#LET ME WATCH A STAR COLLAPSE I WANNA SEE A SUPERNOVA

[licorishh]

I desperately need a Subnautica-esque open world game set in deep space like BADLY

[h4yd3s]

Grasping for the Stratosphere (Ghostsoap oneshot)

(Contains spoilers for MW III)

So, this is my first time posting here, I hope I don't make a fool of myself. This is angst btw, so if you don't wanna read that I hope to see you next time when the stars align just right :]

Here's the song that inspired everything by the way: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNvk80XY9s

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Who dares wins…Sleep easy, soldier.”

“See you down range, brother, we’ll take it from here…”

“Rest in peace, Johnny.”

Flashback, Ghost

“L.T!” Ghost turned, looking over his shoulder. 

“Johnny.” He acknowledged back from where he was standing, leaning against a pillar in front of the base. Soap appeared next to him, jacket zipped up against the cold breeze. 

“Out here broodin’ without me, eh?” He asked jokingly, looking out into the night. Ghost gave a small shrug in reply. 

“Couldn’t stand you any longer.” He replied simply. Soap scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Fuck off, you know you like me.”  

“Yeah?”

The pair lapsed into silence, the only sound being the soft rustle of trees and the faint whisper of wind for a brief minute. Soap reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette carton, sliding one out for himself before offering it to Ghost. 

“Want one?” he glanced down at the carton, raising an eyebrow.

“You brought that all the way out here?” 

“Thought I might need it.” Soap replied, cigarette between his teeth. “You gonna take one, or what?” Ghost shook his head no.

“Suit yourself.” the Scotsman stuffed the battered box back into his pocket, taking out a lighter instead. Ghost watched as he lifted a hand up, cupping it over his mouth so he could light the cigarette. The end flares orange, glowing against the dark for a moment before dimming.

“Sky’s clear tonight. You can see the stars.” Soap remarked after taking a long drag, eyes pointed to the sky. Ghost followed his gaze up, the sight of the stars looking back down at him taking his breath away for a moment. How long ago was it since he looked up to the sky just because he could? Whenever he does it now it’s just to check if the exfil helicopter’s here yet or if there’s drones he needed to shoot down. He’d forgotten just how beautiful the sky was, but letting Soap have the honors of reminding him of its existence again made up for it. Nonetheless, he made an indifferent comment. 

“Didn’t know you were an astronomy sap, MacTavish.”

“I’m not an astronomy sap, I just said the stars are out tonight.” Soap retorted. “Can’t let a man enjoy anything these days, can you?”  

“Not when it’s you, no.” Soap gave him a look of feigned offense, putting his hand on his chest for added effect.

“You hurt me, L.T.” 

“I’m aware.”  another stretch of silence. Ghost never felt like he needed to put in effort to fill in those gaps between them whenever they sprang up. They felt natural, comforting even, so unlike the tension-filled voids that he grew up with. It felt safe. A part of him hated how effortlessly Soap was chipping away at the walls Ghost had spent a millennium building around himself,  but somewhere deep within the recesses of his heart, he yearned for more. He was allowed to just exist whenever he’s with him without having to justify why, and that meant everything. Soap took another puff from his cigarette, blowing the smoke towards the heavens.

“You know what’s funny though?” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the little pinpricks of light. “Some of these buggers are probably long dead, we just don’t see it yet because they’re millions of lightyears away.” So much for not being an astronomy sap. 

“What happens when a star dies?” Ghost asked. He didn’t know why he asked that. Frankly, he didn’t think he cared, up until now apparently. 

“It goes supernova.” the stars in Soap’s eyes could rival the stars in the sky. “The pressure in the core goes up so much that the atoms become unstable. Then,” he mimed an explosion. “it collapses, outshining whole galaxies for weeks on end and chucking its elements into space. Fuckin’ awesome, isn’t it?” it was.  

“And guess what?” he was fully animated now, talking with a passion that Ghost wished he could bottle up and keep with him forever. “The elements that they throw out, they end up in us.” Soap poked a finger at Ghost’s chest. “ Carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, the stuff that keeps us alive, it all came from there,  billions of years ago.” his hand moved away from him, pointing instead to the vast expanse of night that lay ahead of them.

