#tws | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slytherinshua · 3 days

Text

JUST US TWO

genre. academic rivals to lovers. mutual pining. fluff. a little angst. warnings. both reader and shinyu are academic slays. reader experiences burnout. not proofread thoroughly. pairing. class president!shinyu x fem!class president!reader. wc. 2.4k. request. requested by @eternalgyu, here. a/n. finally in my tws fic era ready to fill the void bcuz why aren't ppl stanning and writing for these boys??

You sighed as you shut your locker and the first thing in your view was Junghwan along with a small group of girls tailing behind him. You sent him a look, raising your eyebrow as if to question the situation, though you were all too familiar with it. It was almost routine. Junghwan could barely walk around the school without having his many admirers clinging to his side. It was annoying. He was annoying.

Junghwan just rolled his eyes at your look and walked off, leaving you to find your next class by yourself. You weren’t sure why you kept expecting him to show you any kind of attention. You were co-class presidents; so it would make sense that you would both get along. Apparently not, at least not during school hours.

Given the obvious dynamic between you two, most people in the school had a running joke that you both hated each other. You weren’t quite sure if it was true or not. Hate was a strong word, and annoyed might be a better descriptor of how Junghwan made you feel.

He never seemed to do his work as the president during school hours, spending the time instead flocked with his own group of admirers. You wondered how anyone could take that amount of attention without getting a headache. Not knowing when or if he would ever finish his assigned work had often left you stressing, yet Junghwan always seemed to pull through at the very last minute, often handing you the neatly done work minutes before you needed it. You weren’t sure how Junghwan had even gotten the position as president in the first place with how irresponsible he seemed to be. You were almost certain that he had gotten in by majority vote, using his good looks to get whatever he wanted, as usual.

Most annoyingly was how his face seemed to stop you from reprimanding him whenever he didn’t do something he was supposed to. It meant more work for you, yet you couldn’t seem to even complain about it. Over the months, it became harder and harder to even keep up the playful banter and savage remarks that you were used to exchanging with him. Before too long you realized the detrimental mistake you had made.

You had grown feelings for him.

Exam season was always extra work for the class presidents. You had to take as many tests as all the other students, but your separate president responsibilities only increased as the end of the school year grew closer. You should’ve noticed the signs of burnout before they hit you hard, but you didn’t.

Everything started to feel overwhelming before you knew it. You could barely focus in class or when you tried to study. Everything seemed to bring you closer to tears, even little things like Junghwan’s teasing. Things you used to handle just fine, even some that you used to enjoy. You barely had the energy to be annoyed at Junghwan anymore, just confused. It was as if he was never affected like you were. Everything seemed so easy for him. It just wasn’t fair. Worst of all, he didn’t even seem to notice how much you were struggling. He was the only classmate in the school that you had ever considered to be your friend, but even now you were questioning it. The more you felt invisible to him, the worse your burnout got.

You kept pushing yourself as much as you could. You didn’t know what else to do but to keep going. It was all you knew how to do. You completed exam after exam, feeling numb each time you got your scores back, watching as they slowly continued to drop 1 point at a time. You tried your best to handle all the activities for class president duties on top of it, but each time you noticed how the quality dropped significantly. You didn’t feel proud of your work like you once used to, you only felt tired.

You longed each day for someone to care enough to notice how much you were struggling. Particularly, you wished that Junghwan would notice. It was stupid to have developed a crush on him despite how careless and irresponsible he seemed to be, but you had genuinely enjoyed all the banter and rivalry you had with him over the months. It gave you something to look forward to. Another reason for you to do your best, knowing that someone would care and be impressed. Once you lost energy to keep up with it, though, you just wished he would talk to you normally.

“Hey, Y/n! Can we talk?” Junghwan pulled you aside after class ended, something you couldn’t have predicted in a million years. “Are you okay?” His hands were placed on your shoulders, and he tilted his head, inspecting your face carefully, noticing the unmistakable signs of tiredness with worried eyes.

“Do you even care?” You asked, an unusually irritated tinge in your voice. You never talked like that. You were unused to having him this close to you. As much as you felt unable to do anything, you liked how the simple feeling of his hands on your shoulders seemed to ease away some of the stress you were feeling.

“Yes. I care about you. You’ve seemed so down lately, don’t think I haven’t noticed. I just want to know what’s bothering you.” He frowned when you started to tear up. “Hey…” His voice softened just above a whisper when the tears started to escape your waterline. He reached up to wipe them away, but hesitated at the last second, leaving his hand up in mid-air awkwardly.

“Sorry.” You sniffed and stepped back from him to wipe away your tears. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me- everything’s just felt like so much. I-it’s stupid.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He countered. His tone was almost unlike him. He was always joking and teasing, but he said it so seriously that you instantly wanted to believe him. He led you to sit down by one of the desks, pulling another one right across from it so he could sit facing you.

He coaxed you to tell him everything that was on your mind. You were apprehensive at first, wondering if he might make a joke out of it. You knew him and his tendencies, and while you sometimes adored how he could make light of any situation, it wasn’t something you wanted right now. Thankfully, he didn’t. He knew that it was a situation that was serious to you, and he only listened intently, giving you as much time as you needed. Only after he was sure that you were done telling him everything, he spoke again.

“I think you should step down from being a class president.”

“What?” You were taken aback by his suggestion. It was absurd. You had been the student president for years. You had worked your ass off for it. You almost couldn’t imagine not having the responsibility.

“Just hear me out— only for a bit. The year is almost over anyway, and you’ve done more than 80% of the work. Next year you can go back to it if you feel like it, but you need a break. I’ll take care of everything, I promise, but only if you agree to give yourself a break.”

