figtreesandmoonlight

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Catch Me, I'm Falling

Bucky x Reader oneshot

Summary: You tend to get hooked on things. It's part of your ADHD. Some things just stick in your brain. And at the minute, it's the self-defence training Bucky's got you doing after you got mugged. And you love it. But you love it so much that you start skipping meals, missing sleep, and deciding that redbull counts as a foodgroup to make time to train. So when everything in the gym becomes fuzzy and starts spinning, the only thing you want is your super-soldier boyfriend to make it better.

TWs: ADHD mentions/hyperfixation to a detrimental effect, fainting.

Jab, hook, block, switch. 

You’d been at it for hours. Ever since you’d been mugged a few weeks ago, walking over to Bucky’s apartment just after sundown, Bucky Barnes had been a little overprotective. Okay, very overprotective. But it filled your heart a little bit, made you feel warm and cozy inside every time his hand rested on your lower back and he dipped his head to whisper a check in into your ear. 

You’d shown up to his place shaking, mascara running down your cheeks, heart pounding fast, hands shaking uncontrollably. Bucky’s world fell apart the moment he’d opened the door and seen you standing there. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck in his gut and had immediately blamed himself. You were shaken up, but unharmed, except for a few bruises on your arms. Bucky had iced and pressed kisses into them like he was searching, begging, for forgiveness. 

It had taken a week to get him to stop escorting you everywhere and another week to get him to stop blaming himself. That was when you’d agreed to training. Just some basic self-defence. You were no avenger, and you didn’t want to be. But you saw Bucky’s worried look that followed you out of each door. He’d tried to get you to learn right when you’d first started dating, warning you his life was dangerous and that he wanted to know you were safe. You’d told him he was all the protection you’d ever need. But then you’d been mugged. So yeah, some basic self-defence couldn’t hurt. Plus, you’d been meaning to get back to the gym anyway. It would be fun! 

And it was. You trained with Sam and/or Torres three days a week, depending on who was at the tower and who wasn’t. You’d told Bucky a condition for you starting was that he didn’t train you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. You did. With your life. But accidents happened in training, planned or not, and you knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he accidentally hurt you. You didn’t need to put that on his conscience. You wouldn’t risk it. 

And as you thought, you loved the sessions! Sam and Joaquin were great teachers; the latter’s excitement and enthusiasm balanced out the former’s seriousness and commitment to technique. You’d leave the classes with your muscles aching in the best way and your body tingling with a kind of aliveness you didn’t know you could feel. You buzzed. Literally, you felt like you were buzzing when you left training. You’d come home every time to show Bucky what you’d learnt with an excited smile on your face, and stories of Sam throwing Joaquin around demonstrating things. 

And Bucky absolutely loved it. He’d let you throw him around the room and pretend to be an attacker so you could practice. He couldn’t help the smiles that bloomed on his face when your eyes lit up under his praise. He loved that you were safe now. But above all? He loved you. 

You were both loving your new training regimen. But that was the problem. You were both loving it so much that it let you ignore the…problems…that came with it. The lack of sleep started because you were missing work hours for training, and needed to catch up on the time somewhere. You missed meals, accidentally, sure, but it was still happening. You’d be running from the office to training, forgetting to pack dinner because you were up late last night catching up on work, grabbing a red-bull and deciding that ‘would do’ as fuel. Plus, you didn’t want to stop your dance classes and hobbies just because you were training with the literal Avengers now. Somehow, you were suddenly out every night of the week, either training or dancing. You lost time to meal prep. You forgot to grab snacks on your way out the door. You’d leave training buzzing, energy only added to by the energy drinks that were fueling your training.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew training was supposed to be making you feel stronger, not weaker. You knew that the world wasn’t supposed to spin every single time you stood up. You knew constant headaches and three hours of sleep a night weren’t good. You knew logically that trying to keep juggling all the things you were doing wasn’t going to work forever. But you had it all under control. You genuinely thought you did. You’d spoken to your mentor about it, the man you’d gone to with everything since you were diagnosed with ADHD. Sure, you may not have given him the exact details, but you’d learnt that you were someone who ultimately just did better having more things on than not. It was how your brain liked to run. It was how you worked.

You didn’t realise that Bucky had started to get concerned. You’d happily eaten the apple that had somehow materialised in your bag for lunch. You signed in relief when you saw the laundry had been done and thanked Bucky with a home-cooked dinner that you definitely didn’t have the time to make. You didn’t realise that the concern in his eyes when you left the room had changed from one for your safety to one worried about how hard you were pushing yourself. Bucky had mentioned in passing that you could drop down to two days a week with the guys if you wanted to. You’d laughed him off, reminding him how much you were enjoying it.

You stood up from your desk, scrunching your eyes shut as the pounding behind your eyes made itself known and the room tilted and swam again. Somewhere, rationally, you knew that you were getting close to pushing a bit too far. It had happened in the past, and you were sure it would happen again in the future, no matter how hard you watched yourself, but you thought you could hold it off a bit longer. The weekend was just around the corner. If you could make it through today and tomorrow, you had two days to catch up on lost sleep and the mountain of tasks you had to do. And meal prep. And spend time with Bucky. And grocery shopping. And dance class. 

Hands on your desk to steady yourself, you blinked your eyes open, standing for a second to make sure you weren’t gonna pass out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen at work - god, how embarrassing. As you straightened up, you pulled a can of redbull up to your lips, finishing it with a gulp before grabbing your training bag and slipping into your trainers. You heard the rustling of something inside your bag, smiling to yourself when you caught the glimmer of your favourite protein bar with a big yellow post-it in your bag. 

‘Caffeine isn’t food! Nor is this really, but it’s better than nothing :) … seriously, doll - real food sometime today. Love you, JBB x’ 

You smiled fondly down at the bar in your hand, shaking your head a little and laughing as you pulled off the post-it, hanging it on your desk divider and ripping open the bar. The first taste of oats and sugar hit your mouth, and you groaned a little in delight. You would eat real food today, you knew you needed to, and that your loving boyfriend would give you his concerned, disapproving look if you didn't. You’d just have to do it after training. 

The blast of cold air as you left your office building made the world tilt again, and the dull pain behind your eyes became more intense. Maybe you were coming down with something. You wrapped your scarf tighter around you, grumbling like a gremlin as you burrowed into the soft material and walked to the tower. You didn’t really remember getting there, or changing, but you must have done it at some point, because the next thing you know, you’re standing in front of a slightly worried-looking Sam Wilson, who’s asking, ‘did you hear any of what I just said?’ Embarrassment coloured your cheeks as you shook your head, an apologetic smile pulling at your lips, ‘Sorry, I guess I’m just a bit spaced out today.’ The frown on Sam’s face was now met with a look of concern on Joaquin’s, who was sitting over by the water cooler and stood up as he said, ‘Too spaced out to train?’ Sam jumped in, ‘There’s no shame in it, but we gotta keep you safe. Don’t want Barnes on our asses, he’d kill us if something happened to you.’ 

‘I-I don’t know, maybe?’ You started replying, realising that the world around you was spinning again, and that it wasn’t stopping. And Jesus, it was hot in here. Why couldn’t you catch your breath? FRIDAY’s voice crackled to life above you all. ‘I’m monitoring an increased heart rate, breathing and low blood pressure. Sargent Barnes is on his way up to this floor, but might I suggest you pause training and sit down?’ 

The worry in Sam’s face turned into panic as he started walking towards you, forcing a calm persona on his face as he shot both arms out, ready to stabilise you. You hadn’t realised you were swaying. Joaquin likewise started crossing the room. You turned your head between them, ‘I, uh, I dont - I think-‘ black spots were clouding your vision. The sound of the elevator opening pulled your head towards it, making the room spin even more violently. Head pounding, heart racing, all you wanted was to be with Bucky. He would help. He always did. 

Bucky was running towards you, worry painting his face as fear ran through his steel blue eyes. You tried to take a step towards him, tried to get your body to cooperate, but when Bucky was only a step away, your knees crumpled beneath you. You couldn’t even move your hands to catch yourself. 

Strong arms caught you just before your body collided with the floor, pulling you into the warmth of someone's chest. The last thing you saw was Bucky, looking down at you with horror in his eyes, his warm, calloused hands cupping your face, him saying something desperate above you, but the black patches of vision grew and you fell into them. 

You were floating. Bobbing up and down in a warm sea. Your senses came back to you in parts; your vision combined with a blistering headache behind your eyes, your ears ringing before you could make out any sound. But when you do, waves of comfort roll over you, because somewhere near you, Bucky Barnes is speaking to you. His hushed promises sound like a prayer, repeating over and over again that ‘I got you, baby, you’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.’ 

You’re in Bucky’s arms, some part of your mind realises. That’s where the bobbing was coming from. Hmm, maybe you’d fallen asleep watching a film, and he was carrying you to bed. It’d happened before.  You just snuggled tighter into his chest, pressing into his warmth when the hand on your back shifts slightly, fingers brushing the side of your face. You struggle to force your eyes open to look up at him. The dopey smile on your face dissolves almost instantly when you see how scared he looks. 

‘Hey, baby, you’re gonna be just fine. You don’t gotta worry, you’re gonna be okay.’

The words wash over you like a calm wave, but before you can reply, Bucky walks the pair of you into a room with bright, sterile lights that make the pain in your head worse. You grimace, trying to burrow deeper into Bucky, and you can’t help but flinch as someone pulls your body from its comfort in Bucky’s arms. 

‘It’s okay,’ he whispers above you while someone lays you down on something soft. ‘I’m right here. Not going anywhere doll.’ You feel his hands, the signature of warmth and coolness in one, wrapping around your own. You forced your eyes to open again despite their protest at the bright, clinical lights above you. Everything’s fuzzy, and you still feel like you’re floating, but you blink up at Bucky, your face crumpling into concern, seeing how worried he looks. You frown and try to sit up, to reach for him, to comfort him, but his hands are on you before you can, gently guiding you back down to the bed. 

‘Nope, you gotta lie here for me right now, okay?’ 

In your daze, you still don’t understand what’s going on, why Bucky looked so worried. ’What happened?’ You croak out, looking up at him, and hissing as something sharp hits your arm opposite Bucky. Your head turns to the source of the pain; someone had put a needle in your arm. You try to form a word, but only let out a mumbled mesh of sounds before Bucky’s human hand is ever so gently tilting your head to look at him again.

‘You passed out,’ Bucky softly tells you, before he sighs out, ‘you scared the shit out of me.’ 

You go to say something, but Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, softly calming you, promising he isn’t going anywhere. ‘Shh, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Doll. You don’t gotta say anything right now, just rest yeah? I’ll be here when you wake up.’ 

You look into Bucky’s eyes once more, something in his face that is a merge of sadness and comfort convinces you he’s telling the truth. You nod into his hands, letting the darkness pull you under again.

The next time you wake up, the world comes to you more complete and with less pain. The steady beeping of the heart rate monitor and soft light of the evening greeting you as you woke up. Slowly, you blink your eyes open. Your body feels heavy and uncooperative, but peaceful. 

‘You know, I don’t think they mean the whole ‘falling’ part of falling in love thing literally.’ 

You turn your head to see Bucky sitting at your side, his hand wrapped around yours, his eyes red and tired, but less scared than you remember last seeing them. You don’t know what to say. You know that Bucky’s only joking, trying to deflect the panic he’d been feeling, but shame flushes your cheeks nonetheless. Before you think of even a fake laugh, Bucky’s leaning over you, pressing a kiss to your head, one of promise and devotion, of love and care. He whispers above you, ‘You really scared me, doll.’ Your hand without a needle in it comes up to cradle his face, holding him for a second. 

As he pulls away, the memories of what had happened flood your brain. You’d passed out in the gym training. Bucky had carried you here. You let out a groan, one of embarrassment and frustration. Before you even realise it, tears are welling in your eyes, threatening to fall. Bucky sees them and, in an instant, has moved to sit on the edge of your bed, his hand cradling your cheek. 

‘Hey, hey,’ he jumps in immediately, ‘I’m not mad. You’re okay, we’re okay.’ 

‘I just-’ you swallow, ‘I thought I was on top of things. I thought I had it under control. I…’ you trail off into quiet, not knowing how to finish your sentence. Bucky kisses your forehead again, before replying gently, ‘I know. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. I know you can look after yourself doll. I promise, I know.’ You nod, the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. ‘I put too much on your plate, training too many days a week for too many hours on top of work and everything else. This is on me, doll. You were just tryin’ to make me happy; I’m sorry, I pushed you too far.’ 

You wipe the tears, flinching slightly at the pull from the IV line. ‘No, no, this isn’t on you. Hey, it’s okay. I like it, hell, I love training! I just,’ you sigh, your lip wobbling as you tried to calm down, ‘I let myself get overwhelmed, and I tried to barrel through. I thought I was on top of it, and I wasn’t. I thought I was proving something to everyone, to myself.’ 

‘You never have to prove anything to anyone, yourself included, love. Especially not when it leads to you passing out in the gym. I just - I should have seen this happening, and I didn’t. I let you push yourself too far, and you could’ve got hurt.’

‘It’s okay, Bucky. I promise, it’s okay. I got hooked on training and we both missed it - this isn’t on either of us alone. I thought I was okay, and this happened.’ Your hands clasp Bucky’s face now, gently guiding it until he’s looking back at you, ‘But we caught it. You caught it, okay. You saved me, literally. I’m going to be alright, baby, I promise.’ 

Bucky slowly nods, his own hands coming up to his face to match yours. He slowly brings your hands to his lips as he places chaste kisses onto the palm of each. You sit up, Bucky moving in an instant to help guide you as you pull him into a kiss, delicate, tender, united, before you come apart, simply resting foreheads against each other. 

After a while, and without a word, you scoot over in the bed, opening up a space and gesturing for Bucky to join you. He looks at you tentatively, but your raised eyebrow shuts him up quickly enough. Careful of the various wires attached to you, Bucky gingerly climbs into the too-small bed next to you, helping you shift until your head’s resting on his chest. His fingers move to absent-mindedly brush through your hair. 

‘You scared the crap out of the guys, too, by the way.’ You turn your head to look up at Bucky. ‘Joaquin made sure you got down here and has literally been hiding from me since. Sam hasn’t stopped standing guard outside your room, keeps texting me apologies.’ You let out a chuckle, nuzzling closer into Bucky, ‘they’re silly,’ you say fondly. ‘They are,’ Bucky agrees, ‘but they care about you. I’ve never seen Joaquin look so upset before, you know?’ You hum into Bucky, tired once more. ‘Although,’ Bucky carries on, ‘if you ever pass out from training again, I will kill them.’ 

‘Bucky!’ You cry in a mock-outrage.

‘What? I can’t have my best girl passing out on me again.’

‘Hmm, I’ll do my best.’ You jokingly promise. But Bucky’s face above you becomes serious once more. His hand continues running peacefully through your hair, ‘just so you know,’ he says, ‘you’re on bed rest until further notice. No work, no training. Just three meals a day, a shit tonne of water and move marathons.’ 

‘And will my very devoted, loving boyfriend be joining me?’ You ask.

‘Oh doll, I’m never leaving your side ever again.’ 

You let out a laugh at Bucky’s words, but you know a part of him is deadly serious. Once you’re better, you’re gonna have to use some of the tricks Sam gave you to sneak out. But honestly? As you cuddle back into Bucky, letting his fingers run through your hair, you couldn’t think of anything better. Just you, Bucky, soft blankets and movies. Yep. You weren’t exactly glad you passed out, but if this was the result, it wasn’t all bad. 

AN - I kind of feel like this reader is the same as my reader in Take A Break. If people seem to like it then maybe it'll turn into a series...we shall see ! Much love as ever for anyone reading & sharing x

[figtreesandmoonlight]

🥹🥹🥹 eeee thank you so much !!!!!! I LOVE ur work so this means a lot !! ❤️

The Small Things Pt 2

Summary: You thought you could survive it. Endure the bruises, the fear, the silence. But now Bucky knows and is ready to tear the world apart to keep you safe. The fight isn’t over, not when the past still knows your name, but with the Avengers at your back and Bucky’s hand in yours, maybe this time you won’t have to fight alone.

read P1 here

Trigger Warnings: domestic abuse, violence, nightmares/PTSD

Bucky Barnes had been sat still long enough that his back ached and his eyes were sore. But he barely noticed it. The silent vigil he kept over your sleeping form wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He followed the slow rise and fall of your chest like it was a prayer. Watched your eyes flutter in your sleep like it was a hymn. Sleeplessness was nothing new to Bucky, but watching over you, guarding you, so that you could have just one safe night's sleep? That was something he’d hoped he would never have to do for you. That you’d never experience something that meant he’d need to do this.

But you needed him. So he’d be damned if he went anywhere else. 

He may have been sat silently, but inside, his world was unravelling. There’s no way to describe the rage and anguish that was tearing through Bucky. He replayed every moment. Every single time he’d been in a room with Mark, the first time you’d introduced him, begging Bucky to ‘give him a chance’, the dinners, the films he left early. 

Where were the signs? What had he missed? How had he let this happen? How had he let this happen to you? The first person to make him feel normal. To make him feel alive. To make him feel whole. He’d let someone tear you down. Put their hands on you. Hurt you. He’d missed the small things that told him what was happening. The pulling away. The skipped nights out. You’d been forced to pull away from him. And he’d just let you. 

He wanted to cry, wrap you in his arms, break things, and kill Mark all at once. But his priority was you. It would always be you from now on. Never. He was never going to forgive himself for this. And he was never going to let Mark lay a single hand on you ever again. 

Bucky was pulled from his self-interrogation by the sound of a whimper. His head snapped immediately to your sleeping form. The sight nearly broke him. The panic and fear on your face, the way your body shifted in your sleep, hiding away from some invisible but remembered source of pain. Slurred, mumbled words fell from your lips. ‘No, please, please, not again. I promise it won't - AH!’ It was the cry of pain and the sight of a tear falling from your closed eyes that spurred Bucky into action.

He practically flew out of the chair he’d been sitting on, to be next to your sleeping form on the bed. He crouched at your side, and started calling to you. ‘You’re safe. You’re not there. Come back to me.’

You woke as another cry of pain left your body, sitting up immediately, every muscle in you tensed and ready to run, to hide, from wherever the pain was coming from. You scrambled backwards, up the bed, head hitting hard into the headboard behind you. Your eyes darted wildly around the room, looking for him. For Mark. 

‘Please, no, no, no.’ 

Your disoriented cries broke Bucky’s heart. He kept his words coming, tone soft, body calm, hands held up, trying to make himself look as least threatening as possible until you recognised where you are. 

‘No one’s going to hurt you. It’s me, it’s Bucky.’ He did everything he could to keep his tone level and calm, slowly coaxing your terrified mind back into reality, rather than the hellscape it had been trapped in. ‘You’re in my room at the compound. You’re safe here. You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you. I’m gonna keep you safe.’ 

That got through to you. Your eyes stopped scanning the room for threats and settled on the man in front of you. Bucky. You swallowed roughly, taking a deeper breath. Your head tilted slightly as, finally, you recognised him, recognised the room you were in. All at once, the tension in your body drained away as you melted into the bedding around you. Your breathing was still a little quick as Bucky, slowly, so you knew he wasn’t going to reach for you, moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He locked eyes with you, giving you a gentle nod, which you returned. 

‘There she is,’ he whispered out, offering you his hand, which you timidly accepted, shuffling over to him. Bucky let you lead the movement, slowly reaching him as you collapsed into a hug, your forehead resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you in a silent promise of safety. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you mumbled out. Bucky’s hand came, slowly, to rest under your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. 

‘Never be. Not with me.’ You nodded into his chest in response. You stayed like that for quite a while, letting your shot nervous system recognise the safety it was in. That you were safe. 

And with Bucky, you knew you were. But as the sun began to stream in through the cracks in his drawn curtains, reality wormed its way into your brain. Bucky knew. He wasn’t going to make you go back. Hell, he wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to. But where the hell did you go now? Before you could vocalise even the beginnings of your thoughts, Bucky noticed the storm whirring around in your brain.

‘Why don’t we go get some coffee?’ He asked softly. You forced a small smile onto your lips, nodding. He wants you out. You’re not surprised. You’re a hot mess who can’t even protect herself, and now you crashed in his bed and woke him up with a stupid nightmare. Of course he wanted you to leave. Your brain moved at a million miles an hour: ‘I can go make it. Why don’t you get into bed and sleep a bit, I can’t imagine how tired you must be. Give me like 5 minutes and I’ll be out of your-’

‘Woah, breathe, doll, breathe. I’m not tired. You don’t gotta make me coffee. And you sure as hell ain’t going anywhere.’ He spoke to you with the softness you would an injured kitten, trying with his words to promise you that you weren’t a burden, that you weren’t some inconvenience. ‘Let’s both go get some coffee, yeah?’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, as the sudden wave of anxiety that had crashed into you passed. You nodded, ‘O-okay.’

Bucky rose slowly, offering you his hand and helping you to your feet. The pair of you moved in silence to the kitchen, but your hands couldn’t help but fidget with the sleeves of Bucky’s oversized jumper from nerves. Bucky noticed. Of course he did. He slowly wrapped one of his arms around you, pulling you closer into his side, another promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. That you weren’t either.

You settled at one of the stools under the marble counter while Bucky moved with practised ease around the kitchen, checking you still took your coffee the same way as he pressed a few buttons on the coffee machine and it whirred to life, pouring you a cup. He repeated the actions before coming to sit next to you, pressing your favourite mug into your hands, warm and smelling of comfort. You took a sip and sighed softly, basking in the brief comfort and stillness of the moment. The sunlight, coffee and Bucky. It had once been such a common occurrence in your life, but now felt like a treasured, special moment, to be grasped with both hands and never let go. But there was a reason you were here, and you couldn’t ignore the truth forever. 

‘What am I gonna do, Bucky?’ You asked, looking up at him and brushing some hair behind your ear. You didn’t understand why Bucky looked so sad in response.

‘You’re not gonna do anything, Doll.’ Your heart sank into your stomach, but before you could say anything, Bucky carried on. ‘We are gonna sort this out. However you want. We can get your stuff and you can crash here or anywhere else as long as you need to. Or I can go get it on my own. I get it if you never wanna go back there. I can get you a hotel room if you don’t wanna explain to the team why you’re here. Or we can come up with a cover story. Whatever you want. But you have a home here as long as you want it. And I’ll do anything you want, but we’re getting you out, and I’m gonna make sure you never have to deal with that piece of shit ever again.’

You sat for a moment, letting Bucky’s words sink in. He wasn’t going to send you away. He was giving you an out. Not only an out. He was giving you a new life, safe, and away from the pain of a life with Mark. You felt the tears welling up, and did nothing to stop them falling as you nodded, a soft smile on your lips, a smile of relief and heartbreak all in one. 

‘That,’ your voice wobbled as you spoke, ‘that sounds good. I think - I think I wanna come with you to get my stuff. I think I need to be there, to do it myself. And I think I need to do it today? Before I lose my nerve’

‘Of course, doll. I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you.’

‘What do we do if he’s there?’

‘I’ll take care of it.’ 

Bucky’s answer was so simple, so decisive. You could only trust him. The thought of having to see Mark again terrified you. How would he react? What he would say? But you could see the promise in Bucky’s eyes. He would keep you safe, you knew it. He carried on, ‘How do you feel about me letting the team know what’s going on while you get ready? I can tell them as much or as little as you want.’ 

‘You can tell them. I just,’ you broke off, colour rising to your cheeks, ‘I just won’t want them looking at me like I’m weak.’

Bucky’s hand rested on your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes promising he spoke only the truth as he said, ‘You’re not weak. Hell, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through hell alone. But we’re here now. Let us help.’ 

‘Okay. That, that sounds okay.’ You finished your coffee, heading back to Bucky’s room to get showered and changed, while FRIDAY called the rest of the New Avengers and Sam to the kitchen. You didn’t want the sad looks, the pity. But you wanted the support. God, you needed it. And letting Bucky tell them made it feel slightly easier as an idea. 

So you stepped into the steaming hot water, letting it run over the bruises on your body, easing the dull ache as the scent of vanilla filled the air. You finally let the tears of relief pour through you with abandon. This was different to the tears last night. They were ones of grief, of mourning. But these? These meant hope. They meant you were getting out. So you let yourself feel the relief you’d been avoiding. Let yourself realise it was real. 

Stepping back into Bucky’s room, hair washed and wrapped in the fluffiest towel, you pulled open his wardrobe, taking a soft t-shirt and a pair of joggers out of it, the same kind of outfit he would lend you when you used to spend the night. You grimaced at the sight of the bruises on your arms. But you weren’t ashamed of them anymore. The way Bucky had kissed them last night turned them into battle scars. 

Without letting yourself think twice, you pulled the door open and walked back to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway and taking in the sight, the tension in the air, the team sat on the sofas, looking at Bucky. Ava had a tear running down her cheek. Sam looked stoic, composed, but you knew him well enough to recognise the rage behind his eyes. Alexi was pacing, Yelena sharpening a knife, John saying something about tactics. With a deep breath, you walked into the room fully, drawing their attention to you. 

The next second, Alexi had engulfed your form in the gentlest hug he had ever given in his life. ‘You are warrior, little scientist,’ he said, voice soft and low, meant only for your ears, ‘Let us fight alongside you now.’ You nodded up at the giant of a man with a tender smile, one that told them of your nerves, your fear, but also your relief and your trust. 

The rest of the team had stood now, not rushing to crowd you, but making space for you, letting you know that if you wanted them, they were there. You walked over to them, filling a space between Yelena and Sam on the sofa as the rest of the team sat with you. Without a word, Sam pulled you into his side in a hug, while Yelena whispered lowly, ‘You have us now. We will keep you safe. Whatever you need, we’re here.’ 

You squeezed her hand in response before Bucky cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him. ‘They’ve all offered to come, Doll. However you want them, in the car, in the apartment. Or they can stay here. It’s up to you.’ There’s no adequate way to describe the fullness of your heart in that moment. You thought you might burst as emotions filled you that you didn’t even know you could still feel. They had your back. All of them. And they wanted you here. 

‘Can they come, but stay in the car? I don’t know if he’ll be there, but  I don’t wanna cause a scene unless he tries anything.’ 

John said something that sounded like ‘he won’t even be able to try’, but you didn’t catch the full thing. Bucky jumped in before anyone else could say anything. ‘That sounds good. Are you ok if I come in with you, in case he’s already there?’ You nodded your head. Yes. You wanted Bucky everywhere. Anywhere and everywhere. You felt safe with him. You trusted him. 

From there, you let the team talk logistics that washed over you. You recognised the sounds, but knew you could trust them to plan. You just needed to think through what you needed. It wasn’t a lot. The rest of the team went to prep their gear - minimal, Bucky instructed - while Sam stayed with you, a quiet comfort, while you made a list. A few photos. Some clothes, but not many - they held too many memories. Some toiletries. The music from your mum. It would be quick. In and out. Then you would be free. 

Sam’s voice drew you from your thoughts. ‘If you need someone to talk to about all of this, you can come to me. Or if you want it to be someone else, I can find you someone. Just let me know.’ 

‘Thanks, Sammy,’ you replied, hugging him.  You were the only person in the world other than his nephews, he let call him that. 

‘Of course. I just - whatever you need, just let me know.’

‘Can we have a movie night tonight? Like we used to? With popcorn and chocolate?’

Sam’s rumbling laugh vibrated against your chest, ‘one film night coming up.’

A few quiet moments of comfort later, the team had all returned to the sofa area. They all looked more or less unarmed, and you decided not to probe. You trusted them to listen to Bucky for this. To follow your lead. To give what you needed, not more. No guns blazing. No wild punch-ups. 

Bucky was the last to enter, standing in front of you on the couch. He offered you a hand. ‘You ready doll?’ You took his hand, drawing in a deep breath, before standing, saying ‘yes’ as you did. 

The ride to your apartment was quiet. You, Bucky, Yelena and Sam were in one car, Alexi, John, Ava and Bob in one following close behind. Someone had turned the radio on, and you were thankful for the quiet, meaningless noise floating around you that stopped you thinking too hard about what you were about to do. 

You knew you were close as the streets Bucky drove through led you to what was once your home. But not anymore. Bucky pulled up outside your apartment building, softly letting you know there was ‘no rush’. That they would stay there as long as you needed, in the safety of the car. And if you realised you weren’t up for it today? They could always come back tomorrow. 

A minute passed. Then five. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the thoughts whirring like a hurricane in your brain. His car wasn't in its usual spot, so he probably wasn’t in. You just wanted it done with. So with another deep breath, you clenched your jaw and turned to Bucky. ‘I’m ready.’

With shaky hands, you opened your car door, sending a grateful smile to the team in the back seat and the car behind you. Bucky came to stand next to you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, giving you comfort and support in one. You let him guide you through the lobby and into the elevator. As the doors closed and the elevator started to rise, he spoke softly: ‘You’re safe. I promise. I know how hard this is. You’re doing so, so well.’

The elevator doors opened slowly, letting you and Bucky step out onto your floor. Bucky led the way to your door, never rushing you, but helping you along, knowing that you needed support through this. When you lifted the key out of your pocket, your hands shook. Without a word, Bucky’s larger hand closed around yours, helping you steady yourself as you put the key into the lock. Before you turned it, he whispered, ‘let me go in first, make sure it’s safe.’ You nodded in response. 

The door creaked open, revealing your front room. It had been destroyed. The coffee table was on its side with a leg broken off, lamps were shattered, books thrown across the floor, and, of course, bottles of beer scattered across the rug. But the lights were off. You let out a shaky sigh of relief at that. Still, you let Bucky go in first, waiting for him in the corridor as your heart nearly pulsed out of your chest. 

