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yelena-bellova · 4 years ago

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Safe Haven: tftaws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Eleven (final chapter)

chapter ten - Chapter Eleven: Safe Haven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Bucky enjoy their time off in Brooklyn and make decisions about their future.

Warnings: FLUFF, very little angst for once, talk of torture, reference to suicide, open ended plot twist that I'm not sorry for...all the fluff, seriously...

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: Here we are...part of the journey is the end, and we've arrived. Even though there's another a/n at the bottom (with an important announcement so don't tap out too soon) I want to iterate just how thankful I am for the response I got on this series. I had the most amazing time writing it and loved getting to meet and connect with so many of you through it. ENJOY!!

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It had taken all the strength Bucky had in his soul to knock three times on Yori’s door. He didn’t know what reserve he had had to tap into to actually make his long-hidden confession but once the words had fallen from his lips, he felt both freed and all the more burdened. Watching his friend’s eyes become overtaken by heartbreak, the desperate, confused utterance of ‘why…?’ By the end, Yori wouldn’t even look at Bucky. Bucky didn’t blame him, he was surprised that the man wasn’t yelling him out of his apartment. Instead, he calmly told Bucky to leave, surely holding back the majority of his emotions until he was by himself. The door shut on their friendship and Bucky was by himself on the other side of the door once again, drawing the shaky breath he’d held while he was inside Yori’s place. Out of every person he’d gone to see, every heart he’d had to crush, this one had hurt the most. In the dauntingly long hallway, his eyes sought out the gift the universe had given him, so undeservingly.

His guiding light.

Bathed in the blue light that flooded through the dirty windows of the aged building, Y/n stared down at her feet as she paced. For as open as they’d become with one another, Bucky found himself unable to ask her to accompany him to his last opportunity to make amends. The two of them had become so skilled at reading each other that with one look in his saddened eyes, Y/n had squeezed her phone into the pocket of her jeans and stood by the door waiting for him to ready himself. Bucky was starting to make peace with his past, but he still didn’t know what he had done in his wretched life to have such an angel in his life.

“Hey,” she greeted soothingly, turning to face Bucky as he approached her, “How’d it go?” Bucky wasn’t ready to speak yet, he wasn’t even sure how he could describe what had just transpired. He simply sighed and allowed Y/n to wrap him in her arms in the embrace that was quickly becoming his favorite place to be.

——

As I woke with a groan, stretching my arms over my head, I was immediately aware that one side of the bed was cold. I blindly reached a hand over and felt around for Bucky’s missing body, sitting up when my search was unsuccessful. I blearily scanned the bedroom, our suits laying in a pile that had been kicked to the corner of the desolately furnished room. The few articles of clothing I had gone to the nearest department store and purchased for my impromptu stay in New York still lay folded on top of Bucky’s dresser. It didn’t dawn on me until that moment that I was beginning to spread across Bucky’s apartment without even trying.

It had been four days since the Flag Smasher’s final stand and while the world may have been spinning, mine had never been more steady. Bucky and I hadn’t left his apartment for more than running necessary errands. Other than that we’d spent the time enjoying our slice of domestic heaven learning about one another. I had discovered that Bucky was a good cook but only when it came to breakfast food. He had found out that I needed to sleep with the windows opened slightly for background noise. I had learned that his Spotify consisted strictly of music from the ’40’s and nothing else, contrary to what he’d told Sam about diving into Marvin Gaye’s discography. He’d learned that I got cold easily which led to both me stealing his hoodies and being on the receiving end of many bear hugs. We could tell what the other would do in combat or how they’d handle a concerning matter, but it was finding out the little things about James Buchanan Barnes that made me fall a little bit harder for him with each revelation.

The unlocking and opening of the door followed by quiet footsteps alerted me to his presence. I heard a few muffled noises before the floorboards outside the bedroom creaked, the door opening directly after. Bucky was careful and nearly silent as he came into the room until he saw that my eyes were open. We shared a lazy smile as he approached the bed.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked.

I shook my head in reply, he came to kneel at my side of the bed and pulled the hand he’d hidden behind his back out revealing a bouquet of daisies. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cuter,” I chuckled, reaching out to grab the bouquet, “I don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers.”

“That’s a crime,” Bucky said as he stood up, shedding his leather jacket as he walked around the bed, “In my time, you always brought a girl flowers on the first date. It was just what you did.”

“I guess we can consider my little extended stay a first date,” I dipped my nose down to smell the flowers, “Although I’m pretty sure in your time you wouldn’t allow a girl into your bed so soon.” Bucky snickered to himself, “A gentleman would never let a lady sleep on the floor. And selfishly,” he tugged his second layer, a grey long sleeved shirt off over his head, and looked down on me lovingly, “I sleep better with you here.”

It was true. He’d told me how he’d only used the bed once since he’d moved in, having slept on the floor instead. I was familiar with the phenomenon, Sam had gone through the same thing when he’d returned from the service. I’d told him that if he had a nightmare and needed to move out to his living room, I’d join him with no hesitations. Shockingly, it hadn’t happened yet and we’d slept in a peaceful tangle of limbs each night that I’d been with him.

Kicking off his boots, he slipped under the duvet and sat up against the headboard, looking over at me and patting his jean clad thigh. I set the flowers down and crawled over to him, sinking down onto his lap and sliding my hands around his neck.

“I like this,” he complimented me with a smirk, tugging at the material of his henley that I was wearing, “Looks better on you than it ever would on me.” “Clearly you’ve never seen you,” I scoffed, I’d also learned that the man had no idea just how attractive he was, “What were you off doing?” “Grocery store,” Bucky answered, gesturing to the sidelined bouquet, “Florist. Dr. Raynor’s office…” “Oh, I didn’t know you had a session this morning.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hands firmly secured around my waist and his thumbs rubbing at my hips. “I didn’t,” he answered, “I, uh, I crossed off all the names in my book. Thought I’d drop by and let her know.” I gave a breathy laugh, “All of them?” He nodded, “All of them.” Surprised and proud, I placed my hands on his cheeks and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I never doubted you for a second” I said softly, our lips almost touching, “I’m proud of you.”

Bucky gave a small smile, not yet ready to take as much pride as I could in his recovery. I could tell that he was lighter, while his personality was silent and stoic there wasn’t as much sadness lurking beneath it. To those who knew him, the difference in his behavior was visible. The days that I’d been in New York were the happiest I’d seen Bucky since I’d known him.

“So…” I sighed, my hands sliding down to his shoulders, “No more therapy sessions, no more battles to be fought…What do we do now?”

The dreaded question that we’d been avoiding since we’d isolated ourselves from the outside world. There was no doubt as to whether or not I wanted to make it work between Bucky and I, but we hadn’t even discussed what “it” was. What should have unfolded over the course of a couple months had happened as a crash course over two weeks. I didn’t regret it, I just needed to know where Bucky’s head was at regarding our future. “Look,” Bucky averted his gaze downwards, “I’m not…I haven’t done this in a long time and I can’t promise that I’m gonna be good at it. I can’t even promise that I’ll know what I’m doing some of the time. But,” he shyly raised his eyes to meet mine, “I want this. I want you.”

His earnestness was so genuine, I thought my heart might burst from the emotion in his ocean blue eyes. “Bucky, I don’t want perfect,” I said, “And I’m pretty sure that a 106 year old with a robotic arm and a girl who can fly using blue energy from inside her wouldn’t even know what to do with perfect,” I earned a single laugh out of him, “Whatever we have right now, that’s what I want. I want to fight with you by my side and make a difference in the world, then I want to come home with you and teach you to cook something other than pancakes.”

He furrowed his brow, “What do you got against my pancakes?”

“My point is,” I giggled, my hands drifting back up to each side of his neck, “I want you exactly as you are. I haven’t done this in a long time either, I thought that after my dad died I was too broken to ever let myself be happy like this and you know that I’m coming in with more baggage than before. You’re not the only one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. But there’s nobody else I’d rather figure this out with than you.”

The long stare he gave me was reminiscent of the first moment we’d been alone together, standing before the 200 foot drop in Munich. It was the first moment I’d appreciated his beauty, maybe it was the first seed planted in what was now a full-blown relationship in the making. This time, instead of sassing me with those hardened, slightly amused eyes, he surged forward and kissed me, cradling the back of my head in his Vibranium palm. I returned the kiss with just as much fervor, gripping the tight blue t-shirt tightly in my fists. Unlike the kisses we’d shared at 1AM in the kitchen of my house, this one carried a different weight. It was a promise of a future. Movie nights introducing Bucky to the classics that he’d missed. Lazy mornings in bed turned passionate as our bodies surrendered to one another. Protecting each other on whatever battlefields we’d inevitably end up on. Frustrating fights over something we’d inevitably admit was stupid to argue over. Whispering soothing affirmations to help Bucky come down from a violent nightmare. I could taste it all, the good and the bad, in that one kiss and I wanted every bit of it.

“Two weeks…” I said after we’d parted, shaking my head in amazement and laughing, “That’s all it took.” “Crazier things have happened,” Bucky reassured me with a smile, running his hands up and down my back, “My folks always said they knew in a week and they were together for almost forty years.” I bushed my lips against his softly, basking in the euphoria of knowing that the two of us belonged wholly to one another. To think that I’d been willing to throw all of it away mere days ago, I was ready to deprive myself and Bucky of the love we’d craved all our lives. I thanked God that my resolve to stay away had weakened long enough to let Bucky in because now, wrapped in his strong arms with his lips begging for a deeper kiss, I knew that I had something truly spectacular in my hands.

“Well, since this is official,” Bucky said, a little breathless, “There’s something you should have.” He took his hands off of my body and reached behind his neck, pulling off one of his dog tags. Understanding what he was doing and the significance of it, I moved my head to allow him to place the necklace over it, the cold metal of the ball chain settling against my neck. The tag fell between my breasts, I picked it up and read Bucky’s name, his service number, the name of his sister, their address and his birth place. He’d given me, a part of his future, a piece of his history.

“Bucky…” I whispered, not trusting my voice enough to come out steady.

“A lot of soldiers gave one of them to their girls before they shipped out,” he recalled, watching me examine the piece of metal, “At least I know if I ever do ship out anywhere, you’ll be with me.” I bit my lip and smiled, looking up at him with misty eyes. When the first tear fell down my cheek, Bucky was quick to wipe it away and did so with a smile of his own. After all the pain we’d both suffered through in life, we were finally allowed tenderness. Our hearts were scarred, our bodies worn, but no amount of trauma could lay a hand on the way we felt about one another. There’d be many more fights, some with forces bigger than the ones we’d spent the last two weeks taking a stand against. But at the end of the day, I had Bucky, my safe haven to come back to.

“It’s getting late,” I observed after a few minutes of sweet silence, the morning hours were slipping away from us, “Are you hungry? I can make us something.” “Yeah, but,” Bucky’s hands found my arms and he rubbed his palms against them, “Let’s stay here just a little while longer…”

A grin spread across my face, one that I was finding only Bucky could bring out in me. “Okay,” I replied, settling my face in the crook of his neck and resting against his chest, the only place I wanted to be.