His words slowly sunk in, and you couldn’t ignore how right he was. You were overloaded. The only thing that you could drop from your responsibilities reasonably was class president. You reluctantly agreed, deciding to trust Junghwan on this. You just hoped it wouldn’t backfire.

Adjusting to less responsibilities was hard and even uncomfortable at times. You were always used to busying yourself. The feeling of accomplishing another task had always satisfied you, but the ability to relax was a luxury you hadn’t experienced in a while.

Junghwan seemed to stick by your side more than usual. The normal teasing died down so much that you had to make an effort to get him to crack a joke. You missed your usual banter, and though it was nice to see this new, caring side of Junghwan, you missed how casual you used to be with him. Wondering whether your pathetic breakdown had made him uncomfortable plagued your mind at times.

You still helped him with some of the class president duties. Only a little, though, as he wouldn’t allow you to do anything more than guiding him through what to do. It made for after school sessions together in the art room most days. You would work on homework or just relax and watch him work. You liked how warm it felt to be around him.

“You were right about taking a break.” You said one afternoon in the empty classroom. Your head lay on the desk that Junghwan was working at, colouring in a big poster to hang up for the bake sale next Friday. The sunlight shone through the window and warmed the side of your face. Junghwan couldn’t help but get a little distracted at the warm glow of the light on your skin. Pretty.

“Oh? Was I?” He cracked a teasing smile, one that always felt right when he was around you.

“I know right? Who knew that you were capable of giving decent advice. You should become a counsellor.” You joked.

He shuddered, “God, no. Imagine having to deal with problems from people you don’t even care about every day.”

You giggled and closed your eyes again, letting the sound of markers gliding across the paper be the only sound filling the room. Care. Junghwan cared about you.

A few minutes passed, simultaneously feeling like mere seconds and hours at the same time. There was no urgency when you were Junghwan. You were allowed to relax completely and think about nothing… Nothing but him.

You loved the fond gaze he gave you, the crinkle of his eyes, the lift of his lips into a smile, the sound of his laugh when he got a reaction out of you. You used to despise how much you liked everything about him, how even holding eye contact with him would give you butterflies, but now, you didn’t seem to mind.

Junghwan finished the poster off with white highlights on the bright green letters, making sure they would pop out just as much as if you were the one making the poster. He smiled proudly at his work, hoping it was neat enough for you to approve of too. He was about to ask what you thought of it when he realized you had been quiet for longer than usual.

He glanced down, his smile growing even more when he saw your eyes still closed, head lying on the desk with your arm used as a makeshift pillow. He sighed, deciding not to wake you up just to affirm his poster for the bake sale. He rested his head on his hand, staring fondly at your peaceful face.

“Pretty…” He mumbled to himself without even realising. The image of you sleeping was just too perfect, and Junghwan quickly made sure to save it in his brain forever. He couldn’t deny that he had wanted to be more with you for a long time. At first, he was just excited to have met a girl who was on his level; who could match his brain and wit. You even surpassed him in most areas. He was never entirely sure if you were interested in him too or not, though. You never seemed to admire anything about him, neither were you prone to jealousy like past girls he had been interested in. You just lived as yourself and let him live with you without any expectations. And he liked that about you.

“No… You’re the pretty one.”

Junghwan’s eyes widened as he looked back down at your face. Your eyes were still closed, a small smile playing at your lips, satisfied with your little whispered remark. Dozens of panicked thoughts raced through Junghwan’s head, but his face remained calm; still focused entirely on yours.

You opened your eyes and glanced up at him, lips curving into a more prominent smile. His ears were dusted red, and it was so cute. He just stared at you, voice caught in his throat. Not that you needed words from him. You sat up, leaning slightly closer to his face, searching for hesitation on his end. He just blinked at you, once, twice.

You didn’t have time to see him blink the third time, because as soon as he did, he closed the small distance between you two. You had imagined kissing Junghwan many times. How soft his lips would be, whether the kiss would be fast or slow, how long it would last. All these things you had considered many times before. But the kiss in your imagination didn’t compare even a little to how he was kissing you now.

It was soft— both his lips and how gentle he held you. He seemed almost scared to push too far, but it wasn’t enough for you. You pulled him even closer, allowing him to tilt his head and taste even more of your cherry lip balm. He was breathless, face hot and mind completely fuzzy by the time you pulled away. You were no better than him. Your eyes still stayed close a few seconds too long as you processed what just happened. It had all ended too quickly, though you were sure your lips had been on his for at least 2 minutes.

“Sorry.” He said sheepishly and then giggled. You looked like a deer in the headlights as you blinked your eyes open. You broke away from your frozen state when you saw Junghwan’s bright smile.

“For what?” You asked, eyes twinkling.

“For not doing that sooner.” He smiled.

“Better late than never.” You whispered.

Junghwan beamed, “I’ll make it up to you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he stood up from the desk.

“And just how will you do that?” You asked suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Will you go out with me on Friday?”

“Hmm… It depends. Will you ask me to be your girlfriend on this outing?”

He grinned, “I could ask you right now if you prefer. Can I be your boyfriend, Y/n?”

You smiled fondly at him, adoration in your eyes, “Yes. You can be my boyfriend.”

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy

34 notes · View notes

mohish-ko · 1 month

Text

looks like someone is purring while sleeping

#artists on tumblr #art #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky and alpine #alpine #thunderbolts #mcu fanart #mcu #bucky fanart #buckynat #tws #cw:tws

2K notes · View notes

notafunkiller · 6 months

Text

Bucky Barnes is the best super soldier

How it was subtly emphasized in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

He always holds back

With the Flag Smashers and even with John Walker. We could see the difference in the last 3 episodes. Sebastian Stan did an incredible job making it clear in a subtle way.

I want to mention that famous "Stay there" scene, and how it was visible Bucky was not punching as hard as he can in the fight with John.)

