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onceuponastory · 1 year

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give me thunder, give me lightning - the winter soldier x reader

Part Five of my Ghost Story AU - Find the series masterlist here

Plot: In the aftermath of HYDRA's return, things are rebuilt and redefined. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death/murder, violence, injuries/bruises (not too graphic though), weapons, nightmares, trauma, anxiety and angst. Once again, everything Bucky did as TWS and had done to him by HYDRA is a trigger. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: We made it to part five! Technically the final chapter? As always, thank you for enjoying this story so much. Here's a link to the song this chapter is named after, Take Me Dancing by The Maine. You'll need it for later ;)

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“W-What did you just say?” Y/N asks. She hopes this is just a mistake, something she misheard. Even the possibility of Bucky playing some cruel practical joke on her crosses her mind.

For a moment, she wonders if she was the one who got shoved backwards, who slammed her head against a table and is now lying against a cold, hard floor. If this is merely a dream, or a hallucination in a damaged mind.

Because Bucky, protective, loving Bucky, who looked at her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky, who listened to every single one of her stories about growing up and her family, even the boring ones, hanging onto every word, who at least said something when she spoke to him… now stares back at her like he doesn’t even know her.

Even death would be better than this.

As Bucky begins to walk towards them, she registers Steve saying: “Y/N. You should go. Let us handle this.” but she ignores his words.

“Bucky?” Silence. All Y/N can hear is the pounding of her heart. No recognition comes from him, and he continues to move forward, keeping his stare fixed on the trio. He’s like a completely different person, a shell of his former self. HYDRA must’ve wiped his memory again, or activated his trigger words again.

And that thought scares her to death. Not because of what Bucky could do to them, but what it means to him. Even as he bears down on them, all she can think about is how much this has messed up his healing, and how they could ever possibly fix this.

Steve and Sam try to fend him off, to break through his programming once more. And they put up a good fight, but Bucky’s moves are fluid and rapid, too calculated for them both. Whilst they’re cautious about harming him, he's not. He blocks every one of their attacks with ease and quickly deals out ones of his own. He shows them no mercy, dealing out punch after punch. Finally, Y/N sees the full extent of what Bucky’s capable of, the soldier HYDRA trained him to be.

And although she knows (or at least hopes) that Bucky wouldn’t hurt her, seeing him like this terrifies her.

“Y/N. Get out of here. Run.” Steve repeats, but she has no time to respond before Bucky throws him down.

And then, there’s nothing to protect her, nothing separating them both. Bucky stops in front of her, panting. The same pair of silvery blue eyes, now empty and cold, stare back at her. Immediately, she’s back in her grandma’s house again, facing Bucky for the first time. And now, she must fight for her survival again. But this time, it hurts even more. This time, there’s so much more at stake. For all the times she used to worry about Bucky trying to hurt her, she never actually imagined it would happen, or thought about what she would do if it ever did.

So now, she has no idea what to do, or how to save herself.

“Bucky, please.” The words leave her mouth as a strained gasp. As if her words could undo the decades of torture and suffering HYDRA put him through. But that's all she can do. It’s all she has. Steve and Sam, they’re superheroes, with weapons and other resources at their disposal, and that didn’t even work. All she has is her love for Bucky, and her want to bring him back.

And this time, she’s not sure it’s going to be enough.

But she has to try. She’s the only hope they have right now.

“Bucky. I-It’s me, remember? Y/N?” She’s aware of her voice cracking, a sign of the fear and pain of the last god knows how many hours finally taking their toll on her. And she hates it. She wishes she could be strong. Show Bucky that she’s not afraid, and that they’ll get through this together. But she can’t. “You met me at my grandma’s house, remember? It was a lot like this, actually.”

He’s silent. All he does is stare at her, calculating his next move. HYDRA told him to eliminate all their enemies here. He’s already fended off two of them with ease, and now it’s her turn.

So why hasn’t he done it yet?

“Everything’s different now, though.” She chuckles awkwardly. “But I know you’re still in there, Bucky, and I’ll bring you back, no matter what I do.”

Why won’t she stop calling me Bucky? He thinks. Why is she staring at me like that?