You jumped a little as Bucky reappeared in front of you. ‘It’s all clear, doll. You wanna come in? It’s not too late to change your mind.’ 

You gave Bucky a sad smile. ‘It’s okay. I knew something like this would happen when I didn’t text him or come home last night.’ Still, it hurt your heart to see the life you’d made scattered across the room in front of you. He’d done this before. But every other time, it’d been you having to put it back together again. But not this time. You didn’t have to cover for him anymore. Never had to clean up his mess ever again. 

You walked through the space like a ghost, as though you weren’t really there, Bucky following you close behind, protective and reassuring every step of the way. You walked into your bedroom and pulled a bag out of the closet, filling it methodically, grabbing only the essentials while Bucky stayed by the door, giving you some privacy and keeping watch over you.

A door slammed. Glass shattered. Shit. 

‘Where the fuck are you?!’

Your entire body tensed, your knuckled turning white around the strap of the bag you were holding. Your head snapped to Bucky, panic rising in you, breaths shortening and turning into gasps of fear. He looked straight back at you. Your hands were shaking. Your feet wouldn’t move. He was here. He was here, and he was going to hurt you. You were never going to get away. Never going to be safe. 

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You fucking slut, bringing your boytoy here.’ Mark spat at you, sending violent gestures your way, ‘Bet you already got on your knees for him. Let him use you like the pathetic bitch you are.’ 

In the space of a second, Bucky had put his body between you and Mark, who, red-faced and fists clenched, now stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He held the broken top of a glass bottle, sharp and deadly, clenched in his fist. 

Bucky’s voice cut through the room, jaw and fist clenched, low and deadly. ‘You’re not going to take one more step towards her.’

‘Oh yeah? Or what, you stupid, soviet mass-murderer? What the fuck are you gonna do about it? You’re just mad that you don’t get your favourite fuck toy-’ 

Mark’s tirade was cut off with a strangling, choking sound. Bucky had crossed the room in a single stride. You hadn’t even seen him move. But Mark’s feet were dangling in the air, two feet above the ground, and Bucky had his throat clenched in his metal hand, Mark's body pinned between Bucky and the wall behind him. The glass bottle shattered into tiny shards as Mark dropped it, clawing at the hand around his neck. 

‘You will never,’ Bucky growled out, ‘never speak about her like that again.’ 

Bucky dropped him to the ground, barely giving him a second to breathe before his fist collided with Mark’s face, making a sick cracking sound as he broke Mark’s nose, blood flowing as he collapsed to the ground. 

‘You will never look at her again. You will never even think about her again, or I swear to god, I will find you. And I will kill you.’

‘How dare you think you can lay a hand on her? How dare you hurt her? The only reason I’m not killing you here and now is because of her. Because I know that, no matter how much of a pathetic, worthless human being you are, and how much you deserve it, it would hurt her to see. Because she is good. She is so god damn good, and she is too good for you.’

Bucky muddled his fist into the front of Mark’s shirt, pulling his limp, flailing body up to him, speaking low enough that only Mark could hear what he was saying. ‘But if I hear that you’ve even breathed near her, or that you’ve hurt anyone else, I won’t be so kind.’

Bucky threw him to the ground, ignoring the grunt of pain that left Mark’s lips as he did so. He left the man curled in on himself, looking every bit like the pathetic piece of shit he was. 

But then he turned to you, and every single part of him softened. His eyes which had been hardened with hatred, melted into pure love and concern. Your eyes were fixed on where Mark was lying on the floor. Your hands were still shaking. You’d all but stopped breathing. Bucky moved towards you slowly, careful not to spook you, ducking his head into your eyeline with the softest, most caring blue eyes you’d ever seen. His hand gently found its place on your cheek, moving your face to look him in the eye. A single tear fell down your face.

‘You’re okay, Doll. He can't hurt you now. He’s never going to hurt you ever again. But it’s about time we leave, okay? Do you think you can walk?’ 

You nodded numbly to Bucky, letting his other hand come to your face, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, before whispering, ‘I’m so, so sorry you had to see that.’ 

‘It’s okay,’ you whispered out, looking into his blue eyes, asking ‘Can we go?’

‘Of course we can, darling.’ Without another word, Bucky took your bag over his arm, wrapping the other around your still-shaking form, his hand on your lower back slowly guiding you out of the room. He kept talking to you the whole way out of the apartment. Kept whispering praise into your hair, promising you that you were safe now, telling you how well you’d done, that you never had to see that man ever again. 

You barely remembered the journey out of the building. The team stood outside, weapons drawn, just waiting for the signal from Bucky after they’d seen Mark appear. The drive back to the compound was a blur. No one said a word. But you felt Yelena’s hand softly squeeze your shoulder as she got out of the car, leaving only you and Bucky behind. You sat for a while, just staring numbly out of the front window of the car, until Bucky’s voice, thick and heavy with guilt, broke through the fog in your mind.

‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that. If you want to stay with Yelena, or Ava, or get a hotel, if you need some time away from me, I get it.’

Your head snapped up to face Bucky in shock, a frown pulling at your eyebrows.

‘Bucky, you saved me. If you hadn’t been there, he- I…’ you trailed off, not wanting to admit just how badly it could have gone. You would have been bleeding for sure. You probably would have been dead. Bucky Barnes had just saved your life, and he was beating himself up over it. 

Slowly, your hand found his, perched on the gear stick, clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. They softened under your touch as you squeezed his hand, telling him, ‘There is no one, James, no one, that I feel safer with than you.’ He turned to look at you, surprise colouring his own expression, only to be met with complete honesty in yours. You squeezed his hand again. ‘Let’s go inside, yeah?’ 

‘Yeah, Doll, let’s.’

As you and Bucky entered the common room, your breath was taken away. Everyone else had thrown on sweats, made a mountain of blankets, put soft lighting on, and fired up the TV. Popcorn was being thrown by Sam at John while he made some stupid joke. Yelena walked over and handed you a glass of wine. Ava called you over to pick a movie. Alexi was getting comfy on a beanbag while Bob brought through chocolate and sweets. 

Everyone was there. A small, silent part of you had dreaded the idea of your first night alone. But Sam had listened to the small thing you asked for. And here it was. A film night. Everyone, buried under soft fabrics and lit by the glow of a TV screen, together. No room for panic or noise in your head. Only comfort and safety. Bucky stepped to face you, offering you his hand. He whispered quietly to you, ‘only if you want to.’ Letting you know you had a choice. That if you needed to run and hide, you could. 

But you didn’t want to. Your days of hiding in misery, sorrow and pain were done. You had a family now, one that was welcoming you back with open arms. You were safe. You were loved. You were seen for all of the small things that made you whole, that made you happy. And your family, Bucky was there to give you it all. 

You slipped your hand into his, smiling up at him as he led you to a spot on the sofa, reserved for the pair of you. He wrapped you in a blanket, passed to popcorn and snacks, and held you tight against his side. His fingers carded through your hair, careful of the now nearly faded bruise in your hairline. 

The film in front of you was playing, everyone else enraptured, when you realised Bucky wasn’t looking at the screen, but at you. You turned to him, whispering a ‘thank you’ that held so much in it. You rested your head on his shoulder as you carried on watching. 

‘Always, Doll. I got you always. For everything. The big things and the small things. I got you.’ 

taglist: @happygalaxymilkshake @honeywithemoney @siorcguardian @energerstar @sinistersnakey @avatarofthetimelords Legends i cannot tell me how much it means that you enjoyed part 1 enough to be tagged for p2 !! Sending you all so so much love

[figtreesandmoonlight]

The Small Things Pt 2

Summary: You thought you could survive it. Endure the bruises, the fear, the silence. But now Bucky knows and is ready to tear the world apart to keep you safe. The fight isn’t over, not when the past still knows your name, but with the Avengers at your back and Bucky’s hand in yours, maybe this time you won’t have to fight alone.

read P1 here

Trigger Warnings: domestic abuse, violence, nightmares/PTSD

Bucky Barnes had been sat still long enough that his back ached and his eyes were sore. But he barely noticed it. The silent vigil he kept over your sleeping form wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He followed the slow rise and fall of your chest like it was a prayer. Watched your eyes flutter in your sleep like it was a hymn. Sleeplessness was nothing new to Bucky, but watching over you, guarding you, so that you could have just one safe night's sleep? That was something he’d hoped he would never have to do for you. That you’d never experience something that meant he’d need to do this.

But you needed him. So he’d be damned if he went anywhere else. 

He may have been sat silently, but inside, his world was unravelling. There’s no way to describe the rage and anguish that was tearing through Bucky. He replayed every moment. Every single time he’d been in a room with Mark, the first time you’d introduced him, begging Bucky to ‘give him a chance’, the dinners, the films he left early. 

Where were the signs? What had he missed? How had he let this happen? How had he let this happen to you? The first person to make him feel normal. To make him feel alive. To make him feel whole. He’d let someone tear you down. Put their hands on you. Hurt you. He’d missed the small things that told him what was happening. The pulling away. The skipped nights out. You’d been forced to pull away from him. And he’d just let you. 

He wanted to cry, wrap you in his arms, break things, and kill Mark all at once. But his priority was you. It would always be you from now on. Never. He was never going to forgive himself for this. And he was never going to let Mark lay a single hand on you ever again. 

Bucky was pulled from his self-interrogation by the sound of a whimper. His head snapped immediately to your sleeping form. The sight nearly broke him. The panic and fear on your face, the way your body shifted in your sleep, hiding away from some invisible but remembered source of pain. Slurred, mumbled words fell from your lips. ‘No, please, please, not again. I promise it won't - AH!’ It was the cry of pain and the sight of a tear falling from your closed eyes that spurred Bucky into action.

He practically flew out of the chair he’d been sitting on, to be next to your sleeping form on the bed. He crouched at your side, and started calling to you. ‘You’re safe. You’re not there. Come back to me.’

You woke as another cry of pain left your body, sitting up immediately, every muscle in you tensed and ready to run, to hide, from wherever the pain was coming from. You scrambled backwards, up the bed, head hitting hard into the headboard behind you. Your eyes darted wildly around the room, looking for him. For Mark. 

‘Please, no, no, no.’ 

Your disoriented cries broke Bucky’s heart. He kept his words coming, tone soft, body calm, hands held up, trying to make himself look as least threatening as possible until you recognised where you are. 

‘No one’s going to hurt you. It’s me, it’s Bucky.’ He did everything he could to keep his tone level and calm, slowly coaxing your terrified mind back into reality, rather than the hellscape it had been trapped in. ‘You’re in my room at the compound. You’re safe here. You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you. I’m gonna keep you safe.’ 

That got through to you. Your eyes stopped scanning the room for threats and settled on the man in front of you. Bucky. You swallowed roughly, taking a deeper breath. Your head tilted slightly as, finally, you recognised him, recognised the room you were in. All at once, the tension in your body drained away as you melted into the bedding around you. Your breathing was still a little quick as Bucky, slowly, so you knew he wasn’t going to reach for you, moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He locked eyes with you, giving you a gentle nod, which you returned. 

‘There she is,’ he whispered out, offering you his hand, which you timidly accepted, shuffling over to him. Bucky let you lead the movement, slowly reaching him as you collapsed into a hug, your forehead resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you in a silent promise of safety. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you mumbled out. Bucky’s hand came, slowly, to rest under your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. 

‘Never be. Not with me.’ You nodded into his chest in response. You stayed like that for quite a while, letting your shot nervous system recognise the safety it was in. That you were safe. 

And with Bucky, you knew you were. But as the sun began to stream in through the cracks in his drawn curtains, reality wormed its way into your brain. Bucky knew. He wasn’t going to make you go back. Hell, he wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to. But where the hell did you go now? Before you could vocalise even the beginnings of your thoughts, Bucky noticed the storm whirring around in your brain.

‘Why don’t we go get some coffee?’ He asked softly. You forced a small smile onto your lips, nodding. He wants you out. You’re not surprised. You’re a hot mess who can’t even protect herself, and now you crashed in his bed and woke him up with a stupid nightmare. Of course he wanted you to leave. Your brain moved at a million miles an hour: ‘I can go make it. Why don’t you get into bed and sleep a bit, I can’t imagine how tired you must be. Give me like 5 minutes and I’ll be out of your-’

‘Woah, breathe, doll, breathe. I’m not tired. You don’t gotta make me coffee. And you sure as hell ain’t going anywhere.’ He spoke to you with the softness you would an injured kitten, trying with his words to promise you that you weren’t a burden, that you weren’t some inconvenience. ‘Let’s both go get some coffee, yeah?’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, as the sudden wave of anxiety that had crashed into you passed. You nodded, ‘O-okay.’

Bucky rose slowly, offering you his hand and helping you to your feet. The pair of you moved in silence to the kitchen, but your hands couldn’t help but fidget with the sleeves of Bucky’s oversized jumper from nerves. Bucky noticed. Of course he did. He slowly wrapped one of his arms around you, pulling you closer into his side, another promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. That you weren’t either.

You settled at one of the stools under the marble counter while Bucky moved with practised ease around the kitchen, checking you still took your coffee the same way as he pressed a few buttons on the coffee machine and it whirred to life, pouring you a cup. He repeated the actions before coming to sit next to you, pressing your favourite mug into your hands, warm and smelling of comfort. You took a sip and sighed softly, basking in the brief comfort and stillness of the moment. The sunlight, coffee and Bucky. It had once been such a common occurrence in your life, but now felt like a treasured, special moment, to be grasped with both hands and never let go. But there was a reason you were here, and you couldn’t ignore the truth forever. 

‘What am I gonna do, Bucky?’ You asked, looking up at him and brushing some hair behind your ear. You didn’t understand why Bucky looked so sad in response.

‘You’re not gonna do anything, Doll.’ Your heart sank into your stomach, but before you could say anything, Bucky carried on. ‘We are gonna sort this out. However you want. We can get your stuff and you can crash here or anywhere else as long as you need to. Or I can go get it on my own. I get it if you never wanna go back there. I can get you a hotel room if you don’t wanna explain to the team why you’re here. Or we can come up with a cover story. Whatever you want. But you have a home here as long as you want it. And I’ll do anything you want, but we’re getting you out, and I’m gonna make sure you never have to deal with that piece of shit ever again.’

You sat for a moment, letting Bucky’s words sink in. He wasn’t going to send you away. He was giving you an out. Not only an out. He was giving you a new life, safe, and away from the pain of a life with Mark. You felt the tears welling up, and did nothing to stop them falling as you nodded, a soft smile on your lips, a smile of relief and heartbreak all in one. 

‘That,’ your voice wobbled as you spoke, ‘that sounds good. I think - I think I wanna come with you to get my stuff. I think I need to be there, to do it myself. And I think I need to do it today? Before I lose my nerve’

‘Of course, doll. I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you.’

‘What do we do if he’s there?’

‘I’ll take care of it.’ 

Bucky’s answer was so simple, so decisive. You could only trust him. The thought of having to see Mark again terrified you. How would he react? What he would say? But you could see the promise in Bucky’s eyes. He would keep you safe, you knew it. He carried on, ‘How do you feel about me letting the team know what’s going on while you get ready? I can tell them as much or as little as you want.’ 

‘You can tell them. I just,’ you broke off, colour rising to your cheeks, ‘I just won’t want them looking at me like I’m weak.’

Bucky’s hand rested on your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes promising he spoke only the truth as he said, ‘You’re not weak. Hell, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through hell alone. But we’re here now. Let us help.’ 

‘Okay. That, that sounds okay.’ You finished your coffee, heading back to Bucky’s room to get showered and changed, while FRIDAY called the rest of the New Avengers and Sam to the kitchen. You didn’t want the sad looks, the pity. But you wanted the support. God, you needed it. And letting Bucky tell them made it feel slightly easier as an idea. 

So you stepped into the steaming hot water, letting it run over the bruises on your body, easing the dull ache as the scent of vanilla filled the air. You finally let the tears of relief pour through you with abandon. This was different to the tears last night. They were ones of grief, of mourning. But these? These meant hope. They meant you were getting out. So you let yourself feel the relief you’d been avoiding. Let yourself realise it was real. 

Stepping back into Bucky’s room, hair washed and wrapped in the fluffiest towel, you pulled open his wardrobe, taking a soft t-shirt and a pair of joggers out of it, the same kind of outfit he would lend you when you used to spend the night. You grimaced at the sight of the bruises on your arms. But you weren’t ashamed of them anymore. The way Bucky had kissed them last night turned them into battle scars. 

Without letting yourself think twice, you pulled the door open and walked back to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway and taking in the sight, the tension in the air, the team sat on the sofas, looking at Bucky. Ava had a tear running down her cheek. Sam looked stoic, composed, but you knew him well enough to recognise the rage behind his eyes. Alexi was pacing, Yelena sharpening a knife, John saying something about tactics. With a deep breath, you walked into the room fully, drawing their attention to you. 

The next second, Alexi had engulfed your form in the gentlest hug he had ever given in his life. ‘You are warrior, little scientist,’ he said, voice soft and low, meant only for your ears, ‘Let us fight alongside you now.’ You nodded up at the giant of a man with a tender smile, one that told them of your nerves, your fear, but also your relief and your trust. 

The rest of the team had stood now, not rushing to crowd you, but making space for you, letting you know that if you wanted them, they were there. You walked over to them, filling a space between Yelena and Sam on the sofa as the rest of the team sat with you. Without a word, Sam pulled you into his side in a hug, while Yelena whispered lowly, ‘You have us now. We will keep you safe. Whatever you need, we’re here.’ 

You squeezed her hand in response before Bucky cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him. ‘They’ve all offered to come, Doll. However you want them, in the car, in the apartment. Or they can stay here. It’s up to you.’ There’s no adequate way to describe the fullness of your heart in that moment. You thought you might burst as emotions filled you that you didn’t even know you could still feel. They had your back. All of them. And they wanted you here. 

‘Can they come, but stay in the car? I don’t know if he’ll be there, but  I don’t wanna cause a scene unless he tries anything.’ 

John said something that sounded like ‘he won’t even be able to try’, but you didn’t catch the full thing. Bucky jumped in before anyone else could say anything. ‘That sounds good. Are you ok if I come in with you, in case he’s already there?’ You nodded your head. Yes. You wanted Bucky everywhere. Anywhere and everywhere. You felt safe with him. You trusted him. 

From there, you let the team talk logistics that washed over you. You recognised the sounds, but knew you could trust them to plan. You just needed to think through what you needed. It wasn’t a lot. The rest of the team went to prep their gear - minimal, Bucky instructed - while Sam stayed with you, a quiet comfort, while you made a list. A few photos. Some clothes, but not many - they held too many memories. Some toiletries. The music from your mum. It would be quick. In and out. Then you would be free. 

Sam’s voice drew you from your thoughts. ‘If you need someone to talk to about all of this, you can come to me. Or if you want it to be someone else, I can find you someone. Just let me know.’ 

‘Thanks, Sammy,’ you replied, hugging him.  You were the only person in the world other than his nephews, he let call him that. 

‘Of course. I just - whatever you need, just let me know.’

‘Can we have a movie night tonight? Like we used to? With popcorn and chocolate?’

Sam’s rumbling laugh vibrated against your chest, ‘one film night coming up.’

A few quiet moments of comfort later, the team had all returned to the sofa area. They all looked more or less unarmed, and you decided not to probe. You trusted them to listen to Bucky for this. To follow your lead. To give what you needed, not more. No guns blazing. No wild punch-ups. 

Bucky was the last to enter, standing in front of you on the couch. He offered you a hand. ‘You ready doll?’ You took his hand, drawing in a deep breath, before standing, saying ‘yes’ as you did. 

The ride to your apartment was quiet. You, Bucky, Yelena and Sam were in one car, Alexi, John, Ava and Bob in one following close behind. Someone had turned the radio on, and you were thankful for the quiet, meaningless noise floating around you that stopped you thinking too hard about what you were about to do. 

You knew you were close as the streets Bucky drove through led you to what was once your home. But not anymore. Bucky pulled up outside your apartment building, softly letting you know there was ‘no rush’. That they would stay there as long as you needed, in the safety of the car. And if you realised you weren’t up for it today? They could always come back tomorrow. 

A minute passed. Then five. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the thoughts whirring like a hurricane in your brain. His car wasn't in its usual spot, so he probably wasn’t in. You just wanted it done with. So with another deep breath, you clenched your jaw and turned to Bucky. ‘I’m ready.’

With shaky hands, you opened your car door, sending a grateful smile to the team in the back seat and the car behind you. Bucky came to stand next to you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, giving you comfort and support in one. You let him guide you through the lobby and into the elevator. As the doors closed and the elevator started to rise, he spoke softly: ‘You’re safe. I promise. I know how hard this is. You’re doing so, so well.’

The elevator doors opened slowly, letting you and Bucky step out onto your floor. Bucky led the way to your door, never rushing you, but helping you along, knowing that you needed support through this. When you lifted the key out of your pocket, your hands shook. Without a word, Bucky’s larger hand closed around yours, helping you steady yourself as you put the key into the lock. Before you turned it, he whispered, ‘let me go in first, make sure it’s safe.’ You nodded in response. 

The door creaked open, revealing your front room. It had been destroyed. The coffee table was on its side with a leg broken off, lamps were shattered, books thrown across the floor, and, of course, bottles of beer scattered across the rug. But the lights were off. You let out a shaky sigh of relief at that. Still, you let Bucky go in first, waiting for him in the corridor as your heart nearly pulsed out of your chest. 

You jumped a little as Bucky reappeared in front of you. ‘It’s all clear, doll. You wanna come in? It’s not too late to change your mind.’ 

You gave Bucky a sad smile. ‘It’s okay. I knew something like this would happen when I didn’t text him or come home last night.’ Still, it hurt your heart to see the life you’d made scattered across the room in front of you. He’d done this before. But every other time, it’d been you having to put it back together again. But not this time. You didn’t have to cover for him anymore. Never had to clean up his mess ever again. 

You walked through the space like a ghost, as though you weren’t really there, Bucky following you close behind, protective and reassuring every step of the way. You walked into your bedroom and pulled a bag out of the closet, filling it methodically, grabbing only the essentials while Bucky stayed by the door, giving you some privacy and keeping watch over you.

A door slammed. Glass shattered. Shit. 

‘Where the fuck are you?!’

Your entire body tensed, your knuckled turning white around the strap of the bag you were holding. Your head snapped to Bucky, panic rising in you, breaths shortening and turning into gasps of fear. He looked straight back at you. Your hands were shaking. Your feet wouldn’t move. He was here. He was here, and he was going to hurt you. You were never going to get away. Never going to be safe. 

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You fucking slut, bringing your boytoy here.’ Mark spat at you, sending violent gestures your way, ‘Bet you already got on your knees for him. Let him use you like the pathetic bitch you are.’ 

In the space of a second, Bucky had put his body between you and Mark, who, red-faced and fists clenched, now stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He held the broken top of a glass bottle, sharp and deadly, clenched in his fist. 

Bucky’s voice cut through the room, jaw and fist clenched, low and deadly. ‘You’re not going to take one more step towards her.’

‘Oh yeah? Or what, you stupid, soviet mass-murderer? What the fuck are you gonna do about it? You’re just mad that you don’t get your favourite fuck toy-’ 

Mark’s tirade was cut off with a strangling, choking sound. Bucky had crossed the room in a single stride. You hadn’t even seen him move. But Mark’s feet were dangling in the air, two feet above the ground, and Bucky had his throat clenched in his metal hand, Mark's body pinned between Bucky and the wall behind him. The glass bottle shattered into tiny shards as Mark dropped it, clawing at the hand around his neck. 

‘You will never,’ Bucky growled out, ‘never speak about her like that again.’ 

Bucky dropped him to the ground, barely giving him a second to breathe before his fist collided with Mark’s face, making a sick cracking sound as he broke Mark’s nose, blood flowing as he collapsed to the ground. 

‘You will never look at her again. You will never even think about her again, or I swear to god, I will find you. And I will kill you.’

‘How dare you think you can lay a hand on her? How dare you hurt her? The only reason I’m not killing you here and now is because of her. Because I know that, no matter how much of a pathetic, worthless human being you are, and how much you deserve it, it would hurt her to see. Because she is good. She is so god damn good, and she is too good for you.’

Bucky muddled his fist into the front of Mark’s shirt, pulling his limp, flailing body up to him, speaking low enough that only Mark could hear what he was saying. ‘But if I hear that you’ve even breathed near her, or that you’ve hurt anyone else, I won’t be so kind.’

Bucky threw him to the ground, ignoring the grunt of pain that left Mark’s lips as he did so. He left the man curled in on himself, looking every bit like the pathetic piece of shit he was. 

But then he turned to you, and every single part of him softened. His eyes which had been hardened with hatred, melted into pure love and concern. Your eyes were fixed on where Mark was lying on the floor. Your hands were still shaking. You’d all but stopped breathing. Bucky moved towards you slowly, careful not to spook you, ducking his head into your eyeline with the softest, most caring blue eyes you’d ever seen. His hand gently found its place on your cheek, moving your face to look him in the eye. A single tear fell down your face.

‘You’re okay, Doll. He can't hurt you now. He’s never going to hurt you ever again. But it’s about time we leave, okay? Do you think you can walk?’ 

You nodded numbly to Bucky, letting his other hand come to your face, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, before whispering, ‘I’m so, so sorry you had to see that.’ 

‘It’s okay,’ you whispered out, looking into his blue eyes, asking ‘Can we go?’

‘Of course we can, darling.’ Without another word, Bucky took your bag over his arm, wrapping the other around your still-shaking form, his hand on your lower back slowly guiding you out of the room. He kept talking to you the whole way out of the apartment. Kept whispering praise into your hair, promising you that you were safe now, telling you how well you’d done, that you never had to see that man ever again. 

You barely remembered the journey out of the building. The team stood outside, weapons drawn, just waiting for the signal from Bucky after they’d seen Mark appear. The drive back to the compound was a blur. No one said a word. But you felt Yelena’s hand softly squeeze your shoulder as she got out of the car, leaving only you and Bucky behind. You sat for a while, just staring numbly out of the front window of the car, until Bucky’s voice, thick and heavy with guilt, broke through the fog in your mind.

‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that. If you want to stay with Yelena, or Ava, or get a hotel, if you need some time away from me, I get it.’

Your head snapped up to face Bucky in shock, a frown pulling at your eyebrows.

‘Bucky, you saved me. If you hadn’t been there, he- I…’ you trailed off, not wanting to admit just how badly it could have gone. You would have been bleeding for sure. You probably would have been dead. Bucky Barnes had just saved your life, and he was beating himself up over it. 

Slowly, your hand found his, perched on the gear stick, clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. They softened under your touch as you squeezed his hand, telling him, ‘There is no one, James, no one, that I feel safer with than you.’ He turned to look at you, surprise colouring his own expression, only to be met with complete honesty in yours. You squeezed his hand again. ‘Let’s go inside, yeah?’ 

‘Yeah, Doll, let’s.’

As you and Bucky entered the common room, your breath was taken away. Everyone else had thrown on sweats, made a mountain of blankets, put soft lighting on, and fired up the TV. Popcorn was being thrown by Sam at John while he made some stupid joke. Yelena walked over and handed you a glass of wine. Ava called you over to pick a movie. Alexi was getting comfy on a beanbag while Bob brought through chocolate and sweets. 

Everyone was there. A small, silent part of you had dreaded the idea of your first night alone. But Sam had listened to the small thing you asked for. And here it was. A film night. Everyone, buried under soft fabrics and lit by the glow of a TV screen, together. No room for panic or noise in your head. Only comfort and safety. Bucky stepped to face you, offering you his hand. He whispered quietly to you, ‘only if you want to.’ Letting you know you had a choice. That if you needed to run and hide, you could. 

But you didn’t want to. Your days of hiding in misery, sorrow and pain were done. You had a family now, one that was welcoming you back with open arms. You were safe. You were loved. You were seen for all of the small things that made you whole, that made you happy. And your family, Bucky was there to give you it all. 

You slipped your hand into his, smiling up at him as he led you to a spot on the sofa, reserved for the pair of you. He wrapped you in a blanket, passed to popcorn and snacks, and held you tight against his side. His fingers carded through your hair, careful of the now nearly faded bruise in your hairline. 

The film in front of you was playing, everyone else enraptured, when you realised Bucky wasn’t looking at the screen, but at you. You turned to him, whispering a ‘thank you’ that held so much in it. You rested your head on his shoulder as you carried on watching. 

‘Always, Doll. I got you always. For everything. The big things and the small things. I got you.’ 

taglist: @happygalaxymilkshake @honeywithemoney @siorcguardian @energerstar @sinistersnakey @avatarofthetimelords Legends i cannot tell me how much it means that you enjoyed part 1 enough to be tagged for p2 !! Sending you all so so much love

[figtreesandmoonlight]

The Small Things

Bucky x reader one-shot 

Summary: You kept the small things to yourself. But when those small things were bruises and pain left on your body by your boyfriend, they were never going to stay with you forever. During a lab visit, Bucky finally realises why the reader pulled away from him, and swears to keep her safe forever. - PART 2 Here x

TWs: Domestic abuse, detailed descriptions of bruises, injuries, and pain, verbal insults and controlling behavior, themes of isolation and manipulation

Everything was fine. Everything would keep being fine as long as no one asked any questions. Because if anyone asked you a question, something was going to break open inside you so wide, so broken, that you could never force close it again. So, coffee in hand, makeup checked and double checked, laptop in bag and shoulders squared, you walked into the compound. 

You smiled and waved at Gary, calling out a soft ‘heya’ to the security guard who sat at the front desk daily, diligently checking everyone coming in and out of the labs. When you could, you remembered to bring him a coffee: for such a giant of a man, he loved an extra-sweet latte. He kept you all safe, or as safe as he could, and you thought he probably didn’t get enough recognition for it. He was as part of the brickwork of the place as much as any avenger or director alike. He kept the place going, and it was important to you to recognise every turning cog of a machine. 