“A star had to die for us to be here, Ghost. Can you fathom just how insane that is?” For a moment, all Ghost could do was stand there and take it all in, the last of Soap’s words hanging in the air like the smoke from his cigarette. He suddenly had the sense that he should’ve written this down somewhere, to document his words and immortalize it forever for himself instead of letting the breeze carry it away. But he didn’t have a pen, nor did he think that he could ever put into words what Soap just said to him again without having it sound like a crude translation, the true meaning covered up and tarnished. Finally, Ghost mustered up a reply, stepping closer and nudging Johnny lightly with his shoulder, a gesture of affection that shocked even himself.  

“Anorak.” Soap chuckled, taking one final drag before letting the cigarette butt fall to the ground, extinguished with a stomp of his boot. 

“Away and bile yer heid.” he replied, hitting Ghost’s shoulder, though he didn’t pull away immediately after, letting his hand linger there for a moment instead. If this had been anyone else, Ghost would’ve taken the liberty and stepped away himself, but Johnny wasn’t anyone else. He was Johnny, and he can stay. 

“Y’know, L.T,” Ghost turned his head to look at the man standing next to him, whose gaze is now back to the sky, regarding it like an old friend. 

“Yeah?” 

“ I like to think that when it’s my time to go, I’ll head back up there.” Soap tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied the constellations. “I think it’ll be nice. Kinda like coming home after a long mission.” If he’d had the choice, Ghost would rather he not go at all. 

“I s’pose so.” he replied instead. 

“Where’d you think you’ll go when it’s your time?” Ghost didn’t want to admit that he himself had spent hours laying in bed thinking about this exact topic, mulling it over with no conclusion in sight until now. Now, he decided, he didn’t care where he went. Just as long as Johnny’s with him, he could be in hell and still be content. 

“As long as it’s far away from where you are, I’m set.” Soap huffed out a laugh.  

“Arsehole.”

“Only to you, Johnny. Only to you.” 

Present

The walk back was long. 

It had been Ghost’s idea to spread Johnny’s ashes, stating the fact that he would’ve hated being stuck in a damn jar forever after his death. Seeing the hard-set determination in his eyes, what was left of the 141 obliged, and after scouring for a perfect place to lay their fallen comrade to rest, they set off. Ghost could only hope that what they chose did Johnny justice. 

The spot really was beautiful. They had wandered through the Scottish Highlands until they came across the perfect location, a cliff overlooking a lake with water as still as a mirror, and as the soldiers trekked back the way they came, Ghost couldn’t help but turn and look back one last time. The sun had long set by now, the moon taking its place as the ruler of the skies as he took in the scenery. He tilted his head up, looking for something else: stars. It’s almost a habit now, looking up at these burning pinpricks whenever he could. They shone just as brightly now as they did back in that fateful day outside the base, the fateful day he realized he fell hard for Johnny. That felt like a lifetime ago, though in truth probably only a month or so had passed since. He couldn’t bring himself to think about that night for too long, the wound ripped into his heart by the knife people called grief still weeping and raw. He thought the universe was done with him, that it had moved on and brought its sadistic games to someone else. He thought that he could finally have some semblance of peace, but no. The moment his shield was lowered, it came back full swing, sword gleaming. Now he was left to bleed out once more, and Ghost wondered if he could ever learn to love someone again.      

“Ghost?” he started, eyes snapping back to ground level. 

“Garrick.”

“You alright?” he had noticed him lagging behind, and had come back to check on him, eyebrows creased with concern. Ghost took a deep, steadying breath, willing himself not to break down right then and there in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” he replied a little too gruffly. Gaz hummed, seeing right through him, but not pushing any further. 

“We can give you a moment alone if you want. We’ll wait for you in the car.” Ghost nodded once.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gaz turned to leave, but he was stopped before he could.

“The stars are out tonight. Looks nice, doesn’t it?” he followed Ghost’s gaze, which was now pointed to the sky again. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Gaz answered tentatively, looking slightly confused. Ghost chuckled at the look on his face. 

“I’m becoming soft, I know.” he said, turning away. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” the other soldier nodded. 

“Hang in there, okay?” he said. Ghost nodded, grateful that the team still cared about him. Looking satisfied, Gaz walked up ahead, footsteps fading away. Ghost was alone again.

Well, not exactly.

He lifted a hand towards the night, grasping for the stratosphere, almost as if he tried hard enough he could take hold of Soap’s hand again. Soap, who Ghost knew, was finally home. 