Yet, just as soon as his programming kicks in once more, and he readies his arm to eliminate this threat, another voice sounds, breaking through HYDRA’s orders. Fight it. Fight back. She’s right. Trust her. And he feels compelled to listen to it.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We all call you Bucky. You used to love it when I’d play my grandma’s records for you. You loved The Rolling Stones, but I think Ella Fitzgerald was your favourite.” His broken brain tries to put the pieces together, tries to find the song she means… but all that comes through is a garbled mess. The clearest part, though, is HYDRA’s programming. Fight it. The voice says again. Don’t let them destroy you again. But their programming is just too strong.

“Stop it.” He hisses. “Shut up.” She’d be lying if she said his coldness and cruelty don’t hurt, and she has to remind herself that it’s not actually him saying those words. She just has to persist. She has to bring him back.

“Remember the night I fell asleep, and you covered me with the blanket?” There’s a tingle up his human arm then, a feeling of soft cotton tucked around a sleeping form. Of the golden rays of the sunrise flooding into the room, warming his body. His heart starts beating faster. She looked so beautiful then… so radiant. “I was so afraid of you. I thought you were dangerous, and that you’d kill me right there and then. I must admit, a part of me thinks that, even now. But I know you won’t. I know it’s not you, Bucky. You’re not a monster. You never were.”

He registers shouting in his ear, furious voices ordering him to go out and kill everyone who stood in their way. Despite being reactivated by HYDRA again, he knew something was wrong, that some part of him didn’t want to do this. Suddenly, the mask shifts, and Bucky Barnes starts to break through. “Y-Y/N?”

Unfortunately, almost as soon as it shifts, HYDRA’s programming kicks in again, and he’s back to the soldier he once was. “Stop it.” He hisses.

“Never.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to save me?” He demands. Yet, his face shows no anger. It's more sadness than anything. As if he remembers just how brutal his life is, and that he’s already accepted he’s not worthy of love.

“Because I love you.” She wants to say, wants to shout it from the rooftops. It’s what she almost says, but the words get stuck in her throat. “Because I know it’s not you. It never was. You don’t want to do this, I know it. Please, Bucky.” She steps forward, closer to him, into the line of fire.

“Stay back.” He orders, pointing his gun, but she doesn’t stop.

“Bucky, this isn’t you.” She repeats. “Come back to me.” She’s crying now, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Her tears register something in his mind. This isn’t the first time he’s seen her crying, or pointed his gun at her.

How does he know her?

Why does he know her?

“Say it’s only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.” She sings, her voice soft and quiet at first. For a moment, she notices something in Bucky’s expression. It’s as if his programming slips again, and he hears her words. And they mean something to him. It’s almost as if the real Bucky comes through once more.

He’s sitting in a house, laughing and singing along. A happy warmth fills his blood. That was a wonderful memory. He felt… safe. He felt loved. Finally, he sees the girl he was with again. And she’s standing right in front of him.

His blue eyes look over her again. Like he’s discovering her for the first time again. “Y/N?” He whimpers. He seems shocked and confused, as if his true identity, his humanity, coming back was merely a switch being flicked. She smiles, a huge, wide smile as bright as the sun. And this time, Bucky recognises it.

“Hey Bucky.” He glances down at his hands, dropping his weapon to the floor immediately.

“W-What happened? Why am I holding a gun? D-Did I hurt you?” He panics, looking around wildly for any injuries.

“No, it’s okay. Shh. I’m here.” She soothes, clasping his hands tightly in the hopes they stop shaking. “And I’m okay.” Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Then he smiles, chuckling softly.

“Y/N… It’s so good to see-” But suddenly, he groans softly, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“Bucky?” she gasps, trying to hold on to the super soldier’s body as he begins to slump forward. The weight of his body almost knocks her over, but she keeps a grasp on him as tightly as she can. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” And once more, he’s silent. “Bucky!”

Sometime later, Bucky awakens, wincing at the bright light suddenly flooding the room. He groans, and his head pounds.