This is the thing about Bucky, he isn't after the kill, he just does his part. He doesn't try to show off his skills or that he is a good guy. He doesn't try to play the victim role, either. In the scene where Zemo fake-activates the Winter Soldier in Madripoor, he just makes a point. He's obviously not even trying hard.

If he wanted those in the club dead, they would be. But his self control was wow. Sebastian acted so well, his exes said everything.

*And to be honest, even when he was TWS, he could have killed everyone, but he didn't. He could have killed all of the Avengers in Civil War is they were his mission, but they weren't. This is how Natasha survived when she met him, too. It depended on what kind of mission he had (if he wasn't allowed to be seen, then the witnesses would die too, but otherwise? He didn't bother).

2. His skills

People tend to forget how smart and good at making strategies Bucky is. He's been fighting (even though he hates fighting and never wanted to be in the army) for years before he was even captured by Hydra. And this is the reason why government still want him, after all. They can use his strategies as a leader (*cough* Thunderbolts *cough*).

In the last episodes of TFATWS, we could see how he outsmarted everyone. Karli was so terrified of him.

3. Karli Morgenthau

And talking about Karli, the phone call was interesting:

She asked him if he's not tired of fighting for the wrong side, and then told him she's fighting for something bigger than herself.

"And with all the bodies you've collected, have you ever been able to say the same?"

The first thing I wanna point out is how everyone talks about the deaths Bucky caused when he was controlled by Hydra, but everyone ignores the fact that all the Avengers killed far more, but since we consider them the good side, we just don't care.

Clint, Tony, Steve, Wanda etc. They all cause(d) far more deaths than "two dozen" (known assassinations - to quote Natasha), and neither was controlled. The double standards are something else, especially for Clint. (One of the reasons why Tony was on the other side in CW was because of his guilt, after all.)

The second point is how Bucky's answer says a lot more than we might realize at first:

"You don't think I ever fought for something bigger than myself? That's all I ever tried to do, and I failed twice."

Even as TWS, Bucky had to be convinced he is on the right side, that what they do is to save the world, to give "the world the freedom it deserves".

Even brainwashed and put to sleep all the time, he had to be lied to. Bucky as TWS was a victim too. He is not a victim only because he didn't have memories or control, but also because they lied to him and used him as a toy. That milk scene is so loud. (And I am gonna talk about it in a different post). He had no rights, no choices. He was used to being tortured.

[And I wish they explored it more. We deserved and deserve a WS film - maybe with him in Romania getting back his memories, writing in his journal etc.]

"You think your cause justifies all this death, but in the end, the nightmares won't go away. You're gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust me. Don't do this. Don't go down this path."

Despite being on opposite sides, Bucky still said this to Karli, trying to help her, to make her see the big picture, sharing how he felt and feels.

He is on "the right side". He is a hero, and Bucky being thanked by that man for saving everyone's life was touching.

4. Baron Zemo

You can see how smart, strong, and rational Bucky is when he decides to break Zemo out of jail (his plan was amazing too), risking so much (his relationship with Wakanda people and his own freedom) to get his help for the mess. He puts the cause above his own (huge) trauma. And this makes that moment in Madripoor even more disgusting (he is treated as an object, as a toy):

Zemo: Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.

The way he keeps his composure, reacts and manages the situation... absolutely incredible!

This conversation also says a lot:

Zemo: The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path.

Bucky: Maybe you're wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.

Zemo: Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?

Bucky positions himself below Steve, who's considered a good hero, a good person... like no other. But Steve never had to go through what Bucky did: from being kidnapped like that, to being tested on, to falling off the train, to being tortured, and used, and brainwashed for decades, and put to sleep when he was not needed and having n "keepers".

Also, interesting how all Steve wanted was to fight (for a good cause, but still)... and fighting still means violence, meanwhile Bucky never wanted to fight, not even before becoming TWS, in the army (and yet he is still great at fighting. And he is deadly, even when he holds back.). All he wanted was peace.

Despite not getting the "perfect serum", despite being brainwashed, put to sleep, and forced to fight for decades, he is still himself. He never gave in to the dark side for real. He fought in his own way. The first thing he did when he woke up was to choke the Hydra guy with a whole new arm!

Bucky is so underrated: from his intelligence and fighting skills, to how human he is. Being flawed, keeping his sassiness and charm from the 40s, but getting more mature and carrying his past on his shoulders... he's so relatable and real. And every day, he shows Zemo he is wrong.

The show he makes in his final scene with Zemo is absolutely fantastic. He doesn't just prove the point he isn't defined by the serum and Hydra (AND not even by Steve, thanks to Sam. His speech made him realize the important thing about himself: that he decides who he is, not others - even those who know him before becoming TWS- "And this might be a surprise, but it doesn't matter what Steve thought. You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." parallel to "Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing. [...] So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me."), but also that he is superior.

When Zemo tells him that he decided to let him alive (probably so he can kill Karli) and basically calls him a killing machine: "programmed to kill", Bucky plays the role, lets Zemo talk him into killing Karli, and then Bucky watches him waiting for his own death.

[Also, Bucky's line: Imagine my relief is hilarious.]

The acting was incredible: the shock on Zemo's face and the amusement and somehow relief on Bucky's after he pulls the trigger and lets the bullets fall... He proved him he's THE standard of the super soldier. Because despite everything he went through, he is the best.

Zemo telling him to cross his name off felt like a fresh start (+ telling Nakajima the truth).

5. John Walker

John, on the other hand, is lucky Bucky is an understanding person. He gets what is like... the pressure, the environment, the loss, and even tries to help.

Bucky: Don't go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well.

John: I'm not like you!

Of course he is not like Bucky, because Bucky has control. He is not killing to get revenge in a cynical way.

"That serum doesn't exactly have a great track record."