——

A FEW DAYS LATER

“You ready, Barnes?” “I’m ready.” “This is the most dangerous mission we’re ever going to face.” “I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle it.” “Then why are you sweating?” “I’m not…sweating.” “Well, at least I know you’ll never lie to me. You suck at it,” I smirked just before smoothing out the shoulders of his jacket, “Follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

Bucky blew out a breath, his cheeks loosing their puff as he exhaled, “Here goes nothing…” I gave three sharp knocks on the door before entering, seeing the familiar face waiting in a chair by the window. “Hey, Mama…” My mother smiled deeply at the sight of her daughter, alive before her. “Baby,” she whispered as she slowly rose to embrace me, “Oh, you’re here.” “I’m here,” I smiled, trying to fight the tears threatening to fill my eyes. My mother had been my first call after the battle in New York, realizing that my face was flashing across every news channel in the country alongside Sam and Bucky. This was the first time I’d seen her since before I’d left Louisiana with Sam.

“And you brought someone?” she asked over my shoulder, pulling away to wipe her cheeks.

“I did,” I turned around and looped my arm through Bucky’s, who was looking vaguely nauseous, “Mom, this is James.”

Bucky stuck out his gloved hand towards my mother, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Y/l/n.”

“Wonderful to meet you too, James,” she responded, shaking his hand and looking over to me, “I’ve been waiting a long time for Y/n to bring somebody home.” I forced a chuckle, “Thanks, Mom…” “Well, I’m honored that I’m the one she chose,” Bucky beamed, his bright eyes seeking mine out.

“Well, sit down,” my mom gestured to the two free chairs in the room, “I want to hear all about how you two met.”

Bucky and I exchanged a nervous look as we pulled up our seats to join her by the window. How were you supposed to explain that you’d fallen for a 106 year old who just happened to have once been the world’s deadliest assassin? “Um…James is one of Sam’s friends from the military. He came with us to Munich and things just sort of,” I slipped my hand into one of Bucky’s that sat in his lap, “Happened from there.” “We didn’t like each other much at first, but,” Bucky chimed in, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, “She definitely snuck up on me.”

“Oh my,” she looked at me amusedly, “How’s Sam taking this? Has he threatened you yet, Bucky?” “Yeah, I, uh, got a text from him the other day, and it read something like ‘I’ve got access to government weapons, don’t make me use them.’”

I covered my mouth and snorted as my mother got a good laugh herself, “You didn’t tell me that.” Bucky shook his head, a small smile on his lips, Sam and him had been getting along swimmingly since his last visit to Louisiana. But no friendship could eclipse Sam’s overprotective nature when it came to his family, it was only a matter of time until Bucky was on the receiving end of its ugly side.

“Truth is,” Bucky turned his gaze to my mother while keeping a soft grip on my hand, I could feel his nerves radiating through his touch, “I’m crazy about your daughter, ma’am, I think she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

Mom sighed, an ear-to-ear grin painted across her face. It was the same one I’d seen when my sister had first brought her now husband home to meet us. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that, James,” she replied, “I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.” “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I questioned, “It’s been so long since the whole family was together.” “I wish, but I’m a little too tired to make the trip there,” Mom answered, settling into her seat a little more, “You don’t need an old lady there slowing you down.” “That’s ridiculous,” I gently pushed back, “But since Sam and I are back home for a while, we’ll make sure to bring everybody up one of the weekends.” “I’d like that,” she smiled. A phone buzzing interrupted the conversation, Bucky let go of my hand to reach into his jacket pocket. “It’s Sam, probably wants an ETA,” he announced, rising from his seat and looking between both me and my mother, “Sorry.”

Both of us shooed him out of the room to take the call, turning back to one another once he was gone with shining smiles. “Honey…” “I know…” I tried to hold back a giddy laugh threatening to erupt.

“He seems wonderful…” I shook my head, semi in disbelief that things had turned out the way they had. “You don’t even know the half of it, he’s just…I’m crazy about him.” “That much is obvious,” Mom gestured to my face, “You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door. I’ve never seen you this happy. Just one thing…” I furrowed my brows as her smile turned to a knowing smirk, “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know who he is?” I sighed, leaning forward in my seat and propping my elbows on my knees. “We weren't trying to hide it, he just doesn’t like to advertise it. Once people know, they usually can’t look past what he was. But, Mom, we’ve been glued at the hip for the last two weeks and I can promise you, what you’re seeing is what you’re getting. I wouldn’t be with him if I thought there was any chance he could hurt me. He saved my life and so many others last week...” “Sweetie, you don’t have to try and sell me on him,” Mom said soothingly, reaching out to touch my knee, “I trust your judgement and I also know what happened to him, it was tragic. The fact that he has a second chance at his life makes me happy, especially since it’s with you. Watching the two of you, how at ease he is with you…And those eyes,” she stopped to chuckle, “The way he looks at you is something special, it’s something magical. The two of you fit.”

Eventually I would tell her the whole story of how Bucky and I came to be, but it was better saved for another day. If she only knew how challenging it had been to get to something so simple and how Bucky and I valued each other all the more for it. “He fought for me, Mama,” I said with tears brimming, letting out a laugh, “Literally and metaphorically. And I just couldn’t let him go, he’s everything I’ve wanted but what I thought I could never have.” Mom placed a hand on my cheek, “You deserve him, my love. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve happiness.” And for the first time, I believed her. I believed that through my suffering, I had played a small part in helping Bucky through his. We deserved something more than what had happened to us and we had found it in one another.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Mom said, her face flashing with a different emotion than joy for a brief second. “I’m not sure about that…” I mumbled, dodging her eyes in favor of staring down at my hands, a different reaction than I’d ever had when talking about my father.

“Sweetie,” she coaxed me, tapping at my hands until I looked back up at her, “Do you…do you know something?” My heartbeat started to quicken as I struggled to contain the information I was withholding from my mother. It was taking everything I had not to tell her that her husband had been a part of one of the cruelest organizations the world had ever seen. The pain must have reflected in my expression. “Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip and closing her eyes, “You know…” “Mom?”

She sighed, sitting back in her chair and supporting her head in her hand. “I didn’t know anything about that part of your father’s life when I married him, he didn’t like to talk about his time in the ‘service’ and I never pushed it…It wasn’t until the night that he died, before he left the house, that he sat me down and confessed it all.” “He…” I moved to the edge of my seat, “He told you?” “Mmhmm,” she nodded, a distant look in her eyes like she was transported back in time to that very moment, “I didn’t know how to process any of it, how could I? This man who I’d shared my life with and he’d made his living off of inflicting pain on innocent people. Hours later, he was gone and any chance to delve deeper into it was gone too. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with everything, but I made it. You’re free to draw your own conclusions, Y/n, I’m not telling you how to feel. All I’ll say is this,” Mom drew a breath before continuing, “Your father’s guilt over what he did, to Bucky specifically, overwhelmed him. He told me how HYDRA manipulated him, a young and ambitious man, into coming to work for them, lying and telling him they were creating a better world with their work. He thought he was fighting for what was right…I’m not making excuses for him, believe me, I’m simply telling you what he told me. Do you remember when he’d wake up from a nightmare?” I nodded grimly, the shrieks of my father’s always strained vocal cords still haunted me decades later. “Do you remember what he used to cry when he woke up?” Mom asked.

I silently shook my head in reply, when I’d be awoken by my fathers blood curdling screams as a child, I’d always bury my head under my pillow in an effort to block it out, shedding tears at knowing I couldn’t help him. “Soldat…”

My head perked up, the word was familiar to me after hearing Zemo call Bucky the same thing when we were undercover in Madripoor. “Of course by the time that your James was free, your father had been dead for over a decade but,” Mom paused, looking out the window as memories hit her, “Your father’s guilt over what he did ate away at him every day. As far as you went, he told me that the reason he wanted to keep your powers hidden was because he was afraid HYDRA would come for you. It’s the reason I moved us to Delacroix after he died, I didn’t want to take the chance of somebody finding you. Dad didn’t want them to make you a weapon the same way they made one of James. But honey,” she took my hand, “He believed you could do great things, truly. One of the last things he said to me was that our family was the one good thing he’d done in life.”

Everything that I’d thought and everything I’d never thought had been revealed to me. My father’s crimes could never be erased, but some part of me felt satisfied knowing that he knew what he did was wrong. He’d been haunted day and night by Bucky, the man who I was completely head over heels for. In some way, it felt poetic that Bucky and I had ended up together. I couldn’t magically heal his trauma, but for every bit of torture my dad and countless others inflicted upon him, I was now there to shower him in the love and safety he deserved.

“Have you…forgiven him for what he did?” I hesitantly asked.

“You know, after all these years, I’m still not sure what forgiveness looks like in a situation like this,” she admitted with a small shrug, “We weren’t affected, yet his past put us in danger, especially you. And now, seeing the man that he was paid to hurt and how much joy he brings you, it’s bringing up a lot of emotions I thought I’d buried. I know he regretted what he’d done with his whole being and I believe that, but I still question why he didn’t leave sooner. I wish I could give you a better answer but-“ “Mama,” I squeezed her hand and pushed back my tears to help her, “I’ve had this information for a week and I’m still spinning, I can’t imagine what it’s like to sit on it silently for this long. I was hellbent on keeping this from you but I’m actually relieved that I don’t have to hide it…” I took a trembling breath, “Dad did a lot of things wrong in his life, but I have a chance to do a lot of good. I’ve talked to Sam and I’m going to keep working with him, I’m done living with my hands tucked under my legs. I want to make the difference in the world that Dad thought he was making.” “I think you’re off to a pretty good start,” my mother replied, “I was terrified watching you fly around New York, but I’d also never been prouder of you.” A knock on the door followed by Bucky sticking his head through it broke us from the topic. “Am I interrupting?” he asked, his eyes widened slightly as he worried. “Not at all,” my mom said cheerily as she slowly rose from her seat, “I don’t want to keep you two any longer when you’ve got somewhere to be.”

I tightly embraced her and placed a kiss on her cheek, “Love you,” I whispered.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she replied, gesturing afterwards to Bucky who made his way over to her and allowed himself to be hugged by her, “Take care of my girl, James.” “I will,” Bucky promised, pulling back to give a nod full of conviction.

Once the two of us had shut my mom’s door and were back out in the hallway of the nursing home, Bucky noticed the slight puffiness of my eyes. “Happy tears or sad tears?” he asked as we walked down the hall.

“‘I don’t know’ tears,” I replied with a small smile, weaving my fingers between his gloved metal ones. “But well done, Sergeant. I’d consider that a successful mission,” I finished, receiving the laugh I loved so much and a kiss to the side of my head. I pressed my lips to the place on his shoulder where I knew underneath his layers Vibranium met his skin, one of his favorite places to be kissed. My phone went off then, alerting me to a text, I pulled it out of the pocket. “Bucky…” I muttered, stopping in the middle of the hall. “What is it?” he asked as he stepped back to join me, I held my phone out for both of us to read the ominous words displayed.

The world’s seen what you can do, come to Madripoor when you decide to use those hands for something worthwhile.

- The Power Broker

“How did they get my number?” I asked in surprise, letting Bucky take my phone to examine it closer as if he could find something I couldn’t. “I don’t know,” he answered, handing the device back to me, “But we’re changing it immediately, you need to show this to Sam soon as we get to the house.” “They’re not actually threatening me, seems more like a job offer than anything else that’s only going to be declined. Plus, they’re all the way in Madripoor,” I stuck the phone back in my pocket, “I’m not going to let this ruin our day.” Bucky frowned down at me as I took his arm once again, “You’re a little too relaxed about this.” “I’m a mutant who can make things move with her mind with Captain America for a brother and a Super Soldier for a boyfriend, I’d love to see the Power Broker try to mess with that.”