“He’s waking up.” Immediately, he’s on edge, expecting to see another HYDRA agent in front of him. Yet, thankfully, he recognises the voice. It’s Sam. Although, despite that, Bucky knows he can’t be too careful. This could be a trap to lure him into a false sense of security. It’s only when Steve and Sam step in front of him that Bucky slowly starts to relax. He tries to get up, but realises that something is pinning his metal arm down, preventing him from using it.

“Sorry. We had to be sure you were fully immobile.” Steve informs him. With a sigh, Bucky nods. They’re right, it is the best thing to do, especially when he’s still so unpredictable. But he’d be lying if he didn’t say that the fact that even his closest friends don’t feel safe around him didn’t hurt him deeply.

“W-What happened?” He frowns. He tries to find the memory, but like most of his memories, there’s just an empty space.

“We were hoping you could tell us that.” Bucky wracks his brain, looking for something, anything, to help.

“All I remember is we were trying to escape, but I got separated. I tried to get back to Y/N, but I got lost. And then, out of nowhere, these agents surrounded me.” The insignia on their uniforms jumps out at him, as clear as day. A final, sick reminder. “It was HYDRA.”

Suddenly, memories come flooding back. Not of HYDRA, though, or of Steve and Sam. Of Y/N. And he realises that she’s nowhere to be seen. His stomach drops, and he begins to panic once more. “Y/N! Where is she? Is she okay? Oh god, don’t tell me I’ve… please don’t tell me she's ....”

“Y/N’s fine.” Steve reassures him. “She’s resting.” And Bucky breathes the heaviest sigh of relief he swears he ever has before.

“Resting? From what? What happened?” Steve and Sam look between each other, and Bucky raises a brow. The longer they go without saying anything, the more worried he feels.

“You’re right. It was HYDRA who found you. We’re not entirely sure what happened, but they must have reactivated you and sent you out to stop us while they escaped.”

“Oh god.” He sighs, burying his face in his one free hand. “How bad was it?”

“Well, you definitely tried to stop us.” Sam begins, and from his tone, Bucky senses he shouldn’t press him on that any further. Guilt floods through him, and he groans.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay Buck.”

“No, it’s not. You two don’t have any idea what it’s like to be responsible for so much pain and carnage, but not even be aware of it. To have to question yourself every time you wake up, wondering what you did in the night. If you really were sleeping, or if you were out there, killing innocent people. You’ve never stared at yourself in the mirror and wondered about the true scale of what you’ve done, and how you can ever repent for it. And you haven’t had to worry about the people who did this to you finding you and doing it all over again, like today.” He snaps. When he sees their shocked faces staring back at him, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay Buck. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad, actually. Surface wounds at most.” Steve replies. Another small sigh of relief sounds from Bucky. That’s good. Not great, but good. They can work with this. Hopefully.

“Thank god. And thank you for bringing me back.” He sighs.

“Oh, that wasn’t us.” Sam informs him. The pair step aside, and Y/N steps forward.

“Bucky!” She smiles, immediately rushing over to him..

“Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He gasps, his voice full of sorrow. Will she ever be able to look at him again? Or will she always see him trying to kill them? He tried so hard to show her he’s not a monster, and this has just undone everything. Y/N kneels down in front of him until she’s eye level with him. Her eyes are so beautiful. How did he never notice that before? His only choice is to hope and pray that she’ll forgive him, and that she’ll ever be able to trust him again. A strand of Bucky’s hair falls down into his face, and Y/N reaches out and tucks it behind his ear.

“What are you saying sorry for?” She whispers. Bucky scoffs, shaking his head. There’s no way she can be this kind and forgiving. Especially after that.

“I tried to kill you.” She shakes her head.

“But you didn’t, remember? Just like before, you stopped yourself, and you came back.”

“Because of you. You’re amazing, Y/N. I don’t deserve you. I deserve to be alone. It’s not safe to be with me.” She cups his cheek, gazing into his eyes. And Bucky feels a warmth growing in his stomach once more.

“Well, that’s tough, because I’m not going anywhere.” She insists. “I know it wasn’t your choice, Bucky. It was HYDRA’s.”