John kept judging Bucky every time they spoke, somehow placing himself above this "broken" man.

"This is all really easy for you, isn't it? All that serum runnin' through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?"

This is so wrong on every single level, especially because Bucky didn't choose to take the serum, and he always had his friends' back. He's loyal and ready to sacrifice himself.

The "funny" part about this is John ending up taking the last super soldier serum vial. All the judgement, the disgust, the patronizing tone, just to do that. Plus, of course, to kill someone with the shield.

(John proves Zemo's point about super soldiers, and Bucky does the opposite.)

And what is it easy for Bucky anyway?

He's under government conditions (so CACW coded), he has a vibranium arm that I bet the government would try to take after he dies (HOPEFULLY WHEN HE'S 200 YEARS OLD IN HIS BED, as Sebastian wants too) if he isn't in Wakanda, he is haunted by nightmares (which also can mean he is still Hydra's TWS in another universe as we found out from Strange), and he has to learn how to live for real. He's smart, charismatic, has values and principles, and he's incredible.

We need to see his version of TWS going after everyone Hydra helped. TWS is him, a part of him, and doing that on his terms, having control over it would help him heal.

2K notes · View notes

stellangiios · 9 months

Text

Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER (2014)

#bucky barnes #tws #marveledit #twsedit #mcuedit #marveladdicts #marvelgifs #buckybarnesedit #usertammy #usersvenja #userelio #noalook #usernani #userashe #usersavana #*#tis the season to make this scene fall themed

2K notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 9 days

Text

Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes Captain America: The Winter Soldier

#marvel #avengers #marveledit #mcuedit #buckybanresedit #wintersoldieredit #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan #sexy seabass #captain america: the winter soldier #ca:tws #tws #marvel movies #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #199999 #avengerscompoundedit

528 notes · View notes

greenmantle · 8 months

Text

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER (2014) dir. Anthony & Joe Russo

#mine #filmedit #marveledit #captain america #captain america: the winter soldier #tws #twsedit #bucky barnes #stucky #catws #catwsedit #literally don't blame me jamie started it.#sopping wet cat

1K notes · View notes

lunarbuck · 1 year

Text

Dumb Bunny (dark!winter soldier xf!reader)

a dark little red riding hood retelling

pairing: dark!winter soldier x f! reader (any race)

wc: 3.3k

summary: The Wolf sees you walking through the forest on your way to your grandmother's house, and he just can't help himself.

warnings: dark fic, knives, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), pet names [bunny], degradation, primal play, predator/prey, fear, crying

a/n: this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic's fairytale writing challenge :) I hope you guys enjoy!

beta'd by the amazing @sgt-seabass <3

my masterlist

The sight of your home village warms your heart. You’ve been away for so long and missed so much. It’s good to be back. You pull the hood of your cape up to keep the sun off your face and venture into the heart of the village.

After gathering some sweets and a few loaves of bread, you bid farewell to the friendly faces you pass. As lovely as the village is, you can’t shake the feeling that something is just slightly… wrong.

The edge of the forest calls to you, the familiar sound of songbirds lulling you in. You’ve traveled this path hundreds of times; you know it with your eyes closed, even after all this time. Beautifully bright flowers bloom just off the beaten path. You gaze at them but don’t stop to pick any. Grandmother is expecting you. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her, you feel guilty you haven’t visited sooner.

As you walk, you hear footsteps crunch through the fallen leaves. You turn around, the hem of your cape fluttering with the movement. Behind you, you see a tall mountain of a man. Cloaked in black, the man stalks toward you. You’ve heard whisperings of him in town, the Wolf, they call him.

“Excuse me, miss,” he coos, voice deep and gravelly. “Where are you headed? A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone in these woods,” he whispers. “There is danger around every corner.”

You know what people say about the Wolf, the things he’s rumored to have done. That he’s a killer, that he roams the woods hunting unsuspecting victims. He’s ruthless, coldblooded and animal-like in his violence. You’re sure the rumors are true as you gaze up at his bright eyes. Fear flashes through your mind as you stare at him. His eyes are a stark, beautiful blue. His hair, dark and inky, frames his face, though most of it is covered by a black mask.

“I’m visiting my grandmother’s house,” you tell him, smiling politely. You’ve always been taught to be kind to strangers, and this stranger, in particular, the way he’s looking at you, seems to scream danger. You don’t want to risk slighting him.

“Ah,” the Wolf replies, raising his eyebrows. “And what might you have there in your basket?” You move the cloth, showing the Wolf your various sweets and loaves of bread. You imagine he is licking his lips behind his mask. Images of his lips on you, of him kissing you deeply, of him tasting you, flash through your mind, and you quickly shut your eyes. You try to shake off the heat that’s settled in your belly. You shouldn’t think that way about a stranger.

“Well, I must be going. Grandmother is expecting me.” You nod to the Wolf and cover your basket, returning to the path you’d been following. Each breath feels tight in your chest.

“What a shame,” he calls. “The birds are singing so sweetly.” Your steps slow as you allow yourself to listen to the songs that float through the air, but you continue on. You can always listen to the birds as you walk.

“Ah, but the flowers are so beautiful this time of year. Wouldn’t your grandmother enjoy a bouquet?” The Wolf asks, again halting your walking. You glance at the flowers off the path, practically preening for you in the sunlight. Grandmother has always loved the wildflowers; maybe you could spare a few moments to gather a small bouquet.

“I suppose…” You glance back at the Wolf, finding that he has continued to follow you down the path. He’s so close now that if you breathed deeply, your back would touch his chest. Your heart stutters with fear. How did he move so quickly without you hearing? How did you not feel him approach?

“You don’t want to miss out on all the beauty,” he whispers, leaning down beside your ear. With two long fingers, the Wolf tugs your hood off your head, letting the breeze flutter against your neck. He breathes deeply, and your knees wobble as you feel the heat the Wolf emanates. Something sharp trails down your neck, a stinging pain following close behind, and your eyes widen.