It was the small things that mattered. They could make someone’s day. They could blow your life wide open in a way that made it hard for you to sleep at night. Focus on the little things. Sleeves pulled down, top button done up. Hair down to cover the bruise, just skimming past the edge of your hairline. He usually paid more attention when he hit you. It was usually easier to hide. 

Never mind; you’d just have to work a bit harder at hiding it until it faded. 

You passed a few fellow scientists on your way through to your lab. Dr Sophie Rosen, who was working on improving the space tech Stark Tech had started and got bored of, caught up with you, and you made your way through the winding corridors together, catching up after the weekend. You were meant to meet her for drinks on Saturday night - a group from the lab had agreed to meet up. But Mark had made it clear you wouldn’t be going when he’d thrown you to the floor and slammed the door to your shared bedroom in your face, locking it behind him. He’d left a boot print on your back, bruises on your wrists, and a ringing in your head.

‘Anyway, I’m jabbering on. I wasn’t sure to expect you in today’ Sophie’s comment pulled you back into reality as you turned to look at her, confused. She looked back at you, an equally confused smile pulling at her lips, ‘your cold? Gone now?’ Oh. God, you were slow today. You’d told her you were sick to get out of drinks. 

You brushed it off with a laugh, ‘Oh yeah, must have been one of those 48-hour things! All good now.’ The words rushed out of your mouth slightly too quickly, and slightly too dismissively, but Sophie didn’t clock it. Instead, she knocked into you gently, whispering in mock conspiracy, ‘Mark better have looked after you or I’ll send him up to space next instead of a test dummy.’ 

You laughed her comment off, the same way you did every time someone at work brought Mark up. Smile. Laugh. Brighten your eyes. Keep the small things hidden. Don’t think about the friends you’ve lost. The nights alone. The nights in agony. 

You made up some story about ‘soup or something’ before being internally flooded with relief as your lab’s door came into view. You sped up slightly, rushing to get away from a conversation you didn’t know how long you could lie through. You told Sophie that you were close to a breakthrough and that you were gonna ‘crack on’. You hoped she took the startled gasp of pain you let out as she pulled you into a hug as one of surprise. She didn’t need to know your ribs were pulsing in sharp pain at the contact.  

As the doors to your lab let off the gentle hiss that told you they were closing, you walked to your workbench, gingerly, letting the pull of your aching body envelop you for a second. You all but fell into your chair. Shut off inside your lab, you let yourself have a second to think of what happened on Saturday. A few seconds to process before getting on. 

Mark had come in from his shift in a shit mood. You should’ve known better than texting him to say you were going out that night. Should have asked permission. Should have had his lunch ready when he came in. Should have woken up early to clean the apartment.

 But you were tired. You were so tired, and you had been for a while. So, in the safety of an empty apartment, you’d let yourself rest, let the warm sunlight lull you into a false sense of security as you dozed. 

But suddenly it was midday and the door slammed open. Suddenly, he was in the bedroom. Suddenly, he was on top of you. Suddenly, you hurt. Different parts of your body screaming at you in pain while he spat abuse down onto you. You’d tried to curl in on yourself. Begged him to stop, tears streaming down your face. It didn’t make a difference.  

The slight sting of the cold metal workspace in front of you pulled you back to the lab as your forearms rested on it, your head cradled in your hands. You’d loved him. He’d loved you. He still did. Or at least, he told you he did. What was worse, you knew a part of you still loved him. It hurt to stay, but what if it hurt worse to leave? How could you even leave now? Where would you start?

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

In. Out.

You pushed the thoughts from your mind as you picked up an AJ and your souldering iron and got to work. What better distraction could there be than finishing your upgrades to the arm in front of you? 

About five years ago, you’d finished your degree and stepped into the world of the Avengers. Or, more accurately, you’d been brought in. The tech you’d made for one of your final projects had caught the eye of Fury; the next thing you knew, you were sat in SHIELD HQ being given some equipment and designs, and told to ‘have fun’. By the end of the day, you’d signed a contract. 

Like every other SHIELD agent, you’d had to complete basic training to become a fully qualified agent, basic self-defence, weaponry and combat. It was how you’d met Tasha. She was training your group one day, and while you were sparring, she used a Widow Bite on you. Once you’d recovered, you’d asked her if you could hold on to it. When you brought it back a week later with five improvements and a more compact design, she got you relocated to the compound. 

You missed her fiercely. She’d been like a big sister to you, so when you’d come back from the blip to find her and Tony gone, something in you withered. Back then? They would’ve noticed the small things. They all would have. Nat, Tony, Steve, Sam…Bucky. They would’ve seen the way the fire in your eyes had turned to smoke. They would’ve seen the long sleeves in summer, the high necks. The black eyes hidden under bad makeup. 

They would’ve gotten you away from Mark before you even realised what he was doing was wrong. But most of them were gone now. Mark had pulled you away from the rest. And you were trapped with him. Someone with basic fucking shield training couldn’t even defend herself. Pathetic. 

So, you kept your distance from the rest of the team that came back from the blip. You clocked in. You clocked out. You did good work, and you went home. You pulled away from everyone. No more training days. No Avenger and Co get aways. No film nights. 

You smiled softly at the project in front of you, the upgraded arm for Bucky. You remembered how he’d told you late one night that the weight of the metal pulled at his shoulder uncomfortably. A small thing, he’d said, barely mentioned in passing, but something that you’d remembered. And one that you’d, hopefully, just fixed. A gesture. A way to remind him you were still there. To keep him in your life when Mark had cut him out of every other part. You pulled up a holo-screen, sending Bucky a quick message: Upgrade’s ready when you are! :)

You knew he’d come pretty quickly; he always did when you called, but you kept yourself busy anyway. Less time to think that way. Yelena had said something about her batons feeling ‘clunky’ - you could help fix that. The problem was, you got a bit carried away. So carried away, with your ear defenders on and angle grinder going, that you didn’t hear Bucky come in. Didn’t notice him until a hand landed on your shoulder. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching, no matter how much you wished you had. You shrank into yourself, expecting a blow that, of course, would never come. You turned around as fast as the disk on the grinder spun, to find Bucky, stepped slightly back, wide-eyed and hands held up as if he was looking at a startled deer, not a woman with a tool that could be lethal. Your finger left the trigger, your heart hammering in your chest at a thousand beats a minute as adrenaline burned through your body and every muscle clenched out of fearful memory. ‘Fuck’ you breathed out, panic coursing through you. The second the tool spun down, you placed it on the counter, yanking off your gloves and ear defenders; ‘Oh my god, Bucky I am so so sorry! I didn’t hear you come in.’ 

Bucky hadn’t stepped any closer. His hands were still up, but his brow had furrowed slightly, his eyes flickering up and down your body, before catching on the purple, hand-shaped bruise, encasing your wrist where you’d just pulled your glove off. Your eyes followed his own. 

You couldn’t help but gasp a little as you saw it, turning away from him and immediately pulling your sleeve back down. No. No no no no no. Not now. He couldn’t see now. Not after everything. Not after you’d survived so long like this. Bucky’s voice came slightly gruff from across the room as he tried to force some lightness into his tone, ’It’s okay Doll - you alright? Thought you were gonna get me for a sec there.’ 

Your heart was still running at a million miles an hour, but you let out a slightly breathless laugh as you turned back around to him. There was something sad in his eyes. It was only small. Barely noticeable. But you liked the small things. You saw the small things. The way his frown crinkled the skin between his eyebrows, how his eyes seemed to get darker when he was upset. And Bucky was sad. Sad, and maybe angry. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t push. He kept a false, gentle smile going your way. Kept his voice soft and his tone light. He was trying to make  sure he didn’t spook you.

‘Nah, gramps. I think it’d take more than me and an angle grinder to take you down,’ you laugh out, picking Bucky’s new arm up and crossing the lab space towards him. 

‘I don’t know. I reckon you got some rage hidden in there.’ 

‘Hah, if you say so, old man.’ You were standing just across from him now. ‘You okay if I attach it the first time?’ Bucky nodded at you, ‘Sure thing, genius,’ you could feel his eyes flickering over your form again, searching for something as the hem of your t-shirt rose up without you realising, Bucky’s eyes immediately honing in on another bruise. But he didn’t say anything. He added it to the mental catalogue. He’d taken your disapperance the hardest, never knowing why. Except now, now he was finding out, and he hated the answer. ‘Remind me what upgrade this one is?’ You’d just finished attaching the new arm as he asked, so instead of replying, you told him to ‘give it a go, soldier, you tell me.’ 

Bucky quirked his eyebrows at you, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips, as if saying if you say so. You weren’t talking. Either you didn’t realise he’d blocked a bruise on your wrist that was filling him with rage, or you were hiding it. So he played along. He curled his fingers into a fist before swinging the arm in a full circle, the machinery now barely making a sound at the action. A surprised look came onto Bucky’s face as he brought his arm up backwards and slowly moved his arm in a back-and-forth motion a few times. ‘It’s not pulling,’ Bucky almost whispered in disbelief, before locking eyes with you, his features softening in gratitude, ‘you remembered.’ You smiled and nodded your head slightly, ‘you said it was hurting, I wanted to stop it.’ 

Before you knew it, Bucky had closed the distance between you, pulling you into the gentlest hug, but you couldn’t help but flinch again. Bucky felt every single muscle in your body tense, but he held you close, not letting you, but pulling you closer, letting your body realise it was safe, letting it relax into the hug. The contact put pressure on your ribs. It was worth it. Above you, Bucky simply whispered a ‘thank you,’ into your hair. 

The pair of you stayed like that for a while, bodies pressed against each other, pulling comfort from the other. It was nice.

You’d been so close once. Bucky was your person. Your best friend. Your safe place. You were one of the first people he was introduced to. The pair of you had bonded over 40’s music and good food. Movie nights happened weekly, and you’d stayed over in his room more than once after falling asleep mid-movie. Bucky always took the couch when you did. But Mark started making comments about the men you always seemed to hang out with. Then the comments turned into punishments. So you’d pulled away from the team. From Bucky. 

But you missed them. Missed him. Missed his messy hair in the mornings and the way his hoodies smelt of home. Missed how you felt safe with him. Eventually, you pulled away from each other. 

‘What are you doing tonight, Doll? We’re gonna have a movie night if you want to join us?’ Your heart broke a little knowing you had to say no. Everything in you wanted to say yes, to hide away with the team and never come back. But you couldn’t. Not with how Mark had been recently. Staying would only mean more bruises. More pain. You couldn’t cope with it.

‘I’d love to Bucky, but I can’t, Mark wants me home tonight.’ You didn’t miss how Bucky’s jaw clenched at Mark’s name.

‘But what do you want?’

You tried to laugh it off, ‘Come on Buck, it’s a Monday night.’ 

You tried to pull away. Bucky wasn’t having it. He fixed his gaze on you, immovable and hard. Before you knew what was happening, Bucky had your wrists gently held in his, pulling you over to the couch that sat in the corner of your lab. He sat you down before letting go of your hands and kneeling in front of you. You couldn’t look at him. His hand came up to your cheek, softly guiding your face so that you were looking him in his steel blue eyes. 

‘I miss you.’ 

He said it so simply, so matter-of-fact. It hit you in the gut like a bullet. You were frozen in time. Your brain was running at a million miles an hour, but you couldn’t make sense of any of it. You drew in a sharp breath as Bucky’s hands gently closed around your right wrist, and his voice, soft as sunrise, said ‘I miss you. And you’ve been pulling away from us. And now, I think I know why.’ He turned your palm upwards, cradling it in his hand, before shifting to sit next to you on the couch. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything about the rising panic storming inside you. About the fear. The shame. The embarrassment. You couldn’t move when Bucky’s hands slowly pulled your sleeve up, revealing those small things you’d worked so hard to hide. 

Ugly, purple and black bruises, fading green ones with a sickly colour, and scars. 

‘I’m going to kill him.’ 

Bucky’s eyes, filled with anguish, took in the bruises, cuts and burns as he drew in a shaky, stuttering breath, his thumb gingerly tracing over the marks. He didn’t yell it. Didn’t shout. Didn’t rage. He said it like it was a fact. 

You’d been hurt. He was going to make sure it didn’t happen again.

You were crying. From nothing but the sheer gentleness that Bucky held you with. You hadn’t been touched, held, gently, like something precious, for so long. From the fact that he looked so sad that someone would ever hurt you. A stray tear turned into two, into a litany of sobs that were racking your body. 

At some point, Bucky simply curled his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. He held you close, held you tight, a promise that he wasn’t going to let go. A dam had opened, and water was flooding through. All the misery. All the sorrow and hurt of the last year, hitting you at once.

 Finally, you let it break you. You stayed in Bucky’s arms, protected from the rest of the world so long as he held you. And through each wave, each sob, each cry, he whispered comfort to you. Promises that ‘I got you now’, encouraging you to ‘let it out’, swearing that ‘you’re safe.’ 

Eventually, your cries wore out. You weren’t done crying. You weren’t gonna be for a long time. But for now, you’d tired yourself out. You pulled away from Bucky. He wouldn’t push. You knew he wouldn’t. But there was no going back now. Something in you had finally admitted the nightmare that your life had become, and you needed to tell him. Voice wobbling, breath shaking, you started talking. 

‘He didn’t used to-’ you paused, swallowing, steeling yourself as you looked into Buckys eyes and saw no judgement, only comfort and sorrow, ‘He didn’t use to hit me. I swear he didn’t. It started last year, when he got his new job after the Blip. Money was tight, and things were tense. We’d been arguing, and I said I was gonna stay the night here. It-‘ you broke off, looking away from Bucky. ‘It was the first time he hit me. Said the only reason you guys liked me was because you were probably passing me around like some fuck toy. It started that night and-‘ You could hear the groan of Bucky’s arm as his fist clenched, ‘and he hasn’t really stopped since.’

‘I wanted to come to you. I swear I did. But we’d just lost Nat and Tony and I…’ You looked away from Bucky, blush colouring your cheeks in shame, ‘I didn’t know how. It all happened so quickly, I couldn’t get out, couldn’t admit what he’d done. I’m sorry’ 

‘Dont,’ Bucky’s voice broke in, hoarse, sad and deadly, ‘don’t ever apologise for what he’s done to you. Don’t you ever feel embarrassed about this. We should have seen that something was wrong. I should have.’ Suddenly, Bucky was kneeling in front of you again, looing up at you like it was a prayer, ‘I am so, so sorry I wasn’t there before. But I am now. Please let me help you, Doll.’ 

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t say it. The pressure in your throat was too much to battle against. But you nodded. It was timid. It was scared. But it was there. He’d offered to help. You’d accepted.

He knelt up in front of you, pulling your body into another gentle hug. ‘I got ya. I’m gonna look after you now. I promise.’ He stood gently, helping you stand on shaky legs and wrapping you into his side. 

As you stepped out of the lab, you could feel eyes on you, your colleagues, on their lunch breaks, chatting, watching you be all but carried by Bucky Barnes into the personal quarters of the compound. But above you, Bucky was on high alert. Someone’s eyes locked onto you? He stared them down in seconds, making sure that not only would they look away, they’d never mention it ever again. He would protect you. Not only from Mark. From everyone. From the rumours. From the whispers. From the world. 

Before you knew it, you were sitting on Bucky’s bed. Gentle hands passed you a pair of joggers and one of his hoodies. You and Bucky were moving in a peaceful silence until you pulled your top off. The low growl that left Bucky’s chest was unmistakable as he took in the extent of the damage Mark had done. You locked eyes with his, which were full of apology and anger. He whispered out a sorrowful ‘I am so sorry.’ You didn’t need to reply.  

Without saying anything, he grabbed a balm off his bedside table and lowered himself onto the bed next to you. ‘Can I put this on you? It’s just a balm, helps bruises heal quicker.’ You gave a gentle nod of your head, and Bucky got some of the balm out onto his metal hand, warming it up with his human one. He kept all of his movements in your eyeline, quietly promising not to touch you without your consent, not to surprise you, and promising that you were in control. 

Warm hands started to work the balm over the bruise on your back while Bucky’s frown deepened. ‘It’s not your fault Buck,’ you whispered out. Bucky barely grunted at you in response, so you turned to look at him, moving your back out of reach and catching his hands in yours before he could carry on. ‘Bucky, look at me,’ he did. ‘This is not your fault.’ He just clenched his jaw and shook his head. ‘I should have noticed.’ A stray tear fell from his eyes. ‘I made sure you didn’t, Buck. This is no one’s fault but Mark’s. Promise me you know that?’ It was Bucky’s turn to nod in reply, but it was enough for you to turn back around and let him keep applying the balm. 

When he’d finished your back, he moved on to your arms, placing a kiss on each wrist when he’d finished. You stood up, quickly changing into Bucky’s sweats while he was turned around, before sitting down on the bed again, the smell of Bucky’s clothes immediately making you feel safer. 

In the smallest voice he’d ever heard, you whispered out, ’What do I do now, Bucky?’

‘Tonight you rest.’

‘And tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow we get you out of there for good.’

AN: Hello dearies. The mental health is not healthing right now, so I can't promise when the next part will be, however, THERE WILL BE A PART TWO, confrontation with Mark will occur, Bucky will be protective as fuck - so do let me know if you'd like to be tagged in it! Thanks as ever for reading x

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Fucking Hazelnuts

Bucky x reader one-shot 

Fluff, hurt/comfort 

Summary: It was supposed to be the perfect birthday date—red dress, roses, soft music, and Bucky Barnes looking at you like you hung the stars. But when one bite of dessert turns into a deadly situation, the evening spirals into chaos. In the haze of fear and adrenaline, it’s Bucky who grounds you—steady hands, unwavering eyes, and whispered reassurances. As you cling to each other through the ER visit and quiet tears, you’re reminded that love isn’t just grand gestures—it’s knowing someone will always show up.

AN: I know it’s a bit of a niche fic, but as someone sent to A&E twice this year with allergies, I wish I’d had a Bucky to come with me !

You looked in the mirror, hands smoothing the burnt red fabric of your dress over your hips one final time. You smiled, a giddy ball of excitement building in you as you turned from the mirror. The soft corner lamp of your and Bucky’s bedroom cast everything in a warm glow as you finished getting ready for your evening together. The soft sounds of music outside your room had been flowing through the door since you’d left Bucky to get ready. You grabbed your purse from the bed, a white clutch full of the essentials: lip gloss, phone, keys, card, and emergency bag. If there was one thing dating Bucky Barnes had taught you, it was that, with that man, anything could happen. 

So, you’d taken to carrying a little bag everywhere, holding plasters, butterfly stitches, paracetamol and ibuprofen, antihistamine, mints, and your EpiPen, a spare lip balm. Anything you could think of, really. Your meds lived in there along with the stuff you always kept for Bucky. It was mostly out of convenience; you needed to take your meds every day and bring your epi-pen everywhere, and you always wanted to have whatever Bucky would need on you. Just in case. Bucky had a crazy enough life as it was, and if you carrying a few extra things could help him? You were more than happy to do it. 

You slung the white bag over your shoulder as you sat down on the bed, doing up the buckles on your matching white heels. Nothing too high to make sure that if your goofy Labrador of a boyfriend decided you guys were gonna go for a walk in the park or a random run in the rain, you still could. You stood up, one last time checking your reflection in the mirror. ‘You ready, Barnes?’ You called out, excited to step out with your beautiful man. 

‘For you, doll?’ his sultry voice responded from the hallway, ‘Always.’

‘It’s your lucky day then, soldier,’ you called back, moving to the door and pulling it open, ‘I’m not even gonna make you wait tonight.’ Bucky was standing, black suit, white shirt, arm hanging off the top of the door frame. His eyes widened, his pupils blown, as he exhaled in a gentle gasp, something somewhere between adoration and lust. His eyes scanned your form up and down like you were an object in a holy temple, something to be worshipped. 

‘My god, baby,’ his low voice growled out, ‘you’re gonna kill me looking like that.’ He stepped forward, closing the gap between your bodies. One hand snaked around your waist, while the other settled under your chin, gently lifting your face up to his as he kissed you, hot, slightly desperate. 

You melted into the kiss, a soft moan pulling its way from your lips. After a second, you pulled back from him. ‘Come on, Barnes,’ you laughed, stepping away from him and looking back over your shoulder at him, ‘we’ve got a date to make, don’t we?’

‘I will cancel this very second,’ he replied, no hint of a joke in his voice. 

‘Uh-uh, birthday boy,’ you shook your head, ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all day. If you’re good,’ you said, smirking at the sight of your slightly dazed boyfriend behind you, lips swollen and eyes locked on you, ‘you can have something sweeter than dessert when we get home.’

Bucky was at your side in an instant, hand slipping where it belonged against your lower back, like you and he were an extension of each other. ‘Seriously,’ he said, as he guided you into the kitchen, ‘you look incredible.’ 

‘So do you, baby,’ you replied, gasping softly as he suddenly broke away from you to pick up the dozen red roses he’d left sitting on the counter. ‘Bucky,’ you whispered out, looking up at him with a warm smile pulling at your face, ‘I thought it was supposed to be your special day’. 

‘Nothing more special to me than you.’ He said it so simply, like it was obvious, like you should have known already. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before placing the flowers in some water, and letting him walk you out the door. Bucky opened your car door before you had a chance to even think about reaching to open it, giving you a hand in, and setting the heating to the temperature you liked best. 

The ride to the restaurant was one spent in quiet, comfortable conversation. Bucky talked to you about old birthdays he’d had back in the 40s, smiling with a distant fondness as he talked about Becca trying and failing to make him breakfast the year his Ma was sick, or when they all went to Coney Island for his 15th birthday, Steve in tow. Before you knew it, you were sitting in a slightly separate corner of the candlelit restaurant you and Bucky had been to for your first date, and every major event since. 

Mains came and went quickly as you and Bucky spoke softly over glasses of red wine. You told him about the new job you were interviewing for, and he thought his heart might burst with pride as you spoke animatedly and with so much passion. Bucky told you about the time he’d kidnapped Sam’s little drone, Redwing, and tried to sabotage it, before finding it spraying pepper spray and glitter all over him. Sam called it the ‘defence protocols’, but Bucky was sure he’d set it up just for him.

You were so enraptured with Bucky that you didn’t think twice as your desserts were brought out. The warmth flooding through your veins, your full heart, and blissful state of being with the man you loved took everything else away. 

You took a bite. You froze. All the warmth, all the happiness in you was suddenly replaced with ice-cold panic seconds after you swallowed a mouthful of rich chocolate poison. 

Your fork clattered against your plate. You didn’t remember dropping it. Your ears were ringing, and your eyes stopped registering the sights in front of you. 

‘Fuck, Bucky, I -’

He was already kneeling in front of your chair, his warm hands on your arms and eyes flickering over you, trying to figure out what was wrong with a desperate intensity, while a fiery itching sensation blazed in the back of your mouth and your throat began to swell. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes, not so much from fear as sheer panic. You were having an allergic reaction. 

Your body moved on autopilot before you could think about what you were doing. You stood up, chair scraping backwards as your feet took you out the front door of the restaurant in a blind movement. Your back connected with the brick wall next to the door, and you slid down it, your body basically crumbling and folding in half. 

Panicked commotion was happening all around you, but the second Bucky crouched down in front of you, looking more scared than you’d ever seen him before, you focused on him. Your breaths were raspy, and a dull headache was forming. His hands came up to cradle your face, wild panic in his eyes. 

‘Baby, can you hear me?’ You nodded. ‘Okay, good, that’s so good baby. You’re having an allergic reaction. I need to use your epi-pen on you, alright? It might sting a bit, but I promise it’s gonna make you feel better.’ You nodded your head again, hair falling in your face now and sticking to the wet track marks running down your face. Bucky moved with the kind of quick efficiency that gave him away as a supersoldier. He said something about water over his shoulder to one of the waiters who’d followed you outside, never once taking his eyes off yours. 

Despite the now stinging itchiness and swelling in your throat and your bubbling lips, you felt calmer knowing Bucky knew what was happening. Bucky shook his jacket off while his gentle but quick hands pulled your dress up to expose your thigh. His jacket came to rest over your legs. He took the pen out of its case, before pulling the blue cap off, placing a quick kiss to your forehead and whispering ‘I’m sorry baby’ into your hair, before stabbing the pen into your leg. 

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sting, but the effects of the adrenaline worked quickly, pulling you out of the haze you’d entered, and back into the world around you. You could hear Bucky, counting above you under his breath the ten seconds he needed to hold the injector to your thigh for. Tension you hadn’t known was in your shoulders dropped as your head fell back against the brick in quiet relief. At once you could feel the itching and swelling that was raging like a storm in your throat and mouth calm begin to subside. 

Bucky finished counting, placing another scared kiss to your forehead before gingerly pulling the injector away, frowning at the line of blood that ran in a single line down your thigh from the tiny puncture wound in your leg. Your hands started shaking as a new kind of sensation began to roll through your body. You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, and a dizziness pulling at your mind. Someone you didn’t recognise tried to press a glass of water into your shaking hand, but before you could even open your mouth to say something, Bucky’s warm hand enclosed yours. 

You looked up at him, your own panic now feeling more like a memory of the past as you saw just how scared he still looked. Wet tracks glistened on his cheeks, betraying the fact that he had been crying. You brought a shaky hand up to his face, cradling his jaw, as you whispered out, your scratchy voice now hoarse, ‘’m okay Buck, promise.’ 

He stopped at the sound of your voice, it stilling something in him that had been running wild since the second he’d realised what was going on. You shifted slightly, hand pulling on his wrist to get him to sit next to you. The chaos around you had now stilled a little. Someone told you an ambulance was on its way. You just nodded as Bucky started to stroke your hair. You curled up into his side, the after effects of the adrenaline, the shakiness, the nausea, now settling in. 

‘Need you to have some of this,’ Bucky gently said, not wanting to ask too much from you in that moment, slowly raising the glass of water to your lips, ‘don’t swallow. You need to rinse out any nuts that might be in your teeth.’ You hummed in agreement, knowing you needed to do it too. While spitting out the water onto the pavement next to you may not have been your most elegant moment, it was necessary. People were trying to talk to you, to apologise and ask if you needed anything, but the last thing you wanted to do was reply. 

You shuffled closer into Bucky’s side, the movement almost imperceptible to anyone else as your arms tightened around him. But Bucky knew, he always knew, exactly what you needed. ‘Could you just give us a moment please?’ He asked firmly, not unkind, but leaving no room for argument. The staff from the restaurant quickly scampered back inside. 

Sat on the concrete, with your head resting on Bucky’s shoulder, you whispered, ‘I’m so sorry, James.’ Bucky turned to look down at you, a soft, sad smile on his lips. ‘You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, doll. None of this is your fault.’ You shuffled to sit up, pulling his jacket over your now curled-up body, ‘but your birthday-’ Bucky cut you off. ‘I don’t give two shits about my birthday. All I need is you to be okay.’ You smiled up at him, a soft, fleeting thing, as you promised ‘I am. I promise. You saved me, Barnes.’ 

‘I always will,’ he replied immediately. Automatically. He didn’t even need to think about it anymore. It was a vow. A promise he’d made to himself years ago. He would be there for you, always. Wherever. Whenever. ‘Let’s just not do this again next year, yeah?’ 

You laughed a little, but before you could say anything else, an ambulance pulled up in front of the restaurant and two paramedics jumped out of the van, making a beeline for the pair of you. A paramedic crouched down in front of you, a kind smile and calm air of confidence helping you feel safer. She asked you a couple of questions about what had happened, asked when the epi-pen was administered - which Bucky immediately answered with military precision - and the symptoms you were experiencing. Bucky held you close as you answered, his warm hand running up and down your back in comfort and support. He grimaced when you showed them the injection site - you could see the guilt in his eyes. 

The paramedics told you that the protocol after the use of an epi-pen was observation for a few hours in case of a secondary reaction. ‘Do I have to? I feel okay enough now, I just wanna go home and sleep.’ You made the mistake of looking at Bucky as you were speaking, immediately knowing you had no chance of him agreeing when you saw his outraged expression. ‘You’re going to the hospital.’ He said. No room for argument. You knew better than when Bucky looked like that. The other paramedic offered you her hand to help you up and into the rig, but before you could reach out of your cocoon of Bucky-based comfort, your boyfriend had scooped you into his arms. Despite feeling as grim as you did, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you as you saw his protectiveness shine through layers of concern. 

He set you down softly onto the seat in the ambulance, strapping your seatbelt across you as he sat next to you, his hand clamped around yours the whole ride, drawing unconscious circles against your hand. You couldn’t tell if he even knew who he was trying to comfort. The nausea was getting worse as the effects of the epi-pen wore off, and exhaustion kept pulling at your eyelids. ‘Just stay awake a little bit longer for me doll,’ came Bucky’s voice next to you, his hand now cradling your face, gently stroking at your cheek. You nodded into his hand, resting your head on him and existing somewhere between consciousness and sleep for the drive. You were alert enough to answer the remaining questions from the paramedics and to move your arm and hand as they needed to take your blood pressure and oxygen levels, but mostly, you just wanted to curl up into Bucky and never move again. 

You were pulled from your drowsiness as the ambulance pulled into a bay at the hospital. Once again, before you could move, Bucky had shifted you into your arms, lifting you up like you were weightless, and holding you close to his chest. He sat you down in the chair he was directed to, keeping a constant point of contact with you the whole time, as though he was afraid you’d disappear if he let you go. Once again, you moved to lean on Bucky as he wrapped an arm around you, murmuring out ‘M so tired,’ as he held you. He pressed a kiss into your hair, gently telling you ‘it’s okay baby. You sleep, I’ll wake you up if they need you.’ You barely even responded before you were out like a light. You spent the next five hours dipping in and out of sleep as and when the nurses came to check on you. 

