking for trouble.

    He took another calming swig of his beer as his eyes roamed the party, looking for the only other ones that mattered to him. When he found them, Zemo’s dark eyes, a smile on his face as he laughed, Bucky’s stomach flipped. He loved that smile, maybe too much for his own good.

    Zemo was heading his way, with another man in tow. Bucky stood up straighter as they approached.

    “James, meet my new friend, Aidan.”

    Bucky nodded, ignoring Aidan’s outstretched hand.

    “Strong silent type—I like,” Aidan said to Zemo.

    Bucky thought he saw a flicker of annoyance in Zemo’s eyes; he cocked his head, staring Zemo down. “Nice to meet you, Aidan,” Bucky said without breaking Zemo’s gaze.

    He was right; Zemo was prickling under Bucky’s stare.


    Aidan cleared his throat in an attempt to break the awkward tension. “So, what are we doing here, gentlemen?”

    Zemo quickly refocused, shooting Aidan a gentle smile before turning back to Bucky. “James, I thought Aidan might be a good match for you. Don’t you think?”

    Bucky took another sip of his beer. This was it. This was the end of the game. Would he slam on the breaks or drive over the cliff?

    He wanted to slam on the breaks. He didn’t want anyone else. He only wanted Zemo, but he didn’t know if he could have him. So, he continued playing the game, unaware that Zemo was only doing this to force Bucky to admit his feelings.

    “Sure, let's go,” Bucky finally sighed.

    “I’ll lead the way,” Aidan said with an excited smile.

    “Thanks, Helmut; I owe you one.” Bucky squeezed Zemo’s shoulder as he walked away.

    He didn’t miss Zemo’s frown that time, but he continued walking.


    Aidan led Bucky up a creaky staircase. They passed several rooms, the occupants not bothering to shut the doors, letting Bucky and everyone else take a peek into their demented fantasies.

    I need to get the hell out of here.

    Aidan paused in front of a door where several other people his age were in various stages of undress, passing a vape pen around. “I brought someone new for round two,” Aidan announced to the group excitedly.

    Bucky froze for a moment, one masked face looking too familiar.

    No, it can’t be…pull yourself together, Barnes.

    He pulled Aidan back into the hallway and shut the door. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, and your friends—seem great, but I’m not fucking you. So, can you just stay here long enough for Zemo to think we did?”

    “Are you serious?” Aidan tried to walk away, but Bucky stopped him, gripping his shoulder just tight enough to show him how serious he was.

    “Fine, 10 minutes. But Gabriel won’t be happy about this.” Aidan leaned against the wall and scrolled through his phone.

    “Who the fuck is Gabriel?” Bucky asked, already distracted as he tried to look over the banister for Zemo. He spotted him by the buffet table eating dessert and talking to a buff blonde man with an Ivan Drago-chin.


    Bucky’s stomach had been growling for the past half hour, but Zemo had warned him that it was social suicide to eat at these kinds of parties. Yet there he was, stuffing his face

    “Seriously? You don’t know Gabriel? Who are you?” Aidan asked, sounding more confrontational than he had before.

    Bucky missed it, he was too busy watching Zemo, and when Drago rubbed his thumb over Zemo’s lip to wipe off a bit of frosting, Bucky lost it.

    “Tell your Gabriel, I’m sorry, I gotta go.” He left Aidan and made a beeline for Zemo.

    Drago looked slightly startled when Bucky suddenly appeared out of nowhere and stood next to Zemo’s side.

    “This must be the friend you mentioned,” the man acknowledged.

    “He doesn’t like to do names, even more anonymous,” Zemo filled Bucky in.

    Bucky grunted in response, crossing his arms as he sized the man up.

    “I hope you don’t mind if I steal your friend away for a bit,” Drago said to Bucky.

    Bucky looked at Zemo, who was staring at him curiously as if he was wondering what Bucky would do next.

    Bucky froze, unable to make himself say what he wanted to.

    No, asshole, as a matter of fact, it’s not okay!

    The man took Bucky’s silence as a sign to begin to lead Zemo away, his arm wrapped around Zemo’s shoulder. Bucky watched, panic ensuing.