Not even a breath later, he’s gone. You shudder at his sudden absence and quickly dart your eyes around, looking for the Wolf, but he’s disappeared into the shadows.

You try to calm your nerves, focusing instead on the flowers glittering just a few paces away. You kneel down, gathering your skirts to prevent them from getting dirty. The flowers are soft against your fingertips as you pick the perfect ones. All the while, the Wolf’s beautiful blue eyes burn in your mind.

The Wolf

Poor, poor grandmother, I think to myself as I drag the woman out of her woodland home and into the glade. She’ll wake up eventually, but not before I do what I want. Not before I take care of her sweet, beautiful little granddaughter.

I go back into the house and take in the empty space. Photos of my little bunny are everywhere, school photos and memories of vacations. She looks so delectable in her too-small bikini, her bright smile practically blinding me.

Next, I climb the stairs, finding myself in the room I had just dragged her grandmother from. The four-poster bed takes up most of the room, fabric hanging from the top of the frame like a canopy. I grin at the thought of taking my bunny here, her tears staining the blanket. Her screams filling the air. I feel myself hardening in my pants, and I adjust my cock.

When I saw her walking through town, my mouth watered. She looked so beautiful in her red cloak, the sun warming her skin. She looked good enough to fucking eat. I followed her from a distance, but once she entered the forest, I couldn’t hold back any longer. The smell of her when I got close… I could barely hold myself back. I wanted to grab her right then and there. I wanted to fuck her into the dirt. But good things come to those who wait.

I am not a patient man, and I always get what I want. Always.

So, I lay down on the bed, the canopy concealing me well enough, and wait.

And wait, and wait.

Until I hear the door creak open.

“Grandmother?” My bunny calls. I can practically hear the smile on her lips. I grin beneath my mask, fingers itching to touch her. To mark her. I hear her footsteps as she wanders into the house. My heartbeat speeds up, ready for the hunt.

“Grandmother?” She calls again, this time even closer. I see her shadow as she comes up the stairs, and a moment later, she pushes open the bedroom door. “Oh, Grandmother, are you ill?” Through the canopy, I see her set down a vase of flowers, the ones she picked in the woods, and her basket, full of sweets.

Her fingers gently curl around the canopy’s fabric and tug it aside. Her eyes widen, and her lips part on a scream, but I’m already moving. I lunge, grab her, and push her down onto the mattress. My hand presses over her mouth, absorbing her scream.

“So fucking beautiful when you scream, bunny,” I growl, dipping my head into the crook of her neck. I breathe her in, the sweet scent of fear mixing with the floral scent of her perfume.

My bunny writhes and struggles against me, but it’s no use. I’m bigger than her, stronger than her. She’ll never escape me. She heaves her breath behind my hand, so I take it off of her, not minding if she screams. No one will hear her anyways.

“What– what are you doing?” She whimpers, tears streaking down her face.

I don’t answer. Instead, I straddle her hips, pinning her to the bed. I run my hands along her torso and up to her breasts. She fits perfectly in my hands, and I flick my eyes to hers, watching her reaction. I can see the way she struggles with herself. The way she wants to give in to me, but something holds her back.

“Oh, bunny,” I whisper, my hands coming up to curl around her neck. “What a beautiful neck you have.” I squeeze her neck lightly, giving her just a taste of what I want, and I see the way her pupils dilate. Her hips jolt up into mine, and I grin beneath my mask.

She breathes heavily, lips parting into a perfect, soft ‘o’. “And what perfect lips you have.” I move one hand up, running my thumb across her beautiful mouth. I lean down close, cupping her jaw.

I want to taste her, I want to rip this fucking mask off my face and taste my little bunny, but I can’t. Not yet. I need to be patient. I sit up, slipping a knife out of my belt and flicking it open. Her eyes widen at the glinting blade.

“Please,” she whispers, tears brimming in her eyes again. “Please don’t hurt me.” I grin.

“My poor, stupid, little bunny. The more you beg me not to, the more I want to hurt you.” She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and I stifle a moan. I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without her, how I’m going to go on living if I don’t have her by my side.

“What did you do to my grandmother?” She asks, voice wavering.

“You don’t want to know, bunny.” Her tears stream down her cheeks, and she hiccups as she sobs. She’s fucking perfect. I take in the sight of her blood-red cloak stark against the white sheets. I run the knife along the side of her face, not cutting or scratching her but letting her feel the sharp edge.

I slide off the bed, dragging the knife down the center of her sternum between her breasts and down her torso. I see the thoughts running through her pretty little head. I know she wants to run. I hope she does. I step back and watch her fingers twitch before she darts off the bed. Her red cape flutters behind her as she saints down the stairs. I give her a head start before giving chase. My little bunny is more perfect than she could ever know.

After taking a steadying breath, I take off after my bunny. She left the front door open, and I catch sight of the hem of her cape as she dives behind a tree. She ran pretty far, I’ll give her that, but she won’t escape me. Never.

My feet pound on the ground as I chase her, adrenaline coursing through my veins. She keeps running, doing her best to hide as she goes deeper into the forest, but she’s not fast enough. I catch up quickly, making sure she knows just how close I am. Whenever she hears my boots snap a twig, she yelps, tripping over her feet. As we get further away from the house, she loses steam. I grin as she stumbles, constantly looking back to see me hunting her.

Bunny’s cape gets caught on a branch, and she falls, landing hard in the dirt. She tries to crawl away, but she knows it’s no use. I stalk toward her, loving the way she shakes with each breath, and sink to the ground by her head.