“And what if they come back? They’re still out there, and the last thing I want is to-”

“Then we’ll be ready for them.” She finds his hand, squeezing it tightly. He feels so comforted by her grasp, so safe. He stares back at her, his heart pounding. No matter how hard he tries to convince her to leave, he knows she’s not going to listen. She’s stubborn as all hell, and she definitely isn’t going to give up anytime soon. But it’s so wonderful to have someone care about you so much that when they stare into the depths of hell with you, instead of running, they refuse to leave your side.

“You’re incredible.” He gasps, not even thinking. A light pink dusts his cheeks, and Y/N smiles, giggling a little.

“Besides,” She continues. “You promised me we’d be back in my grandma’s house, remember?” That feels so long ago, an entire lifetime ago. Bucky doesn’t even know if he’ll make it to tomorrow, let alone till then. But as he watches Y/N beaming over at him, and realises just how much he loves her, he knows he has to keep his promise to her. And he'll do his best to make it happen, no matter how long it takes.

In the aftermath of the attack, Y/N and Bucky are soon called into multiple meetings to find out how this could’ve happened, why it happened, and how to stop it from ever happening again. And Y/N hates every minute of them, especially how she has to see Bucky’s face as he has to relive his trauma over and over with every question they ask him, and how they keep prodding him for answers he clearly cannot remember enough to give. When they ask him if he had any knowledge of what HYDRA was planning, or if he had helped them do it, Y/N swears she could’ve thrown the table across the room in anger. Thankfully, they both have Steve and Sam in their corner defending them, and Fury and Maria help in their own… ‘special’ way.

When it is all finally over, the small matter of where Bucky should stay comes into question. Although the HQ looked alright from the outside, the attack raised so many questions on allegiances and safety that Bucky can no longer stay there. Neither Y/N nor Bucky wanted to ask if it was because they still thought he was responsible.

Thankfully, everyone in charge somehow seems to agree that the best place for Bucky wasn’t in a cell in Avengers HQ, but with Y/N in her safe apartment. Of course, Y/N is more happy to have him stay with her, but she’s confused why she was chosen first. Maybe they noticed the way she looks at him, and how hopelessly in love with him she is. But in all honesty, she doesn’t care about their reasoning. She’s just so thrilled to have Bucky back that she’s going to take every chance she can to be close to him after he’s been locked away for so long.

And the idea of living together with Bucky again is great. They're used to being together, just the two of them, and immediately felt happy to be going back to it. However, that happiness is very quickly shattered when the pair realise that SHIELD and the Avengers don’t exactly pride their safe houses on comfort or size. Or on having more than one occupant. And that means there’s only one available bed for them. Immediately, Bucky offers to take the couch. Both to be a gentleman, and because deep down, he’s still terrified that he’d scared her away from him for good.

“Bucky, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. Especially not after all this.” Y/N insists, ignoring his attempts to argue that he was fine, and that he’s used to this sort of thing. In return, her insistence that she would sleep on the couch caused just as many protests from him. After some deliberation, the pair eventually decide their only choice is to share the bed.

“I’ll um. I’ll just stay over here, okay? I just want you to be comfortable.” Bucky murmurs, scooting as far as he can to the edge of the bed without the risk of falling out. He sees a flash of disappointment across her face as she sees him trying to get as far away from her as possible, and his stomach twists with guilt. He hates being so far from her, but he still can’t trust himself around her yet, and this is the best way to ensure her safety.

When he wakes up in the middle of the night with another nightmare, screaming and thrashing to thwart the HYDRA agents he’s sure are coming for them both, Y/N is right by his side, wrapping her arms around his crying, shaking frame. Just like before, she stays by his side, whispering reassuring words into his ear and staying awake with him until he calms down enough to try to get some sleep. “Thank you.” He whispers into the darkness.

“Of course.” Her voice replies.