——

The dock was exactly how I loved to see it, packed and filled with joy.

Sam and Sarah had invited the whole town to the celebratory cookout, people of all ages flooding our corner of the bayou as Bucky and I pulled up. Sam had loaned us his truck for the duration of our stay and I was having the time of my life showing Bucky around Louisiana and there was nothing more Louisiana than a cookout with the entire community.

Bucky parked near the end of the dock and hopped out, carrying the ice cream cake that we’d picked up on our way. He crossed around the front of the truck to open the door for me, taking one of my hands and helping me hop out of the passenger side. After a dozen more reassurances during the drive that the text I’d received wasn’t worth freaking out about, he’d begun to relax. For once, he wasn’t trying to hide his emotions. I could see it plain as day on his face, he was genuinely excited to be back in Delacroix and even more excited when the familiar sounds of AJ and Cass hit our ears.

“Oh! There he is!” Bucky greeted as the boys ran up to us and began throwing fake punches at my boyfriend who willingly played along, dramatically dodging their imaginary hits. He raised up the hand that held the cake over Cass’ head and yelled to which I quickly threw an energy shield underneath his arm to protect the overly expensive dessert.

“Aunt Y/n! Can you make us fly?” AJ came up to my side and begged.

Cass backed his brother up, “Yeah, can we? Please?” “No,” I replied, retaking Bucky’s hand and letting him lead us through the crowd, “But you can follow us with your two perfectly functional legs.” My nephews both groaned and laughed as they fell in step behind Bucky and I. “Where is everybody?” he asked as he set the cake down on one of the picnic tables set out and removed his sunglasses.

“Uncle Sam’s taking pictures with people, Mom’s cooking and Aunt Mel’s at one of the tables,” Cass answered, his face lighting up as he got a good luck at the dessert.

“After dinner,” I said, quickly having switched back into aunt mode, “Now lead the way.”

I extended my hand toward the boys and raised them up a few inches above the ground, receiving laughter and praises in return as I moved them ahead of us and through the crowd. Along the way people kept patting me on the back or sneaking in quick hugs, they shook Bucky’s hand and thanked us both for what we’d done in New York. The only thing that confused me was how people weren’t calling me by name. By the time we made it to Sarah, I had questions.

“There they are, America’s Power Couple,” she announced, coming out from behind the booth where she’d been chopping to hug us both. I pulled back to lower the boys back to the ground, “Do you know why people I’ve known almost all my life are suddenly calling me ‘Sapphire?’”

“Did you not check the internet at all when you were in Brooklyn?” she raised an eyebrow before pulling out her phone from her back pocket and pulling up Instagram, “Ever since the night of the fight, people have been referring to you as Sapphire. People are posting pictures of you, trying to get interviews with you, kids are even dressing up like you!” “Oh my gosh,” I mumbled as I scrolled through the hashtag containing the name, seeing all the proof of Sarah’s words before my eyes. Dozens and dozens of various types of photos displayed my signature shade of blue, “Bucky, look!” He took the phone out of my hand, a smile spreading across his face soon after. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly, handing the phone back to Sarah.

“You wanted the superhero life, you got it,” my sister laughed before returning to what she was doing, “Sam’s doing pictures and there’s already been people asking if you were gonna be here so I imagine they’re gonna want some with you.”

Bucky grabbed my hand and led me around to where a line had formed, spotting Sam as the destination. As soon as he caught a glimpse of us, he held up a finger to the crowd and broke away from them. The three of us exchanged hugs, me internally laughing to myself at the fact that two weeks after saying they never wanted to see one another again, they were now brothers in arms. Sam took my hand and tugged me towards where everyone was gathered, “Lotta people have been waiting for you, Sapphire,” he smirked.

As the day went on, the three of us did meet and greets with nearly everybody. At one point I found Bucky casually talking to Sarah with AJ, Cass and other neighborhood kids hanging off his vibranium arm. People had gathered around me as well asking to levitate them, something that provided entertainment for everyone. We ate, we laughed, at one point I caught Sam and Bucky watching the sun set over the Louisiana waters. I couldn’t resist the temptation to sneak in between the two and was received with an arm around each of my sides. We’d fought a shared battle along with our own separate three and now that they’d all been put to rest, we could take a minute to enjoy the freedom we’d worked so hard for. The future was unknown, but I knew that if we’d made it through the mess of a week we’d had together, there wasn’t a whole lot that we couldn’t make it through.

——

When the sky darkened, the dock lights went on and the party kept going. Someone had brought out a Bluetooth speaker and there was now a section of the dock that acted as a makeshift dance floor. I was seated at a table with Melanie watching the show, baby Alexandria fast asleep in her arms. “So…Bucky,” my sister said teasingly teased.

I let out a loud sigh, “Bucky.” “He’s perfect for you,” she smiled, “I’m glad you brought him home.” “Me too,” I scanned the dock until I spotted my boyfriend, engrossed in a conversation with Sam, “He fits right into the family.” “I’ll say, the kids love him. Max and Sophia have been following him around all day, I’ve never been able to get the baby to sleep as fast as when he held her…” I chuckled, “Yeah, just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, you stuck a baby in his arms.” Mel snickered at my reaction, “Yeah, pretty sure every woman on the dock snapped a picture of that.” The two of us burst into laughter before hushing ourselves as to not wake the sleeping infant. “Hey, Sapphire,” she nudged my shin with her foot, “I’m proud of you.” “Well, that’s a far cry from how you felt last week,” I commented, remembering the fear in my sister’s voice from our phone calls in Riga.

“I’m always going to worry about you, but once I actually saw you do your thing,” she breathed, “I was just in awe of how you would risk your life to save all those people. It would be a waste to not put your gift to good use.” I leaned my head against hers and brushed a finger over Alexandria’s thinly haired head, appreciating the sweetness of the moment. Once a slow song came on the speakers, I watched as Bucky stepped away from Sam and made his way over to our table. “Can I steal your sister away for a dance?” he asked Mel. “Steal? You can keep her,” I shot my sister a faux smile while she watched on with a grin as I took Bucky’s outstretched hand and let him lead me away. “Gonna show me some more Madripoor moves?” I jested as we walked across the dock. “That was not dancing, although I did enjoy it,” Bucky replied, giving me a wink that could have melted me into a puddle, “I’ll show you what real dancing is.” I recognized the song as a version of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ and realized Bucky waited until now to show off any moves in his arsenal because it was probably the first song he recognized on the playlist. He encircled my waist with his flesh arm and took my hand in his Vibranium one, pulling me so close that there wasn’t any space left between us. He began to sway us slowly to the beat of the song. I rested my cheek against his, breathing in the scent of him mixed with the bayou evening air. As far as I was concerned, dancing in the arms of the man I was somehow lucky enough to call my own in the place I loved most in the world was the perfect end to a perfect day.

“Alright, I give…” I relented softly, close enough to his ear that I barley had to speak louder than a whisper for him to hear me, “Your version of dancing is better.” He gave a gentle laugh, the sweetest sound, and rubbed at my waist, “It’s more about the partner than it is the actual dance, think I’ve got the best one.”

“You certainly know how to make a girl blush, Sergeant Barnes,” I replied just before he spun me out of his arms and back into his body, “When’s your flight back to Brooklyn?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, “Already tired of me?”

“Never,” I shook my head with a genuine smile, “Just trying to soak in all the time I can with you before you go back.” “About that…” he trailed off, turning his gaze to the various other couples dancing around us, “I was thinking of maybe extending my stay. I mean the scenery’s nice, good food,” he looked back to me, “Decent people.” The grin that I was fighting was starting to make itself very apparent, “What are you saying?” “Well,” Bucky shrugged and looked away again, “I mean, I’d need to find a place, hopefully nothing too expensive or else I’d have to find a roommate and even then, it’d be hard to find someone I like enough to live with…”

“Bucky…” I’d ceased our movements to show just how serious I was, searching his face to try and tell if he was joking or not. “What do you say, doll? You think you can put up with me a little while longer?” he asked with a smirk. I exhaled happily and pulled him down to my lips, kissing him with all the excitement that filled my veins at the prospect of him staying. When we finally pulled away, I cradled his cheek in my hand. “I will put up with you for as long as you want,” I beamed, pecking his lips once more. “I’m glad,” Bucky kissed my temple, “It was either telling you this or the other thing…” “What’s the other thing?” I asked, thinning my eyes at him in expectancy of another surprise.

Bucky drew a breath, taking a few seconds to steady himself for whatever he was planning to say. “Well, I was going to tell you that I love you but,” he clicked his teeth, “Now that I think about it, it’s probably better saved for another time,” The earth ceased to move and spin at a dizzying pace all at once, his blue eyes never more truthful than they were in that moment. “I think you’re right,” I said over the lump in my throat, holding back the tears that had come all to quickly, “Best to save that for another day, wouldn’t want to make a hasty declaration or anything...” “That’s what I was thinking,” Bucky replied plainly, continuing our charade. I gave him a watery smile, bringing one of my hands up to run through the hairs at the base of his neck. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Both of Bucky’s arms wrapped around my waist, clutching me as tight as he could without actually injuring me as our lips met. I encircled his neck and relaxed into him completely, feeing aglow with the love that I could finally admit to feeling. Both of us smiled into the kiss, feeding off of the mutual joy of what was unfolding before us. Was it crazy to commit in the ways I was committing to a man I’d known for only two weeks? To some, yes. But ‘some’ hadn’t formed the bond that Bucky and I had over the short span of time it had taken for me to fall in love with him. We had seen the best and the worst of each other, rising and falling with one another’s waves and learning what made the other tick. I wanted every part of him, the good, the bad, the traumatic and the pure. The quick decisions that would raise eyebrows made sense to us, and that was more than enough reason for me to see each one through.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Bucky said softly after we’d parted, pulling back to admire me. “Thanks for not letting me give you up,” I returned, staring up into the eyes that had first captured me. The eyes that I’d get to stare into each and every day.

Since the night we’d connected on the jet ride to Berlin, there was some way Bucky had made me feel that I couldn’t put a name to. Something I couldn’t understand at the time but I was fully aware of now. Bucky felt like home. And with our bright future ahead of us, wrapped in his arms dancing underneath the Louisiana stars, I’d never felt more at home.

----

A/N: I'm not crying, you're crying. GUYS. IT'S OVER. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY TIME NOW? I want to thank every single person who liked, commented, reblogged, sent messages and asks and supported this silly little fic I thought up one day after watching TFATWS. As someone who is super insecure about their writing, seeing it well received was a boost to my confidence to keep running with this. I've loved getting to write this and give it to you all and can't wait to write more for you. I'm adding my new taglist link for anyone who would like to be added, it's separated by the characters I write for and you can choose which ones you'd like to follow. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES AGAIN. I LOVE YOU ALL 3000!!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15 @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @patdsinner33 @rosebucketbarnes @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x platonic!reader #sam wilson x reader #marvel imagine

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rybsteinmedical · 2 years ago

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Diabetes Foot Care - Tips And Reasons To See A Podiatrist Regularly

Are you suffering from diabetes? If so, you should take good care of your foot health! Yes, you read that information right!