I grip her by her hair, lifting her face out of the dirt, and lean down. “You lose, bunny.” She gasps as I bring out my knife, holding it near her cheek as I turn her. Even though she ran and wants to think she’s afraid of me, I know what she wants. I can fucking smell it on her. Can taste it in the air.

“Please,” she whispers, fingers digging into the leaves on the ground. Her thighs rub together beneath her skirts, and my mouth waters. I know she won’t run this time, not when she’s so close to getting what she wants.

I remove my mask, tugging it from my face with my other hand. Her lips part as her eyes search my features. I move between her legs, running a hand along one of her legs. I push up her skirt, exposing her soft skin. With my knife, I run the tip along her leg, up and up, until I reach her panties. She can’t hide how needy she is. My bunny writhes in the dirt, begging me to touch her with her big beautiful eyes. I slide my knife beneath the waistband of her panties, slicing the fabric. I cut a matching slit near her other leg, tugging the material away. She shivers as the cool air hits her cunt.

“What a pretty pussy you have, bunny,” I growl, lowering my face to the crux of her thighs. She watches me with lust-filled eyes, nodding like the dumb little bunny she is. I bite her inner thigh, leaving an imprint of my teeth on her skin.

“What beautiful eyes you have,” she tells me, a small smile on her lips.

“The better to see you with, bunny.” I run my nose along her pussy, and she bites back a moan. My tongue laves along her clit, and I hear her breath hitch.

“What–” she gasps when I press a finger inside her tight cunt. “What a perfect mouth you have.” I groan against her pussy, devouring her like my last meal.

“The better to eat you with,” I mutter into her pussy. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. She tastes so fucking sweet, practically dripping against my lips. I knew my bunny would be perfect, but she’s better than I ever could have dreamed.

“Please, please,” she whimpers, begging for her release. I curl my finger inside of her, looking for the spot that makes her squirm, and brush my teeth over her sensitive clit. My little bunny is so responsive for me, writhing around in the dirt.

“So fucking sweet, bunny, my own little treat.” Her whimpers get higher pitched, and I know she’s close. I’m practically humping the dirt, I’m so hard, but all I can think about is how good my bunny is being and how fucking perfect she’s going to feel wrapped around my cock.

I work her right up to the edge, and when she’s gripping my hair so hard she’s about to pull it out, she breaks. She comes all over my tongue and finger, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I crawl up over her, my tongue running over my lips, gathering her taste. “What a good bunny,” I whisper, taking in the sight of her blissed-out expression. She wants more, though, I can tell.

Her eyes roam over my face, her hands tracing over my features. Her lips part, but she can’t seem to find the words. “Tell me what you want, bunny.” My finger circles her sensitive clit; she jolts.

She shudders but doesn’t speak. “Come on, bunny. I know you’re afraid. I know that you don’t want to admit it. You want my cock? Is that it, bunny? You want me to fuck you here in the dirt?” Her eyebrows pinch together, and fear flashes in her eyes. She knows I’m dangerous; she knows I am unpredictable.

“You wanna be my dirty bunny?” I ask her, nipping at the soft skin of her neck. “You’re my dumb fucking bunny, you know that? You’re gonna let me fuck you into the dirt, and you’re gonna love every second of it, isn’t that right?”

“Oh my god,” she moans, hips bucking against my fingers. “Please.”

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.” I bite her shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and she gasps. “Tell me that you’re my dumb little bunny. Tell me what you want me to do.”

I see the way she hesitates, the way her mind runs through all the reasons she should fight me, but then I see the shift. I see the moment lust takes over, and she succumbs to her primal desires.

“I’m your dumb little bunny,” she whispers. I slide two fingers into her pussy, scissoring my fingers to stretch her. “And–” she sucks in a breath. “And I want– need you to fuck me.”

“Such a good bunny.” I settle back between her legs and pump my fingers, working her up again. I use my other hand to take off my belt. When my pants are down far enough, I palm my cock, moaning. She watches me with hooded, lust-drunk eyes, and I smirk. My dumb little bunny looks so pretty taking my fingers, but she’ll look even better taking my cock.

I take a long look at her pretty face before I grip her hips and turn her over. Hooking my hands underneath her, I position her with her ass high and her head in the dirt. This is how she was meant to be; she was fucking born for this.

I line my cock up with her perfect pussy and tease her clit, loving how she jolts each time. My little bunny has never looked better with her skirt shoved up on her waist and her face pressed against the earth.

“What a perfect bunny for me,” I tell her, spanking her ass. I press my cock into her, groaning as she squeezes me. She’s so fucking tight, so perfect, like she was made for me. Made for this. I slide in, loving how she stretches around my dick. Her face screws up the deeper I get, but I don’t give her time to adjust.

I set a brutal, deep pace, and electricity shoots up my spine. The sounds she’s making, the way her fingers dig into the dirt, are nearly too much for me to handle. The smell of sex and earth floods my nose, and I feel it flood my bloodstream.

She moans and whimpers with each thrust, pressing back with each thrust, egging me on. My little bunny wants me just as much as I want her. I lean down, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and haul her torso up so she’s kneeling, arching against me. I run my tongue along the spot I’d cut earlier when I’d first spoken to her, tasting the sweet tang of her blood.

My little bunny has tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face. Her eyes are screwed shut as she takes my dick.

“Such a good little bunny,” I groan into her ear. “You were fucking made for this. You were fucking born to be my dumb bunny, to take my cock.” Her cunt flutters around my dick, and my hips stutter.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants like a prayer. I drop a hand to her clit and circle it in a way that makes her throw her head back, and bite the cut on her neck. The combination of sensations throws her over the edge, and she convulses on my cock.

I press her back into the dirt and pound into her, slamming into her over and over again. I come on a moan, both of us collapsing. “Good bunny,” I whisper. “Such a good little bunny.”