It was 5am before a nurse came to you for a final check-up. She gave you a handful of steroids alongside a new epipen, before letting you know that, finally, you’d been discharged. You thanked her for all her help, the side effects now completely gone, and you feeling simply exhausted. You signed the papers, before Bucky pulled you into his side as you walked out of the fluorescent white building and noisy waiting froom together. 

The cab ride back to your apartment was almost silent, but as it pulled up, Bucky had paid and was out the door before you could react. He pulled open your door and gathered you in his arms. 

‘I can walk Barnes. It was an allergic reaction, not a concussion.’ 

‘Shh,’ he hushed above you, the noise vibrating through his chest as he did so, carring you up the stairs and into your bedroom. He deposited you onto your bed, helping you pull off your dress and shoes before walking over to his side of the bed, slipping into it, and pulling you over to him, so you were resting against his chest, one arm slung over his waist as you cuddled into him. The pair of you stayed like that for a while, before eventually, you whispered out in the smallest voice, ‘that was really scary.’ 

Bucky didn’t rush to respond, but let the words settle in the air around you. The truth was, you’d both been terrified. ‘Yeah, doll, yeah it was,’ Bucky spoke softly above you. That was the first time you’d ever had to use your epi-pen, and you never wanted to have to do it again. ‘But you’re okay. I got you. I always got you.’ You looked up at him, ‘How’d you know to do that?’ You asked. ‘Do what?’ He replied. ‘My epi-pen - I never told you.’ Bucky hummed, the sound rumbling through the both of you. ‘I looked it up. Right after our first date when you said you had a nut allergy. Wanted to make sure I could help you if anything ever went wrong.’

For some reason, Bucky saying that stirred something deep inside you. Never, in your life, had any other partner cared enough to know. You were always casual about the whole thing anyway, never having had a reaction before. But Bucky had listened, had cared enough to look it up himself. A stray tear fell down your face as you whispered out a slightly broken ‘thank you.’ Bucky didn’t say anything, but pressed another kiss to your hair, arms tightening around you slightly. 

‘You should sleep doll, you’re exhausted. I’m not going anywhere. Called out for the rest of the day. Rest, I’ll be right here.’ You hummed in agreement, nodding into his chest as you let the feeling of tiredness finally consume you. You fell, almost instantly, into a deep sleep, feeling safe and loved in Bucky’s arms. 

Bucky didn’t sleep that night, the aftershocks of his panic still racing through him. Instead, he kept you in his arms, watching each slow rise and fall of your breath like it was a promise, a vow that you were still okay. He sat up all night, memorising the shape of your face as you slept, counting your breaths, just feeling whole as he held you. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

One Singular Sensation

Bucky x reader oneshot - fluff

AN: I wrote this in honour of the A Chorus Line anniversary so am totally exposing myself as a theatre kid here…

Summary: You’re an actor, and tonight is the night you make your Broadway debut. Except Bucky’s called away on a mission at the last minute, and as much as it breaks his heart, he has to miss your debut. Or does he? 

The golden glow of the dressing room mirror sent a warmth right through you into your heart as waves of heat rolled off of them. Somehow, in all the years of theatre history, someone had yet to install dressing room table lights that weren’t miniature suns. But secretly? You loved it. Stepping into the dressing room, the sounds of lips trills and scales being sung. The slightly choking scent of spray on deodorant and the chemical burn of different perfumes merging together. Sides of scripts, original cast recordings, sequins and shine. It was your home. It was your happy place. It made you feel alive. 

You said hi to the other girls sharing your room as you headed to the far side of the room, to your spot. Your little home in the theatre. You dropped your bag next to your seat, pulling your hair out of the ponytail it was in, and took a second to just ground yourself in the moment. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your body buzzing with excitement and fear. Tonight is the night. You make your Broadway debut today. 

Over two decades of training. Three years of intense drama school training, where you got stripped down and rebuilt every day. Hundreds of lines learnt. And so many self-tapes. So many cuts. So many breakdowns, almost ready to throw in the towel, to resign yourself to the thought that your dream was never going to happen. 

But then it had. One self-tape sent in, three in-person recalls, and two dance rounds later, and it was happening. You felt alive, and you hadn’t even stepped on stage yet. Hell, you hand’t even done your wig prep. You shook your head slightly, a giddy smile making its way onto your face as your eyes landed where they always did. Your photo of Bucky. 

Everyone decorated their stations differently. Some people brought good luck charms, others letters from family, photos from previous shows, fairylights and sparkles. But you didn’t need any of that. Instead, you had a photo of James. It was a candid polaroid you’d taken of him on one of your first dates. He’d told you to dress comfy and surprised you with a picnic in the park. Everything was going well until a slightly too emboldened duck decided the sandwiches should be his. Bucky had chased him. All the way into the fountain. Three seconds later, you’d snapped a photo of Bucky, dripping wet, but proudly holding up the sandwich he’d rescued. 

He couldn’t be there tonight. He’d been called into an emergency situation developing out of Austin, Texas. Naturally, you’d been upset, but you knew that the world needed Bucky more than you needed him to see your show. Your job wasn’t saving lives. His was to save the world. So as he told you, eyes full of devastation, you’d pulled him into a quick kiss, before wrapping your arms around him, letting him rest his chin on your head. ‘It’s okay,’ you’d whispered into his chest, even as your heart broke a little, ‘just promise you’ll come back to me.’ He’d pressed a kiss into your hair, whispering back ‘always.’ 

You’d broken apart as his hands came up to cradle your face. ‘You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, doll. I am so, so proud of you.’ You’d pulled him into another hug, only letting go when he was going to miss his ride. He walked backwards out the door, keeping you in his sight as he grabbed his go bag. ‘I love you so much. You’re a star. I’ll be home tomorrow and we’ll celebrate, I promise.’ 

‘I love you too Buck, now go, before Sam flies up here and kidnaps you.’ Bucky let out a huff of laughter, finally shutting the door behind him. You let out a sigh to accompany your sad smile as you watched him go. He would make it up to you. These things couldn’t be helped. So, instead of dwelling on it, you got on with your day. 

You made a lemon and ginger root tea with enough honey to be an effective placebo for your brain as you drank it slowly, looking over your track. You did an vocal warm up, stretched, marked through your most difficult routine and packed your bag to go to the theatre, but not before grabbing one of the lunches Bucky had meal prepped for you ahead of tech week. Once you’d explained to him what a tech week was, and how draining it was, he took it upon himself to make your lunches for the week, wake up before your alarm to make you breakfast, and give you a massage every night when you got in. 

You picked the last lunch and spotted a bright pink Post-it note attached to the top. In Bucky’s messy scrawl: ‘You’re one singluar sensation. Good luck babe. Love you - JBB’. Your heart swelled at the sight of it, pulling the note off the top of the container and folding it into your pocket to keep. You pulled together everything else you’d need for the day: your nebuliser, steamer, vocalzones, and tea. 

You ran back into your bedroom before heading out, sneaking into Bucky’s wardrobe and ‘borrowing’ your favourite hoodie of his. You pulled it close to your face, relishing in how it smelt just like him. He could stand to miss this one for a while, you thought, pulling it over your top. You pulled on your coat and scarf, wrapping it twice around your neck, before stepping out of the apartment, locking it behind you, and heading to work. It was perhaps the coolest moment of your life when you saw your face on a poster in the subway.

Naturally, you sent Bucky a selfie of you with yourself, with the message ‘I still can’t believe it’s happening!!!’

Bucky responded almost instantly. ‘I can, babe, you’ve worked so hard, you deserve this so much x.’

You walked to the theatre from the stop, feeling slightly giddy as you ticked your name on the cast sign-in sheet. You’d been playing the playlist you made for Bucky, filled with 40s jazz standards and the soothing voice of Ella Fitzgerald, but as you stepped into the theatre, you pulled your headphones off, glittering eyes saying hello to everyone as you walked through the theatre. Soon enough you’d swap over to your character playlist to lock in to the show, so you wanted to say hi to everyone while you were in the right mind set. 

That was how you’d ended up sat under the comforting glow of the filament lightbulbs, smiling sadly, one stray tear falling from your eye before you quickly swipe it away. You lock eyes with yourself in the mirror, drawing in a deep breath which helps to centre yourself. Sophie, the girl next to you, doesn't say anything, but she offers you a tissue, alongside a comforting hand on the shoulder and a knowing look. 

The cast knew, of course, who your boyfriend was. He’d insisted on picking you up after every rehearsal you’d had, coffee in hand and bike ready to go. He’d said he ‘didn’t like’ the area your rehearsal studio was in, but it was as safe as anywhere else in New York. Honestly, you think he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you. And you’d accepted, gladly. At one of the first socials you’d gone to with the cast, you’d given them one question each to ask, knowing otherwise the fact that your partner was a god damn avenger would have sat in the room like an elephant. 

You start to pull your hair into pincurls, when one of the stage management team call your name from the door of your dressing room. You turn your head, gasping softly at the sight of 20 absolutely beautiful red roses and mountains of lavender, stunningly put together, tied up with a bow. You were so shocked you couldn’t speak. You’d already had flowers from your family, from Bucky’s team, and your agent. There was only one person that these could be from. 

‘For the girl who hung the moon in my sky. You have worked so hard for so long, and the stars have aligned to show the world just how incredible you are. I know you will be amazing - I would wish you luck, but you don’t need it. Go show them how bright you shine. All my love, James’

You stood for a moment, completely bewildered. None of your previous partners had ever done anything than belittle your passion, telling you to get a ‘real job’, and here was James Buchanan Barnes, a literal superhero, sending you flowers, on top of the ones he bought you weekly, just to remind you how much he believed in you. Your heart swelled, and for a second, when the girls asked you who they were from, you were too choked up to answer.

You walked back to your desk, flowers in hand, as you picked up the polaroid of Bucky, placing a quick kiss to it, before setting the flowers down. You’d just been called up for vocal and physical warm up, so you stole one last glance at the photo, before heading up to stage.

The next hour seemed to move at the speed of light. Before you knew it, your wig was on, makeup set, costume zipped up, and you were about to step up for beginners. As you finished a final touch-up on your bright red lip liner, your phone buzzed and lit up, bringing another image of Bucky into your view, this time, lounging half asleep, shirtless, with Alpine sleeping on his chest. Your phone showed a text from Bucky, simply saying ‘listen to me before you go on’, followed by a voice note. You let out a little chuckle, shaking your head as your brought your phone up into the wings. You’d apologise to Andi, your SM, later. 

Stood in the wings, waiting for your cue, everything suddenly felt very real. What had been excitement quickly shifted into panic. Now was as good a time to listen to Bucky’s memo as any. With now shaking hands you brought your phone up to your ear, volume the lowest it could possibly go. 

‘Hey doll,’ your breath stuttered ever so slightly as the sound of Bucky’s voice, a wave of calm already washing over you. ‘So you’re about to go on huh? I am so god damn proud of you. But if I know you, you’re probably freaking out right now. Lets see if we can do anything about that, yeah?’ Your heart immediately settled itself down a little. ‘I want you to take some breaths with me. You’re gonna breathe with me, okay?’ You nodded even though he can’t see you. ‘Breathe in with me for four, one, two, three, four. Now hold for four, three, two, one, and out again, one, two, three, four.’ You repeat with Bucky’s voice talking you through the motions three more times. When you open your eyes again, you realise that the racing heart in your chest has calmed down, and the panic that had briefly welled up inside you dissipated. 

‘You’re gonna kill ‘em, doll. I love you.’ 

You put your phone down, heart so very full that you could barely breathe. You quickly wiped the tear that had fallen on your cheek off, feeling so loved and so very seen. With a few more deep breaths, you got your head into the game and got ready to step onto the stage in perfect time. 

The next two and a half hours went so quickly that you hardly had the chance to take it all in. Your body was burning, every part of you was lit up like it was on fire. You lost yourself in the story you were telling, and before you knew it, bows were coming. Throughout the show, you’d not let your eyes scan the crowd. You knew where Bucky’s seat was, and knew it would be empty, so you chose not to look. But now it was a little harder. 

You were so proud of yourself, so, so proud, but part of you was still slightly heartbroken Bucky wasn’t there. You were angry at the world, sure. Angry at whoever it was that chose to endanger the lives of other people badly enough that Bucky needed to be involved. But you could never be mad at Bucky himself, not for helping people.

The plush red velvet house tabs lowered from the ceiling and the bow music began to play. You ran onto stage with no hesitation, reaching to meet the other half of the ensemble. You pulled forward together, finally letting yourself look out to the audience you’d yet to acknowledge in the show. 

And all at once, a grin so wide you felt like it might split your cheeks in two and all of the air in your lungs rushed out as you couldn’t help but laugh in utter joy. Because there he was. There was James, in the seat you’d got for him, in a shirt and trousers, looking up at you like you were his entire world. He was crying more than you were, freely and with no shame. As you stepped forward to take your bow, all you could hear was Bucky, cheering for you louder than you had ever heard him in your life. He was on his feet the second you walked onto the stage. The rest of the world completely melted away. In that moment, all that existed in your world was you and Bucky. 

Just you and Bucky.

The bows continued, but all you could do was stare at the man you loved. And all he did was look right back at you. As much as you’d never thought you’d think it, all you wanted was the final curtain to come down so you could run into the arms of your man. You were snapped out of it, though, as the rest of your cast pushed you forward, making you take one final bow, and sharing in the joy and celebration of your Broadway debut. You took another bow, blush coming to your cheeks as you heard Bucky call from the crowd ‘that’s my girl!’. All you could do was look at him and blow him a kiss. The adorable idiot that he was, he pretended to catch it.

The next thing you knew, you were back in the dressing room, pulled into what felt like hundreds of hugs, as your cast presented you with a signed poster for the show, each having written a little congratulatory note in white Sharpie on the page. You have no shame in admitting you cried a little. But you didn’t let it slow you down. All you knew was that Bucky was there. Somehow, he had moved heaven and earth and he was there, and you needed to see him. 

Your dresser gushed over you as she helped you out of your wig and outfit. You pulled your pincurls out with quick precision. You threw on your sweats and Bucky’s hoodie, not caring as it smuged your lipstick as you pulled it on, and ran to the stage door. And there he was, hidden away, past the groups of fans that were waiting for the cast to come out, tucked into the corner, cap pulled low over his head. He was letting you have your moment. He was stepping back to let you shine in the light. And you loved him for it. 

But all you wanted was to be in his arms. And so you flew his way in an instant, letting him lift you off your feet as his hands found your thighs and he pulled you up around him. He pulled you into a passionate kiss, one hand trailing up your back, resting at the case of your neck, fingers tangling slightly in your hair. ‘You were incredible’ he whispered into your lips. Eventually, you broke apart for air, and you brought your hands up to cup his face. ‘How are you even here right now?’ You whispered out, disbelief and joy filling your voice. 

Bucky smiled up at you, his warm blue eyes locking onto your own. ‘When I realised the situation wasn’t as severe as the intel suggested, I called in a favour. Sam owed me one anyway.’ 

‘Well,’ you laughed out, unable to keep your happiness contained, ‘we now owe him at least fifty. I just - I can’t quite believe it.’

‘I would do anything for you, doll. Anything. As long as you keep giving me the privilege of being in your life, I will move heaven and earth to stay there.’ 

‘I love you so much Bucky.’

‘I love you more.’

Finally, with a little persuasion, he let you down, taking your bag onto his shoulder. After double checking that you didn’t want to stay to stage door with the fans, he took hold of your hand, giving you his helmet as he helped you onto his bike, parked just a block away. You’d never loved that he rode it. It worried you when he was out on it on his own. You knew it was irrational, but it did nonetheless. But whenever you, his ‘precisious cargo’ were on the bike, he rode so carefully. You pressed close to his back, arms circling his waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You were home quickly, but before your feet could even touch the floor, Bucky had swept you up into his arms, claiming that they were the new money-makers of the household, and that he couldn’t risk you damaging them. You laughed, but didn’t argue, knowing that it wasn’t a battle you were going to win. 

Bucky laid you down gently on the couch, helping work your shoes off, before going into the kitchen and making you another ginger, lemon and honey tea. He’d learnt your post show routine by now, knew what you needed to relax, to cool down. Bucky took one of your feet in his hand and began rubbing it, laughing gently to himself as he saw you melt further into the sofa at the contact. 

‘I am so, so proud of you. You know that, right, Doll? The way you came to life on that stage, I’ve never seen anything like that before. You were utterly incredible, you were breathtaking. I look at that stage and all I could see was you.’ 

You sat up, placing a hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb along it, simply saying ‘thank you.’ Hoping Bucky would understand the depth of your thanks, not just for coming, but for supporting you through everything. And he did. Of course he did. He would never stop feeling guilty for even momentarily thinking about missing your opening night. But he loved you. He loved you more than life itself. And he would always be there, always find a way, for you. Always you. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Why didn’t you tell me?

Bucky x reader one shot.

Summary: You get hurt on a mission, but being new to the team and having been trained in the red room, you don’t know that you’re allowed to show pain. So, you hide the injury. But Bucky notices, he always notices. And as you sleep on the jet, he tries to help you. 

The compound around you looked deserted. ‘Second floor’s clear,’ you said into your com, turning 160 degrees to double check the pathway you had just cleared. ‘Copy that,’ Bucky’s voice crackled through the coms, ‘make your way to the next floor up and join Ava’s check. You were about to respond with a copy into your com, when something in your periphery caught your eye. 

Your eyes narrowed slightly, your brow furrowing. Tension set into your shoulders as you raised your gun back up to your eyeline. In a moment of complete stillness, you hear the dampened sound of boots hitting the floor, softened by the concrete wall separating you. Your hand is halfway to your com, about to alert the team to another presence in the facility as the world around you erupts. 

The wall on your left explodes, debris flying at you, concrete and metal piping hitting you at once, knocking you breathless to the floor. You don’t even have the time to let out a grunt of pain as soldiers pour into the room. Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the sound of your teammates communicating, but you’re too dazed to understand what they’re saying. Looking down at yourself, you spot the source of the pulsing pain radiating through your body.

A piece of metal pipe, torn and gnarled by the explosion, has embedded itself in the right side of your gut. Without thinking, you grit your teeth, yanking the pipe out with a cry of pain, before turning the sharp end in your hand, giving yourself a weapon until you can get to your gun at the other end of the room.

None of the soldiers had spotted you yet, the dust blown up from the explosion limiting the visibility their torches gave them. But it wasn’t going to stay that way for long. Leaning on another chunk of concrete, you force yourself to stand, head pushed up, defiant as the adrenaline pumping through your body dims the pain of the wound and helps to clear your head. 

‘Now that,’ you call out, voice clear and deadly in the sudden silence of the room, ‘was rude.’ 

Immediately, you launch the metal stake at the stomach of the nearest soldier, sliding across the floor to be just in front of him as he doubles over. You don’t even think as your hands grip the back of his head, pulling it down into your knee with a sickening crunch. Before the soldier had even let go of his gun, you tear it from his hands, using him as a shield from the gunfire now aimed in your direction. 

You take out two more men, before the weapon jams. With a grunt, you bring it down hard on the head of another man, momentarily incapacitating him. But before you can finish the job, white hot pain sears through your body as another soldier lands a hit right on top of your injury. Suddenly, you’re on the floor. Suddenly, you have no weapons. Suddenly, there are two men standing over you, guns trained on you and sick grins on their faces.

And then, suddenly, they’re gone. 

Now, Bucky Barnes is standing over you, looking pissed as he lowers his metal hand down to help you up. ‘I thought we agreed no more trying to die on missions,’ he quips, a hint of concern undermining the nonchalance he’s trying to show. 

‘I had it covered,’ you grumble out, almost too quickly, accepting Bucky’s hand up. The second you’re upright, the room tips, and Bucky’s hand catches your arm, stopping you from falling. His steel blue eyes lock onto yours immediately: ‘you good?’ His expression leaves no room for lies. 

But you’d forgotten. You’d genuinely forgotten your injury. Adrenaline was pumping through you so hard that you didn’t feel it. Your mind was trained on the mission, it was all you could think about. So you nodded in response, ‘I’m good,’ pulling away from Bucky as you crossed the room to pick up your discarded weapon. You feel complete with it back in your hands. 

‘Good,’ Bucky responds, any softness in his demeanour instantly gone as he snaps back into his mission headspace. ‘We gotta get out of here. The others are already on the way to the extraction point, Ava got hit pretty hard. We need to get back to the tower asap.’

You nod in response, expression slipping back into that of the dutiful soldier. Bucky turns from you, leading the way, knowing instinctively that you’ll cover his six. You always did. An unspoken agreement. An unnamed relationship. It just was. And you were fine with that. But then you took a step forward, pain raging through your body out of the wound in your stomach. 

You stumble slightly, letting out a hiss of pain between your teeth, righting yourself before Bucky can notice anything. You grit your teeth, lock your head forward and barrel onwards to the jet. Ava was hurt, badly, from what Bucky said. She needed to be the priority. Once you got to sit down on the jet, you’d be okay. You’d go to debrief, then hide back in your rooms, take care of the injury, and take it easy in training for a few days. 

Fine. No one needed to know. You were new enough to the team that you didn’t know how they’d respond to you being injured. You’d been trained to hide any weakness. Trained to think of it as an inconvenience. Trained to believe that if others recognised you needed help, you meant nothing. 

So, teeth gritted, brow furrowed, sweat running down your brow, you moved, staying close and always watching Bucky’s six. You walked through the wreckage of the compound, hyperaware of your foot placement, knowing if you went down again, it would be damn hard to get up again. The ringing in your ears still hadn’t stopped, and your hands had started shaking. Your heartbeat thundered through your body and as you made it outside into the sun light black spots started dancing in your vision. 

You didn’t catch Bucky looking over his shoulder at you, worry painting his face. You just blinked the black spots away as you carried on towards the jet. At some point, Bucky had dropped back, noticing how your gait was favouring your left side, how you moved slower and with less grace than usual. He kept his mouth shut, trusting that, if something serious had happened, you would know to speak up. He didn’t want to pressure you, didn’t want to push a boundary. 

You all but collapsed into your seat on the jet, managing to play it off with a yawn as John looked at you, eyebrow raised in silent questioning: ‘are you okay’. Thankfully, he quickly turned his attention back to Ava; her wounds were bad, but they weren’t fatal. They knocked her out with a sedative, and John was watching the monitors like a hawk. 

Yelena slumped down into her seat next to you. ‘Well, that went to shit.’ You simply nodded back, huffing out a ‘you’re telling me,’ that sounded more like a sigh than a laugh. The quiet companionship and the friendship that had grown between you and Yelena were precious to you. Her life had been like yours. You two understood things about the other that no one else ever would. So you couldn’t let her know you were hurt. She’d think you are weak. You’d lose her. 

Instead, you strapped yourself into your seat, grateful that your dark clothes were hiding the blood loss. Maybe the straps were a bit tight, but the one over the wound would help to slow the blood flow at least. Around you, the team were falling into place, all getting comfy, or as comfortable as was possible, for the six-hour flight back to base. The jet took off, and as the lights dimmed, only the glow of the monitors hooked up to Ava remained. You let the darkness pull you under. 

You gasped awake as you felt surprisingly gentle hands undoing the buckle on your seatbelt. Your eyes snapped open, but the darkness in the cabin meant it took a while for them to adjust to the world around them. All you could see was a figure, kneeling in front of you, and one of the medpacks open next to them. 

‘You’re hurt.’

It was Bucky. As he turned to look in the medpack for something, the auto-light inside it illuminated his face. His jaw was set tight, brow furrowed in something that you thought might be concern. Shit. No one was supposed to know, they were going to think your weak, think you can’t look after yourself, that you aren’t worthy of their trust. Fuck.

‘I-‘ your breath caught in your throat as it sped up in panic, ‘I’m fine, Barnes. You don’t have to-’ You fell into silence as his steely eyes locked onto yours, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. Bucky’s head turned back to the medpack, but you heard him softly say, ‘You’re not there.’ You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘Being hurt does not make you weak,’ he turned back to look at you, hands now full of saline solution, gauze, a needle and thread and some packing. ‘You are not worth less because you got injured. 

You looked away, something in your chest tightening at his words and your eyes, for some reason, becoming damp. Your cheeks flushed, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe shame, maybe both. You were grateful when you looked around the jet, that the rest of the team was still passed out. But, amidst your distraction, Bucky’s hand came to the bottom of your shirt. Your hand caught his wrist with a gasp, pure instinct. You froze there, eyes now intently locked onto Barnes. You two stayed like that for a moment before Bucky raised his eyebrows, nodding his head slightly. Trust me? You realised he was asking for permission.  With a deep breath, you let go of his wrist, allowing him to pull your shirt up enough to see the wound. 

As the fabric pulled away, it made a grotesque wet sound, met by the smallest whimper of pain that fell from your lips. Bucky’s frown deepened as he took in your injury. Frankly put, it was a bloody mess of torn skin, fresh and dried blood, and debris. ‘You don’t hide these things,’ he said, brow set in a furrow of confusion, eyes betraying just how worried he was, ‘not from me.’ He looked back up to you, ‘Never from me.’ 

You could only nod, emotion tightening your throat too much for anything else. All your life, you’d been told being hurt meant being weak. Yet here was Bucky Barnes, promising you otherwise. ‘I’ve gotta clean it first. It’s gonna hurt.’ Bucky’s voice was gentle but firm. It was either let him clean it or do it yourself. ‘I guessed as much.’ You chose the first, leaning your head back, pulling your face into an image of passivity, just like you were trained, but Bucky’s hand came to rest on your knee, drawing your attention back to him, ‘It gets too much, just say the word and we’ll pause, okay? You don’t just have to suffer through it anymore.’ 

‘Okay,’ you whispered out. Bucky worked as quickly as possible while ensuring that the wound was fully cleaned. Occasionally, you’d shift, the pain becoming too much, or you’d let out the smallest sound of pain. Each time, Bucky stopped immediately, locking eyes with you, refusing to carry on until you gave him the nod. Eventually, the wound was clean. The sad look on Bucky’s face still hadn’t fully dissipated. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, ‘So who gets to do the needlework honours today? Me or you?’ But Bucky didn’t laugh. Instead, his eyes darkened, knowing too well the number of times your trainers would have forced you to stitch yourself up, alone, with no supplies. How many times had he had to do that for himself? 

Instead of replying, Bucky rested his metal hand on your thigh, palm up. An invitation. You took hold of his hand, grimacing as he began to thread the needle. With the first stitch done, Bucky looked to you, asking, in his own attempt at humour, ‘you know I can’t feel the arm right? You’re not gonna hurt me.’ 

You suddenly realised that you weren’t squeezing it. But as Bucky threaded the second stitch, that changed. You refused to cry out, but put your trust in the strength of vibranium as you squeezed his hand with all your might, sweat beading on your forehead. 

You must have dissociated at some point, because the next thing you registered was Bucky taping some gauze over the now stitched-up wound. You let out a deep sigh, whispering out a quiet ‘thank you.’ Bucky shifted to his feet, moving to the open chair on the other side of you. You both sat in silence for a while, allowing the gentle movements of the jet to lull you both into a sense of safety. 

After a while, Bucky spoke up. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Your gaze shifted down to your hands, lips pursed, a frown now appearing on your forehead. ‘I don’t know how to do this yet. How to be in a team, how to…’ you trailed off.

‘How to let people care about you.’ Bucky finished your sentence for you, and as you turned your head to look at him in reply, it suddenly dawned on you that he’d probably felt the same way once. He nodded, looking at his hands. ‘I know how you feel. It gets easier, I promise. But please, you don’t have to do this alone. Hell, you don’t have to do anything alone anymore. Just talk to us. Talk to me. I care about you too much to watch you suffer in silence. 

Your cheeks were wet, you suddenly realised, as Bucky’s hand slowly came to your cheek to wipe away the tears that sat there. You leaned into his hand, ever so slightly. You couldn’t talk right now, but Bucky didn’t need you to. You simply looked into each other’s eyes and knew a silent promise had been made. You sat in comfortable silence for a while, in the darkness of the jet, surrounded by your family. In that darkness, you felt safe. You felt at home. 

‘You should get some sleep,’ Bucky said above you, ‘still got two hours until we’re at the tower.’ You nodded your head, slowly, tentatively, leaning over to rest your head on Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t bristle at the contact. If anything, you felt him relax ever so slightly under the weight of your upper body. 

As sleep dragged you back into its peace, you heard Bucky whisper above you, ‘I got you, doll. I got you.’ 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

He'll Always Come Part 2

Bucky x reader

Summary: You were back. You were safe. Bucky knew that. But healing isn't linear, and to be honest, Bucky was scared.

Read part 1 here

CWs: description of injuries, so much angst

You were floating. Some part of your brain was trying to claw its way back into consciousness. But you weren’t quite ready yet. Your body was trying to tell your brain that it could feel hands on you, gently lifting you up, placing you onto something soft, something that was moving. That words were being said above your head. You didn’t care. The only thing your brain was willing to acknowledge was the cool comfort of a metal hand clamped tight around your own right hand. The pain was gone now. Bucky was here. 

The second time consciousness reared its head, the world came into focus much quicker. In fact, it tore a deep gasp out of your chest. It came in the form of a deep, dull ache in your body, matched by a biting stinging sensation and the feeling of hands on your ankle. 

The sharp intake of breath, the involuntary contraction of your abs, forced your back off of the mountain of clinically white, clean pillows behind it. You forced your eyes open, blurred shapes filling your vision as you tensed the muscles in your arms. A guttural moan of pain ripped itself out from deep within you. 

The part of your brain that had woken up hadn’t registered that you were safe. That you were home. All it knew was that you were in pain, and that people in white coats were flurrying around you. That hands were on you, and where they touched, you hurt. 