Foot problems are a common complication of having high blood sugar. People with this condition can experience foot problems due to two main reasons!

First, their blood supply may get affected and lead to slower healing. Secondly, they can lose sensation in their feet due to nerve damage. A person with nerve damage may not even realize that minor cuts in their feet can lead to ulcers.

If you have diabetes and want to avoid any complications in your foot health, it’s good to see a podiatrist in New York regularly. Getting your feet checked by your doctor can help diagnose the problem on time before it causes further damage to your nerves or legs.

This article describes the adverse effects of poor blood circulation in a diabetic person, suggestions to improve circulation, and some practical foot care tips to enhance foot health!

Poor Blood Circulation In Diabetics -

Poor blood circulation is a major cause of the slow healing of cuts and sores on your foot. How can you know if you have a blood circulation problem? It's when you have pain or cramps in the back of your legs while walking, sitting, or standing!

Mostly, this problem occurs due to the hardening of arteries when they clog up. Some of the common causes include excessive smoking, high cholesterol, increased blood glucose levels, etc.

How Can You Improve Blood Circulation?

Learning the cause of your poor circulation can help you take some steps to correct them! For example- you can follow these tips to improve your blood circulation -

Control blood-fat levels.

Control your blood sugar levels.

Do some sort of physical activity to maintain your fitness.

Give Up Smoking (or limit smoking).

You might have already heard and seen that smokers have a high risk of heart attacks, strokes, and blood circulation problems. This is because smoking can lead to spasms or narrowing of blood vessels. This, in turn, leads to foot problems in diabetics.

And most importantly, if you are from Brooklyn, you should see a primary care doctor in Brooklyn, NY, when you suspect you have diabetic foot complications. Getting the treatment at the right time can be the best idea to improve your blood circulation and prevent further damage to your nerves in the legs.

Foot Care Tips For Diabetic People -

A diabetic person needs to have his feet checked by a podiatrist in New York at least once or twice a year! Remember, diabetes can lead to gangrene, a dead black-colored tissue. Most of the time, it results from the delayed treatment of foot injuries.

Here Are Some Tips For Daily Foot Care -

People with diabetes and neuropathy or vascular disease can follow these tips to prevent foot problems -

Check the feet daily. Look for signs of infection, such as redness, swelling, or heat.

Keep the feet well-cleaned. Drying the area between the toes is important after washing the feet.

In case there is a lot of moisture between your toes, applying methylated spirits is good.

Make sure to apply moisturizer, especially on the cracked heel area.

Tips To Keep In Mind While Buying New Shoes -

Don’t buy shoes if you feel uncomfortable wearing them.

Try to avoid investing in open-toed and narrow-toed shoes.

Always have your feet measured first before purchasing any shoe pair. Make sure you buy a long enough pair with enough space inside.

How To Prevent Yourself From Getting Any Injury To The Feet?

Though you can reduce the chances of getting foot complications by visiting your doctor regularly, here are some more tips that can help you avoid injury on your feet with damaged nerves.

Never go somewhere barefoot.

Always wear appropriate shoes.

Refrain from wearing shoes that are too snug.

Reduce the chances of injury by wearing protective shoes that are well-fitted.

Make sure your toenails are clipped regularly.

If you have corn or calluses, get them treated by a podiatrist in New York or anywhere near your place.

Before stepping into the bathtub, check the water temperature with your elbow.

Do not put your feet close to the radiant heaters.

Visit your doctor regularly to check signs such as reduced circulation, sensation on your foot or abnormal foot structure, etc.

When To See A Doctor?

See your doctor if you feel pain, heat, or swelling, and observe discoloration in your feet! In case you develop a cut on your feet that becomes red and does not heal for a long time, do not hesitate to make a trip to a nearby clinic.

Diabetes is a condition that can negatively affect the blood circulation in your body. In addition, it can cause damage to your nerves in the feet. If you have diabetes, you need to observe the signs of foot problems early. Getting treatment from a primary care doctor or podiatrist in New York can help you stay on top of your foot health!

#Podiatrist in New York #Podiatry Services New York #Foot clinic New York #Foot care services New York #Primary Care Doctor Brooklyn NY #Internal Medicine Doctor Brooklyn #Foot and Ankle clinic New York

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health-quest · 5 years ago

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Treatment Options for Common Foot and Ankle Injuries

Of all the sports injuries and conditions, injuries to the foot and ankle are among the most debilitating. The foot and ankle are complex structures that balance and support the weight of the body while providing mobility. Foot and ankle injuries like sprains are common in active, athletic individuals engaged in sports activities like basketball, soccer, hockey, cricket and running. Pain felt in the foot or ankle may be a minor or temporary concern, but chronic or intense discomfort is a sign of a more serious condition that will require treatment.

Here are the common foot and ankle injuries treated in multispecialty healthcare centers:

* Achilles Tendonitis * Ankle sprain * Plantar fasciitis * Athlete’s foot * Stress fractures * Shin splints * Hammertoe * Turf toe

Orthopedic services in Brooklyn based healthcare centers focus on easing pain and helping patients recover from the injury quickly and return to their previous level of activity. Learn more: http://bit.ly/2TQWg5u

#foot and ankle injuries #Orthopedic services in Brooklyn #rehabilitation services in Brooklyn #chiropractic care #neurology services brooklyn #orthopedic care brooklyn #hip pain treatment brooklyn #chiropractic adjustment brooklyn #chiropractic therapy brooklyn #arthritis pain treatment brooklyn

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gmfiswriting · 4 years ago

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A Stark for sure - Chapter Two

A/N: THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE! So here you go; actual interaction between Tony and Calypso.

warning: angst-y lil piece

word count: 2.6 k

---

I should’ve taken that ride. Calypso sighed.

Brooklyn, 10 minutes ago.

“Yo kid, you sure you don’t want a ride?” Marcus yelled from across the street. “It’s almost 3 am, can’t be letting a kid like you walking home at this time.”

Calypso smiled as she was yanking at the now locked door of the restaurant. She turned towards Marcus’ direction and waved him off, “nah! I’m fine. Y’know it’s only a 15 minute walk.”

“You don’t know what can happen in 15 minutes!” He stated as he crossed the road again. Marcus, 17, the suave Latino senior at Midtown High School. The typical, lean, curly haired, tan guy that every girl and guy wanted to be friends with. “Plus you’re a little kid.” Marcus smirked and leaned against the window. Smirking, he casually pokes her side.

The action cause Calypso to jump and grab his hand in shock. “Marc! DON’T DO THAT!” She pouted and lightly kicked in his direction whilst taking a step back. “I may be little...” causing the boy to smirk and try to poke her again even though the girl held his wrist firmly, “but don’t forget who tutors you in chemistry, psychology and all that!” Calypso smirks as Marcus rolled his eyes. The usual ‘I’m-smarter-than-everyone-and-I-know-it’ Calypso Abreo vibe.

Marcus stood up straight and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re smart. Everyone knows.” He led her towards his motorbike as she struggled to walk away, “c’mon kid. I gotta make sure you get home safe or Mr. Lee will actually have my balls...” Marcus shivered at the thought while Calypso smirked and pulled away from him.

“Three thing. First, I’d pay to see tha- STOP!” She screamed as he poked her side again. Huffing, she continued, “secondly, I am walking home. I promise to call or text once I’m there.” He stared at her and she stared back.

“Fine!”

The girl smiled as they said their goodbyes. She turned and walked down the street as Marcus pulled up next to her again, “you forgot the third thing.” He pointed it out. Calypso kept walking as she stopped at their seperating street, she smiled innocently before insulting him by saying.

“I’d never let you drive again.” He gasped as crossed the road. A jab to his ego.

“I drive great!”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

Now, she stood there in an alley (which she shouldn’t have turned into) with a man holding a knife lazily.

“Give me your fucking money!”

“You sound like the vine.” She thought out loud before looking up towards a window, where she saw a woman talking into a phone frantically before signalling to the girl that the police were coming.

Letting out a sigh, she turned towards the man again and began to distract him. “Look man, I’m just 15. I have no money, unless $10 is enough for you. Y’know what,” she rambled on as she shifted from foot to foot, shuffling towards the trash cans as the man growled and lunged at her.

Calypso jumped back as he fell to the ground and grabbed the lid for the trash can before swinging it towards the man’s head. He yelled and grabbed his head as Calypso kicked the knife away and hit him with the lid every time he tried getting up.

“Hands up!” A husky voice sounded from the entrance. Calypso dropped the heavy item and turned towards the voice.

There stood Captain Holt, Detective Peralta and Detective Rosa. Three individuals that the young girl had gotten to know better over the past 2 years she had been living in Brooklyn. She gulped as Detective Rosa rushes past her and arrested the man before listing his rights.

“Now why are you out this late, kid?”

“Stuck on night duty, I see.” Calypso smirked up towards Detective Jake Peralta as Captain Holt stared down at her. “Fine. I finished late and I was walking home; wrong turn I guess...”

“You shouldn’t be walking home.” She wanted to interrupt the Captain but he grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her towards the car, “you know you shouldn’t do that. So you’ll be staying at the station until someone can come pick you up.”

---

��... Tony?” Happy called out. His friend hadn’t uttered more than a one word answer the whole drive; simply staring out the window or reading Pepper’s messages, not answering them though.

They had been parked outside the station for no longer than a minute. “Want me to go in w-,” before he could finish his sentence, Tony opened his door and told Happy to follow him.

Like a switch, the infamous ‘asshole’ Tony Stark came to life and his charisma overflowed. He smirked and walked up to the reception where he got instructions to head straight up stairs.

---

Calypso had been sitting by Gina Linetti’s desk, as she waited for Tony Stark. She didn’t know whether to call him dad, their interactions halted about 3 years ago. “Gina...” she called out to the brunette. “Please don’t be surprised about who picks me up. Like don’t instagram it or something...”

“Is it Beyoncé?”

“No but-.”

“Then I won’t care.” Gina answered, never even looking up from her phone.

Ding.

The elevator open and he stepped out. As he examined the room, Tony saw that long dark brown (almost black) hair. Calypso, he thought. People stopped and stared at him. Tony Stark. An Avenger. Iron Man was standing in their pen. They all started rushing towards him.

“Can I have a photo?”

“I love the Avengers.”

“I’m such a big fan.”

The usual comments while Tony tried to push past them towards the young girl. Gina stood and rushed towards the crowd whilst Calypso had stood up and waited by the desk; observing what was happening and not wanting to throw herself into the sea of people.

Hearing the commotion, Captain Halt walked out. “Everyone!” His workers stopped and stared at him, “back to your stations!” He demanded and was left slightly shocked, not that many would know from his reaction. Turning from Tony Stark to the young girl, he connected the dots. Nodding his head and gesturing towards his office for the two men and Calypso to talk.

“So, I’m guessing your Calypso’s father...” The Captain dragged on to which the Tony had confirmed. “Well. I’d just like to inform you of what had happened tonight and then we’ll see if you want to press charges.”

Calypso groaned. “No charges are to be pressed for me.” She stood and grabbed her bag, continuing her statement. “There’s no point. It’s a waste in time and money. He did commit assault and can be tested for substance abuse; give the man rehab not a shitty community service order.”