    Just let him go. He obviously wants this.

    Zemo glanced back and caught Bucky’s eye. A last chance.

    Bucky took it.

    He caught up to them with only a few quick strides and placed a protective hand on Zemo’s shoulder. “Sorry, he’s mine.”

    Drago turned to Bucky with an easy smile. “You can join too; we all share here.”

    Bucky pulled Zemo out of the man’s grip and stepped in front of him. “No, you didn’t hear me. I said he’s mine.”

    The man put his hands up in defeat, the danger in Bucky’s blue eyes making him stalk away angrily.

    When Bucky turned around, Zemo was staring at him with that annoying head tilt and smirk he always wore. He looked sexier than Bucky had ever seen him. His hair was slightly askew, one loc lazily fallen over his dramatic gold mask. Bucky had laughed when Zemo tried it on; it was so perfectly him, elegant and dramatic and beautiful. Bucky knew he was staring too long, it was getting weird, but he never got over looking at him. It wasn’t fair how his face somehow made him look like the sweetest, most innocent man Bucky had ever seen but at the same time made him want to get on his knees and worship him.

    Fuck it. What do you have to lose?

    Just your sanity if he rejects you, but that’s nothing new.

    Bucky took a step forward and pulled Zemo toward him, brushing his lips against Zemo’s. “I made Aidan sit upstairs for 10 minutes so that you would think I fucked him. But I didn’t.”

    “Okay,” Zemo whispered back, his lips still pressed to Bucky’s.

    “Did you want to leave with that guy?”

    Zemo slightly shook his head.

    “I know I kept saying I didn’t want this to be anything serious, but I lied. I was afraid, and I’m not great at this anymore, and I didn’t think you would want me, and—”

    “Bucky,” Zemo placed his hand on Bucky’s jaw, “just say what you need to say.”

    Bucky knew the moment his preferred name came out of Zemo’s mouth, and his knees felt weak; he knew he had to tell him.

    “I’m in love with you,” Bucky blurted out.

    Zemo didn’t give him time to panic about what he had just said; he pulled Bucky closer until their foreheads were resting together.

    “How could you think I wouldn’t want you? What is there not to want?”

    “Really?” Bucky asked with a hint of insecurity.

    “I love you too, even though you make it difficult sometimes.” Zemo smiled when Bucky’s lips finally started to turn up into a grin. He wrapped his hand in Bucky’s hair and kissed him.

    Bucky could still taste the frosting on his tongue. “I saw you eating, by the way; what will the upper-class clowns think?”

    Zemo smiled against Bucky’s plush lips. “Who gives a damn? Let's go home; I’ve got better treats in store.”

    “Wait. That’s it? You don’t think we should talk about this—about us?”

    “What is there to talk about? I’ve been waiting for you to come to this conclusion for months now.”

    “Months? You—you’ve felt this way about me for months? Why wouldn’t you say something?!”

    Zemo sighed and grabbed Bucky’s hand, intending to lead him out of the party, but when he turned around, they were surrounded. In their private moment, they hadn’t noticed the partygoers slowly gathering around them.

    “We were just on our way out. Thank you for the party.” Zemo remained confident and tried to walk out of the circle but was pushed backward by the Strange Woman Bucky had spoken with earlier.

    “Nice party, isn’t it?” She asked in a screeching voice.

    “What the hell is going on, Helmut?” Bucky whispered as they slowly backed away from the woman.

    “Honestly, no idea.”

    The Strange Woman stepped forward quickly and ripped Zemo’s mask off his face. The circle started to approach, squeezing them in. “Helmut Zemo, Baron of Sokovia,” the crowd chanted in unison. “His hands are covered in blood, yet none of it brought his family back. Dead!” They chanted and continued to step closer.

    The Strange Woman took Bucky’s mask off next.

    “James Barnes. The Winter Soldier. He just might be the devil himself, no matter how hard he tries,” the crowd chanted, almost close enough to touch them now.

    “I knew something was off about this place, Helmut.”

