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Hi! I'm currently looking for a vampire!bucky barnes fic where their families hated each other but they were in love and their families had sent out hitmen to kill the other. He survived but she didn't and so he had to wait for her to be reborn and remember him? It was a multi part fic and it was absolutely amazing!
It upsets me greatly that the fics i loved reading just a few months ago, are all gone cause the OP's deleted or changed their accounts. Does anyone know how I can find this fic?
It upsets me greatly that the fics i loved reading just a few months ago, are all gone cause the OP's deleted or changed their accounts. Does anyone know how I can find this fic?
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Did @softlyspector delete their account or just change their handle? They wrote a bunch of fics that I really wanna go back and read but it won't let me.
Welcome to my 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Header and banner by @sgt-seabass and dividers by @firefly-graphics. Check them out!
Main Masterlist | 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist (darker fics)
I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.
🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy’s faves
A/N: There are things I’m bound to get wrong about the 1940s and asylum’s, so please forgive me. There was also a lot of prejudice for people especially if they were gay, and there is a gay patient mentioned in the first chapter. If you’re uncomfortable with it please don’t read. Thank you!
Part 1: An Anomaly
1946 — St. Catherine’s Asylum
The heavy coating of stagnant rain water on the streets had nearly taken you out the moment you stepped onto the stone staircase of the building. The breath had been ripped from your lungs the moment you felt your feet slip.
You squealed in surprise and if it hadn't had been for the railing, you would have fallen on your backside. After righting yourself and fixing the starch nurse’s uniform you were deemed to wear, you unfurled your nearly broken umbrella and carried on.
You were rushing this morning, rushing into the front door of the asylum with your nurse's bag bouncing against your hip. Once you stepped through the door and shook off the umbrella twice, you had blown a curled piece of your hair out of your face.
“Close that damned thing right now!” One of the patients lingering near the door smoking—seemingly unbothered by the nurse who was supposed to be watching him—barked a demand. “Don’t you know opening an umbrella indoors is bad luck, you daft girl!”
You could have responded with ire at the man wearing faded blue pinstriped pyjamas, many other nurses had. I like other nurses, you knew he wasn’t mad, you knew he wasn’t the kind of man who lost his mind over drink or injury. He was a man who was stalwart in his sexuality and attraction to men, and for that, he was committed.
“Good morning, Mr. Samson.” You closed the umbrella and folded it up, adhering to his superstitions while offering him a small smile.
Mr. Lyle Samson was a man with streaky black hair and rather odd coloured eyes—one almost iridescent blue and the other brown—a crooked nose from it being broken, and thinly pressed lips. He was a cantankerous man, one who had grown more ire-some from the treatment he had received in the asylum. The doctors held little care for the patients, even less for men like him, and as it was, he had suffered as well at the hands of his family.
“Your lipstick is a mess, girl. Fix yourself.” He lifted the cigarette to his lips, inhaling the Camel brand smoke and exhaling from the side of his mouth. He had glanced you over, once more, before he extended his hand and clutched onto your wrist. He squeezed once then relaxed and squeezed again, a telltale signal he had used when he wanted to send a message.
“There’s someone new.” He mumbled under his breath, inching forward while staring you down with his blue and brown eyes. “A famous fella.”
“Famous?” You looked past him to the first floor nurses station, toward the nurse who was disposed to be monitoring him. “Someone famous?”
“Used to be, before the damned shit-hole government stripped him of his title.” He turned his head and spat a few inches from your feet, the aftermath of sucking back a Camel cigarette. “He’s in the men’s ward, hates the doctors.”
“Mr. Samson, smoke is over!” The haughty nurse who had been on monitoring duty for the Lyle Samson started her approach. You could hear the clack of her heels on the aged and worn wood floor, the heady stride of her feet as she rushed toward him.
You knew that atmosphere wasn’t kind to men like him, men who hadn’t wanted a traditional life that fit society’s norm’s in the 1940s. He was a man who was attracted to men, and for that, he was punished by both the authorities and his family.
“He’s fine, he was telling me about a new patient—“ you rose to his defence, vocally, and had immediately been chided by the nurse.
“He is not fine.” Her voice darkened, and her eyes narrowed explicitly toward you with a tempestuous manner. “He is finished his cigarette, and you need to head to the men’s ward.”
Your breath had hitched in your throat, your hands tightened around the handle of the umbrella. Your nails dug into the varnish of the wood, though not deep enough to leave a mark, your mind immediately racing. The men’s ward was no nurses’ top choice when doing their rounds, and there was often a lack of willing volunteers. For you to be assigned to the men’s ward, you knew it was some kind of hazing because you were the newest.
They would hand you over to the men on a silver platter, leaving you to the men, who were frequently mad and violent. While there were some who were left solely on lockdown and very rarely got to spend time in the common area, others were left to roam—within reason. You had spent time in the children’s ward, which was a close second to the least desired floor, and the least amount of time on the women’s ward.
“Me—“
“I don’t have time to argue, Nurse L/N.” She cut you off with a stern and harsh bite, directing her inability to care beyond base empathy toward you. “Now.”
Your feet carried you in a rush, moving you near the staircase that led to the men’s ward. You nearly tripped over your feet before you had even taken the first step. Your hand rest upon the wooden railing that would take you up the winding staircases. You would wander through doors that were locked every night until you got to the fourth floor, which was where the men’s ward was.