“Honey,” Tony started and turned towards his daughter to which she uncomfortably looked away from. This didn’t go unnoticed by the room, “you could’ve been hurt.”

“There’s no point in it, though.” The men knew she wasn’t going to ask for charges so Captain Holt pressed on.

“Fine. If no charges are to be pushed then please make sure you’re not walking home alone in the middle of the night. Mr. Stark, Mr. Hogan, please ensure this from now on. Good night, gentleman.” Raymond Holt stood and shook their hands before opening the door.

Walking out, Happy took charge while Raymond stood in his spot; staring down anyone that watched the father and daughter duo. Tony’s arm was wrapped around Calypso’s shoulder to shield her and comfort her from the stares. The girl only felt unsure about everything. How to react to the stares, the whispering, the contact with the man next to her. It was confusing that it was a fact her father was there in minutes for her, not questioning why but she knew he felt the need to make sure she was safe and okay. Maybe it was guilt but it truly wasn’t

AS they sat in the car, Tony couldn’t stop gaping like a fish; completely unsure on what to say or do while the young girl just stared out the window while feeling the same, if not more, uncertainty. The only time she had spoken when she told Happy her address and she wasn’t surprised about the fact that her father furrowed his brows to the new information. She had a guess that the man didn’t know the news about her mother but she couldn’t just bring it up. Sitting up straight and turning towards him with a small smile. “You okay, da-Mr. Stark?”

Happy looked at the central mirror to gauge his friend’s reaction to his precious daughter not calling him by that simple title. “Oh. Yeah. Perfect.” Tony nodded and slapped that stupid smirk on to which Happy shook his head to but brought a frown to Calypso’s innocent face. ‘She sees right through me,’ he thought to himself. She frowned more and this caused him to start blurting out random questions such as,

So how have you been?

So you work at a restaurant? Wait no café. No, a restaurant. Job experience is cool-important.

Don’t you have school tomorrow?

A cough interrupted the flustered old man’s nervous speech but luckily Calypso had given enough effort to sustain the conversation. “We’re here,” Happy spoke as he pulled up outside the townhouses. It made sense that Florence would choose this area to raise his girl. Happy and Tony knew her to be a comprising woman; not one to give up the bustling, city life but wanting to still live something suburb-able.

Staring at the townhouses, Tony started to think. Think about what could have been. Would there have been days where he would be stuck in his office and Florence would have to pry him away from his work? Days where he would have a casual stroll with Calypso when she was feeling overwhelmed? Nights spent watching movies together on the couch? Maybe a time where he would finally be able to cook something edible?

A million thoughts ran through his head and Calypso stared at him, wandering about the same things. What would life have been with him there? Where would she be? Who would she be?

“Um.” She spoke aloud and opened the door cautiously, “thanks for the ride home.” Smiling towards both men and exiting the car quickly. Crossing the street safely, a hand wrapped around her arm gently. Turning to the person, Tony was staring down at her.

“I’m sorry…” Confusion was written on her face so he elaborated, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there and I’m sorry I never tried to reach out…” He continued to apologise but it was one line that got to her. Happy watched from the car but saw the girl’s expression start to fall. A reaction he remembered that was identical to her mother’s. One that would only show when she was truly overwhelmed. “I’m sorry to you and your mother that I wasn’t there but I promise to be there from now on. For both of you.” Tears ran down her face, this was too much. All of this was too much. Calypso started to gasp for air and pushed him harshly. Shocked and fearful of the reaction, he stumbled back into his friend’s arms as the girl swiftly entered her home.

---

“What did I do?” Tony’s head was in his hands. He hadn’t been muttering to himself down in his lab before Pepper had dragged him out to the kitchen to ensure he at least ate something. The man had been stuck in his mind since the whole ordeal. Happy had to reassure him while Rhodes had tried to distract him with a new app Peter had showed the other, Tik Tok.

Steve and Natasha had walked in and out the dining area about 4 times, all unnoticed by the genius. “Tones, you good?” Natasha spoke right into his ear, very loudly. The only reaction she got was a sigh, a shrug and more mumbling.

His other teammates started to show up for lunch. Sam and Bucky were (unfortunately for everyone) to set the table which took the whole duration for the large meal to be cooked. Wanda smiled as she continued to cook and spoke softly to Tony. James Rhodey had filled everyone that something had happened and now they needed to make sure Tony didn’t spiral and make another Ultron. Bruce had to manoeuvre Tony to a seat at the table before they all ate. Chatter was small but steady; everyone uncomfortable with the state their friend was in, Peter especially. He had been holding in a question. Claypso Abreo. One of the nicest girls from Midtown. The sweetest, cutest girl that almost, if not every guy had a crush on. He needed to know how the man knew his crush; not that he had a crush on her (well not that he admit it).

“Hey Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice was louder than usual but no one paid mind to it. “How do you know Cal?”

Tony turned slowly to his protégé, “Cal?” Everyone froze. This was the first word he had actually spoke aloud and an actual answer to any question.

The boy gulped as his team/childhood heroes were staring him down, “yeah… Calypso.” That name again. Steve and Natasha shared a look again. “Everyone calls her Cal. She goes to my school. Big deal at my school. She’s really cute and smart and funny. An actual genius smart too. Like we’re meant to be in the same classes but she’s doing senior AP classes now.”

Tony continues to stare at the boy. This was a lot of information about his daughter coming at him at once. Rhodey was listening too but was watching the other’s reaction towards this scene; all of them eating whilst staring at either Peter’s rambling or Tony’s awed expression while still maintain another conversation. No one seemed to notice the loud booming steps walking towards the kitchen.

“… I don’t think she knows I exists. Like we met when she transferred into my calc class halfway through freshman year. Heard she had to move back to New York when her mum got sick. We bonded over a lot though. Oh yeah apparently she was born here in Man-“ The boy felt embarrassed. He had just realised how much of a simp he sounded like but he couldn’t shut up.

“Her mum got sick?” Rhodey questioned.

Peter stopped and stared at him, nodding. “Yeah. Cancer.”

Tony stiffened. “Cancer?”

“Yeah. Something in the brain? Cal changed when she died. I remember she didn’t show up to class for like a month…” Peter dragged on but Tony’s heart stopped. His hands started to sweat and its seemed like air was a pill he couldn’t swallow. His head simultaneously felt as light as a feather and too heavy to keep up. Steve stood up as he saw his friend swaying. The others stood too but Rhodey who stared down at his plate in shock

Everyone was scared. They called out for him as he stumbled back out of his chair and tried to run out. The team followed him out. He just needed to run away from that information. He couldn’t process it because to him it simply wasn’t real. Tony bumped into a body that held him up. He couldn’t resist as 4 simple words ran through his mind.

Florence. Died.

She’s. Dead.

Nick Fury held Tony up with a syringe in his hand, completely aware of the staring. Fury had an apologetic look on his face and that’s when he realised, Nick knew. Fury knew everything. He started grasping for air and pulling away from him. The brunette looked towards his teammates for help. Steve, Vision and Rhodes all stepped forward but Fury injected with the liquid into his neck with no problem and they all watched as the man’s eyes fluttered close.

And the last thing he heard was Fury’s voice whispering, “Stark. I’m sorry.”

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atlanticsportsmed12 · 4 months ago

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Expert Orthopedic Doctor In Brooklyn: Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine

When it comes to your musculoskeletal health, finding the right orthopedic doctor in Brooklyn is crucial. At Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, we understand the importance of expert care for your bones, joints, and muscles. Our team of skilled orthopedic specialists is dedicated to providing top-notch treatment for a wide range of conditions, from sports injuries to degenerative diseases.

Why Choose an Orthopedic Doctor in Brooklyn?

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At Atlantic Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, we invest in the latest technology to ensure our patients receive the best possible care. Our advanced diagnostic tools, including MRI and CT scanners, allow our orthopedic doctors in Brooklyn to accurately diagnose and plan treatments for various conditions.

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Every patient is unique, and so are their orthopedic needs. Our experienced orthopedic doctors in Brooklyn take the time to understand each patient's condition, lifestyle, and goals before developing a personalized treatment plan. This approach ensures that you receive the most appropriate and effective care for your specific situation.

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Commitment to Patient Education

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Convenient Brooklyn Location

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Multidisciplinary Approach

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 5 years ago

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Blackout | Random One-Shot Series, #2

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Second Billy Russo one-shot featuring one nasty citywide blackout. But really, it’s just a matter of perspective.

Warnings: S.M.U.T., language.

Synopsis: What happens when a major blackout hits the city of New York, and you find yourself stuck with Billy goddamn Russo in an elevator, your least favorite person under the sun? Well, you’re about to find out.

Feeling cold winter wind bite at the bare skin of your calves, you mentally curse yourself for zapping that pair of tights, now peacefully resting at your place on the kitchen table. Pacing back and forth in front of a posh building, gleamed with secretive whispers of for-glamorous-crowd-only, you keep squeezing your phone, waiting on Karen to show up with a fervency of a Christian awaiting for the second coming of Christ.

Oddly enough, the metaphor quite fits: through the glass doors of the apartment complex you make out polished wood floors of a foyer that could accommodate hell of a lot of sinners and a graceful mirror-like doors of an elevator that probably go all the way to heaven.

Why Karen has chosen this 12,000-square-foot executive lifestyle hub, a dramatic and tasteless atrocity, to hold Frank’s surprise birthday party is beyond your understanding. Even though you only arrived ten minutes ago you already miss your loft in Brooklyn, where everything feels warm, spacious and familiar.

Karen is running late, but what else is new. As much as you want to help her with the finishing touches, there is no way in hell you’re going up there all alone. You frown as you wonder for a second if there are already people up at Billy Russo’s penthouse quarters, because you’d rather freeze to death than find yourself one on one with the man. It’s been so long it has become a running inside joke among your close circle of friends - with you and Billy locked in the same room, the only way either of you is getting out is in a body bag.

Still, despite of their big mouths, you love your friends. So you make an effort to care about almost everything and everyone they hold dear.

There are, of course, exceptions. Tired of waiting outside in the cold, with a deep sigh, you enter the building. After a brief hesitation, you force yourself to push the elevator button and once it arrives, you step inside, inhaling a pleasant, sugary smell. Even if no one has arrived yet – in New York people tend to be late, just to make everyone think they have a life – you’d simply make yourself scarce and hide out in Russo’s bathroom until Karen or Curtis finally decide to show.

Just when the doors of the elevator are about to slide shut, a deep, raw voice calls out to you :

“Could you hold the doors for me please?...”

Driven by the sense of civic duty and by sheer curiosity, you press the necessary button. Little do you know, one look at the man’s face would make you want to singlehandedly shut them if needed, with his head smashed in between, his brain leaking out his ears and onto the floors.

Here he is. Your almost everyone. Your exception.

The first thing you see is, of course, his toned chest, wrapped in a neat white shirt that probably costs more than this goddamn building, and a hell of a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. His eyes, deep bottomless black oceans with glimmering flakes of ice, narrow as soon as he spots you, the muscles in his strong jaw chiseling.

“Y/L/N,” he breathes out in a badly masked annoyance, as he stumbles into the elevator, nearly slamming his right shoulder into your frame.

“Russo,” you retort, rolling your eyes. Out of all people attending the goddamn party, it’s with The fucking Pretty Boy that you somehow happen to share the elevator ride.