“I’ll see you again one day in the stars, Johnny.”  he thought to himself.

And with a shuddering exhale, Ghost finally let himself cry.

--------

This is formatted so weirdly, oh well.

That's it for now! Take care of yourself!!!

haydes (pronounced as Hades)

[thepsychewrites]

The Complexities of a Black Hole — Pt. One

A Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Series

Summary: We learn the story of how you first met Bucky, and the whirlwind of emotions that followed. An evening of training and a cozy night spent with you and Bucky watching the Princess Bride made for the best day. Little did you know that only hours later something would happen to Bucky that would change your lives forever.

Warnings: This series and my entire blog is 18+ ONLY. MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. Frequent use of heavy and descriptive language. Mostly angst and fluff. Mentions of blood/slight and very brief gore, TWS, self deprecating thoughts, allusions to depression? If I missed anything please let me know!!

Word Count: 5.2K

A/N: The first part of TCoaBH. I wanna give a big thank you to my mutuals that helped me and supported me through this series so far with ideas and beta reading ( and a big thank you to @fandoms-writings for beta reading this chapter!! I love you so much Remi 😚) & etc!! I love you all so much. This series is my child and I’m very excited to share it with you all. Any reblogs, comments, and feedback is highly appreciated <3 Enjoy.

Main Masterlist

At the center of nearly every large galaxy in the known universe lies a black hole.

When a star reaches the end of its life cycle, it can have a dramatic exit, compressing its matter into the smallest form it can take and eventually collapsing. In some instances, when this star runs out of fuel and says its final goodbyes, it bursts into a bright supernova, leaving behind a new entity in its place – a black hole.

Bucky Barnes was a black hole. At least – that’s what he would compare himself to. Even on a good day, Bucky couldn’t help but to see himself as a gigantic pit of despair and darkness, sucking the life from any room he enters and being a massive inconvenience to everyone in close proximity.

Similar to a black hole, light never escaped Bucky. If you were to ask anyone who spent longer than an hour around him how often he smiled, the unanimous answer would sound something along the lines of, “Oh, well – I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen him smile.” Unless, of course, you were Steve Rogers. But even Steve would tell you that a grin from Bucky came few and far between, and felt a lot less genuine than before.

Similar to a black hole, Bucky Barnes was programmed to destroy. At least, that’s what he was told time and time again. And it’s what he has come to believe, no matter how many times he was reassured that he isn’t at fault for his own sins – Bucky would carry that belief to the grave.

Black holes are only dangerous if you get too close. The same can be said for Bucky Barnes.

Despite these deeply held beliefs, he had been doing better in the last few years.

Returning to a more normal life after being captured, tortured, and used by a terrorist organization for over seventy years was nothing short of difficult. Bucky had to relearn every aspect of life. How he needed to dress, how to tend to his basic needs like showering more than once a week and eating three meals a day, how to talk to other people in a friendly manner, how to ask for things when he needed help, how to use current technology – it was a tedious process. Most days he felt lost, like he had woken up on a foreign exoplanet where the technology was wildly advanced and nobody could understand a word he said. Actually – that’s exactly what it seemed like. On this planet, he was the alien. He was the oddity, the rare specimen that nobody could comprehend. It was isolating and rather miserable most of the time.

He woke up every day grateful for how far he’s come, but fearing the worst when he thought about his future. Steve compared him to an injured bird once – that despite his clipped wings, he’ll learn to fly again. Bucky scoffed at that – saying the only bird in the building was Sam. He was making improvements, slowly but surely, and everyone noticed.

However, there was one thing Bucky would always be cautious of, especially now in his newfound life.

Change.

It was inevitable, that much he was sure of. It threw him for a loop, made his mind stir with nagging thoughts all through the day and night. Even the little things would drive him crazy, like when Tony had all of the washers and dryers replaced and now they made a different chiming sound when the cycles were done. Something as simple as that nearly sent Bucky into a full blown panic attack. But it wasn’t just the little things like unfamiliar sounds – it was the people he had met along the way. The new faces and names he had to learn – living and working and experiencing life with them, getting to know them inside and out. What motivated them, what made them tick, what sent them spiraling – Bucky learned as much as he could.

The biggest change Bucky had experienced in the last year was you.