‘No, god, no, please no,’ you started begging. You were back. The Red Room. They’d found you somehow. They had you. What were they doing to you? What tests had they run, what experiments had they done? Why did you hurt already? You couldn’t breathe. There was something in your throat. Some kind of tube. You couldn’t do this. No, no no no no. Not again. They weren’t getting you again. Not without a fight. 

Your arm screamed in protest as you lifted it, forcing your numb fingers into a fist while a litany of pleading still fell from your lips, getting ready to swing. Someone was at your side. 

‘Doll, it’s me! Jesus Christ, someone help her!’ A warm, gentle hand encased your fist as a cold second hand came to rest on your shoulder. Softly, you were pushed back into the pillow beneath you, tears falling across your cheekbones and running freely into your hair.

A face swam in your vision, blurry and undefinable, but clearly concerned. Huh. Something about him made you want to stop fighting. The voice above you softened, whispering low enough that only you could hear: ‘It’s okay, you’re safe. You're safe now. I’ve got you. I promise.’ The warm hand has let your own go now, moving to stroke your hair.

You didn’t have the time to think about why that voice made you want to cry in a different kind of way. Instead, you felt something cold rushing through you, a kind of cold coming from the inside, instead of the out. You were being pulled back into nothingness before you knew it, but the stroking your hair, soothing you, stayed. 

There was something on top of you. Not like before, not like the weight of waking up from being knocked unconscious. No, it was literally a physical weight. You shifted, grunting a little as you tried to move underneath it, loosely registering the brush of material on you against something else. For some reason, it was heavier on one side than the other.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, wincing a little as you took in the world around you, your skull pounding in protest at being awake. You were lying in a bed, propped up on some pillows, and from where your head rested you could see the faint glow of the room in front of you. Shifting your eyes to the side, you noticed a twinkling trail of fairylights, lighting the ceiling just enough for you to realise where you were. The med bay of the tower. 

Slowly, testing your movements to see which would let pain blare through the gentle haze of painkillers you could feel running through your body, you lifted your head. And your heart crumbled. So that was the odd weight. 

At the foot of your bed, curled over himself on the space in your mattress, was James Barnes. A smile tugged at your lips, pulling slightly on what you could only assume was a healing split lip. All you wanted in the world was to run your fingers through his hair. Throw caution to the wind and all that. 

Except the second you tried to sit up, white hot pain seared through your body, causing you to cry out in both shock and pain. Bucky was at your side before you blinked, one hand on your back, the other on your shoulder, helping lower you back into the bed. He spoke softly above you ‘Easy, baby, easy,’ as he helped move you like you were something breakable, worth all the money in the world. 

Now, laid back against the pillows behind you, you drew in a stuttering breath. ‘Hey Buck-‘ you broke off into a coughing fit, suddenly realising how dry your throat was, aftershocks of pain rolling over you. Bucky had moved again, quicker than light, to hold a plastic straw to your lips. ‘Just drink baby, don’t try and talk yet.’ You nodded, sipping the water and relishing the feel of the cold slipping down your throat. 

When you had drunk enough, Bucky moved the straw from your lips, placing it on the table next to your bed and pulling his chair up beside your bed. He was barely sat in it, hovering, anxious to jump the second it looked like you needed something. When he finally settled down, you got the chance to take a good look at him.

A sad smile fell over your face, as you raised your hand to rest on his cheek, thumb slowly stroking along his cheekbone. There were dark circles under his eyes, deep enough to tell you he hadn’t slept for days, and a cut running just below his eye down his cheek. His hair was clumped together and greasy. Oh, you realise, he hasn’t left me. 

The two of you sit like that for a moment, the flicker of fairylights and a candle in the far corner of the room the only movement in the space. Slowly, as though you might crack just from the contact, Bucky’s hand comes up to meet your own, pulling it to his lips as he presses the gentlest of kisses into your palm, before whispering out practically into your hand, ‘never do that to me again, doll.’

It was only as he moved your hand into his line of vision that you noticed the white bandage wrapped around it, the IV line pressing into your elbow, and the bruises covering the unbandaged parts of skin. You look into Bucky’s blue eyes, realising not only how shattered he looks, but how scared, how guilty. Through cracked lips, you ask ‘How bad is it?’ 

Bucky’s eyes broke away from yours. ‘I-‘ he broke off, not knowing where to start. You felt the silence heavy on your chest. ’You’ve been out for a while. You were in a bad way when we found you. The wounds on your ankles and wrists from where they’d had you,’ he chokes slightly, voice breaking, ‘where they had you chained were infected. All the ribs on your right side were broken or cracked, and one had punctured a lung. Add on top of that the concussion, the wound on your arm, the other cuts and bruises and the fact that they’d electrocuted you…’ Bucky’s voice shrunk down into a whisper and his eyes looked far away, trapped somewhere in the memory of your rescue. He swallowed uncomfortably, ‘It was touch and go for a while there.’ 

You nodded, numbly. You didn’t know what to think. So you didn’t, not yet. Instead, you looked at your boyfriend, the man you would burn the world down to save, placing your hand back on his cheek and directing his gaze to you. ‘Look at me, James,’ you asked, voice hoarse from disuse, but your heart fluttering slightly as his eyes met yours, ‘you came for me. You found me. You saved me. I’m okay.’

‘But if I’d been slower. If we hadn’t-‘

‘But you did,’ you cut him off, ‘and I knew you would.’

Bucky’s eyes broke away from you again. ‘The only reason they came for you was because of me. This is my fault, I never should’ve-‘

‘Never should have what? Loved me? Let me love you?’ Bucky looked like all the air had been knocked out of him, devastated. Your voice was gaining strength now.  You shifted in your bed slightly, Bucky’s head immediately whipping round at the sound, concern filling his eyes, which had tears flowing freely from them now. You reached out, taking Bucky’s wrist in your hand and pulling him softly towards you. He stopped at the rail of your bed, but you kept pulling, not stopping until he gingerly climbed into the bed next to you. Slowly, with Bucky taking most of your weight, helping you move, you rested your upper body against Bucky’s chest.

You couldn't do much right now, but by god, you were going to be there for him. You would hold him while he held you. He didn't get to pull away from you, not now. You would heal, together.

‘They took so much from us, James. So much. They don’t get to take you too. I love you. I love you in spite of the fear that every day we step onto a battlefield where you could be taken away from me. I love you so much my chest hurts and my heart sings. I love you, and if that means every once in a while I have to watch my boyfriend rage out against some assholes who underestimated how hard it would be to break me to get to you, then so be it. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, and nothing on this world is going to change that.’ 

‘I just love you so much,’ Bucky croaked out above you, vibrations in his chest rumbling in your head slightly and tears falling into your hair. ‘I can’t lose you.’

‘I love you too. I’m not going anywhere.’ 

You lay there, wrapped in each other's arms for a while. Bucky brought your bandaged wrists to his lips, softly kissing them, one at a time, as you looked around the room again. You suddenly realised how odd it was that a hospital room had fairy lights and candles. On your bedside table was a photo of you and the team, and next to it, three books, all making up a trilogy you’d been talking about wanting to read. On the other side was a jar with a skull on top of it, filled to the brim with gummy snakes and next to it, a bag of Darkmilk chocolate buttons…your favourite. At the foot of your bed was a red guardian teddy bear. 

Above you, Bucky saw you take in the room. ‘They’ve all been asking about you.’ You look up at him. ‘The team. The photo’s John’s, the fairylight and candle are from Yelena, something about the Red Room and waking up in soft light. Bob snuck those sweets past five doctors to make sure you could have them, and Ava dropped the books off, said she’d been meaning to lend them.’ Bucky huffed out a grumble of laughter, ‘I reckon you can guess who the bear is from.’

Warmth overflowed in your heart. John knew you’d need to be reminded of your found family, happy and strong. Yelena knew the trauma of waking up after a Red Room surgery, the bright lights and loud noises. So she’d brought soft lights and homey scents. You’d told Bob about your secret sweet tooth, the one that only came out when you were sad or on your period, months ago. He’d remembered. And those books on your bedside stand? They were brand new. Your family had seen you. Really seen you, and done everything in their power to let you know.

Eventually you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the arms of the man who loved you, knowing your family were near by, that they loved you, and that they would keep you safe. 

You didn’t know that the rest of the team had set up a guard outside your room, taking shifts, swapping in and out, making sure you were safe, that if you needed anything, they were there. You quickly figured it out, however, as you heard Bob’s giddy voice fail to quietly whisper to someone ‘They just look so cute.’ It was the telltale sign of Alexi’s phone camera going off that woke you up - he insisted on keeping his ringer on at all times. 

Your eyes drifted open to see the whole team crowded around your bed. You didn’t say anything, just smiled up at them. No one left your room that night. None of the doctors commented. They simply brought more chairs in. You needed your family, and they needed to see that you were okay, and who was going to deny any of you that. 

AN: Here's part two! I hope it doesn't disappoint! Honestly, I'm shocked by the love part one has gotten, so thank you all so, so much! This writer is feeling loved and appreciated x

taglist for this part: @atwingeofenvy @buckyinmyuniverse @resting-confused-face @saucysasha2035 @wandanatissuperior @crazypuppynight

[figtreesandmoonlight]

One of Those Days

Bucky x reader one shot

Summary: You'd had one of those days. A truly, tremendously shitty day. And you can't hold it all in much longer. Thankfully, Bucky's waiting for you at home, ready to help you however you need.

AN: I'm having such a bad scoliosis flare-up and decided we all needed some quick fluff. just so much fluff

It was just one of those days. You’d slept through your alarm, so you had to run to work without your lunch, or even being able to kiss Bucky goodbye. You got caught in the rain on your commute without an umbrella, the subway was busy, and of course, it was the one day your boss had actually come in early enough to notice you being late. You sat down to work, and the dull ache at the bottom left of your spine made itself known. 

You let out a deep sigh. It was going to be a long day. 

You took some painkillers almost straight away, knowing that when your scoliosis wanted to make itself known, it would stop at nothing. Then you buried yourself in work. You were criminally overworked and underpaid, with three major deadlines for the partners coming up. Missing them wasn’t an option. This meant that you never left your desk to get lunch, let alone a cup of coffee. You weren’t sure you could walk with how your spine was acting up anyway. It’s just one of those days, you thought to yourself.

About halfway through your day, your boss felt the need to come over and remind you how replaceable you were, and how important those deadlines coming up were. You could hardly tell if he wanted you to keep working or just give up. Just a bad day, just gotta get through it. 5pm rolled around, and people started leaving the office. Then the usual ‘stay laters’ left at 6. You were the last one left in the building by 8. 

After finally finishing the third report, you stood up from your desk, cringing at how the pain spread from the base of your back up and across your shoulder blade. You’d officially had enough. You packed your bag, saying goodnight to Gary the cleaner on your way out. Except the second you left the building, a cab tore through the massive puddle that had formed next to the curb of your office, leaving you covered in too much water for you to find it at all funny. You grit your teeth. It’s okay, you told yourself, you’d be home soon. You can fall apart there. Just gotta get home.

But then your train was late, meaning even more people piled onto the next one, someone shoving you into someone else, and another person treading on your foot. And naturally, when you got to your stop, it had started raining again. You hiked your bag higher up onto your shoulder, your back screaming in protest as you let out a little groan. You could feel the tears welling up already. 

By the time you reached the front door of your apartment, your hands were shaking, a mix of the chronic, nagging pain of your back and the feelings of defeat from such a terrible day threatening to overwhelm you. It took two attempts to get your key into the lock. 

As you slipped inside, something in you crumbled. You leant against the door, bag falling from your shoulder and eyes closing. As the sound of calming jazz swirled around you, you felt the tears sneak up on you once more. 

‘Hey, baby, you okay?’

You opened your eyes to see James stood looking back at you, grey sweats and red henley painting him as the image of comfort. His face was painted with a gentle concern as he leaned in the doorframe to the living room. You could barely manage to shake your head before Bucky had crossed the hallway in two quick steps, pulling you into his chest, letting you hide your face in his neck as he rested his chin on your head. The smell of sandalwood and smoke and safety engulfed you. 

You stayed like that for a moment, Bucky giving you the feeling of comfort and warmth that you needed. The first crack inside you mended. Gently, Bucky pulled away from you, worried blue eyes peering down at you as he pulled you into his side instead, his metal hand coming up to cup your face as it came to rest on his chest. His other hand picked up your bag without him even needing to look away from you. ‘Let’s go to the living room, yeah?’

His hand slips around your waist, holding you close to him, letting his warmth surround you, as though he could physically take some of the emotional weight pushing you down if he tried hard enough. He settled you down on the couch, helping you take off your coat and boots, pulling your favourite fluffy blanket over you as he shifted so you could rest on his chest. 

Once your breathing evened out and the tears had stopped falling, Bucky slipped away quickly, returning in seconds with your favourite tea, lemon, ginger and a shit tonne of honey. He handed it to you alongside a kiss on your forehead. ‘Is your back playing up hun?’ You nodded in response, with a little ‘yeh’.

Bucky slowly manoeuvred the two of you so that you were sitting between his legs, facing away from him. He helped you out of your shirt, before gently pulling your hair over your left shoulder and kissing the crook of your neck where your hair had been. Without needing to say anything, Bucky started to gently massage your back, his metal hand using its heater function that Shuri had insisted he install ‘just in case’ when he’d started dating you. He didn’t know if she knew or not, but was damn grateful either way. 

Under the gentle pressure of Bucky’s hands massaging your upper back, he could slowly see the sadness of the day melting out of your body. ‘Do you wanna talk about it?’ He asked gently, not pushing, but offering, letting you know he would listen if you needed to talk. You let out a small sigh, your shoulders deflating even more, and your head dropping as you told Bucky about your simply terrible day.

You finished telling Bucky about your day, your back pain, and your horrible boss as he finished working on your lower back. You shuffled round to face him, although not quite able to meet his eyes. ‘It’s stupid, I know. I know it could be so much worse, everything just built up, and I’m gonna start my period any day now, and I just…’ you trailed off, embarrassed that such little things had been able to work you up so much. 

‘Hey,’ Bucky said, his hand moving to rest along your jawbone and cheek, tilting your head up until you were looking at his blue eyes staring at yours, full of compassion and love, ‘it’s not stupid. Stuff builds up. You’ve had a shit day, and you’re in pain. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You don’t have to be perfect with me, doll. You can fall apart, and afterwards, I’ll help put you back together.’

You didn’t reply; instead, you moved closer to Bucky, pulling him into a tender kiss. When you break apart, you stay close to each other as you whisper, ‘I love you, James.’

‘I love you too.’

You all but collapse into him, head resting on his chest as he pulls the blanket up over both of you. ‘You don’t gotta do anything else today, doll. I’ll order in your favourite and we’ll put a film on. Hell, I’ll even carry you to bed,’ Bucky pulls you tighter into him, ‘Just let me take care of you, okay?’ You nod into his chest, feeling the remaining cracks from the day start to repair themselves as Bucky surrounds you with love. You’re home, and you have Bucky. Everything’s going to be okay. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

He'll Always Come

Bucky x reader one shot 

part 2 is here

Summary: You were taken. You don’t know by who, but they want to know about Bucky, and you’ll die before you tell them a thing about your boyfriend. You just need to bide your time, because he’ll come. He always comes. 

TWS: Assault, injured reader, descriptions of violence & torture

You laugh as you spit a mouthful of blood out onto the cold stone floor beneath you. It looks oddly vibrant under the bright fluro lights above you. Everything in you hurts; there’s a gash on your forehead that has been bleeding so long the blood has dripped into your eye, half blinding you, your breath seems concerningly bubbly every time your lungs expand, and a litany of black and blue bruises is currently making artwork of your skin. 

But you laugh. You laugh at the man in front of you. Because simply put, he’s a fucking idiot. He’s wearing a balaclava that you’re sure makes him feel really powerful and masculine as he beats you. That and the horror movie-esque metal tray of ‘toys’ next to him. He’s shown you how he likes to ‘play’. You’re not a fan.

But still, you laugh. As it sends the man into another bout of rage, you laugh. As his fists slam into your ribs, forcing your body to unconsciously curl in on itself, you laugh. As he picks up a cattle prod from the tray and begins electrocuting you, you laugh. 

You manage to grind out, ‘you are so fucked.’

Because you know Bucky will come. Through the pain searing through your body, you hold onto that fact with certainty. Bucky was coming. And he would make sure you got home. 

So while currents of electricity are tearing their way through your body, you laugh.

Consciousness had come to you slowly. You’d become aware of a dull ache spreading through your body, seemingly without a source, pulsing in intensity every time your heart beat. It was made worse in the places where your body held contact with the ground beneath you, cold and hard, adding a bone-deep stiffness to your body. 

You tried to move your arms first, but each limb felt like it was weighed down by some invisible blanket. You were faintly aware of a cool chill and the dull sharpness of metal circling your ankle. Your hearing came next, a dull ringing in your ears giving way to the constant sound of a drip of water, too regular to be a simple leak. 

You lay in the cold space for a while, it could have been a minute, it could have been 30 as you floated between consciousness and sleep. It was a violent wave of nausea that finally forced your eyes open and your body upright, your blurry eyes scanning the space around you for somewhere to throw up. Your hazed mind moved on instinct, your muscles screaming out as you dragged yourself towards the bucket your eyes had managed to lock onto. Your body forced out anything it had in it. 

You collapsed next to the bucket, gasping in lungfuls of air as a sheen of sweat settled across your brow. Once you’d caught your breath, you blinked harshly, determined to bring the world around you into focus. You almost wished you hadn’t. 

The first thing you properly registered was the harsh, cold lights above you, casting everything in an aggressively bright light. The next was the way the light bounced off the chain that ran from a too-tight cuff on your right ankle to a bolt in the centre of the space. The walls and floor were concrete. There was a constant stream of water running from a pipe in the far corner of the room, which stopped a few feet above the ground, splashing all over and keeping the floor soaked at all times. 

You felt more nauseous as your eyes tracked a trail of crimson water from where you’d woken up, to where you now sat. 

You took stock of yourself, scarily aware that you had to be bleeding somewhere, but you could barely feel any sensation in your body. You were still in your tactical trousers, but your tactical vest had been replaced with a black one, meaning while you were unconscious, someone had taken it off and undressed you to put you in this new top. The thought made you shiver. 

Your knuckles were bruised and cut, and your ankle already had a circle of skin rubbed raw and bleeding around the tight cuff they’d put on you. It was so tight that you couldn’t see, but you could feel, small teeth on the inside of the cuff, digging into your skin, pulling more blood from you. Somehow, you just felt oddly grateful you could feel that part of your body. There was a deep gash running down your right arm, steadily releasing a stream of blood down your arm that you still hadn’t felt.

You’d been drugged. That much was clear. You shut your eyes again, taking a deep breath, an odd pressure pushing back against your lungs as you did so. You started grasping at straws of memory that were trying to evaporate into your mind. Bucky had just come home from a solo mission. You’d left your apartment in Brooklyn to meet him at the compound with the rest of the team. You’d all planned a night of celebration; Val had sent you all on separate missions recently, and you’d missed your team. It was the first night you were all back in town. You’d stopped at Alfonso’s on the way to the tower to grab the latest Thunderbolts merch for Alexi and then…

And then you’d walked back out onto the street and turned down the same alley Bucky always begged you not to use. You dragged your hand up to the side of your neck, grimacing as you felt the trail of crusted blood between your fingers. You didn’t even wince as your head fell back into the cold concrete behind you. Someone had jumped you, shot something into your neck before you’d had the chance to react. The world had slipped away beneath you. 

Damn. You would’ve liked those Cheerios. 

You sat like that for a while, listening to the sound of the water pooling in the room and dripping down the drain. You scanned the room again. Concrete floor and walls, a bolted door with no windows, ceiling with vents and the fluro beams in it, but not much else. No bed, no chair, nothing to turn into a weapon, but there was a damp mattress in the corner across from the water pipe. And surveillance cameras. You’d clocked them as soon as you’d woken up. You shuffled closer to the centre of the room, getting some slack in the chain around your ankle to inspect it. It was steel, and it was too thick to hope you could snap it, even with your enhanced strength.

The feeling in your body had returned in waves, and now, sat in the middle of the room, you hurt. There was an ache in your bones, more than just the drug wearing off, your ankle burned with pain whether you moved or not, and your arm was practically screaming at you, now letting out a concerning amount of blood.

Bastards hadn’t even had the decency to wrap it. 

You huffed as you used your good arm and teeth to tear off a strip of the tank they’d put you in, before shuffling over to the water pipe, saying a prayer it was clean water, and shoving your arm under it. The sting brought tears to your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you gritted your teeth and tied the strip of fabric over the wound, hoping at least this way you wouldn’t die from blood loss. 

Using your good arm, you scooped a few mouthfuls of water from the pipe, assuming that was what it was there for. You could taste something like iron as you swallowed, but your body’s need for water outweighed any other concern. 

This was fine. It was annoying, and you were gonna get yelled at by Bucky for SURE, but all in all you were okay. If whoever had you wanted you dead, you would already be. You were an ex-widow. What’s the worst they could do? 

You were left on your own for at least a day, no demands or extra pain, but that also meant no med supplies, no food, no way of figuring out who had you and why. The lights stayed on the whole time, and the water never stopped running, so despite the purple bruises settling under your eyes and the exhaustion gripping your body, you didn’t sleep. It didn’t bother you too much; you never could sleep without Bucky anyway. 

It was some point on the second day that you heard the sound of boots marching down a hall near you. You braced yourself as the door swung open, showing three built men dressed in black, all with guns trained on you. You didn’t move, didn't flinch. 

They stormed over to you, eerily silent as one purposely hauled you up by your bad arm, the sudden jolt of pain forcing a gasp out of your mouth, which turned into a cry as one of the other guards roughly grabbed at your chained ankle, unbolting the chain from the floor. The room swam and you tilted, the effects of bloodloss and no food starting to show. The guard attached something to the end of the chain, and you didn’t get a chance to try and figure out what it was before electricity shot through it, burning through your body, making all of your muscles tense in agony, and you cry out in pain. The only reason you didn’t fall to the floor was the guard still holding you up. 

‘Don’t even think about trying anything’ one of the men spat at you. You were now flanked, one man on either side, with the third, gun trained on you and the device in his other hand. Out of nowhere, a hood was pulled over your head, and a sharp shove on your back nearly had you spilling onto the floor before the two guards started marching you forward. 

Smart. They knew better than to let you see the facility. 

You tried to log the route you took, right first, then two lefts and a long corridor. You were pulled to a sudden stop as you heard the sound of a door unbolting. You were shoved forward once more, before being unceremoniously dumped into a metal chair. The pain radiating from your ankle and the sound of the chain clanking told you they’d rebolted you to something, and your hands were forced to the arms of the chair as more cuffs locked over your wrists. Finally, the hood was roughly ripped from your head, taking a handful of your hair with it.

You blinked once, twice, clearing your vision and getting accustomed to the new lights around you. A headache was forming in the back of your skull. Your wrists and ankles were trapped, and trying out your strength on them did nothing, although whether that was because of the metal or your weakness, you didn’t know.

That was when your eyes trained on the figure sitting on a chair, just hidden by shadows. You tilted your head slightly, sizing the man up as your lips pulled into a slight smirk. 

‘Ooo,’ you cooed out, ‘is this where you threaten my life?’

The reply you got was another shock of electricity tearing through your body, the fire of it burning strong, but you refused to cry out. Panting, you saw the figure across stand up and step into the light. 

‘Ugh,’ you complained, ‘that balaclava really isn’t doing much for you. A bit on the nose for the villain look isn’t it?’. 

You heard the crack of his fist connecting with your face before you felt the burn of it. You could feel the blood trickling hot down your face. 

‘Why don’t you let me do the talking, love.’ Huh, so the guy who took you was British. You could have some fun with that. ‘Some friends of mine would like some one-on-one time with the Winter Soldier, and a little birdie told me you’re the person who knows him best. So, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna tell me what I want to know, or we’re gonna have a bit of fun,’ he threatened, gesturing to a metal table you hadn’t seen until now. It had clamps, pliers, blades and a hell of a lot of other stuff on it. 

That was a mistake. You couldn’t care less if you got hurt. It was absolution for your sins. But not Bucky. They were going to get jack shit from you. Your boyfriend was one protective man, hell, he was probably already on the way to you. Your new friend could meet him then.

And so it began. You never thought you’d feel grateful for your time in the red room, but you were wrong. He asked you a question, you refused to answer, you got punished. You weren’t sure how long the cycle went on for, but at some point, the comedy of the situation hit you. He kept pressing, where is Barnes, how do we get to him. You couldn’t help but laugh, because he was coming, oh he was coming, and no one other than you was going to get out of here alive. 

That was when the cattle prod got involved. Your mind had completely disassociated from your body. Pain had already overwhelmed all of your senses. The bite of the prod was simply another wave in the sea of hurt you were swimming through. That was why you hadn’t clocked it. The sound of gunfire outside the room you were in, the sight of Ava phasing into the room, slamming open the door while taking out one of the guards. It was John’s voice that brought you somewhat back to the room.

‘Shit,’ he called out as his eyes locked on your frame, broken and bloody, ‘Bucky, we got her!’ 

Somewhere in the haze of pain your brain was floating in, you registered the softness of two hands so tenderly cupping your cheeks. Two blue eyes were staring into your own. Bucky’s. They were Bucky’s eyes. The ringing in your ears subsided a little as his voice broke through the clouds, ‘Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s me, Doll, can you hear me?’ You could only blink in response, your head lolling from side to side in Bucky’s hands.

‘Jesus Christ, what have they done to you,’ Bucky whispered under his breath, voice cracking with emotion and eyes filling with rage as he did. ‘Okay, Doll, we’re gonna get you out of here.’  His eyes quickly tracked your body, gritting his teeth, vein in his neck popping, and jaw clenching as his eyes caught sight of the chains holding you to the chair and the blood pooling around them. ‘Lena!’ He barked out, ‘get her out of these.’ 

Yelena had frozen in the doorway to the cell when she had caught sight of you, of just how bad you looked, how broken you were. But Bucky’s voice sprang her into action. She sprinted over to the two of you. ‘Hey sunshine,’ she said to you softly, eyes trying to lock onto your own, ‘I need to get you out of these, but it might hurt.’ Again, all you could do was blink. 

Yelena worked quickly, picking the lock on each cuff, whispering broken apologies to you every time she jolted the restraints, causing you to flinch or hiss. ‘I will kill them all,’ Yelena swore as she managed to pop open the first cuff, pain and horror filling her at the sight of your mangled wrist, the torn skin and trickles of blood. 

‘No,’ Bucky growled out, still cradling your face in his hands, ‘I will.’ 

From there, Yelena made quick work of the rest of the cuffs while John and Ava took out the remaining agents and Alexi worked through the troops pouring in outside. But Bucky couldn’t move. He couldn’t leave you. Not now. Not again. He held you so softly, so gently, like you were broken porcelain, about to fall apart. He couldn’t let you go. He was scared who he would become if he did. Because right now, Bucky needed blood, needed to make those who hurt you sorry. But you needed him more. And you came first. Always. Unquestioningly. It was you. You, above all else. 

It was Yelena telling him, ‘she’s out’ that snapped Bucky back to himself. He looked at you again, noticing something closer to awareness in your face. ‘Doll, can you hear me?’ He asked, praying to whatever god was above that the answer would be yes. Somewhere between the first and the last cuff coming off, you’d drifted closer back to yourself, and now, the look of Bucky, of his blue eyes seeing straight into you, drew you back fully. You nodded, grinding out an ‘I’m here, Buck.’ 

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. ‘Thank god. Okay, I need to get you out of here,’ John and Ava had moved into the hallway to help back up Alexi, clearing a path for your extraction, while Yelena waited to cover your and Bucky’s six. ‘Do you think you can stand?’ You nodded in response, moving to throw your good arm over Bucky’s shoulder, while his metal arm circled your waist, taking as much of your weight as possible, whispering a litany of apologies as you winced when his hand brushed your injuries. He pressed a quick kiss into your hair, before saying, ‘on three, yeah? One, two, three.’ 

Even with Bucky taking nearly all of your weight, you couldn’t stop yourself tipping straight over, the room spinning like a tornado in your line of vision. ‘Shit,’ Bucky responded immediately, catching you just before your body collided with the floor. He held you for a moment, eyes searching yours, ‘Jesus doll, have they given you any food at all?’ It was the most you could do to shake your head and grind out a ‘no.’ 

Bucky took a sharp breath in, his eyes filling with rage, his jaw tensing as he swore, ’Bastards. I’ll fucking kill them.’

Without another word, Bucky swept you up into his arms, apologising as he saw your face briefly scrunch in pain at the movement. ‘John,’ he said into his earpiece, his voice now steely cold, ‘we’re moving.’

‘Copy that,’ he replied, ‘You’ve got a clear exit.’

The route out of the facility was a blur to your mind. You were once again floating in a state of hazy numbness. Flashes of your family fighting registered in your brain, but all you could really think now was that you were safe. Bucky had come, like you knew he would, and you were going home. All you could focus on was the warmth radiating from Bucky and the rhythm of his heartbeat that you could feel where your head rested on his chest. 

Suddenly, light and cold air burst around you. Your body responded with a gasp, and Bucky shifted, holding you even closer to his chest in response, as if he could shield you from the world, even the cold. 

You were being laid down on something soft, the medical bed on the quinjet, a part of your brain registered. But all that kept running through your brain was that Bucky came. Bucky came, and I’m going home. A constant warmth held your right hand; you knew it was him. A litany of words spilt into your ears, and while their meaning was lost on you, you knew the deep voice above you was his. Something cool spread through your body, lulling you closer and closer to unconsciousness. You softened, the remaining tension falling from your body as you let it pull you towards a calm, safe, and happy in the knowledge that you’d kept Bucky safe, that he had you now, and you were going to be okay. 