    “Is now the time to have that argument?”

    “Hush!” The Strange Woman yelled. “You can’t leave without meeting your savior. The great one. Gabriel.”

    “Screw this, you know so much about us—who the hell are you?” Bucky reached out to take off her mask.

    She let out a bloodcurdling scream and fell to the floor, blood gushing everywhere. Bucky stood stunned, not sure what had just happened.


    Bucky looked at Zemo, who was white as a ghost, and pointing at the mask Bucky held in his hand with the Strange Woman’s face still attached.


    “What the hell did you get us into, Helmut?!” Bucky whispered from their hiding place in a room upstairs.

    “Calm down; we’ll figure a way out.”

    “I just ripped a woman’s face off! Don’t tell me to calm down!”


    Bucky fell quiet as they heard footsteps in the hall. The sound of weapons dragging across the floor and banging against the walls echoed around the room.

    Bucky was squeezed into a small closet with Zemo. After he had ripped the Strange Woman’s mask off, all hell had broken loose. Bucky was fast enough to get them both upstairs and hidden before the partygoers had armed themselves.

    “I think they passed us by for now. Listen, I saw the missing woman that’s been on the news, Callie Strong. I thought maybe I imagined it, but it was definitely her. This is some kind of freaky rich people sex cult.”


    “And earlier, with Aidan, I saw a guy who’s been messaging me nonstop. He’s been inviting me to a party and asking for pictures of my body to send to his friends. What’s that movie Sam made us watch?” Bucky thought for a moment.

    “James—” Zemo tried again.

    “Get Out! What if they want to do some weird shit with my body, Helmut? I mean, what the fuck?!”

    “James—someone is in the room,” Zemo deadpanned as the closest door swung open.

    Drago stood there with an ax and a sinister smile on his face. “There you are. Now, please come with me; Gabriel just wants to talk to you.”

    “And if we don’t wish to speak with him?” Zemo asked, standing straight with his chest puffed out.

    “Well, then I’ll have to hurt you.”

    Neither of them moved, and when the man sighed and reached out for Zemo, Bucky reacted, twisting the man’s arm until it snapped.

    “Fuck!” The man swung the ax with his other arm, aiming for Zemo’s head.

    Bucky blocked it with his vibranium hand and kicked the man in the chest, sending him flying across the room.

    “Come on, that will have alerted the others,” Bucky said as he took the ax from the man and led Zemo out of the room.

    Callie was waiting and attacked him as soon as he stepped into the hallway.

    “What the hell?! Is that a fucking sword?!” Bucky dodged the blade and knocked the woman into the wall.

    The sword clattered to her feet, and Zemo quickly picked it up.

    Bucky shook his head with a short laugh. “Of course, you look good carrying a sword. Anyone else would look like a jackass.”

    “It’s in my blood,” Zemo swung the sword once and smirked at Bucky, “now James, I know you don’t want to kill anyone, but—”

    “Fuck that, these people are out of their minds. They have goddamn masks sewn to their faces! That guy tried to decapitate you! We’re getting out of here, even if we have to kill every last one of them.”

    Bucky and Zemo turned toward the staircase as footsteps started ascending. They looked at each other with determination in their eyes as they shed their suit jackets and rolled up their sleeves.

    “That’s what I was hoping you would say, my love.” Zemo smiled wickedly before he turned and stabbed his sword through the heart of his first victim.


    The moonlight made the blood on Bucky’s skin look inky black. He was sure he looked like a demon; maybe he was the devil himself. He didn’t care much at the moment; he was just happy to be out of that goddamn house.

    “Helmut, will you come on? I want to get out of here!”

    Bucky had blacked out during the fight—a defense mechanism. But when he came to, he and Zemo were at the bottom of the stairs, a pile of bodies behind them. Bucky had busted the lock on the front door only to turn around and find Zemo running in the opposite direction toward the kitchen.

    Bucky was about to yell for him again when Zemo came dashing out of the kitchen, yelling at him to run.

    He listened, following Zemo away from the house. Just as they crossed the street, a loud boom made Bucky jump and turn around. The house was up in flames.