You came crashing into his life – quite literally – seven months ago. One afternoon Bucky was walking the halls of the Compound, trying to make his way outside so he could run on the track and “enjoy the fresh air for once” as Steve had said in a poor attempt to convince him, when, after turning a corner a little too quickly, you collided right into him. Apologies fled your mouth, backing away with wide eyes and looking as mortified as the time when Bucky walked in on Sam getting out of the shower, no towel in sight. The decorations you had shoved between your arms for your bedroom ended up scattered along the floor from the impact, little knickknacks rolling around the both of you. Feeling heavily embarrassed, Bucky crouched down, picking up the trinkets and offering to bring them to your room.

It was a memorable introduction to say the least. It still made him laugh when he thought back on it.

Bucky had always found it difficult to make friends. Even growing up, the only person he ever allowed himself to really get close to was Steve. Then you came along and flipped Bucky’s world upside down and inside out. There was something about you that enraptured Bucky, something indescribable that made him feel okay around you. Like the sky opened up and he could breathe again. It was an unseeable gravitational force that kept him within arms length at all times, which made it easy to get to know one another. Sure – there was a continuous hesitation from Bucky at the start, but he overcame that feeling rather fast.

“Tony didn’t tell you? She worked with Nasa for a while as a research scientist. She’s smarter than both of us combined, Buck.” Steve had informed Bucky a week after you moved in. Bucky was confused as to why he hadn’t seen much of you during mission briefings, questioning Steve on the matter. “Fury doesn’t want her in the field… something along the lines of ‘Would you send Albert Einstein into the Invasion of Normandy?’ Apparently she’s in the labs most of the day, helping Stark and Banner with the fun stuff.”

Bucky remembers the first time he saw you in the labs, with a large pair of safety glasses on as you handled some intense vials of chemicals, your tongue peeking from the side of your mouth as you focused, not even hearing him enter the room. He remembers tucking his leather-clad fist into the pocket of his trousers, the widening pit in his stomach dissolving at the sight of the insanely cute smile you flashed at him when you finally noticed his presence, muttering an apology as you hurried to put the liquids away to speak to him.

Nobody had ever smiled at Bucky like that before when he entered a room. He was used to grimaces, horribly hidden eye-rolls, or heavy sighs from others.

But you changed the game.

Eventually, he came to see you as a good friend. A close friend. Maybe even… a best friend?

Bucky wasn’t sure what having a best friend was supposed to feel like. He knew Steve was his best friend, and nobody could really replace him, but he and Steve had known each other their whole lives. They had earned the title of best friends when they were still in grade school, so it was natural for them to be close to one another, to care for one another. Steve could even be categorized as a brother at this point. But Bucky hadn’t made a best friend since.

Is this what it felt like?

He sighed into the open air, his hands twisting around a damp, sweat-ridden towel as he watched you saunter around the sparring ring with Sam. Despite the fact that you hardly ever went out on missions with them, you still enjoyed the physical training they offered to you when you joined. Bucky’s thoughts were getting the best of him again, distracting him when he was supposed to be focused, especially right now while they were getting some sparring in. He wiped the towel over his dripping forehead one last time before tossing it on the bench and standing up, fixing his hair in a low bun and making his way back over to the ring.

Bucky leaned against a corner post, his eyes following you intently as you circled Sam, fists balled up to block your chest, chin high with unwavering confidence.

At least, it was unwavering until you noticed Bucky’s stare on you. “Hey Buck, back for seconds?” You teased, your smirky grin only lasting a moment before your mouth fully opened in a gasp, your leg being pulled forward by Sam's causing you to lose your balance and land with a thump on the padded floor. A groan slipped from you, your hand going back to cradle your head. “God, Sammy, thanks for the concussion.”

A soft snicker came from Bucky, fortunately not loud enough for you or Sam to hear.

Sam simply shrugged his shoulders, offering a hand to help you up, his other sitting disappointingly on his hip. “Mhmm. You would’ve been able to counter that if you were paying any attention.”

Begrudgingly, you took it, pulling off the floor and regaining your balance. Once on your feet, you looked at Bucky and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. This is why I leave the crime fighting to you guys.” You mumbled, poorly concealing the smile creeping to your face as your hands moved to straighten your disheveled clothes.

God that smile.