The last thing you want is to deal with Russo’s narcissistic antics and inferiority complex. The last time you crossed paths with him, you ended up bitching at each other for thirty minutes straight, making nasty side comments to each other until the all-American self-made jerk has finally crossed a line and you smashed a huge chunk of Curtis’ birthday cake into his face.

So yeah, Russo and you aren’t exactly buddies. And you remember exactly why.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine today,” surprised at the fact that Russo dares to attempt a small talk, you turn to stare at him blankly, second guessing how exactly he is expecting you to react.

Russo meets your gaze head-on, his eyes nearly begging you to start an argument.

Geez, you’re taken somewhat aback. Someone’s got their panties in a twist.

Your last chance to escape a long, torturous ride with the person you dislike most in the world goes out the window just as the doors of the elevator finally slide close.

“I was before you showed your face,” you fire back after sizing him up and turning away. From the corner of your eyes you notice Russo’s expression, like someone has just shit on his face.

“If youl keep looking at me like that the lunch in my stomach will turn sour”, you add, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the glowing numbers above the doors.

3 – 4 – 5….

Russo huffs contemptuously at your comeback, hatred that his body’s emanating hitting you in nauseating waves.

“Charming, as usual,” Billy states bitterly, showing mercy for your lunch for some reason and immediately looking away. Choosing to ignore whatever his problem is with you today, you fish your iPhone out of the Balenciaga bag, wanting to check whether Karen has shown any sign of being alive. Lightening up the dim screen and steadily fighting your desire to spit in Russo’s face with a booming Fuck Off!, you dial Page’s number, silently begging her to pick up.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Karen answers on the fifth beep, her voice a little too thin, betraying an emotion you can’t quite place. Page quickly clears her throat before continuing. “You’re….uh…. You’re at the party yet?”

“Hey to you too,” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion, worry digging a hole in your lower stomach. “So you’re not yet at the rave that you’re yourself throwing?... Classy, ” your eyes still glued to the switching numbers, you try to ignore the way your skin ripples, feeling Russo’s eyes piercing through your head. Surprised at your own angst, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to ignore the jerk’s presence entirely.

“Gee, I take it you stumbled into Russo,” Karen’s guess seems all too perfect, and you give Billy a suspicious side look. “I asked him to go fetch candles for the cake because I am already late as it is... I sure as hell hope he did not invite any bimbos to the party tonight, because I know how much you…”

“…thank you, Karen, you’ve made your point!” you blurt out as you try to contain the blush you know is spreading across your cheeks. Every time Karen speaks, she’s loud and confident - there is no doubt Russo heard every single word. “Listen, we’re in the elevator, I’ll shoot you a text when we’re….”

…at his place. The words never leave your lips. What you do let out is a yelp when your entire body jerks, the world spinning before your eyes. Your iPhone falls flat on the floor as the elevator comes to an abrupt stop, the building’s lights all going out simultaneously just as you lose your balance. When you’re about to fall back on the cold and dirty floors, you vaguely register strong hands snake around your waist, keeping you in place. It all happens in what feels like a millisecond, smooth and so frustratingly natural, that without even thinking twice about it, you go with a flow. Back in the vertical position, you blink rapidly as a few emergency lights turn on, casting a dim glow on the confined elevator space and your palms, pressed against Russo’s rock-hard, lean chest.

His scent immediately engulfs you, a subtle mix of oud and hickory spices, and you suddenly realize you’ve only been this close before once, save for the moment you smudged a piece of cake all over his face.

As you catch on Karen’s distressed voice, coming from the phones’ speaker, you fight off the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. As soon as they’re dealt with, you use your hands to push away from Russo’s dangerously enticing body, uncomfortable with the thoughts that circle around in your head.

And just like that, whatever it was that you shared just for a second, this moment, is gone. You pick up your phone, pressing it against your ear, as Billy backs himself against the wall, groaning and facepalming at the same time, the reality only starting to hit him from the looks of it.

“Guys? Helloooo? What the hell happened?!” Karen’s voice comes and goes, the service shitty on whatever floor you’ve stuck.

“Karen!” you exclaim, low key panicking. “Hey, Karen, we’re alright, we’re just stuck in the goddamn elevator!”

You press your free hand against the other ear in an attempt to hear Page better.

“She can’t do anything,” you flash Russo an irritated look, ignoring his words.

“Okay, listen you two, I’m going to call the building’s security or the fire department or whatever so they can try and get you out before you bite each other’s heads off. Meanwhile, I suggest that you sort out whatever the hell is going on between you two, because I won’t be held responsible for two deaths when I barely had time to enjoy my relationship with Frank. Understood?”

Something in Karen’s tone makes the horror of the situation finally dawn on you.

“Fuck,” you groan, running fingers through your messed up hair. You can almost swear you hear Russo echo your words. “Yeah alright, it isn’t like we have much of choice anyway. I’ll see you later then,” you say before giving Russo one of your trademark glares. “If I’m not behind bars for a homicide by the time help arrives”.

“Don’t worry”, Karen responds rather cheerfully. “I’ll bail your ass out.”

As soon as the call ends, heavy silence settles in, so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.

“Do you think the dynamic duo planned it?” Russo finally speaks, referring to Karen and Frank, without any doubt, as he leans against the wall and crosses his strong arms across his chest.

“Sure, they planned a fucking blackout. Your denseness never ceases to amaze, Russo”.

Upon the hearing of your unceremonious comment, Billy narrows his eyes, watching you, sporting a glower fierce enough to put the fear of God in anyone.

This is sure going to be a long wait.

******

The silence in the elevator is deafening. It’s so quiet, Billy swears he can hear the dust move in whirls, its thin layers disturbed by your heavy and impatient breathing. With your cheeks red and your eyes darting all over the elevator, you breathe in and out. It probably takes every once of your self-control not to grab him by his hair and smash his head against the elevator panel, repeatedly, till the fucking thing can function again.

Billy watches you fume silently in your corner, the question he’s been asking himself for ages threatening to fall off his tongue.

He hears you sigh again, as you wipe tiny beads of sweat from your forehead, and he knows. He just knows that this is his chance to get some answers. Actually, he couldn’t have found a more convenient time and place to demand some kind of an explanation from you – at least, now, you have nowhere to run.

“Why do you hate me so much, Y/L/N?” Russo’s voice cuts the silence like an nuclear bomb going off. He can feel your entire body shudder as you turn your head in his direction, your eyes widening a bit, as if you’ve just acknowledged he was here the entire time.

Billy knows exactly what to expect from you, and as you confirm his expectations, he starts to regret his attempt at a heart-to-heart talk with you.

You roll your eyes before crossing your hands over your chest, your stare blank but determined.

“Please,” you huff, “I don’t hate you, Russo. Hating is exhausting”.

“Exactly,” Billy picks up almost immediately after you’re finished talking. “Why waste all that energy?”

You look at him, chomping on your lips in annoyance.

“I said I don’t hate you,” you repeat stubbornly. “In order to hate you I’d have to be emotionally invested. And I’m not. If you must know, you’re an asshole, and it’s just that I have zero tolerance for assholes”.

For some reason, your answer makes Billy chuckle quite heartily, as he turns away and slides down the elevator wall to sit on his ass. Spreading his legs some, he stretches his long arms and puts them on top of his knees, his head pressed against the cool wall.

“Something funny?” still standing, you narrow your eyes at him.

Russo bites on his lips in order to keep his outburst of emotion in, and shakes his head, like you’re hopeless and he’s done with you. This makes your blood boil in your veins.

Arrogant little fucker.

“If you have something to say, just say it,” your tone is dismissive and calm for the most part, but it suffices to wipe the smirk from Russo’s face.

“Why bother?” he asks bitterly, his black eyes sparkling in the red light. “You probably have your head filled with bitchy comebacks that you’ve been preparing for this kind of situation. I’d rather you keep your mouth shut and we spend time stuck in this hot box in silence”.

Before you even realize it, you push off the wall of the elevator, your eyes blazing.

“Excuse me?” you hiss. “You are the one asking me to fucking talk! And when I do, you’re surprised that I actually have balls to tell you the truth, unlike all those Barbie bitches you spend your time with, getting off at the sound of them saying how awesome you are”.

Russo’s jaw drops open slightly. He definitely didn’t expect you to push back, but he should have known better by now.

A real Ballbuster, aren’t you?

“So this is why you’re always such a bitch to me,” Billy feigns revelation, his lips stretched in what can only be described as a devilish grin. “Is this because of that night in New York two years ago? When you had to ruin everything, without even telling me what the fuck was wrong?”

The way you watch him, unblinking, biting the inside of your cheek lets Billy know he has just hit a nail on the head. He doesn’t know what he’s expected from you, but it definitely wasn’t nothing; and that is exactly what he’s faced with.

You don’t speak. You blink a couple of times, hanging on to your composure, probably even mentally counting to ten... For a moment there, Billy thinks you really are going to kick him in the balls and thus justify the nickname that he’s long since given you.

But it’s like you don’t even see him anymore. Turning your entire body away from him, you stare at the closed doors, peeling off your jacket, hot leather sticking to your arms.

Billy’s watching your every move, taking in your body slowly and you can’t help but feel exposed – vulnerable. When his eyes meet yours, he asks:

“Why?”

His voice is stern, yet calm, and you bite on the bottom lip, your stomach churning.

Both of you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“It’s not important,” you finally speak, your voice steadier than you thought it’d be. “No one gives a damn anymore”.

“I do”, Billy’s voice rolls over you like thunder, your skin tingling at the sound. “I give a damn. If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t take every opportunity to chew me the fuck out when I’m around”.

He stands up in one gracious move, and makes a couple of steps in your direction, closing the space between the two of you. The smell of his cologne hits your nostrils again as he finally rests one of his arms on the wall behind you.

Staring into his pitch black irises, you still hold your ground, not moving an inch.

“What did I do?” Billy whispers, his lips itching closer to your face.

“What didn’t you do!” you throw both of your hands in the air, making Russo back off instinctively. Your mind is reeling, and you suddenly realize that all the shit you’ve had brewing inside of your head because of Russo for so long has got to spill out. You’re a bit surprised when you see a flash of relief momentarily grace Billy’s stare, but you brush the thought away quickly.

He wants to know why you hate him, well, the fucker is about to find out.

Billy watches you in what can only be described as an awe as you push towards him, until it’s his turn to back right into the wall. He’s about to ask what the hell do you think you’re doing, but the question is caught in his throat when you start to yell, finally letting go of all the anger you had bubbling inside for so long.

“How fucking dare you pretend like this is all some huge surprise to you?”, you’re full-on screaming now, and tears are ringing in your voice. “I thought we shared something that evening. I loved spending time with you on the roof, after everyone’s left! And I made it pretty fucking clear that night that I wanted you. I fucking told you so. I was waiting for your ass for hours, and a fucking prick that you are, I shouldn’t have been surprised to see you suck Madani’s face off the next day at the Homeland’s!”

God knows that this is a fucked-up situation. And as twisted as it is, your anger stirs something inside of Billy, causing his blood to flow south, straight to his groin.

“Have you any fucking idea what that felt like, with Madani and the others talking behind my back, the girl who was ready to spread her legs in front of Billy fucking Russo, and he didn’t even bother to take what was offered? Of course you don’t, because you didn’t give a shit. You barely looked at me, let alone spoke to me for the last two years, and now you dare asking me what did you do?!”