    “What did you do?”

    Zemo shrugged. “Made sure there were no resurrections.”

    “You and Sam and your scary movies,” Bucky laughed, but he did feel relieved.

    They watched the flames for a few more moments, partly due to exhaustion and partly to make sure no one escaped.

    “Is now a bad time to continue discussing how I told you that I loved you and you said you’ve been in love with me for months?”

    Zemo snorted, pushing his hair out of his face. “You know, anything else for us would be weird.”

    They began walking back toward town, and Zemo continued his explanation. “I didn’t want to push you. You’ve been through so much, and I know how difficult it is for you to make friends, much less be involved with someone intimately. I considered myself lucky to at least have a physical relationship with you. And a bit selfishly, I was scared you would reject me flat out, and our friendship and the sex would be ruined.”

    Bucky tentatively grabbed Zemo’s hand, his heart fluttering when it made Zemo pause and smile.

    “This isn’t quite right,” Zemo said as he let go of Bucky’s hand. He gently removed Bucky’s leather glove before intertwining their fingers again, this time feeling the cold vibranium against his palm. “You don’t have to hide from me. Ever.”

    Bucky felt his heart expand, too big for his chest; he didn’t know what to do with so much happiness.

    “I’m sorry I took so long.”

    “I’m sorry I dragged you to a sex party to force your feelings out of you rather than just telling you how I felt. And I’m sorry that said sex party ended up being hosted by a murderous cult that we had to kill.”

    Bucky laughed, the most genuine laugh he had in a long time. “It was worth it. And hey, most memorable Halloween ever.”

    “Let’s not make it a tradition,” Zemo teased as he rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

    “No, next year, let’s stay home and watch scary movies in our pajamas like normal adults.”

    “It’s a date. You know, we never did meet Gabriel. I wonder which one he was.”

    “My guess? The blond. He seemed the most pissed off.”

    Zemo shrugged. “Or maybe there was no Gabriel at all. Maybe he escaped before the fighting began.”

    “Don’t go and give yourself nightmares, Helmut. This isn’t a horror movie.”

    Bucky squeezed Zemo’s hand a bit tighter. He was playing it cool, but the thought sent a chill up his spine. They hadn’t thoroughly checked the house; they had just run out when people stopped attacking.

    He glanced over his shoulder. The sidewalk was empty.

    Of course it’s empty.

    Bucky’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hell yes, we have service again. I’ll call an Uber.”

    His face dropped as he looked at his phone screen. A message just sent a minute prior was waiting for him from his masked dating app admirer. His stomach sank, his face going pale and mouth dry.

    Leaving so soon? You didn’t even say hello. XOXO Gabriel.

    My Masterlist

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  • strwbrrybucky
    28.10.2021 - 6 hours ago
    #el’s 2k sleepover #bucky barnes #cw!bucky #tfatws!bucky #40s!bucky
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  • sammy-souffle
    28.10.2021 - 7 hours ago

    Never thought I'd love a character as much as I love Sam 😭

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  • capsamxbucky
    28.10.2021 - 7 hours ago

    not gonna lie it was very gay of him to bite his lips while checking sam out like that

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  • strwbrrybucky
    28.10.2021 - 7 hours ago
    #el’s 2k sleepover #bucky barnes#tfatws bucky
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  • alidravana
    28.10.2021 - 8 hours ago
    #WIP ask game #TFATWS#pre-Sam/Bucky#Wakanda#Silly Traditions #please ask me more
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  • theundercovermarvelfan
    28.10.2021 - 8 hours ago

    (Image Credit: Whumptober Challenge Tumblr)


    Day Twenty-Six

    You Will Go Down With This Ship

    Fallen | Waterfall | Trap Door

    The ice on the bridge didn’t help anything as Bucky and Sam took on a group of arms dealers in the middle of their convoy.

    “Careful, Buck!” Sam called as Bucky stumbled while dodging a blow while Sam swooped by overhead.

    “Not all of us get to fly over this shit,” Bucky yelled back as he took his attacker out with a swift blow to the face.