Bucky would do just about anything to keep a permanent smile pulling at your pretty lips. It was like every evil thing that has ever plagued the Earth just disappeared when you beamed like that. Like nothing bad could ever happen again. And the way it made your eyes narrow and your nose scrunch up had Bucky’s cheeks turning pink, his head ducking down before you or Sam could notice. By the time his heart fell back into a normal pace, Sam was out of the ring and gathering his things while you chugged down some water.

“Hey, don’t forget,” Sam called to Bucky, his gym bag thrown over his shoulder as he faced the exit, “we still have that briefing tonight at nine for the trip to D.C tomorrow, so be there or be square. I think we all remember the scolding Steve gave you last time for poking around and being late. Again.” He said before promptly leaving the room, the glass door softly shutting behind him.

“Yeah Buck, you heard the man. Can’t be late again or Steve’s gonna get on your ass.” You said from the other side of the ring, your back against the rubber ropes.

Bucky scoffed, knowing it was you and your stupid new bedazzling gun that made him late last time. It took Bucky a solid four hours to pry the tiny fake jewels off of his holster, and of course it was right before a meeting with Fury. “You’re annoying.” He said with utmost sincerity.

Once again, Bucky was graced with a pull of your lips. “I know.” You said equally sincere.

There was a lingering gaze you left upon Bucky, a soft tingle traveling up the length of his spine.

He watched as your hands met at your front, wringing together in a shy manner. “So – you don't have to be at the briefing until nine… right?”

Bucky hummed.

“Wanna get a start on the Princess Bride, then? It’s next on our list.”

Oh, the list. A list you had curated specifically to get Bucky caught up on the wondrous twenty first century and all of the literature and films he had missed out on. The list was practically a mile long, filled with some of your favorites along with other suggestions from your teammates. Lately you had been raving about a book and film called The Princess Bride, a title that made Bucky assume it was just another fairytale story. But he would never be one to deny you, especially when you looked up at him with an excited sparkle in your eyes. Usually if a film accompanied a novel, you’d read the book first and then watch the movie adaptation, but without a copy of The Princess Bride on hand, the film alone would have to do.

Bucky allowed his lips to form a gentle grin, his heart beating wildly yet again. “Of course, let me shower first and we’ll start it.”

Thirty minutes later, after the both of you had scrubbed the sweat away from your bodies and freshened up, Bucky had found you in your bedroom with the lights off and an array of snacks laid across the foot of the bed. You were already laying down, clad in a navy long sleeved cotton tee and a tight pair of black shorts that left your silky smooth legs on display, a t.v remote in your hands, and your thumb pressing some buttons before the movie was pulled up. Upon seeing Bucky’s large frame leaning against the doorway you ushered him in, patting the empty spot of the mattress next to you.

Your eyes scanned his body as he moved to sit down, his plain black t-shirt hugging the muscles across his chest, his metal arm free of restriction. This is the Bucky you loved to see. He grew to be comfortable around you, especially in the quietness of your room where nobody else was looking in. Nobody else was watching him or expecting anything from him. It was just the two of you, exactly the way you both liked it.

Bucky huffed as he shifted his body to match your relaxed position, his hands clasping at his stomach. Though he was positive he couldn’t match your internal calmness, not when he could smell the coconut shampoo you had used in the shower, or the vanilla conditioner you often paired with it. The scent alone made his body tense up, his lungs filling to the brim with every breath he took.

“Now you have to pay attention to this one, Buck. It’s one of my favorites.” You teased quietly so as not to startle him in the current silence that surrounded you.

“I'll pay attention, don't worry.” He quipped back with a smirk, knocking his sweatpant covered knee into yours.

With another shared smile you finally pressed play, the opening scene flooding your room with bright colors. You leaned down to grab some of the snacks you prepared, a large bowl of popcorn, a bag of pretzels, and a few boxes of candy.

Bucky was slightly caught off guard, his brows furrowed as he turned to look at you. “I thought this was about a princess, who’s this little kid?” He asked, confused as to why a sickly boy was on the screen. “And who is that? His grandpa or something?”

“Just keep watching Buck, you’ll get it soon.” You giggled, knowing he'd have plenty of other questions and concerns as the movie played on.

As the old man sat down and opened the book he would read to his grandson, Bucky seemed to connect the dots a little better. He stayed quiet for only a minute longer before he had more commentary to spew.