“You are insane”, Billy can’t help the harshness in his tone as he hears your ridiculous lies. As the words leave his mouth, he instantly regrets them, but the damage’s done. You turn your head away from him, hugging yourself, ashamed of the tears slowly rolling down your cheeks.

“I don’t understand,” he runs his fingers through his hair in desperation.

“Of course you don’t,” you huff, and quickly wipe your tear-stained cheeks. “You are so used to everything being offered to you.”

“Not everything”, Billy bites back, feeling irritated and helpless, because he is just so confused. “I texted you that night after you left the party telling you how much I, too, loved spending time with you. I even asked you out on a date for breakfast next morning. You never fucking answered.”

You stare at him like he’s grown a penis on his forehead.

“Were you that drunk?” you let out a bitter laugh. “I told you I’d have loved to, and I said that we could order in, and gave you my fucking address! Drop the fucking surprised act, Russo, you wrote me you were coming over! And of course you never showed. You left me feeling like a stupid whore, more so when I saw you kissing Madani on the steps of the Homeland Security next morning, out of all people!”

Confused expression slowly fades from Billy’s face. Something clicks in his head, and he looks like he’s finally assembling a puzzle on which he’s been working for quite some time.

“I’ve never gotten your texts. I checked twice that night… After Frankie brought my phone that I left at the bar, where Curtis, him and a couple of my Anvil guys were playing poker after the party…”

Silence is tense, and you can hear your ragged breaths join in an odd kind-of harmony.

“...Madani was with them, wasn’t she?” your voice is barely a whisper, when you finally figure it out.

“And Madani was there with them, yeah”, Billy repeats, still struck. “Unbelievable. The bitch hacked my phone.”

How dared she take his phone and violate his privacy like that? How fucking dared she meddle with something so important to him?

The next twenty minutes pass by slowly, the only sound coming from the confusion within the building. Both Billy and you don’t speak, letting this new discovery sink in, before he finally breaks and says:

“I’m an asshole.”

You look at him questioningly, and he can tell you're distancing yourself from him.

“I just saw you laughing with Curtis that morning when you showed up at Homeland, you looked so happy, and you didn’t even look at me, I was… hurt,” he confesses, staring into the ceiling. “I acted like a goddamn fool, and for that I am sorry”.

“It’s fine,” you answer almost immediately, avoiding his gaze. “Whatever. What’s done is done. It’s been two years, I honestly couldn’t care less”.

And there it is. Billy can see it now. The mask you wear whenever he enters the room. He isn’t going to buy it, not this time, when he’s finally gotten you to let your guard down a little, when you’ve finally admitted how hurt you were… When you’ve finally admitted you cared, for this entire time.

“You’re lying”, you shiver as Billy reaches out, his hands sliding up your arm, until his fingers grip your elbow. He manages to draw you closer to him, his mouth nearly caressing your ear as he whispers the words to you.

When you turn your head, ever so slightly, you catch his black eyes that burn into yours, and the rough grip of his fingers tightens on your hipbones.

How…? For how long has he been touching you like that?

When Billy’s name escapes your lips, it comes out in a breath, your tongue and lips caressing every syllable.

“I’ve been tortured for two years, thinking about how my name will sound falling off your lips,” Billy whispers, his eyes drinking in every detail of your face. “The way your pulse goes crazy when I touch you like that,” his lips hover over a sensitive spot next to your jawline as he speaks, “tells me you don’t mean it. Tells me that you care.”

Billy’s lips press against the tender beating just below your ear, and the sensation is overwhelming. You moan involuntary, as your skin catches fire, your hips bucking into his.

“I want it slow,” he says, his voice hoarse, but his hungry hands, running down your sides and squeezing your ass, tell another story entirely. “I want you to feel just what you have been missing”.

Heat pools in between your thighs in answer to his words, bare millimetres separating your lips. You take a second to look into Billy’s eyes, glassy, his irises so dark they’re indistinct… Burning rooms filled with dense smoke.

Billy meets your lips halfway, soft, full and demanding. He slips his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you, that he swallows greedily. His hands fist your hair, as he deepens the kiss, biting on your bottom lip.

It’s a feverish and emotional kiss, and Billy could pass out from the relief of feeling your mouth on his. He even fucking dreamed about this moment. Granted, in his mind this was never happening during a citywide blackout in an elevator, but it wasn’t as powerful as it feels right now, either.

He takes in every movement of your tongue, massaging his, every gasp falling off your swollen, reddened lips, and he’s so hard his pants might fucking split. The things get worse when you wrap your hands around his neck, your bodies pressed to each other in all the right places. Billy growls, something animalistic in the way he moves, when he grabs your hips again and lifts you up, pinning you to the wall.

The friction that results from your movements makes both of you moan, and you are suddenly glad you didn’t put that pair of tights on. Billy’s calloused hands slide up your thighs, your dress a mop of chiffon around your waist. When he presses one of his thumbs to that pulsating spot in between your legs, you swear under your breath; then he pushes your lingerie out of the way and draws circles on and around that swollen bud, making you whimper and bite his bottom lip so rough it surely must hurt.

“Please, Billy,” you gasp, and dig your nails in the back of his neck.

“Please what?” he asks, his breath hitting your collarbone.

When you don’t speak, grinding your hips on him, Billy growls again.

“You want me to fuck you raw, is that it?” your eyes go wide at his words, but your thighs part further. “I know, baby, I want that too. I need to feel you”.

Pressing your body into the elevator wall with his weight, Billy makes short work of his pants, letting them slide down his thighs. Quickly slipping a condom out of the pocket of his dark grey number, he tears the foil packet and rolls the latex on himself. Then he guides you gently as you lower yourself onto him, and you both gasp at the contact.

He bucks his hips to meet yours, and the feeling is exquisite. Billy cups your ass in his large hands, pushing his cock deeper inside of you, and your mind is reeling, as his mouth sucks on your neck so hard it’s sure going to leave a mark.

Billy circles his hips slowly in an attempt to find that spot, the one that will have you screaming his name in seconds. He nearly makes himself tear his gaze away from your chest, beads of sweat rolling in between your breasts. The shape of them is fucking perfect.

Your nails dig harder into his neck and that how he knows he found the spot he’s been searching for. His thrusting speeds up, and he can’t help but curse as your back arches into him. Your lips bite into his as you come undone, muffling your screams of pleasure.

Two more thrusts, as deep as they would go, and Billy moans, spilling into the condom.

Both of you are a panting mess, as you press your foreheads together. This is the moment the steady white light chooses to suddenly flick on.

“Right on time,” you whisper against his lips. You smirk at each other, and moments later it’s a full-blown laugh.

Letting you slide off him smoothly, Billy can’t stop picturing the way your body looked, pressed against his, as he wraps his silk handkerchief around the used condom and tucks it into one of the pocket of his trousers. He buckles his belt, never looking away. As you smile at him adjusting your dress, he cups your face and smashes his lips into yours, letting them linger.

Thank God for the fucking blackout, he thinks, lacing your fingers together, facing the elevator doors again. He turns his head to you though, because he can’t help the urge to stare at you, admire how beautiful you look with your wild eyes and smudged lipstick, still wearing the heat from his kisses and that rumpled dress…

Thank you for reading! Feedback and other blackout-related ideas are appreciated!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo x you #billy russo smut #ben barnes #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes oneshot #ben barnes smut #the punisher imagine #the punisher

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trillian-anders · 4 years ago

Text

amor de mi vida - 1949

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 3362

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

Sunset Park was ever growing with Hispanic population, in the years since you and your Mother came to New York the population had grown and people, while still not allowing certain people to mix, there was a little less of a stigma of someone brown walking down the street. Surprisingly enough the property you’d found was right across the street from the bodega where Bucky had first dragged you in trying to buy bread and the man refused you. It straddled the line of the Hispanic and white population in Brooklyn.

It was the perfect spot.

The upstairs level would be for sewing and crafting, the downstairs would house the shop and sales. Bucky and George painted the upstairs and downstairs, fit new light fixtures, and fixed the shoddy wiring that hadn’t been worked on, you were convinced, since electric light had been invented.

“What do you think?” He asked, coveralls splattered with paint and sweat on his brow. You grin up at him,

“I love it.”

The women you’d been selling dresses to over the past few years now had somewhere to shop and you could sell more products standardly while offering tailoring services. A big, ‘EVERYONE WELCOME’ sign in the front window. Which means you had to hire more people. You stuck to hiring women, the women who wanted to work in your community.

You figured things were going pretty well, until the first time you were vandalized. Broken glass and a clear message of not being welcome a month into opening. You couldn’t help but figure it might have something to do with the man across the street who seemed to remember your faces.

He stood there now, arms crossed. Lips pressed so tight they almost disappeared from his face. You huff, trying not try cry as the girls help you sweep up the glass. You called Bucky, knowing he was home with the kids, from the back office.

“The front window is shattered.” You couldn’t help but cry when you heard his voice.

“Okay,” He sighed, you could hear Grant fussing in the background, “Let me call my Pa and I’ll see what we can do.” The police didn’t care, but George was the one who originally talked to the inspectors and bank having already started his own business before.

He had someone out in an hour to fix the window and to install new, easier to pull down, grate for them.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, he’d finally got the kids to sleep. The excitement of Mama coming home and a quick dinner had been followed by a carefully orchestrated bath and bedtime routine. Now it was just the two of you, and the bottle of wine you’d opened.

“We are very lucky,” You start, “In New York they haven’t banned us being together, they segregate, sure, but we have a good amount of people who believe in integration. We don’t have a lot of problems with prejudice so sometimes I forget.” His hand met the back of your neck, massaging. “It’s just a little bit of a wake-up call.”

He shrugs, “I thought that now Jackie Robinson was playing for the Dodgers that people would be a little more accepting.” You glare at him and he laughs. “If we are being honest here...” Bucky sighs, taking a sip from his glass, “I worry about our kids.” He leans further into the couch, “I worry all the time about the day we have to send Jaime to school, I worry about them playing outside. I worry about things happening to you and the kids when I’m not here.”

People respected Bucky Barnes. He was a war hero, right hand man to Captain America himself. You lost count of the amount of times you’d take the kids for a walk and be stopped. Women wanting his autograph and men wanting to thank him for his service to the country. There was a level of protection there. It was possible that it was keeping you and your children safe. Not out of the realm of thought. Especially when you were actually with him out.

Without him was tight smiles and folks crossing the street to avoid you, like you were some kind of threat to them.

You lay your legs on his lap, wordlessly asking him to rub your aching feet. You’d worked the floor all day, first cleaning up glass and then helping with customers and you did four fittings in the afternoon. He drains his glass and begins to rub your stocking clad feet.

“How was the shop today besides the window?” Thumbs digging into the sole of your foot you moan, letting your head roll back against the armrest of the couch.

“Good, we sold ten dresses.” He switched to a different foot, “I think Amara and Rosalyn are a little more than friends.” He pauses, looking at you.

“Like?” You nod.

“Huh.” He shrugs, “That makes a lot more sense.” The two women, your first employees, told you they moved in together to save money and were tired of living in the boarding house. With their savings they bought a cute little property not far from the store. They also adopted a few animals.