The asylum was laid out in 5 massive floors that extended through winding hallways that were dimly lit by old windows. On the main floor was the receptionist’s and the warden’s office. The doctor’s offices for the children’s and men’s ward were on the main floor, unlike on the women’s floor. The doctors themselves had no special interest in spending more time than what was necessary in those areas.
The women’s unit was on the third floor above the laundry, kitchen, medical examination and treatment rooms on the second floor. Next had come the children’s floor that was not nearly comforting enough for kids left behind or admitted. The fourth floor was dedicated to the men that were admitted and held in their own contained unit, like the children.
And then there was the fifth floor that was exclusively held and dedicated to the incurables. They were the men, women, and children who were so manic and wild, deemed impossible to fix, that they should be locked away and forgotten about. Lyle Samson was unfortunately going to be moved to the incurable’s floor after Doctor Rollins had determined his sick pleasures could not be fixed, and all attempts were feeble.
“The men’s ward…” your feet carried you slowly, every step felt as if there was an ounce of lead sewn into your flesh.
You moved through the staircases from floor to floor, starting from the main floor to the fourth. You stopped at the double set of wooden doors with frosted glass. The lettering for the men’s ward was scrawled in faux painted gold—a decorative addition to make people believe that this place wasn’t as nefarious as it actually seemed. You reached up and placed your hand upon the wood and pushed slowly, just enough to be able to slip through the door and into the ward.
The door felt heavy behind you as it shut with a bang, the force tipping you forward. All the weight of your body shifted to the front of your feet, more specifically your toes. You had nearly toppled, almost flailing entirely, until you felt a steady hand on your arm acting as a support pillar. However, you were soon to learn that it wasn’t just one hand on you but another, a large warm hand on the small of your waist that was immediately followed by a voice.
“The door always sticks,” you could only describe the voice as honey-laced whiskey, something deep and smooth but afflicted with a weariness, “you’re not the first nurse it’s nearly knocked over.”
The honey-laced whiskey voice belongs to someone you’ve never possibly imagined would be in a place like this. The man whose face was plastered across magazines—who had comic books created about him and had even starred in movies to stir the morale of the country during the war—was standing so close to you, you could see the green in his blue eyes.
His blonde hair was brushed out of his face and styled like you’d seen so many times before. There was a firmness to his jaw that allocated your attention before it was quickly drawn to the rest of him. His shoulders seemed unnaturally broad, and his chest was firm, despite the starchy grey uniforms the patients wore. You could easily detect the size of the American hero who had liberated men in Europe, and saved thousands.
The hero, who had been a beacon of light and hope, was squandered after the war. The papers called him mad with grief, a man who had seen the horrors of war and lost all sense of self. It happened after he had lost one member of the unit he led. The Howling Commandos lost Sergeant Barnes, or Bucky as he was known as, and Captain Rogers was never the same.
Although standing here now, looking at him as he held you steady after you nearly fell, you see none of the madness he was accused of. There was nothing whatsoever in his blue-green eyes to make you think he was mad enough to be here.
“Thank you…Captain Roger’s…” you spoke with hesitancy and the sound of your voice was enough to break the spell he had you under. In a moments notice, you’d been called to the nurses desk, breaking the firm yet gentle hold he had on you.
You turned your back to him and fixed your nurses cap, only recognizing his eyes on you when you felt heat starting to grow in your belly.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I need help finding a fic! It's one where Loki turns Bucky into a child while the team is on a mission and reader has to take care of him. I can't for the life of me find it anywhere! Please help
I need help finding a fic! It's one where Loki turns Bucky into a child while the team is on a mission and reader has to take care of him. I can't for the life of me find it anywhere! Please help
All of my works including Grumpy Sunshine and Taylor Swift Inspired Series!
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
Steve Rogers Masterlist
Sam Wilson Masterlist
Series Masterlist (Because Not Everything I Write Is Grumpy Sunshine or Taylor Swift Related)
Grumpy Sunshine Series
· Including Two Sides of The Same Coin, The Twin Flame, Grumpy Sunshine one-shots, and drabbles.
Inspired By Taylor Swift
The AnonymityIsFun Loves Tangled List
🥇 Comment Hall of Fame 🥇
Coming Soon (What I'm Working On)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You meet Bucky while he’s out walking Alpine in the city. It’s love at first sight and to make it even better he just opened up an Animal Rescue, Shelter to Solider. But will his past stand in the way of him finally finding his home.
2. Welcome Home… Soldat? by @winterarmyy
Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader
Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
3. Winter Makes Ice by @subwaysurf45
Bucky x Hydra Experiment!Reader
you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.
4. ice ice baby by @endless-summer-soldier
College Hockey Player!Bucky x College Figure Skater!Reader
Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...
5. Right + Click + Save by @syntheticavenger
Bucky x Reader
Working from home has it’s perks, especially when it comes to helping a technologically unsavvy super soldier try to navigate a dating site.
6. Lonely Night by @marvelouslizzie
Roommate!Bucky x Reader
Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.
7. Like Breathing by @bucky-fricking-barnes
Bucky x Shifter!Reader
Bucky’s life in Cove is far from perfect, mostly because Cove’s residents want nothing more than to scare him away. Luckily for you, Bucky isn’t easily scared off.
8. Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella
Bucky x Avenger!Reader
Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.
jbbartram-illu
ellievsbear
jacobvanloon
dailybridgerton