Bucky wasn't expecting the film to be as lovey dovey as it was, especially in the first few minutes alone.“As you wish? This Westley guy sounds a bit whipped for that Buttercup, don't you think?” Bucky mumbled in between bites of popcorn, the bowl now resting in his lap.

You hummed in slight agreement. “I dunno, I think it's kinda sweet.”

Kinda sweet? Hmm, maybe Bucky should be taking notes on this, then. The way in which Westley looked at Buttercup oddly reminded him of how he often looked at you, with nothing but sincerity and reverence in his eyes. But the narrator said Westley was in love with Buttercup, and surely what Bucky felt for you didn’t mean he was in love.

Right?

As the movie continued, a story of princesses, sword fights, bad guys, adventure and love was unfurling before his eyes, Bucky tried his hardest to stay focused. He found his attention being swept elsewhere when you suddenly shifted closer to him, your head resting gently on the edge of his shoulder. He could feel each warm breath you exhaled against his skin, his nerve endings sparking. When you curled even closer into his side you had no idea you had just started a wildfire within the man. The heat of a thousand suns burned inside of Bucky from something as simple as your body next to his. It was voluntary, your desire to close the physical gap between the two of you. It didn’t gross you out, it didn’t make you flinch or cower. He nearly had the idea to pull you in further by wrapping his arm over your shoulder, but would that be too far? The second he said fuck it and began moving his arm, you spoke, stopping him in his tracks.

“Shit, is it nearly nine already?” You suddenly called, your eyes pointed up to the clock on the wall. “You should probably head to the meeting room before Cap comes and busts my door down.” With a quick press to the pause button the movie had stopped, the wildfire dying out as you pushed to sit upright.

His brows furrowed. “You’re not coming with?”

You hummed, a look of contemplation spreading across your features. “Do you want me to come with?” You asked sweetly, your fingers wrapping over the plastic remote as you laid it on your night stand.

All Bucky gave was a nod, but that was enough for you.

Bucky was silent as he walked next to you, too many thoughts invading his head to think about a single one clearly, let alone engage in small talk while he was at it. He was spacing out, the only thing keeping him tethered to the present was your blurry figure walking ahead of him to the elevators. He didn’t register getting in the elevator, nor stepping out and moving towards the meeting room, and not even sitting down beside you at the long conference table. Bucky eventually tuned back in when your knee began knocking against his. 

“Earth to Buck. You with us, bud?” You whispered next to his ear, his eyes focusing in on your concerned face, your look mirrored by Steve’s and Sam’s across from him. 

With a shake of his head he chuckled, playing off whatever happened. “Yeah, sorry – what were you saying?” Bucky turned to meet Steve’s eyes, the fog barely clearing. 

Steve was used to that foreign look on Bucky’s face, so he knew to tread lightly and keep the teasing at bay. “I said that I was glad you could make it on time, that’s all. Anyway, now that we’re here, let’s get started, shall we?” Steve said with the authoritative Captain voice he always used during meetings. He stood, shuffling to a wide screen and began detailing tomorrow's plans. Bucky was counting on you to be paying close attention, because he could hardly hear Steve, the muddled words drowned out behind the beats of his frantic heart. He was saying something about an abandoned building Fury had mentioned, a possible threat.

Like the world would run out of those any time soon.

Bucky slowly fell out of his spaced-out state, suddenly noticing the gentle circular patterns being drawn against his silver arm. The tips of your nails pressed against the chipped plates of his prosthetic, the motions barely registering from how soft and lazily you scrapped them across.

A thought crossed his mind just then, a memory seared into his brain of the first time you touched him.

“He doesn’t like hugs.” Steve had mumbled in your ear, pulling away from your embrace only to lean down uncomfortably in his gear and tactile suit. You were mostly hidden behind Steve’s large, towering frame, peeking out from around his bicep to study the panting man behind him.

The two had just returned to the Compound from a grueling mission, one that left a few civilians in critical care from the cruel acts of another narcissistic, egotistical evil-doer. They both came back utterly defeated and in low spirits, Bucky’s glazed-over eyes casting downward and refusing to meet yours as you stood before him.

Steve eventually walked away, his slight limp horribly masked by his ‘if I’m still breathing, I’m fine’ attitude, leaving you and Bucky alone in the eerily silent living room. You could hear the low, quick draws of breath invade his nose, the slump of his shoulders falling deeper and deeper by the second. The guy looked like he was going to fall over from exhaustion.