    “Five hostels left,” Sam reported as he also took out another.

    “Pretty sure there were five left three takedowns ago,” Bucky griped as he focused on his next attacker.

    “What do you want from me, they had more guys in the truck,” Sam said as he took down two more attackers. “Down to three.

    “I make two,” Bucky said as he took out another.

    He spun around to find his next target… when a fist slammed into his face. Bucky went stumbling backward, struggling with his footing as he overbalanced on the ice. Another hard hit and Bucky’s lower back hit the safety rail behind him, and suddenly he was flipping over the barrier and falling into the open air below.

    Bucky was vaguely aware of Sam yelling his name as he flailed around in an attempt to get his feet under him. He only managed to get part way around, his right shoulder and hip leading as he hit the frozen river below. The impact was like a truck crashing through a cement wall and Bucky was swallowed up into the surging water below the frozen surface.

    The frigid water stole his breath and clawed at his exposed skin as it rushed him head over heels downriver until he didn’t know which way was up. Bucky tried to squint through the water, but the rapids under the ice churned the water up too much to be able to see much of anything. He reached out wildly, trying desperately to find the surface as he was rushed along.

    Finally, his fingers brushed a slick, solid surface that had to be the ice. His hands scrabbled along the smooth surface, trying to find anything he could hold onto. At one point the fingers of his right hand snagged on a dip in the ice formation, struggling to hold a grip as the water tried to pull him away. He swung desperately with his left arm to try and break the ice, but he had no leverage. As his fist connected with the ice, instead of pushing up on the ice the motion only served to push him down. He lost his precarious grip and was yanked downriver once again.

    His vision started to dim. His arms were getting too heavy to lift and suddenly his feet wouldn’t kick. This was it, he thought dimly. This was how he was going to die.

    And then there was an explosion of light and two hands snagged him over his arms and yanked him up. Bucky came up through the new hole on the ice coughing and wheezing as he desperately tried to get air into his starved lungs.

    “Easy, try to take it easy.” Sam’s low voice rumbled through Bucky, and he belatedly realized it was because Bucky’s head was resting against Sam’s chest.

    Bucky struggled to take in his surroundings. They were on dry land and Bucky’s legs were collapsed underneath him while he shivered so violently it was more like spasms. Sam’s arms were wrapped firmly around him, pressing him close to his chest as he rubbed his back firmly.

    “Wha… wha…?” Bucky mumbled, not even really sure what he was trying to say. His brain felt like it was filled with a thick fog and he was struggling to string together a complete thought.

    “You’re okay now,” Sam assured him calmly. “You fell into the river, was in there for maybe five minutes before I was able to find you under the ice. That river was moving a lot faster than I thought it would. You’re likely hypothermic, but you’re gonna be okay.”

    Bucky blinked blearily as he struggled to absorb what Sam was telling him. Bucky’s breaths were frustratingly shallow and his lungs were still aching, causing his breaths to quicken in a panic. Why wasn’t he getting enough air, was he still suffocating, was he still dying?

    “It’s okay, Buck, it’s okay,” Sam continued to assure him. “Take a deep breath. You’re okay now. I got you.”

    Bucky finally managed to suck in a decent shuddering breath, and his panic about not being able to get enough air finally started to wane. He was okay. Sam was here. Sam had saved him.

    “Okay, let’s get back to the safehouse,” Sam said as he lifted Bucky into his arms and stood up. “You need some dry clothes and some rest and you’ll be good as new. Promise.”

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  • parkjammys
    27.10.2021 - 8 hours ago
    excuse me while I cry, he liked my tweet 😭
    #danny ramirez#joaquin torres#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #mcu#marvel#stardust:txt #don't mind me i'm still crying
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  • worthington
    27.10.2021 - 8 hours ago

    sambucky + text posts

    #sambuckyedit#samwilsonedit#buckybarnesedit#marveledit#bucky barnes#sam wilson#sambucky#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #fatws#mcu#*#my gifs #these are so ugly im sorry
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  • parkjammys
    27.10.2021 - 8 hours ago
    I love this man
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