AN: i honestly have no idea where this one came from, it kind of just did! I feel like it's asking for a prt 2, so keep your eyes open and lmk if you wanna be tagged in it!

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Take a Break

Bucky Barnes x Reader one-shot 

Summary: Bucky gets called away on a mission, finally giving you time to work on your PHD. But your brain loves to take things a little bit too intensely, and suddenly it's 48 hours later, Bucky is home, and you're still working without a break. Cue absolute mountains of fluff.

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint

Content Warnings: none 

Your brain was turning to mush. Actual mush. As in pour it into a cup with some ice and it would look like a frozen daiquiri mush. But with your brain being mush, you couldn’t recognise its mushiness…how much it had mushed? Mushhhhh. Mush was a good word. 

Said mushiness had been caused by the fact you’d been sitting, staring at your computer screen for the last 48 hours…at least. You hadn’t planned it. You never planned when your brain would decide to hyperfixate on something. It just kind of happened. 

Usually, your loving, supporting, and crucially patient boyfriend was around to help battle the tides of obsession that took over you. You decided that you were going to become the world's best plant mum and have the greenest thumb on the planet? He helped pick out the plants that were hardest for you to kill. And when your obsession with greenery passed? Well, safe to say Bucky is pretty protective over his plant children now. And that time you’d decided you were going to knit all of your and Bucky’s clothes for the winter? He’d helped pick out the wool and later untangled your sleeping body from rolls of wool when you’d passed out in the middle of making jumper number 4.  

You’d warned Bucky when you’d first started dating that you and your brain could be a lot sometimes. That, thanks to your ADHD, you constantly had to be doing something. That you’d pick up a new hobby which you would cling to like a lifeline for a week, before never touching it again. That sometimes you’d get so into something you were doing that your brain forgot to do basic things like sleep and eat. You weren’t being consciously self-destructive; you just forgot certain things, you needed to run at the speed of light, or you stopped being able to function. 

You were worried you’d scare him off. But about three weeks into dating Bucky, a hyperfixation with Lord of the Rings hit, and it hit hard. But instead of telling you you were crazy, or laughing at your attempts to memorise all of the Durin bloodline or learn Elvish, Bucky pulled out the recliner on the sofa, bought you popcorn and sweets, pryed a book away from your hands, replacing it with a drink and food, wrapped you up in a blanket and sat you in front of the first film. He even let you talk his ear off, and tell him about Viggo breaking his foot by kicking an orc in the second film or Orlando Bloom breaking his ribs. He sat with you through the obsessive storm, made sure you ate, drank and slept, and didn’t run or judge you. When all your life, so many others had. 

But after a blissful morning wrapped in Bucky’s arms as golden sunlight poured through the blinds and you sipped the coffee he made you every morning, Bucky had been called out for a mission. It was a two-day job, he reassured you, recon and surveillance only. ‘No risk, you didn’t need to worry.’ You always worried.  He kissed the frown off your forehead as he packed a bag, laughed as you dragged him back into bed for one more cuddle, whispered promises that he would be back safe and soon into your hair. He’d walked out the door backwards, keeping you in his sight as long as possible before he stepped out into the world. 

You’d lain in bed for a while after he’d left, your face buried in his pillow, breathing in his scent and trying not to think about where he was headed and what he was going to do. He would come back. He always did. So eventually, you dragged yourself out of bed, feeling fuzzy, happy, and safe. You’d strolled into the kitchen to find a second coffee Bucky had left for you on the side with a post-it note underneath it. 

I love you. Be safe. See you soon - JBB x

Your heart swelled at the sight of it as you pulled the warm mug into your hands. You lit a candle as you strolled through your shared apartment to the computer at your desk. Vanilla filled the air. 

As much as Bucky was the perfect partner, the one thing he wasn’t very good at was letting you get on with your work; which made things difficult when you were in the second year of your PHD. It wasn’t that he wasn’t ridiculously proud of you, hell, he brought up your research to other people more than you did and had spent weeks getting you to explain it to him so he could. He was ridiculously proud of you. But he loved you, and wanted to spend time with you. You settled into a nice routine, he’d come home from work and read for an hour or two while you finished up writing for the day, then you’d settle together for the night. 

But whenever he took time off or missions were quiet and he had extra days at home, he was less restrained. You’d be working for no more than an hour in the morning before Bucky would be pressing hot kisses into the back of your neck. You’d return to the computer only for Bucky to come straight over and ask if you wanted to go out and do something. He’d pout, asking for cuddles, and you were doomed. 

That was exactly how your last week had gone. God bless deadline extensions. You prayed that if you managed to get this chapter in by the end of the weekend, you wouldn’t get called into a meeting with your supervisor. So, you’d decided that working on your PHD was the perfect distraction from Bucky being away on a mission. You could get the work done, and have more time to spend with Bucky when he came back. It was a simple win-win. Or it should have been. 

Somewhere between proofing an article for a journal submission and finding a new manuscript copy of the play you were currently working on, with different line distribution and a whole extra scene in it, you’d lost track of time. You remembered finishing Bucky’s coffee and thinking you should get another one soon. It couldn’t have been that long ago. But your brain felt like it was on fire, the good kind of fire where you can practically feel the neurons firing in your brain as your theory developed and you were establishing the validity of the new source in front of you. You couldn’t stop now, you’d lose progress, lose the flow state your brain was in. You were doing too well. Except somewhere amongst the hours, productivity turned into blind working, and blind working turned your brain to mush.

What that meant was that when the door to your and Bucky’s apartment opened, you didn’t hear it. As Bucky’s boots softly padded through the hallway, you missed it. When he placed his duffle in the entryway of the study with a little sigh, you didn’t notice. Bucky’s eyes squinted slightly as he leaned in the doorframe, body tired with exhaustion, but no worse for wear, as a little frown creased his brow. He stood for a second, a mix of fondness and concern colouring his face as he realised you were still in the same pyjamas you were wearing when he left. His eyes flicked around the room, scanning quickly for any signs to tell him what you’d been up to while he was away. 

From the look of the room, the only thing you’d done was sit. So, Bucky thought, hyperfixation it is. Bucky straightened in the doorway, taking a small step towards your hunched-over form, lit only by the now nearly burnt-out candle flickering beside you and the harsh white glow of your laptop screen. Bucky softly cleared his throat, consciously making his steps louder as he moved towards you, trying his best not to startle you. You didn’t turn around to acknowledge him, merely grumbled out a gentle ‘hey Buck’ over your shoulder and carried on writing. 

Bucky was just behind you, you could feel the warmth radiating off of his body, drawing you towards him like a magnet. Huh, you hadn’t realised it’d gotten cold. Slowly, Bucky’s rough, calloused hands snaked their way over your shoulders as his head came to rest on top of yours. His voice sent vibrations through your head as he asked, ‘Hey doll, wanna tell me what you’re working on?’ pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

Your brain still hadn’t properly registered Bucky’s presence in the room. You mumbled out something that almost sounded like ‘PHD stuff’, your voice groggy from not being used for the last two days. Bucky nodded above you, shifting now to be at your side as he crouched down, his legs aching a little in complaint. Bucky’s whole demeanour softened the second he got a proper look at your face. He knew the signs. Your eyes had bruising around them, so dark he could tell you hadn’t slept, and your lips had been picked and chewed to pieces. 

Without a word, Bucky span your chair around to face him, and when your eyes stayed glued on the computer screen, making you look almost like a meerkat, he let out the softest of laughs before oh so gently lifting his hands to your face, cupping it in his hands, his thumbs stroking lightly over your cheekbones as he turned your head to lock eyes with him.

Almost immediately, all thoughts of work dissipated from your brain, leaving you in a slightly dazed state as you finally registered the presence in front of you. The purest smile bloomed across your face as you recognised Bucky with you, and he noticed, whispering out a soft ‘there you are,’ at your smile. Your hands came up to meet Bucky’s on your face, placing yours over the top of his, before moving to cup Bucky’s face, his stubble tickling your hands slightly as you drew him in for a delicate kiss. Your breath caught slightly in your throat as your lips collided, the joy of getting to exist with Bucky still overwhelming you from time to time. Your hand moved to tangle into his hair. You felt him breathe out. Eventually, you pulled apart. 

‘You came back to me.’ You said gently as a sudden wave of tiredness crashes over you, pulling your body and mind more into the present with every second. Bucky was your anchor. He always was. ‘Promised you I would, didn’t I?’ He chuckles, ‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’ Bucky’s hands left your face, coming to rest on your knees. A look of slight concern entered his face, his brow creasing slightly as his eyes filled with a worry he was trying to push down. ‘How long you been sitting here, love?’ 

You genuinely don’t know. ‘I…’ you turn back to look at the computer screen, drawing in a deep breath, filling your lungs with the kind of ache you get taking a deep breath for the first time in a while. Your eyes widened slightly as you saw the date and time blinking back at you. Your head snapped back to Bucky, who was watching you like you were the whole world. Panic suddenly filled you ‘Shit. Since you left, I- I swear I didn’t -‘ 

‘Hey, hey, it’s okay,’ Bucky interrupts, his metal hand coming to rest on your cheek once more, the coolness of the metal feeling wonderful against your tired skin, tingling and fresh. You lean into it, letting out a sigh and looking into his eyes. The concern that had filled them had now gone, swapped out with something else, not pity, not worry, but the kind of look that promises you’re going to be loved, looked after. 

Bucky rises to his feet, metal hand moving to grab your wrist and helping you to your feet, holding you up when you wobble and tilt slightly from the change in blood flow. His flesh arm wraps around your waist, tucking you close into his side as your arms wrap around him in a tight hug. You look up at him with soft love, asking ‘was the mission okay?’ Bucky nods down to you, the look of love still plastered over his face as he kisses your forehead, ‘it was.’ 

Moving as one, you both walk into the kitchen. Bucky guides you towards the sofa, gently placing you down on the plush cushions, before he kicks off his boots, moving to a cupboard and grabbing two glasses, filling them with water, one for each of you. ‘Here you go doll, can you drink this for me?’ You gently nod up to him, suddenly realising how tired you actually are, draining the cup in one as you at once feel and quell the thirst in your body. You haven’t slept for two days, and you can’t remember the last time you ate something. A chill has set into your body at some point that you can’t seem to shake off. 

But Bucky knows, just from a look, what you need. He dances around the room, flicking on the side lamps, knowing your deep aversion to ‘the big light’, before draping your favourite fluffy blanket over your shoulders, practically cocooning you in it. You hear rustling behind you as Bucky pulls a container out of the fridge, pouring its contents into a bowl. You hear the low hum of the microwave behind you and can smell Bucky toasting some bread. 

Before you know it, your gentle giant of a black retriever boyfriend is standing in front of you, and in his hands, a pair of fluffy socks. Wordlessly, he kneels in front of you, slipping a sock onto each foot, before placing two gentle kisses on your ankles. Your hand reaches under his chin, guiding him to you as you place a kiss on his lips. Your foreheads rest against one another as you breathe each other in, feeling grounded, safe, feeling at home, in one another's presence. 

Then Buck slips away again, but not before placing another kiss on your head. He reappears only seconds later, his hands full of bowls and bread. He hands you one of them before settling next to you on the sofa. Immediately, you shuffle over to Bucky, drawn into his side and sitting so your head is resting against his chest. In the silent comfort wrapped around both of you, you eat. 

Slowly, you feel yourself becoming more and more human, as the warmth of your human furnace and the soup in your stomach leave you warm and full. Your brain settles, and so does your body, allowing you to melt even further into Bucky. You feel him shift above you slightly, moving to place his empty bowl on the side table next to him, but keeping one of his arms wrapped around you as he moves.

‘I’m sorry, James.’ You whisper, shifting so his arm moves to your waist instead of over your shoulders and looking up at him. ‘You’ve just got back from a mission, I should be the one looking after you, not the other way round.’ As your body and brain wound down, a guilt started to settle in, a guilt for knowing Bucky was worrying about you while he was away, a guilt that you couldn’t even look after yourself properly, guilt that former relationships had taught you you were supposed to feel. Had to feel. 

‘Never be sorry, not with me,’ he replies almost instantly, looking down at you with such intense compassion you can actually feel the parts of your heart that previous relationships scattered stitching back together. ‘If I was hurt,’ your arms circled tighter around Bucky at even the thought, a frown coming onto your face and mumbling out a noise of protest, and he let out a soft huff of laughter, ‘if I were, doll, I would communicate. We would work through it together. We are okay. There is nothing wrong with you, with us. This just happens sometimes, and I think it’s a privilege that you let me help you through it.’ Bucky’s hand moves to rest on the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. ‘You can’t help that your brain works a little differently from others. I love you, all of you, hyperfixations and all.’ 

‘I love you too,’ you reply, your hand brushing his messy hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear. You stand up, slowly, and Bucky looks at you slightly confused. You give his hand a squeeze, asking, ‘Stay here for a sec?’ Bucky nods back. You move into the bathroom, placing the stopper into the bath before letting the water slowly pour in, filling the tub slowly with warm water, which steams up against the mirror of the room. You shuffle around, still wrapped in your blanket as you light the candles you bought for Bucky to help him sleep, and pour in some essential oils and bath salts to help relax Bucky’s tense muscles. The scent of eucalyptus and lavender swirls around the room in the steam. You connect your phone to the speaker you kept in the bathroom, playing a smooth jazz playlist you’d helped Bucky curate months ago. 

As the bath continues to fill, you walk back over to Bucky, who smiles at you from the couch. Offering him a hand, you help him up, kissing his palm as he rises, and leading him to the bathroom. ‘You don’t gotta do this, doll,’ he says with a warm smile. ‘I want to,’ you promise him. You help him sit at the edge of the tub, and start by taking off his boots, still caked in mud and something else you don’t think about too hard. Next, his fitted black athletic top. Finally, you help him stand as you undo the button on his tac pants and pull them and his underwear down in one. You hold his hand as Bucky steps into the tub, letting out a quiet hiss as his body gets used to the temperature, before letting his eyes drift shut as his body relaxes. You turn to leave the room, but as you do, Bucky’s hand finds your wrist. He gives you that cheesy, shit-eating grin that he knows makes you crumble in a heartbeat. ‘Come join me, doll.’ 

Almost immediately, the fluffy blanket surrounding you falls to the floor as you strip out of your clothes. Bucky’s hand stays wrapped around your wrist, helping you into the bath until you're settled in front of his, your upper body leaning on his chest while your head is laid back, supported by his shoulder. You talk of everything and nothing. Of the manuscript you found. Of the facility Bucky had been sent to scope out. Of what you were gonna make for dinner tomorrow, and when you were finally gonna get that cat you both wanted. You sat wrapped in each other's arms, talking until the water cooled and you’d turned into prunes. 

Lazily, you both eventually got out of the bath, wrapping yourselves in fluffy towels you’d stuck in the dryer before getting into the bath so they were warm. You plodded, hand in hand, into your bedroom, pulling on soft pyjamas, the gentle harmonies of Bucky’s playlist filtering through the apartment as you both got into bed. Your bodies moved without the need for speech to communicate, you melted into each other, the same way you had since you’d first shared a bed. Bucky lay on his back, his metal arm slung over your waist as you cuddled up into him. You settle your head back on his chest, the steady thump of Bucky’s heart lulling you towards sleep. Before you drift off, you look up at the man you love so deeply, filled with so much emotion, with the feeling of being loved, being cared for, being seen, and simply whisper, ‘I love you, James, so, so very much.’ 

Your eyes are already drifting shut when you hear Bucky whisper above you, ‘I love you too, more than the universe can ever understand.’ 

AN: Hello friends! This was inspired by the wonderful @orellazalonia's recent one-shot Origami Apocolypse , so make sure to go give that a read too! As ever, likes and reblogs fuel my writing obsession and bring me more than a little joy, so do feel free to share!

[figtreesandmoonlight]

My Funny Valentine

Bucky Barnes x Reader one-shot 

Genre: fluff fluff the fluffiest fluff, minor angst

Content Warnings: mentions of eating disorders (reader formerly)

Summary: You’ve been sneaking around. Well, not sneaking, exactly. But something’s off, and Bucky Barnes can never leave a damn thing alone when it comes to his girl. After coming in late one night, Bucky confronts you about his fears, only to find out you’ve been hiding away at … a dance class?

Bucky Barnes was concerned. 

No. Scratch that. He was worried. 

There was a part of Bucky that was always worried about you. You who ran into danger like it was a game. You who took hits meant for the rest of the team. Who religiously made pancakes for everyone the morning after a mission, claiming it was a ‘soul reboost’. Who loved him, openly, wildly and with no hesitation. Who never kept things from him. He was always worried that one day you’d wake up and realise you deserved better, someone who slept through the night without nightmares. That you’d get hurt on a mission and he wouldn’t be able to get to you. That he’d lose you. But it was early in your relationship that you’d first got out of Bucky the worries that were causing a storm in his mind, and since then you two always talked about his fears. You knew his signs, he knew yours. You made a pact in those early days never to keep anything from each other.

Except you were. For the first time in your relationship, you were keeping something from Bucky, and it terrified him. That’s how he found himself sat up in bed, holding you while your head rested on his chest, your soft breaths tickling his neck and creating a gentle rise and fall of the duvet. He held you like you were the most precious thing on earth. To him, you were. 

But a frown rested on Bucky’s brow. As his hand stroked gentle circles on your arm he thought back to earlier in the night. He’d come home from a grocery run (he insisted on still doing them, paper bags and all, even though FRIDAY could order whatever you needed before you realised you needed it) to find that you weren’t in your shared rooms. Bucky frowned slightly as he placed the paper bags onto the counter, checking the time on his watch. 10:07pm. Odd. You were usually home chilling on the couch by 10, watching some sci-fi show Bucky would pretend to hate but secretly love.

It was only when FRIDAY told him you weren’t in the tower that he got concerned. Not worried. Not yet. But concerned. He started mindlessly putting groceries away, trying to remember if you’d said you were going to be out tonight. You hadn’t thought. And there was nothing in the shared calendar you’d taught Bucky how to use. He paused with a tin of tomatoes in his hand.

Bucky: Hey doll, just checking in - you out tonight?

He put his phone face up on the counter so he’d see if you replied and carried on putting the groceries away. He definitely didn't tap his phone to check if you’d read his message every five seconds. Definitely not. No. He put away the tomatoes, the bagels, the special roast of coffee he knew you loved. 

30 minutes later, you still hadn’t answered him. The groceries were away. The dishes from last night's dinner had been put away. Bucky didn’t really know what to do. You were an adult. Hell, you were an avenger. He knew you could look after yourself. But he wanted to be able to look out for you. Maybe you were on the subway. Maybe your phone had died while you were out. Maybe some psycho had followed you into an alleyway and- 

‘No,’ Bucky sighed aloud, silently chastising himself and running a hand over his tired face, shaking his head a little, as though he could shake the spiralling thoughts out. It just wasn’t like you. You were the first to respond on the group chat, you called him at least five times a day just to remind him you love him. Bucky was just about to Google ‘how long to wait after texting to call your girlfriend’ when he heard a rush of air as the elevator doors of the tower opened, revealing you. 

You were too distracted to see the way the tension immediately melted out of Bucky’s body, his shoulders dropping, the crease on his forehead disappearing, leaving behind only a dull ache. Bucky let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. You looked up from your phone at the sound, eyes immediately softening when you saw Bucky in front of you, an automatic smile pulling your mouth up. 

‘Hey doll,’ he said, voice slightly gruff with leftover hints of the tension that was just filling him. He walked over to you, engulfing you in a bear hug you weren’t quite expecting, the scent of bergamont, sandalwood and cardamom surrounding you, as you let out a little huff of laughter alongside a gentle oomph. ‘Hey baby,’ you reply gently, your hand coming to rest on Bucky’s cheek, stubble tickling your fingers as he lifted you into a careful kiss full of love. Bucky mumbled out a ‘missed you’ into your hair.

When he put you back down again and took a step away, you could feel Bucky’s eyes on your form. That was when his concern gained a sense of questioning. You were sweating. Not sweating as in it’s a bit hot in here. Your clothes were sticking to your body, sweat rolling down your forehead, and your face was flushed bright red. 

‘You good?’ he asked, his piercing blue eyes colouring with a little worry. ‘Of course I am Buck,’ you replied with a smile, turning away from him and towards the sink, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. ‘It’s just,’ Bucky continued, ‘I didn’t know where you were and Fri said you weren’t in the tower and you didn’t reply to my text-‘

‘Oh babe, I’m sorry,’ you reply immediately, turning to face him with concern now coming over your face at the realisation you’d worried Bucky. ‘I was trying out a new gym downtown and there wasn’t any signal.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Bucky replied, a hand coming up to sheepishly rub the back of his neck, ‘you know me,’ he said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his side with a cheeky kiss, ‘just wanna make sure you’re alright.’ 

‘I am Buck,’ you replied, pecking his lips, ‘promise.’

So Bucky had no reason to worry. Except he did. Because you were always ranting about the one time the tower’s gym had been closed for renovations and you’d had to use a gym down the street. You loved the tower’s gym. Hell, you made everyone come to a reopening ceremony, baked a cake, made a speech and everything. And you’d not said anything about wanting to try out a new gym; the one in the tower had literally everything he could think of in it. It just wasn’t like you. And when Bucky had asked you about it later in the evening, you’d just shrugged off his comment with a dismissive ‘oh I just fancied a change,’ before making a comment about the show you guys were watching and swiftly changing the subject.

That was how Bucky found himself lying in bed, you wrapped in his arms like he could shield you from the rest of the world, his thoughts running wild. Had you been on a run and something happened? Had someone chased you? Surely not, you’d have come in more frazzled if that’d happened, or you would’ve told him. Were you sick and trying to hide it? Were you going on secret solo missions? Were you seeing someone else? Bucky bit his lip and frowned slightly deeper. No. You wouldn’t do that to him. He trusted you implicitly and put the thought from his mind. 

 You could be in relapse. 

Long before you knew Bucky, long before you had powers and joined the team, you’d fought a battle with an eating disorder. You were open about it with the team, always had been. Because you’d done the work. You’d gone to therapy. Sure, everyone had hard days. But you were better. Had been for years. The team only knew about it in the first place because of a hospital visit you’d all done to a kids' ward a while back, where one of the girls was struggling with her own battle. You’d come away upset, and confided in the team your past that night over a bottle of wine and a film. 

Could that really be it? You’d been using the towers gym as regularly as ever, and from the research Bucky had done when he’d first been told about your past, excessive exercise could be a symptom. Were you trying to hide it from the team? A rock settled in Bucky’s stomach at the thought, and his arms circled you slightly tighter. He hadn’t noticed any changes in your eating habits. You seemed to be doing okay. You’d both confided in each other in the past when you were struggling with mental health. You’d both helped the other through tough episodes. But what if? He just didn’t know what else it could be. But he wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. He’d keep an eye out. That was all, and if he was still worried, he’d talk to you about it. Because that’s what you guys did, you talked. Bucky settled down, forcing his eyes to shut as he fell into an uneasy night's sleep. 

Over the following days, Bucky did as he said he would. He kept an eye on things. Your eating habits hadn’t changed. You were happy. You weren’t pulling away. But after a week and two more nights of you being out late, coming home covered in sweat and with no explanation, the rock in Bucky’s stomach had turned into a mountain, and he decided that you two needed to talk. 

Bucky was sitting on the couch in front of the TV, the room bathed in soft light from the reading nook he’d built for you. He’d been pacing so much he thought he might actually wear a hole into the carpet when he made himself sit down. Now, though, he’d nearly destroyed one of the throw pillows you’d bought for the sofa, it had tassels, and he kept fiddling with them while he tried to figure out what on earth he was going to say. Did he come straight out with it? And how the hell were you going to respond? 

The sound of the elevator doors stopped him before he could work himself into even more of a state. Bucky stood on reflex as you walked out of the elevator, immediately walking over to you and wrapping you in a hug. ‘Hey,’ you whispered softly into Bucky’s chest, before looking up at him with amused eyes. The amusement quickly drained away when you saw the fear that was burning through your boyfriend. Fear settled in your stomach, ‘James,’ you asked, a gentle, soft look of concern colouring your own voice, ‘what’s wrong?’ 

Bucky held your face in both of his hands for a second, his sad blue eyes staring into yours as you saw tears threatening to spill over his waterline. He placed a gentle kiss to your lips, and, his hand gently circling your wrist, he led you over to the couch where you both sat down. You felt like time had stopped. Like there was no air left in the room. Whatever had upset Bucky, you were going to fix it. To make it right. For Bucky. You would do anything to never see him look so sad again. 

You were looking into Buckys eyes as he took a deep breath, breaking eye contact with you to stare at his hands, which were now engulfing your own. He was holding them like a lifeline. 

‘You told me that a long time ago, you struggled with an eating disorder.’ Bucky’s eyes found your own again, as you sat feeling like all of the air in your lungs had been knocked out of you. ‘I’m worried that-’ he broke off as his voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat, his voice toned down to a whisper, ‘I’m worried that you’re relapsing. And I don’t know if you realise it or not.’ You could practically hear the cracks in his heart as he spoke, his voice resembling that of a broken mans. 

Oh. 

Your brain stopped working. All you could see on his face was pain, and concern, and love. Underneath everything was a deep, deep love. You pulled your hands free of Bucky’s and for a second he looked heartbroken, before you lifted your hands to cup his face. ‘Where is this coming from babe?’ Bucky reached up to gather your right hand in his own, pulling it to his lips and placing a chaste kiss onto your palm. ‘You disappear for hours, and don’t respond to my texts. You come home dripping in sweat and said you’re trying a new gym, but you’re still racking up all of your usual training hours on top of that. I read,’ his voice broke again ‘I read that a symptom of some eating disorders is over-exercise, where you keep pushing your body to its limits, trying to burn calories and you won’t talk to me about it, and you're so perfect already, and I’m scared that you’re slipping into bad habits without realising it. I’m not mad, I promise, but I need you to be honest with me. I’m worried about you.’ You could see the fear radiating off of Bucky’s body, his hands shaking, and his breath coming short. 

‘Oh baby, oh my love,’ you all but whisper out. Your heart had about broken in two during Bucky’s panic-filled speech, ‘I’m okay. I promise you, I’m okay.’ You sat up, folding your knees under your body so you were kneeling across from Bucky on the couch. You took his face in your hands once again, staring into his eyes to help him focus on what you were saying, to help him believe it. ‘I’m not in relapse love. I was trying to surprise you.’ 

Slowly, the look on Bucky’s face melted from one of devastation to one of confusion. ‘I’ve been taking dance classes. Dance hall stuff, Jive, fox-trot, waltzing. There’s a 40s night coming up at the old dance hall. I was gonna take you as a surprise.’

Everything in Bucky’s body seemed to turn off. The cogs that were working overtime in his brain suddenly stopped. The tension in his muscles seeped out like a balloon with a hole in it. A single tear made its way down his cheek, which you softly swiped away with your thumb. ‘What?’ He whispered in disbelief.

‘I’m so, so sorry I worried you, baby, but I’m okay.’

‘You’re not…’

‘I’m not,’ you promised him. You saw a colour of embarrassment briefly work it’s way onto Bucky’s face as he pulled away from you, moving to rest his head in his hands over his knees. He stayed there, in silence, for a moment, just breathing as your words sank in. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear, as shock settled over you. He felt bad, he felt bad for worrying, for caring. You leaned over, placing your hand under his chin, lifting his head to look at you once more. 

‘Don’t be. Promise me. Never be sorry for caring about me. I love you James. I’m the best I’ve been in years, getting stronger every day, because of you. Because of your love.’ You didn’t realise the tears that were now falling from your own eyes. ‘I love you so much. I love you for worrying. I love that you care enough to look for signs. That you care enough to research what those signs are. I love you, and everything that comes with you, including your worry. Your worry means you care, baby. I promise you, if I ever feel myself slipping I will tell you straight away, but with you by my side baby, I won’t. I have never been safer, more seen, in my life, than when I am with you.’

‘I just love you so much…’ Bucky trailed off. Instead of replying with words, you stood from the sofa to kneel up in front of him, pulling him into a kiss, one hand hugging his body close to yours, you other resting just below his cheekbone. Your tears mingled in a second kiss of their own. Your kiss broke apart, but you stayed close, your foreheads resting together as you both grounded yourselves in the moment of tenderness.

After a few moments in quiet heaven, you pull away from Bucky, standing up. Bucky looks up as the warmth of Ella Fitzgerald’s voice wraps around your apartment. ‘I figure since the secrets out,’ you say, a smile forming on your face, your hand offered to Bucky, ‘it’s only fair I show what I’ve learnt.’ 

Bucky looks up at you like he worships you, like you’re a goddess, offering him the keys to heaven. ’How did I ever deserve someone so perfect?’ He asks, taking your hand in his and rising from the sofa, placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles as he rises. Bucky’s right hand snakes around your waist to settle on your lower back as his metal hand meets your lifted right hand, pulling you close into hold as slowly your bodies start to move through the space of your apartment. 

You’re still learning, but your body seems to immediately fall into sync with Bucky’s. Your bodies move as though they were made to dance together. Bucky adds a turn to your movements, his face lighting up as you follow his lead into a wrap. With your body now in front of his, you feel him place a gentle kiss into the crook of your neck before he unwraps you, pulling your body close back to his as you flow through the space like water down a stream. Your breaths sync as your head lowers to rest on Bucky’s chest. The sounds of New York dim away, the soft light around you softens even more as you and Bucky move into nothing more than a way, wrapped in each others arms and completely and utterly in love. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Stuck in the God Damn Elevator

Bucky Barnes X Reader One Shot. Because who doesn’t love this troupe?

hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes did not get on. He was arrogant, reclusive and all in all a bit of a dick. He wouldn’t even acknowledge you when your paths crossed in the kitchen. He thought you were loud, obnoxious and ignorant of the realities of real life, you were ‘too much’. You thought he was too inclined to search for darkness in the world. You could think of nothing worse than getting stuck in a lift together. But oh, how the universe likes to laugh at your misfortune.