By this point, you and Bucky had shared a handful of conversations, a few of them lingering far past his normal social encounters. He was beginning to feel less guarded around you, noticing how isolated rays of the sun began to penetrate his long-standing concrete fortress he built for protection. So, when you stepped closer to his cowering body, he didn’t feel the sudden urge to back away. He didn’t feel the need to run and hide.

And when your arms opened for him, ever so carefully wrapping around his wide torso, your hands clasping at the bottom of his back – he had no urge other than to stay. He let you hold him for minutes, the two of you never leaving your spot, your feet planted solidly to the ground using your strength to hold the both of you steady.

He didn’t tell you at the time, but being so delicately shielded in your arms was the first time he felt safe that whole day. That whole week. That whole month.

No, who was he kidding? It’s the first time he felt that safe all fucking year.

Now, he longed for a touch he didn’t deserve. He yearned for the safety you provided, whether it was your body against his or your fingers grazing down his horrid, scar-ridden arm. It slowed the taunting words that raced through his head. It steadied his wretched heart. It was more generosity than he could ever hope to ask for.

“…So as I said, it should be an easy in and out. Fury deemed it fully abandoned, and from what I saw of it, I’d have to agree. The jet is leaving from hangar three at six sharp, so don’t be late. Especially you, Buck.”

The call of his name caused his eyes to shoot up, meeting the stern face of his captain. “Yeah, six sharp, got it.” Bucky confirmed with a slight nod. His mind was still wandering with the comforting drag of your fingers, wondering how long you’d hang onto him.

Eight minutes. That’s how long. Bucky counted each ticking second.

You eventually pulled away from him when the two of you stood in front of your bedroom door, Bucky walking back with you in a somber silence. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of another mission without you, even with Steve’s promise of returning the same day. Bucky didn’t want you to worry, and he knew that worrying was what you did best.

“Just be careful, alright? I know you always are but… still. No stupid decisions.” Your touch didn’t leave for good, your chest meeting his as your arms found their favorite spot against his waist. The top of your head was so close to his mouth, he had no other choice but to plant a short kiss to it, a lingering promise of his return mumbled quickly after.

Bucky kept his eyes on you as you disappeared into your room for the night, standing outside your door until he heard you climb into bed. It seemed as though, whether he was aware of it or not, Bucky might have been just as whipped for you as Westley was for Buttercup. Overstaying his welcome, he waited until the soothing sounds of your soft snoring floated to his ears, finally allowing his legs to carry him to his own bed.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Maybe you had every right in the world to worry.

Maybe Bucky wasn’t as strong as he thought he was.

Maybe he wasn’t fit for this job anymore.

Maybe he just screwed up the life he had begun building for himself.

Maybe what everyone else told him was true.

Maybe Bucky Barnes was nothing but a monster.

Frantic voices filled the air of the Compound, deafening orders being yelled into the room, your teammates running around with wide eyes.

Standing by the jet, motionless and panicked, you felt close to vomiting everywhere. What they said couldn’t be true, right? It couldn’t be. You refused to believe it. You refused to believe Bucky did what they reported back. The Bucky you knew couldn't have. He had gotten better, he was doing so good… making incredible progress. Surely it wasn’t that easy for him to re-enter that old headspace.

Right?

The Earth stopped spinning the moment you saw him. It seemed like the man you talked to barely ten hours ago had left, replaced with a stranger you could hardly recognize.

Bucky was unconscious, his body restrained and bloodied as he was dragged along the floor with Steve on one side and Sam on the other to carry him upright. His entire tactile suit was lathered in crimson, the color consuming him entirely. Steve was seething, his face sweaty and flushed, the veins in his neck and along his forehead protruding in anger as he barked at everyone to move out of the way. Sam was no better, his frazzled state only partially concealed by the stony expression he wore. You were frozen solid, unable to process the scene unfolding in front of your face.

As the men came closer you realized that Sam wasn’t holding onto Bucky’s left arm, but instead his shaking hands gripped at the edge of his dripping red kevlar vest. Forcing your eyes to his side, you immediately understood why.

Bucky’s left arm was gone. The silver prosthetic looked as if it had been viciously ripped off, mere remnants of what it once was left in its place, frayed wires and bent gears protruding from the damaged shoulder. A horrified gasp left you. Just yesterday you were holding onto that same arm, and in the blink of an eye it was just… gone? No – no… surely you had fallen into some ultra-realistic nightmare. This couldn’t really be happening. It couldn’t possibly be Bucky that–

“Y/n? You need to breathe.” A calm voice called to your side, a small hand pressing against yours.