The next morning, she wakes up in his arms. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N finally feels safe. In his sleep, Bucky reflexively tightens his grasp on her, pulling her closer. Whether for her safety or his own comfort, she doesn’t know. But she loves it all the same. Being here, in Bucky’s arms, just the two of them, is perfect. Everything finally feels right. She looks up at him, his lips parted slightly as he softly snores. He looks so at peace, finally free after god knows how long. His hair falls in his face again, and it takes everything in her to not reach up and tuck it behind his ear once more. Despite how much she wants to be closer to him now, Bucky deserves this rest, and she won’t ruin it for him.

And besides, looking isn’t so bad, right?

As they’re both under strict orders to stay where they are until the investigation is over, Y/N and Bucky have plenty of free time to do whatever they want. And Y/N takes it as her opportunity to show Bucky some more of the things he’s missed over the years, like her favourite movies and books. She also makes sure to give Bucky the care he deserves. One night, when he feels comfortable enough, she runs him a bath and washes his hair for him, gently massaging the shampoo and conditioner into his scalp. Although Bucky flinches at her touch a few times, he soon feels safe and comfortable enough to relax. And besides, he knows Y/N could never hurt him. Even after everything he’s done, she’s stayed by his side and fought for him when it seemed like nobody else would.

Honestly, Bucky thinks he could thank her every minute of every day for the rest of her life, and it still wouldn’t be enough appreciation. As she gently rinses his hair, he glances over at her. And the familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach starts all over again. She’s so beautiful. So caring. Even if he never tells her how he feels, that whenever she laughs, his heart grows three sizes bigger, and that he thinks she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, even when she thinks she looks like a mess after waking up… he’s so grateful that he got to know her, and be cared for by her.

“That’s you all done, Bucky.” Y/N smiles. “Do you need anything else?” Bucky almost laughs at that. Because what else could she do for him? She’s done so much already. Too much, some would argue.

“No, thanks.” He smiles back, just as bright as Y/N’s. He wonders if she ever notices how he only seems to smile around her… or at least, even more than he does when he’s with Steve and Sam. Little does Bucky know, however, that Y/N has noticed. And every time she remembers it, it sends her heart into a spiral all over again.

“Okay. I’ll leave you in peace then.” As she gets up to leave, Bucky almost stops her, not ready to stop this moment just yet. But then he remembers where they are. How the hell is he going to explain why he wants her to stay to watch him getting out of a bathtub? Even though she’s just washed his hair for him, she’s never seen him like this before. So… undressed. It feels too intimate, too different for them both.

So he lets her go. As the door clicks shut behind her, Bucky sighs, leaning his head against the cool tiles. He can’t keep going on like this, of having his chest tighten every time he sees her, or have his heart beat faster and faster whenever she smiles. He has to tell her. He’s just too damn terrified.

Later that night, Y/N and Bucky sit together listening to music, like they do most nights. Somehow, though, tonight is different. There’s a different atmosphere in the air surrounding them, one neither is willing to mention. Because once that’s broken, and their feelings are out in the open… It changes everything. And despite the hell they’ve both been through, somehow admitting their feelings for each other is the scariest thing either of them could imagine. There are no take backs, no do overs. Once it’s done, that’s it.

“How’s your neck, by the way?” Bucky asks, gesturing to the bandage on it. A cruel reminder of the last few days.

“It’s, um, good.” She nods. “They said it won’t scar or anything, thank god.”

“That’s great then.” Y/N nods again, curtly. She’s never felt so strange around Bucky, even when they first met. Say something. Anything.

“Do you wanna dance with me?” She asks, her voice coming out so quickly that Bucky has to ask her to repeat herself. God, this is torture. Thankfully though, Bucky says yes, and pulls her up. Y/N presses shuffle on her phone, and soon the all too familiar guitar intro to Take Me Dancing by The Maine begins to play. Immediately, Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Oh god, I’m sorry, this is a slow song. I-I can change it.” She stammers, hating herself for being so obviously flustered.

“No, please don’t.” Bucky chuckles. “It’s been a while, but I was a pretty keen dancer back in the 40s. I could use a refresher.” He holds out his hand, scarred and bruised. “May I?” Y/N slips her hand into his, interlinking her fingers with his and gently running hers along his bruises. But he can see no judgement or fear in her gaze. She looks at him with the same comfort as she always has. Y/N moves his hand to her waist and takes her other hand in his.