She falls asleep, drained from the way I used her body, and I grin at the sight. She should know better than to fall asleep next to a predator like me. I brush the dirt from my pants, tucking my cock away, and pick her up. I carry her back to her grandmother’s house and lay her on the four-poster bed.

Next, I retrieve poor old grandmother. She’s still asleep. The drug I gave her will wear off soon. I place her on the couch in the front room. I’ll let my bunny find her when she comes to. I return to the bedroom and stare at my beautiful little bunny.

I don’t clean her up; I don’t even put her dress back. She looks perfect, dirty, and used against the bone-white sheets.

Just the way I like her.

Fill out this form to join my taglist :) Must be 18+

Everything tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @chibijusstuff @midnightramyeoncravings @wickidlady @buckyb-stan @adoreyouusugar @sebastianstanisagod

All Bucky tags: @peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @luxeavenger @cloudyfeelin @searchf0rtheskyline @keliiiiiiii @urmom4130 @Aussiegurl1234

1K notes · View notes

superherocaps · 8 months

Text

#the winter soldier #captain america: the winter soldier #tws #catws #captain america 2 #captain america the winter soldier #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel #marveledit #marvel edit #mcu #mcuedit #mcu edit

759 notes · View notes

imdefinitelyfloating · 3 months

Text

Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)

227 notes · View notes

tightyhighandtight · 2 months

Text

#vintage #tightywhities #tws #tighty whities #shirtless #embarrassing #embarrassment #embarrassed #tw in public #tws in public #changing #jockey

217 notes · View notes

underwhelmingalchemist · 1 year

Video

I accidentally discovered that this song and this scene work together perfectly and it brings me so much joy

#i discovered this while attempting to make an edit #and then it went together so well that i ended up just... not editing it #and now it's being posted here #alright tag time #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #tws #catws #catws edit

1K notes · View notes

mohish-ko · 27 days

Text

you have to change clothes for mission Bucky, even if the suit is too tight, you're already a pro

#buckynat #winter widow #james and natalia #artists on tumblr #bucky barnes #winter soldier #thunderbolts #mcu fanart #mcu #bucky fanart #art #tws #fanart

181 notes · View notes

notafunkiller · 1 month

Text

The fact Sam keeps calling Bucky Winter Soldier in such heartwarming ways & contexts ("Uncle Winter Soldier" & "Winter Soldier diet") >>>

This was the message & the point of Bucky's story in TFATWS: accepting he is the Winter Soldier & will be TWS forever + taking control over the name & everything related to it.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #tfatws #winter soldier #tws #sam wilson #the falcon and the winter soldier

469 notes · View notes

barnesafterglow · 1 month

Text

night shift

summary: your growing fame becomes too much for bucky

pairing: actor!bucky barnes x singer!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: fame au, dual pov, unreliable narrators, idk how the grammys work (clearly), angst angst angst, steve is a good friend, bucky is Going Thru It, if you think this is joe + taylor coded you're prob right, directly inspired by night shift by lucy dacus

a/n: yearly fic, dedicated to new lovers

masterlist - i no longer have a tag list but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to get updates! 🤍

You shoved him off of you, heart racing, breaths coming fast. You had said Bucky’s name, had whispered it in your most intimate moment, and now you needed to leave.

You said nothing else, gathering up your clothes and pulling them on as quickly as you could.

“Wha-”

The door slammed behind you, cold winter winds whipping around you as you realized you’d left your jacket on the hook by the door. It was your favorite, but one you were okay sacrificing as long as you didn’t have to face your embarrassment anymore.

Huffing a breath you could see in front of your face, you called an Uber - at least you had remembered your phone - and paced anxiously a block away from his building, hoping and praying he wouldn’t follow you out.

The entire ride home your mind spiraled until you turned off your phone, terrified this would make headlines already and, let’s be honest, no one would be surprised if it did. You hated that was the life you lived. As if your breakup with Bucky hadn’t already been tabloid fodder for weeks now, the public speculating every detail and warping every comment and photo posted. You had taken to keeping off social media altogether in the time since, trying to disguise your outings as much as possible and take back alleys to recordings and friends’ houses.

Your biggest supporter through all of this, surprisingly, had been Steve - Bucky’s best friend. He hadn’t been your friend first, sure, but he had become like a brother to you nonetheless, and he knew the situation better than anyone. You knew he still talked to Bucky just the same and, while that stung a little, you couldn’t fault him for being there for his childhood best friend too.

Which is how you ended up outside his apartment the very next morning, clad in your typical-as-of-late attire of a hoodie and a hat and sunglasses. It was also how you came face to face with Bucky for the first time since that fateful night.

“I didn’t come to sit here and watch you stare at your feet, James.” You stood from his couch, starting to seethe with pent up anger from your gradually failing relationship, all to end up here. What did he want? To absolve his guilt and shake hands and everything would be fine?

No. You had been the victim of his petty remarks and anxious jealousy for so long. You wouldn’t let him think he deserved your time when he didn’t respect the person you had become.

Your anger flashed back to the week before, the last time you had been seen out in public together as he was breaking up with you at your favorite coffee shop, where he had paid for your drink and you gave him a hesitant kiss, even though you knew it was inevitably coming. He had led you to a table in the corner and proceeded to tell you that he was sorry but he couldn’t do this anymore, it was too much for him - you were too much for him. Okay. That’s all you said was “okay” before you pushed out of the chair and walked around the city until the sun went down.

By the time you got home that night, the headlines were already speculating your breakup, though neither of you had yet to shed a single tear.

Bucky blinked as you shuffled on Steve’s doorstep, eyes wide and contemplating the quickest escape. He didn’t blame you.

He had admittedly not handled your breakup the best; in fact, he regretted it almost immediately at the stricken look on your face, clearly not expecting it. He didn’t blame you for that, either, seeing as it had slipped out in a moment of panic.