It was Natasha. Her breaths were labored, yet no panic showed on her face. “He’s going to be–”

“Where are they taking him?” Your voice didn’t sound familiar, quiet and trembling with an uneasiness that hardly found you. Her hand squeezed down on yours, trying her best to steer you away from the full blown panic attack that was creeping up your spine.

You watched uneasily as they took him away, Tony, Bruce, Helen, and Clint jogging after them with loud stomps. Your feet were quick to follow – only to be hindered by Natasha’s hand to your chest. “Going after them now will do you no good. I’ll wait with you until we know more.”

Grinding down on your teeth, you hesitated. Screw waiting. But you knew she was right. Steve wouldn’t allow you to come anywhere near Bucky if what they said happened truly occurred. Reluctantly, you let Natasha guide you back inside and to the main floor living room.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

By the time any updates arrived, your fingernails were halfway chewed off, your leg bouncing up and down furiously from adrenaline. It had been hours since the boys came back, the sun now far below the horizon, a deep, unsettling dusk settling over the sky. Allowing your gaze to drift to the large window panes, you noticed how the stars were hiding tonight, protected by a sea of charcoal black clouds. Maybe they too were afraid of Bucky after seeing the violent acts he committed earlier.

Steve sauntered into the room, his eyes immediately finding yours as you stood up all too quickly. A breath lingered in your throat, waiting for him to speak.

“Bucky is going to be alright. He’s shaken and a little confused, but Dr. Cho has him stable.” Steve offered, barely getting the words out before you started in on the million questions inside your head.

“What the hell happened out there, Steve?” Sitting around for hours did nothing to calm you, tearing you apart little by little instead. “Simple recons don’t look like that.” You pointed a finger to the middle of the Compound, still having no idea where they took Bucky.

Steve’s head dropped, his hand coming to rub against his temple. “Fury and I were wrong. The place wasn’t abandoned — and it wasn’t just any old facility either. It was an old Hydra base…”

Your body seemed to shrivel under his voice.

You knew what was coming next.

“Please don’t tell me they–”

A single look from the man was all the confirmation you needed.

“It happened so fast… I couldn’t get Bucky out in time before they… before they started playing it over the intercoms. After he heard the first word — he looked at me with so much fear, and the next second he looked at me like he had no fucking clue who I was.” He took a deep breath, poorly attempting to cover the quiver in his voice. “We tried to get him out. But they had traps and guards started coming for us and… after Bucky stopped swinging at Sam and I he went straight for them. I couldn’t do anything but watch…”

He shifted back and forth, clearly not wanting to relive the events of earlier. “Then his arm… he got caught in a doorway and I had no choice.”

Your body swayed from the weight of this newfound information, Natasha getting up to stabilize you and move you back to the couch before your legs gave out. Tears pricked at your tired eyes, and you felt entirely helpless. One of your closest friends just had to relive decades worth of trauma because of a stupid mission gone wrong. It seemed unfathomable. No other mission, Hydra or not, had been this catastrophic for Bucky.

“When can I see him?” You feared the answer Steve would give.

“I’m not exactly…”

Steve’s words died in his throat as a gentle knocking came from behind him. The three of you simultaneously picked your heads up, eyes darting to the source.

Stepping out from behind the doorway was a tall man, his deep brown eyes soft and his expression calm and collected. The dark burgundy of his pants matched that of his wrinkle-free jacket, intricate gray detailings sewn in across the chest. It wasn’t anyone you recognized, yet he seemed oddly familiar. His voice drifted inside the room, smooth and precise.

“Captain — I just got off the phone with Shuri. They are ready whenever you are.”

PART ONE PLAYLIST

🌟Songs that have inspired this series 🌟

— April 10, 2019: Powehi - Image of a Black Hole

By Sleeping at Last

— Where We Landed

By SYML

— Atom 1

By Sleeping at Last

— Hold me Tight

By Berlinist

— Sunshine (Adagio in D Minor)

By John Murphy

I recommend listening to the songs in order as shown above. A master playlist will be linked at the end of the series.

Spotify Link to the Chapter One Playlist