The apartment wasn’t exactly made for slow dancing, but honestly, Y/N doesn’t care where they are. Because wherever she and Bucky are… that’s home. Bucky twirls her under his arm, holding her close as he sways her to the music. He really is a wonderful dancer. He definitely kept his skills from the 40s. She used to wonder what it’d have been like to know him then, and how different it would have been from their life now. Obviously, there’d be a lot less fear and violence, but honestly, she doesn’t care about that anymore. She’s so in love with Bucky that she’ll always take him as he is.

“Give me thunder, give me lightning, And I will give you every part of me.”

As John O’Callaghan’s voice fills the room, Y/N almost finds herself laughing at the lyrics. In a way, it’s a perfect representation of her life with Bucky. He was the storm that blew into her life, destroying everything she once knew. And for a moment, she was terrified he’d destroy her too. But now, they’re slow dancing together, finally safe. And she’s head over heels in love with him. Bucky steps closer to her without even thinking, pulling her even closer to his chest as his grasp tightens on her.

Even as the music fades out, Bucky keeps a hold on her, gently swaying her to their own rhythm. The warmth radiating from his body envelops them both, and she can hear his heartbeat through his chest.

“You know.” He murmurs, his stubble lightly grazing her cheek. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for what you did for me. What you continue to do for me.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck. You never did.”

“I do.” He disagrees. “I really do. You saved me, showed me what more there is to life. You may have given me my old life back, but you’ve given me something wonderful and new, too. Hope.” He looks at her properly now, light blue eyes staring into her soul. “And I can’t thank you enough for it. You’re a real angel, you know that?” She can see tears building in his eyes, and no doubt she’s close to tears, too. Her heart swells, and she smiles.

“You’re welcome, Bucky. But I wouldn’t say I’m an angel. I just saw you needed help, and I gave you it. Anyone else would.” Bucky blinks in surprise, unable to believe how this wonderful, beautiful person is undermining herself so much, especially when he owes his life to her. But he’ll tell her how special she is for the rest of his life.

“'Anyone else', is not you, Y/N.” He whispers, his breath hot against her cheek and sending a shiver down her spine. “And you are an angel to me.” Sniffling, Y/N nods.

“Thank you Bucky. I wish it could be like this all the time, just me and you, together.” She sighs.

“Me too.” Her eyes flicker to his lips. So pink. So soft. Have they always been so pink? God, it’s like I’m noticing him for the first time all over again.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“I have something I need to tell you.” Bucky takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.” Despite how often her heart beat increases around Bucky, in that moment Y/N swears she feels it stop. For a moment she thinks she misheard him, but when he continues, saying: “I don’t know when, o-or how it happened. But god, Y/N, I’m tired of pretending. I love you so much. And I want you to know it.” She’s too stunned to reply, and Bucky’s heart sinks, thinking she doesn't feel the same. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I-”

But a comforting hand on his forearm stops him. One he knows all too well. “Bucky.” Y/N smiles softly, tears already running down her cheeks. “I love you too.”

“You do?” He gasps. Gingerly, he raises his metal hand, wordlessly asking her if it’s okay to continue, and Y/N nods. Bucky cups her cheek with his metal hand, cool against her skin. He never thought something responsible for so much death and pain could hold something so beautiful. “Can I kiss you?” When she nods again, Bucky gently leans in close, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is firm, yet soft. It’s nothing like Y/N has ever experienced before. She pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. When they pull apart, Bucky’s cheeks are a soft pink, and he chuckles, no doubt trying to maintain his cool facade from the 40s, but completely failing. He gazes back at her, unable to stop smiling. “That was… perfect.” Y/N leans in, pecking his cheek.

“You’re perfect.” She whispers.

“Are you trying to get me to kiss you again?” He raises a brow, yet still can’t keep the grin off of his face. “Because it’s working.” And then he pulls her close once more.