You had gained a lot of fame over the course of your relationship, even more than him, and he didn’t quite know how to cope with it. And so the words had poured out, unable to be taken back, and here you were, weeks later, still at odds.

He thought every night of how to make it up to you. Public displays weren’t your thing and you had blocked his number the night of your big fight, so that was out of the question, and he didn’t fancy showing up to your house only to have the door slammed in his face either.

But now, now maybe that you were here on the most neutral ground you could stand on, maybe he could keep his foot out of his mouth and apologize. Words stirred in his hindsight, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your face morphed through the stages of grief in record time. Then, just as he was about to speak, Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him back into the house. Relief flooded your face as you drifted out of his sight, and he realized this probably wasn’t going to be as easy to take back as he thought.

“Buck,” Steve said as the two of them turned around the corner. “You need to leave.”

Bucky felt his face do something awful, a mixture of confusion and guilt, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. He simply nodded and kept his head down as he shrugged on his jacket and passed by you in the doorway.

He could hear the soft sound of your sobs as the front door clicked shut.

Songwriting could be as easy as breathing and as hard as climbing a mountain. Right now, the words flooded out of you like a tap of water.

And so did the tears, staining your notebook paper and smearing ink, but still in your heart you knew you would never forget these lyrics - these words that so painstakingly came from your soul and laid it bare.

As you finished the last verse, you took a deep breath, sucked up the tears, and called Natasha.

“Steve, I need to talk to her,” Bucky whined over a beer in a rundown bar in Brooklyn.

“No, you don’t.”

“I can fix it, I know I can.”

“I don’t think you can, Buck.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “She’s trying to move on. Don’t ruin that for her.”

“But-”

“No.”

Bucky mimicked Steve’s sigh and leaned back in his chair. It had been increasingly hard to justify his decision to end things with you. He didn’t know what he was thinking and he regretted every moment of it since then.

“Do you think she misses me?” Bucky looked so hopeful, but he could see the sorrow in Steve’s eyes.

“I don’t know.”

The Grammys, the fucking Grammys, and you were performing. You were nominated for a couple, and the Academy had asked you to sing - preferably a new song - in honor of that.

Natasha wrapped you in a hug, twirled you around, and announced you were going out to celebrate. You hesitantly said yes, knowing the press would be everywhere and there was always the possibility of seeing Bucky.

But fuck him. This was your moment.

Which is how you ended up at your favorite dive bar in Brooklyn. Your first mistake.

It was your favorite because Bucky had taken you there so many times. But you couldn’t think of another place you would celebrate than the place where so much inspiration and so many lyrics had come from.

You didn’t scan the room as you walked in with your hand clutching Nat’s, the rest of your small circle of friends following close behind. Your second mistake.

Walking straight to the bar, you didn’t notice Bucky in the far corner, watching your every move. It wasn’t until you were a few drinks in, feeling the celebration kick in, that you spotted him.

At first, you intended to ignore him. This was your time, your night, your moment. He didn’t get the spoil that.

That is, until you went to the bathroom and he trailed you into the dimly lit hallway.

“Baby,” he whispered, his voice a harsh rasp of beer and no sleep. “I’ve missed you.”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest.

You weren’t prepared to see him tonight, not that you ever were these days. But tonight of all nights, the one that should have been carefree and fun and a glittery memory for years to come, was smeared with anger and heartbreak as you spun to face him.

“What the fuck,” you snapped as his fingers grazed your bare arm. Immediately you felt bad, seeing the hurt on his face, and your expression softened. “Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.” The catch in his voice broke your heart, your own watery eyes matching his. For just a moment.

It took you too long to come to your senses - this was the man who had shattered your heart without a second thought - but he was already so close to you. His body only inches from your own, his hot breath fanning your face, and goddamnit you missed him. You missed him so much that your heart broke all over again.

Your mind cycled through a thousand different thoughts all at once: get away, come closer, touch me, keep your hands off. You couldn’t decide what you wanted in the moment.

You were so, so angry, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to him. His hands settled on your waist as the lights overhead flickered. Your hand pressed gently to his cheek, completely of its own volition. Suddenly, you were tracing the planes of the face you had once known so well. He looked older now, like your time apart had aged him, yet his was still as handsome as the day you had first laid eyes on him.

His eyes locked with yours, and neither of you said a word - not him to ask, not you to stop him - as he leaned in to kiss you.

It should have felt like a victory - it did feel like a victory - but there was something else there. Something dark and twisted and Bucky couldn’t figure out if it was coming from you or him.

The kiss could have lasted moments or a lifetime, he didn’t really know. All he knew was one second you were holding him close to you and the next you were shoving him off.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” your voice came out in a whisper, like you didn’t want to draw attention from the steadily growing crowd of the bar. He supposed you didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You nodded at his words, your fingers pressed to your lips like you could still feel him there. “I’ll just go.”

You nodded again, your eyes vacant, and he made his way back to the main room of the bar. He looked back in time to see you slump against the wall, and he knew that you were thinking of a way to erase any trace of him on you.

The stage lights came on, you strummed your guitar and started to sing.

The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit.

You let the lyrics you poured your heart into spill out across the stage. Still, somehow - in the crowd of hundreds of faces - you spotted Bucky.

This time, it didn’t make your heart clench. Didn’t make you shed a tear or run away.

No. This time, it empowered you. Let him hear the lyrics he inspired. Let him feel that pain of your words and feel the hole in your heart where he had broken it. Where you were now healing.

Bucky watched as you sang, and you were mesmerizing. He could feel the echoes of hurt in your words, the hole in your heart he had put there. He knew, despite the last time he saw you, that there was no making up. There was no fixing what was well beyond broken. No chance for him.

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers,

Dedicated to new lovers.

150 notes · View notes