“What did you think?” He shakes his head,

“I just thought they were strange.” They always seemed so fidgety, like they were doing something suspicious when you weren’t in the room, but it would make sense of having the fear of getting caught. An interracial marriage some could be okay with, but a same-sex marriage? That was a whole different story.

His fingers danced their way up your skirt, to your hose, removing the stay ups slowly, keeping eye contact, while massaging your foot with his other hand his fingers slipped under the hose and rolled the first one down your leg. Then the other.

“I missed you today.” He whispered, kissing your ankle. “We all missed you today.” He tapped your leg, tugging gently on your thigh to get you to sit up, straddling his lap. His erection was already straining against his trousers. You ground yourself against him, meeting his lips. His hands held your hips, moving you against him enough to tease. “It’s so sexy,” He whispers, going for the button on his slacks, you lift up, shimmying your panties off and tossing them to the side. “You're going off to work,” A breathy kiss, you bury your fingers in his hair, tilting his head back as you press kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. “You’re so talented dahlin.” He groaned as you sunk down onto him, rocking your hips with his hands. “So fucking talented.”

“Te quiero mucho.” Kisses wet and sloppy as you muffle your moans against his lips. His hand held the back of your neck, body slipping down to hover his hips off the couch, bringing your body close to his in order to thrust upward into you. Mouth pressed tightly to keep quiet while you came, fingers dipping between your thighs to strum your clit, riding out the pleasure while Bucky’s hips stuttered with release.

“I love you too sweetheart.” Erection staying stiff inside you. He breathes and lets you collapse on top of him before sighing, “We forgot to use a rubber.”

And just like that, pregnant again.

You pretended to be hateful. “This is all your fault.” But Bucky just laughed. “You planned this.” Grant crawled over his shoulder, going to tumble down his back, letting Bucky catch him before he falls, laughing and doing it again. Dia and Jaime were playing with the new dollhouse she’d received for her birthday. A present that ‘Santa’ brought her, but was really bought from Macy’s and you didn’t even want to ask Winnie how much it cost.

This pregnancy was a little rougher than the last three. You felt sick constantly and the ginger mints only did so much, aside from the fact that you started showing almost immediately. Your feet were swollen from working at the store and a rushed doctor visit was needed after you’d started spotting.

“Bed rest.” Was what the doctor said, you’d huffed indignantly. The last three pregnancies you’d lived normally up until the day they were born and the doctor had the nerve to tell you that it was because you were older now. You weren’t even thirty yet.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky tried to calm you down after you cursed the Doctor, “He’s an asshole, but if he’s recommending bed rest, you should probably rest.” So the keys to the shop were handed over to Amara and Rosalyn.

“I hate this.” You grumbled, the kids were a mess today, and you felt very stressed. You couldn’t do anything right for Jaime, Dia seemed to want nothing to do with you, and Grant was throwing a tantrum over a soft breeze. “When are you coming home?” You could hear him pause on the other end,

“About an hour left and I should be on my way.” The longest hour of your life.

The sickness, the bleeding, the swollen feet. You’d been blessed with twins by the way your belly was measuring. “You did this.” And Bucky laughed.

You sat in Peggy’s kitchen, snacking on a cheese plate she layed out for the two of you, grumbling about it.

“He doesn’t know what it’s like.” Peggy, radiant as ever, nods in understanding, “In the seven years of our marriage I’ve been pregnant for four of them. The other three he was gone.” Every year you’d been together resulting in pregnancy. Jaime and Dia within months of each other. Grant a little while after that, and then a break in between him and now. “I love my kids,” You defend, “But you’ll understand when you have them.” You sigh, rubbing your belly, “It’s difficult.”

“I’m not sure Steve and I are ready quite yet.” She laughs, “Our work is dangerous,” She wasn’t joking. You knew their apprehensions, you felt them every time Bucky walked out the door. You weren’t sure if he was coming home or not, every time. “But I’m living vicariously through you in the meantime.” The playpen was set up in the living room, the three kids in view of you, playing quite loudly to the noise of the radio. The boys were out back, fixing loose shingles on the roof.

“You can take one if you want,” You joke, arching your back trying to relieve some of the pain. Bucky stepped inside behind Steve, grabbing a drink from the fridge he lays a sweaty kiss on your cheek before going over to the chorus of Papa from their sitting room. Dia was the one who wanted his attention the most, her little feet climbing up on the gate and reaching her arms out to him while Grant and Jaime quickly lost interest as the noise from the radio changed. Bucky picked her up and brought her over to where you were sitting, handing her a piece of cheese to nibble on.

“You trying to sell our kids?” He asked.

“I’m trying to give them away for free.” Another kiss to your head and a hand on your belly.

“Baby.” Dia said. Pointing to your stomach.

“That’s right mija,” You smiled, “You want to feel the baby?” She nods, chewing on a finger. Bucky sits her on your lap, your sweet girl’s hair was finally growing, the soft brown curls done back with a bow, she put her hands on your tummy.

“Big belly.” She whispers, tapping on your stomach.

“There’s two babies in there mija.” She scrunches her nose, tapping on your belly again before reaching beside you for some more cheese. Bucky takes down the gate for the playpen, the other kids coming around to snack on cheese. Jaime whining to come up into your lap as well, Grant behind him. Peggy picks up Grant, settling him in her lap. Bucky taking Dia for you to let Jaime snuggle up into your lap. His body curled around your tummy, thumb in his mouth.

“Who would have ever thought.” Steve mused, “I thought you were crazy for chasing her the way you did.” Bucky chasing you, ten years ago now. So young and naive.

“I thank God every day that I did.” He grins at you and you could almost see the way he looked when he was seventeen, when he ran into you on the street and dragged you into a shop you knew you wouldn’t be allowed in.

You smile back, “Me too.” When Bucky leans in for a kiss Jaime groans and pushes him away, pulling you to him and making you give him a kiss on his forehead instead.

“Mama.” He whines, “I’m hungry.” You give Bucky a look.

“Alright mijo, let's get you something to eat.”

Something was wrong next door. The only reason you knew that was because the house was quiet today. Bucky had taken the kids to his parent’s house so you could nap, so you heard the shouting clear as day. You slipped out of bed, and walked to the bedroom window, the window facing the side of Martha Green’s house. The shouting was loud, almost frightening. Your hand fumbled with the bedside phone, dialing quickly.

“James,” You rest a hand on your belly, still looking out at the house, but their blinds were shut, “Something is happening next door, I think he’s hurting her.” There was a blood curdling scream you were sure he could hear,

“Call Steve,” He said, “I’m on my way.”

Steve didn’t answer, you placed the phone in the cradle and heard another scream. Waddling down the stairs, you knew it would take Bucky thirty minutes to get home. Another call to Steve, another unanswered call.

You could hear glass break. And you called the police. But how far out were they? You could hear her screaming and crying. There was a gun by the front door that felt heavy in your hands, shaking and nerves you walked outside, to her house and up the stairs. You knocked on the front door, hard.

There was a pause in noise, the gun heavy in your hand, hidden in the pocket of your house dress. The front door ripped open. You’d seen Martha’s husband a number of times and you believed Bucky when he said he didn’t think that he treated her very well. There was a wild look in his eyes and behind the small crack he opened you could see the shattered remains of what must have been their china cabinet.

You swallow nervously, but quickly ask, “Is Martha here? I uh… I came to return this.” In a quick moment of clarity you’d grabbed the glass dish you’d left by the front door that you’d asked Bucky to take back to Winnie, you thanked God he was forgetful in that moment. His jaw was tight and he looked down at the casserole dish in your hand.

His grip was rough on the dish, yanking it from your hand, “I’ll be sure to give it to her.” You see movement in the background, Martha. The two children hiccuping in tears as she ushered them in the closet under the stairs. You could see the bruises blooming on her face. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I would just like to talk to her.” You found some firmness.

“I’m sure she would not like to talk to you.” And you knew why. A spit at your feet. Your jaw clenched, your ears listened for sirens but you couldn’t hear any. It felt like it had been twenty minutes but you knew it had only been maybe five.

“Martha!” You called behind him. His hand quickly shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you into the house.

“You nosy fucking bitch.” Your back met the hallway wall, fingers fumbling for your gun. You quickly pulled it and aimed it at his chest. He looked startled and backed away.

“Martha.” You could see her out of the corner of your eyes, “Grab the kids and go to my house.” She was frozen in the doorway, the anger from her husband clear on his face. “Go!”

You were shaking, which was a mistake, he rushed you. You fired the gun but it missed, the bullet embedding itself in the wall above his shoulder. He quickly grabbed your arm and brought a fist down on your face. You fired the gun again, clipping him on his arm. Screaming as you fell, hands coming to protect your belly as you fell. The gun spun out from your grip.

Martha’s husband, the big hulking man he is, stepped over you and grabbed the gun, pointing it in your face. You gasp, coming back onto your knees, eyes springing with tears.

“You stupid fucking bitch.” He spits, pulling the hammer back. You’ve made a mistake. Your heart in your throat you grab your belly.

“You’re a fucking coward.” It springs from your throat before you can help it. His upper lip curling, his finger tenses on the trigger. But before he could pull it you see a flash of metal, Bucky’s hand going to grab his wrist with the gun and in one instant, disarms him and the gun, flinging the piece of metal to the side he wraps his arm around Martha’s husband’s neck, bringing him to the ground.

When he arrived home he found a bruised and beaten Martha sitting in his den, her two sobbing kids beside her. When she told him where you were, his heart dropped. He felt like he was going to be sick. He snuck through the back door and came into the hallway through their den. Stopping the man about to take his wife away from him.

“What were you thinking?” He would yell later. Crying. Both of you. “I told you to call Steve.”

“I did.” You were blubbery, “He didn’t answer.” Bucky sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face before turning back to you and sighing heavily.

“Come here baby,” A tight hug to his chest, “I’m sorry. You were so brave, I’m sorry.” Hands rubbing up and down your back as you cried. “Please, never do that again.” You’d talked to the police, Bucky backing your story and telling them what he’d done. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The next day Martha showed up on your doorstep, an apology pie in hand. “I just wanted to say thank you,” She was looking at her shoes. You stepped aside, inviting her in. Settled down at your kitchen table with a cup of coffee she continues, “I honestly thought he was going to kill me yesterday.” A rough swallow, “He almost killed you.” Her blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. “I’m sorry I was so jealous of seeing how your husband treated you.” Her lips swollen with bitten worry, “And I used race as an excuse to treat you poorly and for that I apologize.” Her hands shaking, you reach over to comfort her.

“I forgive you,” a mutual cry between new friends. “Listen,” You scribble down your number on the pad by the phone. “If you need help you can always call, James’ work…”

“I know what he does.” She thumbs the paper. “He’s a good man.” You smile softly,

“Yeah, he is.” You muse at the thought,

Ten long years have led to this. Five children and an ever passionate love between the two of you that, at first, you thought was a simple infatuation that would pass with time. But he loved you, he married you. He helped you create five beautiful children and you couldn’t help but love him endlessly for that.

He’s shown you how intensely he loves. Every single day. And doesn’t relent, even when things had gotten a little hard. You admire him for that, and know that he was true in every sense of the word.

His love was all consuming and with every kiss he lay on your lips the relationship between you grew more solid.

He truly was the love of your life.

And you were his.

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