“It’s not going to be for too long…. I hope.” Bucky reassures Y/N, squeezing her hand. Yet, as she glances over at him, she can tell he’s trying to put on a brave face himself. A few weeks after she and Bucky admitted their love for one another, King T’Challa, The King of Wakanda, and an ally of Steve and Sam’s, heard of Bucky’s plight and offered to take him in and use their technology to help him break free from HYDRA’s programming. Obviously, they both jumped at the chance. And now, the day that Bucky’s going to leave has finally come.

Y/N knows this is the best place for Bucky to be, and she’s incredibly glad that he finally gets the chance to heal, and grateful to T’Challa for giving him this chance. But the fact that Bucky’s leaving her is tearing her up inside. Thankfully, T’Challa was incredibly kind and understanding, telling her she can visit him whenever she wants, and that she can even stay there with him for a while if she wanted to.

And whilst she wants that more than anything, Y/N said no. At least, for the first little while. She loves Bucky more than anything in the world, and because of that, she wants to give him the best chance to heal. And to her, that means stepping back and letting him take as long as he needs to process this on his own. That doesn’t mean she’s going to completely stop talking to him, though. She’s going back to her grandma’s house for a week or two to assess the damage and deal with things there, and then she, Steve and Sam are going to Wakanda to visit him. She sighs, looking at Bucky.

Yet it still feels like she’s never going to see him again. Bucky pulls her into a hug, as if he senses her nerves. “I’ll see you soon, alright? And like T’Challa said, I’m sure we’ll be able to keep in contact somehow.”

“I know.” She manages a smile. “Just don’t forget about me, alright?” Bucky chuckles, giving her a quick, yet passionate kiss.

“Like I ever could.” They stay like that, in each other’s arms for a while, until T’Challa approaches them both.

“It’s time.” He smiles.

“Well, this is it.” Bucky chuckles, but she can see the tears shimmering in his eyes. Y/N surges forward, grabbing him and squeezing tightly.

“I love you.” She whimpers, and Bucky sniffles.

“I love you too.”

And with one last kiss, he’s gone.

Y/N makes the trip back to her grandma’s house in silence. Steve and Sam offered to go with her in case any rogue HYDRA agents were there, but she declined, still too emotional from saying goodbye to Bucky to even think about saying goodbye to them, even if it is just for a few weeks. The time she spent with them was so fast-paced and frightening, and it’s hard to believe it’s over, and how things are changing between them all.

The house still looks just as imposing as it did before, and the front steps still creak as she goes up them, advancing towards the front door. Her hands brush against the doorknob, and she braces herself for what she’s about to find. The memory of the last time she was here enters her mind once more, and Y/N sighs. If only she knew what awaited her the last time she opened that front door, maybe she wouldn’t have opened it. But deep down, she knows that if Bucky would’ve been there on the other side, she’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

Strangely, the house seems more or less the same since they left, only a few things out of place here and there, presumably caused by the wind blowing through the window Bucky broke. It’s like nobody has been there at all. Despite her footsteps around the house, it’s eerily quiet. Last time, she sensed Bucky’s presence, and knew she wasn’t alone. Now though, she can't feel a thing. Not even a ghost.

Every time she enters a room, a part of her expects to see Bucky sitting there, waiting for her. Like he was the last time she came here. And every time she realises he’s not there, it breaks her heart all over again. Finally, after she’s checked every room, the reality that everyone is really gone hits her, and she breaks down in tears.

She’s never felt so alone.

This is NOT the end of this story! There's still going to be an epilogue (that may turn into a final chapter depending on how long it is). They will get their happy ending, I promise!

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jawritter · 2 years

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My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 10 Final Chapter... for this year anyway....

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: 18 + ONLY!! This series is not for minors! If I find you, you will be blocked form my work!! SMUT, insecure reader, angst, finding out the truth about monsters, cliff hanger ending, (inserts evil laught here)

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

Y/N’s POV:

Y/N sat, eyes wide, stomach burning with anxiety and nerves, wide eyed at the two men that sat across from her and beside her. The story that they had just told her was so unbelievable, that there was absolutely NO way that they could have made it up. It also explained some things that Sam had around the house that she always counted as strange, like the bottles of holy water, bags of strange things sitting on shelves or in corners… that were apparently ‘hex bags’ for ‘protection.’