TW: panic attack (Bucky), swearing. 4.5K words <3

You let out a little sigh as you got into the elevator. Most of the team had been called away on a mission a few days ago, and while you understood why you weren’t with them, you were bored. Your arm was still healing after your last mision, and with your skill set, you wouldn’t be particularly useful in an underground bunker: there wasn’t enough sunlight down there for you to draw on its power. The lab team were still tinkering with a new artificial sun-source for your suit after the last one had been ‘put out of commission’ (read accidentally crushed by Alexi in the middle of your last mission, leaving you powerless and almost getting your arm ripped off by a mutant Hydra had created). 

So, between having no power source and being on a medical ban until your arm healed, you hadn’t gone on the mission. This left you wandering aimlessly around the compound for the last week, occasionally catching a glimpse of Bucky’s shadow, who also hadn’t gone on the mission. You weren’t sure why, but it wasn’t like you two had a glowing relationship where you could ask. Instead, he would just skulk around the compound, and you did everything you could to avoid him.

It didn’t particularly bother you anyway. You’d tried to be nice to Bucky when you first joined the team, but his cutting comments and withering glares made it clear he didn’t want to be friends. Well, you’d thought, his loss. You’d given up trying to be everything for everyone long ago. If you and Bucky didn’t get on, that was that. Sure, it upset you. You could see he was hurting a lot of the time, and with your shared history, you’d initially thought you could be a source of comfort for each other. Apparently not. 

The team were due home tomorrow, and you were going crazy on your own, so you decided to kill two birds with one stone; you’d welcome the team home by baking them cupcakes. Inevitably, Alexi would eat nearly all of them, which John would then complain about while demolishing the other hald himself, Ava would steal one away to her room needing some space after a mission (she always did) and Yelena and you would crack open a bottle of wine, eating cake and debriefing as friends before any kind of actual debrief. Bucky could eat a cupcake or not, you didn’t care. 

You’d overheard him once, complaining to John over beers on the balcony that you were ‘too much’. The comment might have hurt you once, but you’d decided long ago to stop letting other people’s opinions of you dictate how you spent your time. You were extroverted, kind, highly dangerous when angry, loyal to a fault, and happy. You were you, and you weren’t going to change that for anyone, especially not a grumpy old man incapable of saying a single kind word to you. And you were too damn good at your job, too damn professional to let your personal dislike of each other cloud your efficiency on missions. He could complain all he wanted, but you got results. You got them while choosing to always look for the light. You got them showing mercy to those you fought. You got them, in between baking and singing along to musical theatre. You got them while always watching your team’s six. 

You got them in spite of Bucky’s personal dislike of you.

You decided it would only be appropriate to listen to Waitress while you baked, trying to keep yourself from going stir-crazy. The elevator doors closed as gentle harmonies flowed from your headphones, and you squared your shoulders, even in the privacy of the elevator, pulling a smile onto your face. You missed Lena. You missed your friends. But they would be home soon. You always looked for the light. There was too much darkness in your past for you to do anything else. 

The doors slowly peeled open, and you began to step out of the elevator before lifting your head only a moment before stepping directly into Bucky, too late now to change your course. You crash into each other. Letting out a small gasp, your bodies collide, only lightly, but enough to startle both of you out of your separate reveries. Bucky’s hands were on your arms in an instant, simultaneously balancing you and pushing you away from him in one motion. 

‘Watch where you're going,’ his gruff voice huffed out as he stepped past you, letting you go and pressing the button for the roof. ‘I- sorry’ you mumbled out, pulling your headphones, which had been knocked around your neck when you collided, back over your ears, kicking yourself slightly for the moment, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. You certainly weren’t going to be making small talk with Barnes in the elevator. Hell, you turned the volume of your music up. 

The doors to the elevator slowly shut once again, and it continued its movement downward to the communal kitchen. Your eyes were burning a hole in the doors of the elevator, silently commanding it to hurry the fuck up and get you away from Barnes. You guessed he was doing the same, probably with his signature moody scowl written across his forehead. But sadly, you couldn’t actually talk to elevators. And clearly, you’d done something to piss off the universe. To majorly piss it off. So much so, that almost as soon as the elevator started moving, it came to a thundering stop, dropping you both about half a foot alongside a loud clang, and plunging you both into total darkness on unsteady feet.

Both you and Bucky let out sounds of surprise in the split second you dropped, Bucky immediately pulling you behind him in the corner of the elevator, his whole body blocking yours as both of your eyes darted around the room, assessing whatever threat was coming for you. ‘What the fuck,’ you called out, directed to no one in particular as your heart hammered inside your chest so hard you could hear it in your ears and feel it shaking your whole body. At some point, your hand had grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm. You were clutching it so tightly that your knuckles had turned white. 

Both of you remained frozen, tension coiled so tightly in both of you that it threatened to snap any moment. After what could have been seconds or minutes, the fault button on the panel of the elevator flickered red, and the backup light above your heads flickered on, the harsh brightness of it stinging both of your eyes thanks to your enhanced senses. You’d only just adjusted to the darkness of the small space. You let out a small sigh of relief. You weren’t under attack. The elevator had just broken. Annoying? Yes. But not an attack. 

It was only as you watched the tension slowly dissipate out of Bucky’s shoulders that you realised what he’d done. For all of 10 seconds, you’d both thought you were under attack. And Bucky? His first response had been to put himself between you and whatever danger was coming. He hadn’t even thought about it. 

And something about it made you want to laugh. Not that his being ready for a fight was anything other than typical, but that he’d gone to protect you? You, who he scowled at on a daily basis? You. Who he avoided at all costs? He’d moved to try to protect you. 

As Bucky took a step away from you towards the other end of the elevator, his hand came up to the back of his neck, rubbing softly (a classic tell that he was stressed), you stifled the laugh that wanted to work itself out of your body. Bucky didn’t turn to look at you. Didn’t snap. Didn’t curse. Instead, he gripped onto the bar that ran around the elevator, hunched over and facing the wall, a stiffness returning to his body doublefold. ‘You okay, Barnes?’ You asked, voice soft from the other end of the elevator. 

He didn’t reply. He looked like a cat with its hackles raised, ready to bolt or strike at any sudden movement. He was mumbling something under his breath. Something in Russian. ‘No, you’re not there. You’re safe. You’re at the tower.’ He was looping it over and over. Shit, you realised, Bucky thought this was Hydra. 

‘Hey, Barnes,’ you tried again, voice becoming even softer as you slowly held your hands up in front of you, taking a slow, clear step towards him, ‘we’re okay. We’re safe. The elevator’s fucked, but we’re safe. The team’ll be back soon, they’ll get us outta here.’ 

Again, no response, but a sound, tiny and whimpering, made it out of Bucky’s lips. As you took another step over you clocked the insane pace of his breathing, shallow, fast, and hard. The metal bar was groaning under his tight grip. 

He was having a panic attack. 

‘Bucky?’ You never called him Bucky, and the sound of it made his breath catch in his throat, leading to some desperate, spattering coughs as he gasped for air. You’d made your way to be next to him, stood at his side, hands still clearly in view. ‘I think you’re having a panic attack. I don’t know if you’ve had one before, but I promise it’s okay, you’re gonna be fine.’ You slowly lowered a hand onto his vibranium arm, and he flinched slightly at the contact, but didn’t pull away. You could see his face now, drawn tight, eyes pinched shut, cold sweat running down his forehead. Something in it broke your heart a little. 

‘You’re gonna be okay, but we gotta slow your breathing down, ok? Can you try and breathe with me, James?’ Another name you’d never used for him, but it seemed to get a response from him, the smallest nod of his head. ‘Ok, great. That’s great. I’m gonna put your hand on my chest, and I want you to try and match my breathing. Is that alright?’ Again, the smallest nod of his head.

You slowly lifted his vibranium hand off of the metal it was gripped onto, wincing slightly at the dents it left behind as he lifted it. Valentina wouldn’t be pleased, but she could quite honestly fuck off. You brought Bucky’s hand up to your chest. The coldness of it settled on you, grounding you in the moment as you tried to exaggerate your own breath as much as possible to help Bucky match it. All the while, gentle nothings came flowing out of your mouth, promising Bucky he was going to be okay. That ‘yes this sucks ass, but it will pass.’ 

Bucky’s eyes locked onto yours as his hand made contact with your chest. You’d never seen such an intense sorrow in his expression before. His icy blue eyes cracked your heart a little more. He looked fucking terrified. 

With his hand still on your chest, you placed your own over his metal one, your other hand reaching for his flesh one, as you told him, ‘let’s have a sit, yeah? Get us comfy while we wait.’ By this point, Bucky’s breathing had evened out enough for him to be able to nod his head in agreement, but he didn’t dare speak yet. He didn’t trust his voice. The tears collecting on his waterline told you it would be a while before he could. 

The pair of you lowered yourselves onto the floor slowly and stayed like that, Bucky’s hand on your chest, your own over his, for a while. You didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually, you Bucky’s breathing slow down, his shoulders stop jumping so much, and some of the frown on his forehead lessened. You felt Bucky’s hand twitch underneath your own, so you eased up the pressure of your hand on top of his, giving him the option to pull away if he wanted to. He shifted his weight beside you. Bucky drew his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, eyes shut, his head hanging back, resting on the metal wall of the elevator. He looked so small. Not shattered, but not whole either.

The pair of you sat like that for a while, in a silence that somehow didn’t feel awkward or tense. If anything, it felt like there was something sacred about it. It was Bucky who eventually broke it, as a hoarse ‘thank you,’ came out of his lips. You turned to look at him, his eyes now looking at your own, a mixed expression of gratitude and embarrassment on his face. You gave him the warmest smile you could, your posture now matching his own, ‘any time.’ 

A beat passed before Bucky, eyes now firmly fixed on the floor in front of him, asked, ‘How did you do that?’ 

You looked at him, confusion written on your face. ‘Do what?’ You replied. ‘Help me calm down? The only person who could do that was Steve.’ 

You couldn’t hide the surprise that briefly flashed across your face. You had no idea that Bucky had had panic attacks before. But if experience had taught you anything (and it had taught you a lot), the last thing Bucky needed was someone to gawk at him. So instead, it was your turn to look at the floor in front of you, suddenly seeming like the safest option. ‘I get them,’ you replied, before softly adding, ‘a lot. I just did what I wish I had someone to do it for me. What my sister used to do for me.’ 

It was Bucky’s turn to look shocked now as he turned to look at you. And he didn’t clear it from his face for a long time. You never talked about your sister. Never. Everyone on the team knew that. She’d died, that was all the team had been told. Your file had added that it was at the hands of Hydra. But you never spoke about her. After hits to old Hydra bases, you’d turn silent on the jet home and disappear for a few days. The team knew better now than to ask why. 

But here you were, talking about it with Bucky. About her with Bucky. 

You shrugged before he could say anything else. ‘How long do you reckon we’ll be trapped here anyway?’

‘Not too long. Team are on their way back early, I was heading to the roof to meet them.’

You nodded in response. That made sense. Looks like you won’t be greeting them with cupcakes this time around, though. ‘Well, looks like it’s just you and me then, Barnes,’ you flash him a cheeky grin, knees knocking into his own, ‘Your worst nightmare, huh?’ Bucky mumbled something under his breath in response. You assumed you wouldn’t want to know what he had to say. 

‘Shame too. I was about to make some damn good cupcakes. Would’ve even let you have some, if you asked nicely.’ You were teasing him. Trying to help him feel some sense of normality, trying to show him that nothing changed because you’d seen him have a panic attack. ‘Although, knowing you, you probably would’ve just taken one and sulked off back to your room.’

‘I don’t sulk.’

‘You definitely sulk, Barnes. This whole thing,’ you gestured to all of him, ‘it’s sulky.’ 

Bucky looked at you with shock, which quickly turned into something sour as he bit out, ‘Well, at least I dont pretend to be happy all the time when my life’s a fucking mess.’ 

You felt like someone had punched you in the gut. Knocked the wind right out of you. It was one thing to hear Bucky moaning about you to John over a beer. It was another thing entirely for him to say it to your face. You looked at Bucky with a look bordering hurt and confusion, saying a simple ‘fuck you,’ and shaking your head before picking up your headphones that had dropped from you while you were helping Bucky earlier and moving to the other end of the elevator. 

You sat with your back against the wall, knees pulled into your chest, head hung slightly inwards, headphones securely over your ears, playing your choral playlist, something which grounded you, helped you centre yourself, loudly enough that Bucky could hear it across the elevator. 

Bucky immediately winced and then froze in shock, regretting what he’d said, kicking himself over and over again. You’d just helped him, and the first thing he did was be an asshole to you. A true asshole too. A brick seemed to settle itself in his stomach and he felt sick. He ran a hand over his face in frustration, letting out what could almost be described as a growl of annoyance with himself as he tried to think of what to do, hitting his head against the wall behind him. You didn’t want to talk, he could see that clearly enough from the volume of the music pouring out of your headphones. He could text you? No, that was a stupid idea, and likely to piss you off more. 

God, he thought, why do I always do this? The silence that had earlier sat so comfortably in the room was now heavy, weighed down with anger, frustration and hurt. Contrary to what you thought, Bucky didn’t hate you. Part of him longed for you. So hot, so deeply, that he didn’t know what to do with it. It scared him. The idea that you could be friends, could be something more, terrified him. He terrified himself. He didn’t trust himself. So he could never trust himself with you. You were light and happiness, he could never taint you. So, as usual, he pushed you away, it was an automatic response at this point.

I gotta make this right. 

Bucky took a deep breath in, steeling himself to push himself off of the floor, legs still slightly wobbly from the stress and anxiety running through him. Slowly, he made his way to sit about a foot away from you. You could almost feel his eyes boring into you, begging you to look up, to talk to him. Enough that it almost made you feel bad. It was a chronic problem you had, being unable to be the reason someone was upset, even if it came about through them hurting you first.

A bone-deep tiredness had settled over you in the moments you’d had sat listening to music. You didn’t have it in you to fight. Not now. Not when you didn’t know how long you were going to be stuck with each other. You’d had enough fights in your life, you didn’t want another. With a little huff, you pulled your headphones off, the weighty silence of the elevator ringing in your ears louder than any music could. You didn’t have it in you to draw out the impending argument, allowing the weariness in your body to show through as you asked Bucky, ‘what?’ 

‘I-’ he stalled, ‘I’m sorry. That was unfair. That was cruel.’ 

You were almost as surprised as when the lift had broken. Not once, not once in your years of knowing each other had Bucky ever apologised to you, ever acknowledged that what he had said or done could have been hurtful. You didn’t know where to go from here. 

Bucky must have mistaken your stunned silence as you still being angry, because he carried on, ‘I just,’ he let out a small sigh himself, ‘I dont get how you do it. You’ve been through hell. A hell far too similar to my own. But you’re good. You’re a good person. You’re kind. You look for the light, and not just to fuel your powers. You’ve seen so much darkness. Too much. Yet here you are, making cupcakes for the team coming back from a mission days after your arm nearly got ripped off. You listen to fucking choral music. You tell jokes, you watch films. Hell, you just helped me through a panic attack because the stupid elevator broke down. Because I couldn’t keep my shit together.’ 

Bucky drew in a shaky breath. At some point, he’d turned to look away from you, stood up and started pacing. ‘Because,’ Bucky wavered here, debating if he could go on or not, ‘because you’ve been through so much, and you’re not a wreck. So much of our lives have been the same, and it makes me- it makes me wonder how you can be okay when I find everything so god damn hard.’ Bucky let his back connect with the wall behind him, feeling suddenly too vulnerable to support himself. ‘I can’t sleep. I work myself into the ground because I’m scared of stopping. Of being taken again. I push everyone away because I’m terrified that one day the programming will snap back into place. One concussion, one word, could bring it back, and I could hurt people. I could hurt you.’

You were stunned into silence, unable to quite believe what you were hearing.

‘I just don’t know how you do it. Why you do it. How you’re strong enough, and… and how I’m not.’

‘I do it,’ you whispered, a tear making its way down your face, ‘because if I don’t, the darkness will be too much. It’ll take me over. I let that happen once, Bucky. I let them win once. I won’t do it again.’ You wiped the stray tear away quickly, looking into Bucky’s eyes. He’d stopped pacing the second you spoke. ‘I’m still a fucking mess. I’m never not going to be. Look at me! I lock myself away when I’m having a panic attack, I go off the grid pretending to be on missions when I hit a depressive episode.’

‘But I was alone so long,’ you carry on, ‘and I found a family here. I found people who get what I’ve lived through, who I can talk to and find comfort in.’ 

Now, Bucky was stood still across from you in the elevator, staring at you with a look you’d never seen before. It might have been shock. But there was something else under it. Admiration? Pride? And something softer too, something you weren’t ready to name yet. 

‘And yeah,’ you continued, ‘our lives have been pretty shit. So maybe I work a little bit too hard at being happy, at putting on a brave face. But I’d rather be someone who brings something positive to a room, someone people can go to, someone people can rely on, someone who tries to smile, even when people can see it crumbling,’ you let out a humourless laugh, ‘than let it consume me. If I let it take over me, for the first time since I got out, I would stop. And I don’t want to know what happens when I stop.’

You paused, steeling yourself to carry on with a deep breath. ‘They- Hydra, they wouldn’t let me feel anything. Happiness is my defiance and my defence, Barnes. It’s my way of winning.’ 

Your eyes hadn’t left Bucky’s. Tears were streaming down your face now. Bucky looked stricken, almost like a broken man. Both of you sat staring at each other. For a while, there was no other sound than your deep breaths, which occasionally staggered and caught as your emotions slowly dimmed. It was Bucky’s low, hoarse voice that pulled you back into the room.

‘I’m sorry.’ You’d been looking at him already, but now, now you saw him. Bucky carried on talking. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been struggling since the void, more than I wanted to admit. And you’re a light. You’re like the human version of a sunrise. You make people laugh. Make them smile. You attract people to you. I wish I were the same. I push people away, because it’s all I’ve ever known, but I wish I knew how to hold them close. You have that. You can do that. And it hurts that I can’t do that too. So I’ve been cold. I’ve been cruel. And I’m sorry,’ he ran his hands over his face, a stray tear falling from his eyes, ‘I’m so sorry.’

Bucky had stopped looking at you at some point during his speech, his eyes falling to stare at his hands in shame. You took a deep breath and stood up, crossing the tiny space between you to sit next to Bucky. Bucky’s face turned, full of surprise and questioning, as you sat next to him. ‘You’ve been alone long enough, Barnes.’ You rest your head on his shoulder. He tensed ever so slightly when your head came to rest on him, but quickly relaxed. ‘If you don’t know how to keep people close, we’ll work it out together, yeah?’ 

You looked up to Bucky to see a small, tentative smile pull at the corners of his lips, to see his eyes soften, ever so slightly. ‘I’d like that.’ You smiled back up at him, disconnecting your headphones from your phone, letting the sound of The Bluebird spill out into the elevator. The two of you fell into an exhausted silence, but not one which was uncomfortable. It was a safe silence, one where each of you felt comfortable enough to let yourself feel the exhaustion that was claiming you. 

At some point, the weight of your head, of your body resting against Bucky’s grew stronger. Bucky looked down to see you dozing off to sleep. Ever so gently, he shifted your head on his shoulder so that it sat more comfortably against him as he shrugged off his jacket, pulling it over you while you slept. Bucky would stay awake, would sit guardian over you while you slept. You’d spent enough time performing happiness for other people. It was time for someone else to look after you. 

Bucky had no idea how long it had been when the elevator finally started to move. The normal lights flicked on, as the emergency ones shut off, and the elevator jolted to life. It wasn’t enough to wake you, though. Your head remained firmly set on Bucky’s shoulder, though his jacket had slipped slightly now. Bucky hesitated for a moment. Should he wake you? No, he decided, you looked too peaceful. Instead, he slowly snaked his arms around you, lifting you into his arms as he stood up. The doors eventually slid open, to reveal a slightly dishevelled team, Yelena holding a bleeding wound on her arm, John with a black eye, and Alexi holding Ava upright. 

The look Bucky gave the team very clearly threatened them into silence. He stepped out of the elevator softly, slowly, doing everything he could to not wake you while he walked down the corridor to one of the spare rooms on the floor for you to sleep in.

 The second he was gone, Ava turned to Yelena with a smirk: ‘so, looks like they finally sorted their shit out.’ Yelena only shrugged her shoulders with a smirk before a grimace took over as her arm stung in complaint. ‘What did I tell you. Broken elevator. Oldest trick in the book.’ John piped up almost immediately asking, ‘Sorry, am I missing something here.’ Alexi just let out a booming laugh, clapping John on the back, ‘You miss all the things, my friend.’ 

The four heroes trudged into the elevator, while down the corridor, Bucky placed you gently into a bed, pulling the duvet over your shoulders. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before whispering, ‘I’ll stick around, I promise. No more pretending to be okay. No more pulling away.’ Bucky slowly walked towards the door, and just as he was pulling it to, he could have sworn he heard you whisper ‘good,’ back to him. 

You two may not have been friends going into the elevator, but you came out something much deeper than that, even if that thing didn't have a name yet. 

Much love as ever, dear readers! Please do like and share, and if you have any requests don't hesitate!

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Hello there! Your pool fic was in my recommended feed, such a sweet story. I hope you enjoy your time here after your break and keep up the lovely work! Have a wonderful day!! ♡

Omg 🥹 this is so lovely !!! And I love your writing !!!! Have simply the best week 🩷

[figtreesandmoonlight]

𝐹𝒾𝑔𝓉𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝓃𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃

Currently writing Bucky fics mostly, but open to any marvel character requests

Key: ☾𖤓 - hurt/comfort | ✧ - angst | -`♡´- - fluff |

𝐵𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝓈

Bucky X Reader One Shots

Coffee Shops and Break-Ins: ☾𖤓, -`♡´-

Bucky finds a haven in your coffee shop, and you find a friend in Bucky. But what happens when that haven gets broken into and no one's there to help you?

Pool Day: ✧, -`♡´-

The brutal heatwave attacking New York finally breaks with some sunshine, and the team want a pool day. But your body doesn't feel like it 'fits you right', and a swimming costume is your worst nightmare. Cue boyfriend Bucky coming to remind you how beautiful you are.

Let it Burn: ☾𖤓, -`♡´-

Your boyfriend cheated on you. With your best friend. You withdraw from the team, and the wider world entirely. But Bucky Barnes wasn’t going to let his best girl suffer alone any longer. And he has a plan to help you get over your ex. All it takes is a couple of matches and a rooftop, right? 

We're Gonna Be Okay: ☾𖤓, -`♡´-

You and Bucky get injured on a mission. With a raging storm shaking the outside world, extraction isn’t going to happen. Instead, you and Bucky find yourselves holding out in a safe house, blood pouring out of each of you, alert and jumping at each noise, while you patch each other up. Will you find comfort with each other, or will your injuries become too bad before you can get out of there?

I'm Glad You Called: ☾𖤓, -`♡´-

Things quickly go south during a blind date, and it becomes clear that Jake has certain expectations for where the evening will go next. The world becomes blurry around you as you make it clear you won’t be sleeping with Jake, but when the ground shifts beneath your feet and Jake gets aggressive, you make a phone call. Cue one angry super soldier coming to the rescue, confessions of feelings, and lots of fluff. 

Stuck in the God Damn Elevator ✧, `♡´-

Because who doesn't love an elevator fic. You and Bucky Barnes did not get on. He was arrogant, reclusive and all in all a bit of a dick. He wouldn’t even acknowledge you when your paths crossed in the kitchen. He thought you were loud, obnoxious and ignorant of the realities of real life, you were ‘too much’. You thought he was too inclined to search for darkness in the world. You could think of nothing worse than getting stuck in a lift together. But oh, how the universe likes to laugh at your misfortune

My Funny Valentine -`♡´-, ✧

You’ve been sneaking around. Well, not sneaking, exactly. But something’s off, and Bucky Barnes can never leave a damn thing alone when it comes to his girl. After coming in late one night, Bucky confronts you about his fears, only to find out you’ve been hiding away at … a dance class?

Take A Break - -`♡´-

Bucky gets called away on a mission, finally giving you time to work on your PHD. But your brain loves to take things a little bit too intensely, and suddenly it's 48 hours later, Bucky is home, and you're still working without a break. Cue absolute mountains of fluff.

He'll Always Come Pt 1 ✧, ☾𖤓 || He'll always come Pt 2 ☾𖤓-`♡´-

You were taken. You don’t know by who, but they want to know about Bucky, and you’ll die before you tell them a thing about your boyfriend. You just need to bide your time, because he’ll come. He always comes.

One of Those Days - -`♡´-

You'd had one of those days. A truly, tremendously shitty day. And you can't hold it all in much longer. Thankfully, Bucky's waiting for you at home, ready to help you however you need.

Fucking Hazelnuts - ☾𖤓, -`♡´-

It was supposed to be the perfect birthday date—red dress, roses, soft music, and Bucky Barnes looking at you like you hung the stars. But when one bite of dessert turns into a deadly situation, the evening spirals into chaos. In the haze of fear and adrenaline, it’s Bucky who grounds you—steady hands, unwavering eyes, and whispered reassurances. As you cling to each other through the ER visit and quiet tears, you’re reminded that love isn’t just grand gestures—it’s knowing someone will always show up.

One Singular Sensation - -`♡´-

You’re an actor, and tonight is the night you make your Broadway debut. Except Bucky’s called away on a mission at the last minute, and as much as it breaks his heart, he has to miss your debut. Or does he? 

Why Didn't You Tell Me? - ☾𖤓, ✧

You get hurt on a mission, but being new to the team and having been trained in the red room, you don’t know that you’re allowed to show pain. So, you hide the injury. But Bucky notices, he always notices. And as you sleep on the jet, he tries to help you. 

The Small Thing & Part 2- ☾𖤓, ✧

You kept the small things to yourself. But when those small things were bruises and pain left on your body by your boyfriend, they were never going to stay with you forever. During a lab visit, Bucky finally realises why the reader pulled away from him, and swears to keep her safe forever.

Catch Me, I'm Falling

You tend to get hooked on things. It's part of your ADHD. Some things just stick in your brain. And at the minute, it's the self-defence training Bucky's got you doing after you got mugged. And you love it. But you love it so much that you start skipping meals, missing sleep, and deciding that redbull counts as a foodgroup to make time to train. So when everything in the gym becomes fuzzy and starts spinning, the only thing you want is your super-soldier boyfriend to make it better.

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Coffee Shops and Break Ins

Bucky Barnes X Reader One shot 

Summary: Bucky finds a haven in your coffee shop, and you find a friend in Bucky. But what happens when that haven gets broken into and no one's there to help you?

Story (not yet edited sorry team I'm sleepy):

Grind the beans. While the grinder’s going, get the milk into a steaming jug. Tap the grounds into a portafilter. Mug under to catch the espresso. Soft hiss of the espresso machine. Finish frothing the milk. Pour. 

You hummed along to the warmth of Ella Fitzgerald’s voice while you worked, the soft glow of the overhead lamps settling a warmth onto the hardwood floors beneath you, basking everything in the kind of light you only see at the end of a rainy day when the sun comes out. You look across the cafe, the wall in front of you lined with new shelves you’d installed earlier that week, all other bookshelves now overflowing with offerings for the little community library you’d set up that wasn’t so ‘little’ anymore. You were just glad that Ned, the owner of the coffee shop, was delighted by the project. The soft scent of cinnamon warmed the air as it mingled with the steam from coffee cups, floating in waves of defiance against the biting winter air outside. 

‘Cappuccino for Fran?’ You called out, finishing the drink off with your signature mix of cinnamon, chocolate and just the tiniest hint of salt sprinkles. As the older woman made her way up to the counter, the bell on the door rang, letting you know someone new had entered the cafe, though whether it was an attempt to hide from the rain or for coffee, you didn’t know. You helped the lady back to her table, insisting on bringing her coffee over for her, sneaking a biscuit onto the side of her saucer as you did so, before standing up straight and turning around to meet your next customer. 

Looking up at the blackboards above your workstation was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with short brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Drops of rain were falling from his figure as he pulled out a copy of Tender is the Night from where he’d presumably hidden it in his jacket. His eyes caught yours and you replied with a soft smile as you moved behind the counter, wiping your hands down on you black apron and unlocking the till again. 

‘Hi! What can I get started for you today?’ You asked, the same lines you repeated day after day coming easily to your mind. ‘I uh…’ the man on the other side of the counter to you trailed off, staring at the boards above you still, clearly overwhelmed with the amount of choice, his hand coming to rest sheepishly on the back of his neck. ‘There’s a lot to choose from,’ you laugh out, ‘it can be overwhelming I know.’ 

‘You can say that again,’ the brunette replied, eyes now coming to look at your own, which softened under his gaze. The sheepish expression on his face only seemed to grow, a hint of blush working it’s way onto his cheeks.

‘Are we thinking coffee or tea?’ You ask, deciding to help him narrow down his options. 

‘Definitely coffee’ the stranger replied, almost letting out a laugh, a little huff of amusement at your eagerness to help. 

‘Let me make you something special? On the house?’ You asked. You’d been meaning to try a new roast of coffee with a custom syrup you’d made, and this felt like the perfect opportunity. A willing guinea pig was all you needed, and this way, you could get some non-biased feedback. The confusion on the man’s face melted slightly at the sight of your hopeful eyes and giddy smile. ‘Sure thing, doll.’ The gruff man eventually responded. 

You smile beamed back at him as with a burst of energy, you replied, ‘Amazing! Go grab a seat and I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.’ Your eyes followed the figure of the man as he wandered aimlessly between tables, as though he wasn’t quite sure where it was appropriate to sit. You chuckled under your breath, before calling softly after him, ‘The armchair in the corner’s pretty cosy, if you wanna carry on reading.’ He turned back to you, his expression one mixed between surprise and embarrassment, but you simply smiled back and nodded in the direction of your favourite spot in the cafe, before turning to make the coffee. At some point your playlist must have changed over, as now you sang along under your breath to It Ain’t Me Babe, taking on Baez’s harmonies as your own as you frothed milk and poured syrups. The man now settled in the arm chair across the room had pulled of his leather jacket, hanging it off the back of the opposite chair and sat upright into the chair. You chuckled softly to yourself as you mixed the coffee and milk; he looked like a soldier sat at attention in the chair, when everyone who ever sat in it before seemed to melt into the chair. ‘Just give it time,’ you thought to yourself, ‘he’ll crumble soon enough’. 

You finished making his coffee, slipping the mug and saucer onto a tray alongside a dark chocolate and raspberry muffin you slipped out of the display case onto a small plate with a fork. He looked like someone who needed cake. Although, you did think that of most people. Cake just made people happy, and who were you to deny people happiness. Picking up the tray you made your way over to the corner armchair. ‘Here we are,’ you said, placing the mug and plate down with practiced ease and smiling at the man, ‘you’ll have to let me know what you think.’ 

‘Thank you,’ the man responds softly, looking up at your, ‘I don’t think I ordered any cake though.’ You let out a little laugh, smiling back at him and replying, ‘I know. Think of it as payment for being my coffee guinea pig. This is a new recipe I’m trying out and you’re my first test subject.’ Suddenly, the smile on the man’s face wavered slightly, before returning, but failing to hide some hidden sadness in his blue eyes. ‘Thanks,’ he spoke, his voice a little strained now. Deciding not to press, you merely replied with a smile of your own, telling him ‘anytime,’ before adding, ‘but you gotta let me know what you think!’

You moved away from the man, deciding not to press. It was always your first reaction to try to help; you hated to see people sad, and made it your mission in life to show kindness towards anyone you saw suffering. But you didn’t know this man, so you stuck to sweet treats, smiles, and hoping that the warmth of the atmosphere in the shop would help ease whatever was going on behind his eyes. The rest of your shift passed relatively simply, with regulars and new customers coming in alike. You made drinks, served cakes, chatted to customers, sang to your playlist and the world ticked on. Between flashes of coffee, the voice of Sinatra and the smiles you gave so freely to customers, your eyes constantly found themselves flicking back to the mysterious man hiding in the corner of the cafe. You were right. Slowly, his stiff posture melted into the comfort of the old leather armchair. The muffin disappeared bite by bite. The coffee cup was drained to the dregs. Pages of his novel turned and his eyes remained fixed to them. Hours passed, yet every time you looked over to the figure, your smile widened slightly. 

Eventually, the sun had set behind the towering skyscrapers of New York, streetlights turned on and cars rushed past, headlights on full beam, offering horizontal sparks of light through the front windows of the cafe. As you were closing down the coffee machine, you heard the sound of a coffee cup coming to rest on the counter behind you. ‘Thank you, dear,’ came the old woman’s voice, as you turned in time to see Fran on her way out of the shop. ‘You sure you’re gonna be okay getting home?’ You asked. ‘You know I am my love,’ she replied. Every time she left, you double-checked. She was yet to take you up on your offer of walking her home, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to keep asking. She was fiercely independent, and you admired her for it massively, hoping that when you were her age, you would be the same way. You waved her out the door, promising to see her tomorrow, as you turned back to the coffee machine to finish closing it off. 

As you were finishing up, you heard the low, gentle sound of someone clearing their throat, clearly trying to get your attention. You turned around to see the man from earlier standing at the counter, the last customer left in the cafe. He’d brought up his used dishes, and you couldn’t help but smile; chivalry, as it turns out, wasn’t dead. You smiled at him, asking, ‘So, what’d you think?’ The man placed the dishes down, letting out a huff of laughter, ‘definitely sweeter than I’m used to, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.’ 

‘So, what I’m hearing is the next time you come in, I’ll make you something with a little less sugar.’ 

‘That sounds good,’ he replied. He lingered for a moment, clearly unsure of what to say next. It was becoming clear to you that, whoever he was, the man you’d encountered today felt out of place, unsure of himself. You decided, as a result, not to overwhelm him with your bubbles of joy. He seemed sad, but you knew that if there was anywhere he’d be able to find peace, it would be in here. So you simply smiled back at him when he gave you a simple nod and turned to walk out the door. You carried on your close as you head the bell on the door go off, wondering if you’d see the mystery man in the cafe again. It was only when you turned to add his dishes to the final load of the dishwasher that you noticed the folded-up napkin, with black ink scribbled over it and a $5 note under it. 

‘Didn’t want you to get in trouble. Thanks for the coffee. - James’

The black scrawl was messy, bleeding into the napkin, but it brought a smile to your face nonetheless. So, the mystery man with the old novel and sad eyes was called James. You could work with that. 

The next few days passed much like any other. Your regulars came for their daily caffeinated uplifts, books from your community library were swapped and traded, coffee cups were filled and emptied, and stories were swapped. You kept your eyes out amongst the crowds of customers that came in for James, but he didn’t appear. Maybe you’d scared him off. Maybe he hadn’t liked your coffee. You didn’t think too much of it, carrying on as ever, trying to spread little bits of light into your customers' days. After all, you’d only seen him once, and barely said four words to him, it shouldn’t matter that much that you hadn’t seen him again. 

Then, four days after his first visit, the bell to the cafe announced his entrance with its cheerful chime. You didn’t turn around immediately, didn't realise it was him who the bell had announced. It became clear pretty quickly, though, when you turned around and your eyes caught his own icy blue ones. Your stomach dropped almost immediately when you took in the rest of him. There was a cut on his lip, a black eye, and he was walking with a limp. Your heart had sped up to double speed, your brow pinched into a frown. But you didn’t question it, you didn’t ask. It wasn’t your place to. Instead, you gave him an extra warm smile and a piece of lemon drizzle cake with his coffee. And you didn’t let him pay, insisting that he was now your professional taste tester. James mumbled out a brief ‘thanks’, and you couldn’t help but notice the hoarseness in his voice when he spoke, the slight wince he made as the smile he gave you pulled at the corner of his cut lip. It made something in you ache, a kind of deep-set numb pain that you couldn’t shake for the rest of your shift. 

Customers came and went, but your eyes kept coming back to James, huddled in the same armchair you’d pointed out to him on his first visit. He didn’t have his novel with him this time. Instead, he sat and stared as he slowly drank his coffee and nibbled on the cake. When it became clear he wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon, you decided to try, just try, to do something to make James’s day better. You made your way over to the bookshelves and pulled out one of your favourites, The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien. You quickly pulled a napkin and pen out of your apron, and scribbled onto it: because it always makes me smile and you look like you could use one :) 

Before you could talk yourself out of dropping the book off, you wandered over to James, huddled in the corner of the shop, lemon cake now completely demolished, and dropped the book off on the edge of his table, no words passed, but the napkin placed on top of the book’s cover. You gave him a parting smile as you left the book behind you and carried on working. You felt a small buzz of joy when, ten minutes or so later, you looked back over to see James had not only opened the book, but also seemingly let his body dissolve into the chair beneath him, and a small smile spread across his lips. 

It was near the end of your shift that you realised at some point James had left, snuck out like a spy, and you hadn’t seen him do it. What you found instead was his mug and plate returned to the counter with another napkin of scrawled handwriting. You let out a huff of laughter as you read the new note.

‘I read it, when it first came out in 1937. Still love it. Thanks for the smile -J.B.B’

J.B.B 

James Buchanan Barnes.

Your laughter slowed into stillness. The penny dropped. You stared down at the soft scrawl on the feather-light paper beneath you. Oh. James was that James. Bucky Barnes. Thunderbolt and hero. And someone who, from the looks of it, could really do with a break. It struck you that you never expected a supersoldier to be anything but certain, self-assured, confident. Bucky didn’t seem to be any of those things. He looked tired, like he needed a break from the world. The way his shoulders were almost constantly tensed, the way his jaw was always working, his eyes always scanning the room. He looked like he needed a friend. And you decided that friend would be you. You folded the napkin away, tucking it into your apron as you continued your shift, saying goodbye to Fran, closing down, and locking the door behind you as you left. 

Over the next few weeks, Bucky’s visits to your cafe became more and more regular; he was there almost every day. The notes between you turned slowly from one or two sentences passed on paper, to you spending your lunch break sat in ‘Bucky’s corner’ with him, sometimes talking, sometimes in silence. You let Bucky lead the budding friendship, bubbling over with joy on the occasions you made him laugh or when a smile worked its way up to his eyes. You chatted about anything and everything, how your degree was going, what you wanted to do with your life, what you wanted to be as a kid. Almost always, Bucky steered the conversation to centre on you and not himself, but you didn’t mind. You realised the more you opened up to Bucky, the more of himself he slowly showed you. You spoke of your brother and he mentioned Rebecca, you told him you wanted to be a mad scientist as a kid, he talked of the Stark Expos he went to ‘back then’. 

He didn’t talk about the 40’s a lot, not directly, anyway. He’d drop memories of his past in passing, and you tried not to comment or pry. You’d made that mistake early on in one of your first conversations. You’d been talking about your best friend from school, how you’d once got a detention for giving her bully a black eye. Bucky had said you sounded like a ‘punk’, to which you laughed in response. Then you’d asked about Steve. You’d read somewhere that he’d been victim to bullies a couple of times too, but as soon as the question about ‘your own punk’ came out of your mouth, Bucky had stood up, grabbing his jacket and mumbling something along the lines of ‘I gotta go.’

You hadn’t taken it to heart. Sure, you’d been a little upset, a fair bit confused. You’d only started talking to Bucky properly a week earlier, and you were just trying to balance the conversation. But clearly, something had upset him, so you promised yourself you wouldn’t bring it up again. Instead, you’d headed out back and baked. You made a cherry pie, a hearty slice of which you gave to Bucky the following day when he came in, acting as if nothing had happened, pulling a book off the bookshelf and settling himself into his armchair. He looked you in the eye as you dropped off his usual coffee and cake combination, and he smiled, softly. A smile that acknowledged that he’d walked out, and that he’d come back, and you’d chosen to return to him. You didn’t ice him out; you didn't seek to punish him for his sudden disappearance, as he feared. You just smiled, brought over cake, and joined him on your lunch break. 

‘So, does a fossil like you know how to work a phone?’ You asked one day, as you swallowed a chunk of chocolate brownie. The look that Bucky shot you across the table landed somewhere between amusement and horror - his eyebrows lifted as his eyes bore into yours in a kind of ‘really?’ expression, and his mouth hung open, rendered truly speechless. You took the opportunity to throw a chunk of brownie at his face. Bucky shifted just in time to catch it in his mouth, and as he did he seemed to snap back into real life. ‘Oh yeah, between payphones and yellow pages tech’s really come along doll,’ you smiled at his nickname. The first time he’d called you doll it was clearly a slip, his cheeks grew red and he ducked his head down. When you told him you didn’t mind, he looked surprised, saying most women he met nowadays didn’t appreciate the nickname. You told him you didn’t mind it, and it had stuck since. You pulled your phone out of your pocket before he had the chance to say anything in response to your brownie assault, opening a new contact and handing him your phone. 

Bucky just stared at you blankly. ‘For your number, bionic boy,’ you replied. The look of blankness now just shifted to confusion. You laughed and shook your head slightly. ‘How else am I gonna tell you when I have new coffee recipes perfected if I don’t have your number?’ 

‘I don’t know, how about through the fact that I’m in here every day?’ Bucky quips, hands still hovering over your phone, not quite committed to giving you access to him 24/7 yet. 

You let out a fake gasp, clutching imaginary pearls hanging from your neck. ‘I cannot decide when inspiration will hit me, Mr Barnes, and I am horrified you only want to use me for free coffee when it suits you.’

Bucky lets out a groan of amusement, head tilting to the side slightly as you see his restraint waver, but his hand still doesn’t move. You feel a little pang of anxiety settle in your stomach. Maybe you’d completely misread your chats. It’s not like you were asking him on a date, merely that you wanted to be able to chat with him when you weren’t on shift. You enjoyed his company. But what if he didn’t enjoy yours? What if you’d just been bothering him this whole time? ‘You don’t have to of course, it’s just that I thought we were friends, you know, and friends, they like-’ amidst the ramble you’d set off on, you tried to reach back across the table and snatch your phone from the supersoldier. 

But Bucky had clearly clocked onto your unease and pulled the phone out of your reach, quickly entering a phone number into the new contact, naming it JBB. ‘I was just teasing you doll, you can call me any time, day or night.’ A smile settled onto your face in response to his reply, relief flooding your system. You couldn’t help but always overthink everything. But Bucky put you at ease. ‘Plus as you say,’ he continues, ‘you never know when inspiration will strike. I gotta be ready to do my duty and try your concoctions.’  You laughed, telling him it was the least you expected from the coffee conneseaur himself. Banter passed back and forth for a while, until your lunch break came to a close, and you left Bucky with his book, settled in his corner and headed back to work. 

Days passed amidst your and Bucky’s casual exchanges and conversations. Bucky started leaving books behind for you to read, with little napkins telling you why he picked it, and you left him little reviews after each read. You baked for him, slowly trying to figure out his favourites, and texted him at random hours of the day, usually on your walk home from closing the shop. The themes of the texts bounced around between musings of the day, photos of your cat, and anything else in between. You didn’t always get a text back, but Bucky always opened the messages, and you knew he read them, because he’d drop in his thoughts in conversations the following days. Once or twice, after silence from Bucky, you’d stopped texting him, thinking you were annoying him, that obviously an avenger had better things to do than listen to a random barista ramble on. But then he’d text you a photo of Alpine, his cat, or ask what was on your mind, and you’d fall back to your messages with him. So, you settled into your friendship with Bucky Barnes quite easily. 

Bucky had left a few hours ago. So had Fran. You’d closed up the front of the cafe, switching the lights off, mopping, and closing up the cash register. Any other day, you would have headed home by this point, but you were working on a new apple crumble blondie for Bucky to try, so you’d stayed in the back of the cafe, in the tiny kitchen hidden away from the public. You were in the middle of stewing apples when you heard it. The first thing that assailed your ears was the sound of shattering. The front window of the cafe, scattered into a thousand tiny shards across the floor, followed by a swift thud. A brick, the thing that had shattered the glass, hit the floor. 

The next thing you heard were voices, as you turned off the stove and moved to the back of the kitchenette, grabbing the knife you’d used to chop the apples and taking it with you as you moved. The sound of boots crunching on broken glass filled the silent cafe ‘Hurry the fuck up man, we don’t got all day.’ You pulled your phone out, hands trembling as you tried to steady your breathing and find somewhere to hide. After a second attempt at entering your password, your phone opened up, and your thumb immediately hit the contacts button. The phone rang only once before he picked up. 

‘Doll? That strudle done?’ Came Bucky’s voice on the other end of the line.

‘Buck, someone’s in the cafe’ your voice came out barely above a whisper as you spoke, breath shaking like your hands in fear. 

‘Shit. Okay, have they seen you? Do they know you’re there, doll?’ Your head shook, before you realised Bucky couldn’t see you. 

‘No’ you managed to force out, before a trembling hand came up to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds of your erratic breathing as a second person entered the cafe. ‘You go check the back’ a second man’s voice ordered. 

‘OK. Ok doll, just stay on the line with me. Have you got something you can defend yourself with?’ A deep urgency now threaded its way through Bucky’s tone as you told him ‘yes.’ You couldn’t stop the little squeak that forced its way out of your mouth when the door to the hallway from the cafe crashed open. That meant he was in the hallway close to you. One door across and he’d find you. Oh my god. You were going to die. This is how you die. ‘They’re gonna find me, Buck’ you cried out, hands shaking uncontrollably. You scampered silently and desperately across the room, tears now falling down your face as you gripped the chef’s knife so tight your knuckles turned white. ‘Doll! Just do whatever they want, okay? Don’t play the hero. I’m on my way. Try and stay on the line.’ You wanted to reply to Bucky, but the door across the room to you burst open, wood splinters flying everywhere from one sharp kick to the handle. You screamed in response, falling over and barely noticing the little bits of wood now embedded in your skin. It was all you could do to pull your mind together enough to hide the phone in your pocket while you held the knife in front of you. 

‘Well, well, well. Hello there, gorgeous.’ Suddenly, the figure of a man, face covered with a balaklava, was towering over you. He had a gun. He had a gun and he was going to shoot you and you were going to die. You yelped out in pain as the man stomped on your hand, crushing bone and easily removing the knife from your grip. His hand grabbed onto your arm like a vice, mercilessly hauling you up off of the floor, leaving bruises in his wake as he pulled your body in front of his, his gun coming to rest on your temple as your whimpered. ‘Please, please don’t shoot me. I - I haven’t even finished school yet, I’

‘Shut up,’ the man above you shouted, slapping you across the face so hard you saw stars and cried out yet again. ‘You be a good girl and do what I ask, and we’ll let you leave here alive? How about that?’ You nodded up at the man, pure fear running through your system. You were half led, half shoved through to the front of the cafe, behind the counter where the cash register was kept. ‘Look what I found, Charlie,’ the man holding you sneered. The feel of his hot breath against your neck made you want to be sick. ‘Hey baby,’ the other man said, coming uncomfortably close to your body, and his fingers tightly gripped your chin, forcing you to look up into his eyes. ‘You’re gonna help us get all the money in this joint.’ You nodded at him through watery eyes, unable to make any sound pass your lips. 

You were unceremoniously shoved towards the cash register, hitting your hip hard against the surface of the counter en route, letting out a small cry, more from shock than pain. Both men let out barks of laughter as more tears fell down your face, and you felt the cold barrel of the gun return to its place on the side of your head. ‘Hurry up bitch,’ a gruff voice above you ordered, as his spare hand found its way around your neck, pinning you once again to his body, ‘we haven’t got all day’. Your shaking hands tried to press your code into the cash register, but slipped on one of the buttons, making the register display an ‘access denied’ sign. You registered the sharp sting across your face before you realised what had happened. ‘Stop wasting time.’ He’d hit you. And you’d bit your lip from the force: you could feel blood, hot and metallic, rising from the small cut. You didn’t dare speak in response, merely turning again to the register, hands still shaking. You forced yourself to take a deep breath as you punched in your code a second time.

‘Get your hands off of her.’ 

Your head whipped round, your terrified, clouded, and red eyes instantly locking onto Bucky’s own, lit with a burning fire of rage behind them. The hand gripping your neck loosened briefly, and as it did, you couldn’t help but let out a strangled sob of both relief and grief in one. Bucky was here. Your knees buckled, and the only reason you didn’t fall to the floor was that the man holding you came back to himself, pulling you back into him, as he turned you both to face Bucky. From the new angle, you could see the second robber, gun now pointed directly at Bucky, who seemingly didn’t care. His eyes were fixed on you. Only you. Scanning your form, as though he were taking an itinerary, checking if you were hurt. His eyes zeroed in on your busted lip, the only reaction coming in the form of his furrowed brow pinching even tighter together, his eyes turning darker. 

‘I won’t ask again.’ Bucky’s eyes finally broke away from yours, turning instead to bare into the soul of the man holding you. ‘Let. Her. Go.’ Bucky’s voice had turned to steel, sharp as the knife he held in one hand, as unbreakable as his vibranium arm which was clenched into a fist, glinting slightly in the light.  

You let out a scream as the knife in Bucky’s hand flew, quick as a bullet, brushing past you and finding its mark in the shoulder of the man behind you, the impact forcing the hand around your throat to disappear as you finally took in a shuddering gulp of air. Now you weren’t being held up by anything, or anyone, your body gave way to the fear you were feeling, dropping to the ground as your heart beat so fast it felt like it would crack your ribs. The crack of a gunshot burst across the room as the second man fired at Bucky. The bullet never found its target, though. Bucky raised his vibranium arm, quickly deflecting the shot as a litany of ‘Shit!’ came from the man with the gun. 

Bucky stalked forward, a hunter headed for his pray. His vibranium hand enclosed the mouth of the gun, forcing it upwards as he yanked it out the hand of the man, simultaneously landing a swift left hook across the man’s cheek. Bucky gave him no time to recover, instead grabbing the man’s head and bringing it down to meet his knee, creating a sickening crack as some bone in the man’s face broke and he slumped unconscious to the ground. At some point you’d backed up to the counter, scrambling across the floor to get as far away from what was happening in front of you as possible. 

Where you had fallen to the floor was a space now occupied by a small puddle of blood coming from the man who had been holding you. Who had been holding a gun to your head. Bucky quickly turned to the second man, shoulders heaving as a minor layer of sweat cast a sheen on his brow. You’d never seen him like this before. His jaw was set, a vein in his neck was pulsing, and he looked like he was filled with so much anger. If you hadn’t known Bucky better, you would have been scared. He was a storm. He reached the man in two long strides, kneeling down beside him. What Bucky did next surprised you. He leant down to the figure on the floor, grabbing his top with his metal fist and pulling him close. He whispered something into his ear. You had no idea what. You didn’t want to know. You looked away as Bucky stood again, only hearing a grotesque crack as Bucky’s boot connected with the man’s head.

Bucky descended on you almost immediately, his expression changing in an instant from one of fury to one of terror. He reached you in two steps, crouching down immediately in front of you. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t thank him. Couldn’t fall into him and tell him how scared you were and how grateful you were he came. 

’Hey! Hey, are you okay? I need you to look at me doll.’ The sound of one of the men groaning in pain behind Bucky briefly drew your attention, before gentle hands came to your face, forcing you to look at Bucky. His blue eyes bore into your soul directly ‘Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?’ You shook your head, a subtle action, but clear enough for Bucky to recognise it and breathe out a sigh of relief. He had been Atlas holding up the world out of fear for your safety. Now he could breathe again. He pulled your trembling form into a hug, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, you burying your face in his chest, finally feeling safe. At some point you’d stopped crying. But now, enveloped in the arms of the man who had just saved you, everything crumbled. You sobbed into him, your tears staining his henley whilst he whispered to you over and over again that you were safe now. 

After what felt like an eternity, you heard the sound of sirens pull up outside the cafe, the sound attacking your ears now there was no glass in the window. As you heard the crunch of boots on shattered glass, you pulled away from Bucky with a shuddering breath, red colouring your cheeks with embarrassment.  ‘Sorry,’ you mumble out, your watery eyes meeting his own. Bucky’s hand found its place back on your cheek as though it belonged there, his thumb tracing the line of blood running down your chin that had now mostly dried. ‘Don’t apologise. You never gotta apologise to me.’ You took another deep breath, grimacing a little as the small smile you gave Bucky pulled at your torn lip. ‘I’m gonna go talk to the cops quickly, then how about we get out of here?’ You nod to Bucky, and he gets up, walking over to the officer and explaining, in hushed tones just quiet enough that you couldn’t hear, what had happened. All you registered was the lack of warmth now at your side from Bucky’s absence. That quickly resolved itself, though, when Bucky returned, all but scooping you up into his arms, one arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into his side, steadying you as you stumbled slightly. In standing, you now saw the shards of broken glass that had embedded themselves in your knee. You winced slightly as you walked, but despite Bucky noticing, he didn’t say anything, only shifted his body slightly so he was taking more of your weight. 

‘Let’s get you home, yeah?’ he asked, soft eyes looking at you like you were some injured deer he had rescued off of the streets. You hummed in agreement as you told him your address. Mercifully, you didn’t live too far away from the shop. You didn’t register much of the walk home. You could feel the vibrations of Bucky’s rumbling speech from where your head rested on his chest, but you quickly tuned out most of what he was saying after realising he was mostly speaking simply to provide you with some kind of normalcy for your walk home. When the pair of you finally arrived back at your apartment block, you realised that your hands were still shaking when you tried to put your key into the lock. Come to think of it, you couldn’t really feel your body, and only a tingling in your hands. You felt like you were floating. Like you weren’t really in your body. 

Bucky’s flesh hand came to rest on top of yours. You looked up at him, and he was looking down at you with kind eyes as he helped you open the door to your home. Soft lighting bathed your apartment from the lamp you’d accidentally left on during the day. Bucky guided you to the coach that nestled against the postered wall of your apartment, helping you sit down onto the soft surface. 

He crouched down in front of you, and before your brain could process what was happening to even ask him what he was doing, the laces on your shoes had been undone, the boots slipped off your feet, and your feet replaced on the floor, burying themselves into the fluffy rug now underneath them. You simply sat staring at the wall in front of you until Bucky reappeared in your vision, somehow holding your favourite mug filled with some kind of steaming liquid. He manoeuvred it into your hands only letting go once he was sure you weren’t going to drop it. The couch next to you dipped and you heard Bucky let out a soft sigh, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at anything other than the wall. 

Slowly, you felt the warmth from the mug creep into your fingers, the tingling finally subsiding as you eventually became aware of the rest of your body. Blinking once, twice, you suddenly seemed to become aware of yourself again. You felt yourself return to your body as you turned your head, once again to find Bucky’s bright blue eyes looking down at you, concern slowly melting away as you said a small ‘hi.’ 

‘Hi to you too,’ he said in soft tones, ‘good to see you’re back with us.’ 

‘That was, that was awful.’ You heard Bucky take a small, sharp breath in at your words as a look of guilt briefly flashed over his face. ‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that. If I thought I coulda got you out of there before the fight I would have, but they had guns and-’

‘No,’ you shook your head, horror briefly filling you as you recognised the guilt that Bucky was blaming himself for how he rescued you. For taking those guys out in front of you. ‘No Buck. I mean what they did. What happened. I don’t, I would never mean you. You saved me. I called for you and you saved me. I…’ you trailed off, deciding instead that a hug would have to suffice for communicating how grateful you were to him. You snaked your arms around him, shifting slightly so you were now sitting cross-legged, facing him as you held onto him. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Anytime. Always.’ Bucky’s own arms came to encircle you once again, his chin resting on your head. The pair of you sat like that for a while, lost in each other’s embrace as the tension of the day slowly bled out of your body. Eventually, Bucky pulled away from you, saying, ‘I think you went into shock, hun, which makes a lotta sense. But I gotta take a look at those knees okay? We don’t wanna leave the glass in there any longer.’ 

You nodded in response, giving Bucky the directions to find the first aid kit you kept in your flat. You’d never had to use it before. But now you were glad it was there. Bucky returned in moments, settling on his knees in front of you as he pulled out gauze, saline, tweezers and a few plasters from the kit. ‘I’m gonna start by getting any glass that's stuck in there out okay? It might sting a bit, so if you need to take a break, just let me know.’ 

‘It’s okay, Bucky, I trust you,’ you replied, adding with a little laugh, ‘we can view this as paying me back for my expert coffee-making skills. I get you to patch me up.’ Bucky let out a little huff of laughter as he started working on your right knee, holding the back of it with one hand to steady you, while his other hand worked. You let out a little hiss of pain, which caused Bucky to pause briefly, his eyes looking up at you, questioning. ‘It’s okay, I’m okay,’ you respond before he even has the chance to check in. So he gets back to work, adding, ‘you should try that hot chocolate. It won’t be as good as yours, but the sugar should help. Plus the secret ingredient.’ 

‘Ooo, a secret ingredient. You’re turning into me,’ you laugh, picking up the mug and taking a sip before your eyes widen. ‘Oh my god, did you put some Baileys in this?’ You ask, surprised and slightly incredulous. Bucky looked up at you, cheeky grin on his face and explained with a laugh, ‘They taught us that trick in the army. Admittedly, it’s probably not medically advised now, but it always helped soldiers in shock back then.’ You wiggled your eyebrows back at Bucky, taking another sip as you two settled into silence while Bucky worked. You’d nearly finished your boozy hot chocolate when a yawn worked its way out of your body. ‘All done,’ Bucky announced at the same time. ‘You gonna kiss it better?’ You asked. Bucky chuckled, doing as you asked, before coming to his feet. ‘I’m sorry to ask doll, but did you get hurt anywhere else? I promise I’ll let you sleep soon, but I need to know you’re okay.’ Something warm in your chest bloomed as he asked. ’Just some bruises, I promise.’ 

‘Okay then,’ he replied, ‘let's get you to bed,’ before sweeping your body up in one fell swoop into his arms as you let out a little shriek. You suddenly realised just how tired you were as you gave Bucky the directions to your room and he settled you on the bed. After helping you slip into a hoodie he’d found in your closet, Bucky pulled the duvet over you and switched the light off. From the doorway he said, ‘you’ve got my number if you need anything. And I mean anything. Don’t hesitate, okay? I’m a dial away.’ 

You spoke before your exhausted brain could talk you out of it. ‘Will you stay?’ 

Bucky looked at you from the doorway, surprise colouring his features. ‘It’s just,’ you carried on, ‘I feel safe around you, and I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep otherwise.’

‘Of course I’ll stay. Do you want me to take the couch?’ You shook your head, simply lifting up the other side of the duvet for him to get under. He crossed the room quickly, chuckling under his breath as he slipped off his shoes and crawled into bed next to you. ‘Is this okay?’ He asked. His only response was a sleepy ‘mhm’ from you, as you squished up to him, your head resting on his chest as he brought an arm over you. You’d been through hell that day. It was only fair you got a little bit of calm heaven after it. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

so i'm looking for another fic...

i saved this pin in my marvel board like 8 months ago and found the fix in the coments but it just fucking disappeared and i can't find it now 😭