Sam had been doing the majority of the talking for the past hour, because when Dean got to certain parts in HIS side of the story, like going to hell for forty years, his mom's death… the second time… the loss of his best angle friend, Cas being the last part, he just stopped talking, and sat next to her in silence staring at the floor. Admittedly, she was sure there were parts of his story that he couldn’t remember after he was impaled to a pole. Parts that Sam would have had to tell. Parts about surgeries, and time spent in hospitals. How life after hunting, after trauma indescribable, and monsters and demons up until the point that they had met, those were things that Dean seemed to be unable to find words for.

She tried to cover it up. The sheer shock of things that they had told her would surely give her nightmares for the rest of her life, and suddenly, all those things she thought that was fake all of her life, all those things she was afraid of, all of those things that go bump in the night, and some things that she had never even heard of, to find out that they were real… that’s not something you just walk away from the same, and fuck, she was never going to be the same again.

“I would have given anything,” Dean said suddenly, his voice hoarse and strained as he kept his eyes lowered and his head bowed. “Anything at all, to have never had to tell you that. I would have taken it to my grave if I could have, but if you’re going to spend any amount of time in a relationship with me at all, you need to know the truth. I couldn’t lie to you, it would have just blown up in my face.”

Sam watched her closely, and God she’d love to know what he was thinking, seeing as this is what he wanted anyway, for her to be with his brother, which meant that surely he would have known this conversation was coming one day if his little plans laid out like he wished for them too. She was admittedly a little angry with him that he never told her anything about it. He had years to sit this up, soften the blow, but he never told her one word, and she’d have words with him about that later, when she was thinking clearer, and she had time to process it all.

"Y/N, say something, please," Dean pleaded.

His hands were tightly tripping the bottle in his hands in an attempt to hide the tremble in them. His breaths were erupting from his chest in small pants, and he was sweating ever so slightly at his hairline.

"I, I don't really know what to say," she admitted in earnest, and Sam nodded across from her.

"It's a lot," Sam voiced, "and the fact that you didn't run away screaming is more than I'd hoped for when Dean told me he wanted to tell you everything."

"I get it," Dean said, suddenly standing. "I'll uhm, I'll go to pack up my things and as soon as they bring the plows through tonight I will leave you guys alone. I'm sorry, I should have never came. You probably think we're nuts—"

"Hey," Y/N quickly reached for his hand to stop him from running away. "I never said you were crazy, and I never said I wanted you to leave or that I didn't believe you. It's just a LOT to process, and I don't know how I feel about it yet. Scared, fucking numb, angry that you've both had to go through so much trauma, even a little angry that you were left alone when Sam moved here, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna run away or that I want you too. You can't just drop a bomb like that and then run away. It doesn't work like that."

"I'm a lot more fucked up than I appear to be sweetheart, are you sure you still want to so this? That you're still interested in me?" Dean questioned, but slowly sat back down on the couch next to her when she pulled his arm towards her.

"And that's totally understandable," Y/N offered. "That doesn't mean you should recluse yourself and hide away from your family and people you care about."

Sam cleared his throat and stood from his seat across from the pair of them, for a moment, she had forgotten he was even in the room.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night, it's already after midnight, and you guys need to talk things out without me there.," Sam said, and Y/N's eyes drifted to the clock above the mantel.

"Fuck, it's already midnight?" Y/N whispered in astonishment.

"It wasn't exactly a short story to tell," Dean chuckled humorlessly next to her.

"Well, goodnight," Sam cleared his throat again at the sudden tenderness that filled the room, Miracle hot on his heels.

"Come on," Y/N said, standing suddenly. "Let's go get comfortable, that's enough of the heavy for now."

It was as if a cloud had rested over Dean's face. His eyes were darker. His shoulders were slumped slightly as if a weight of a thousand pounds had rested on Dean's shoulders. She didn't like seeing him like that. She didn't like that the light he carried from the moment he walked into her life seemed to have dimmed just a little by the darkness that had fallen from their past like a shadow of a passing storm. The worst of it may have been over, the wind and the rain and lightning no longer pounded against him, but the destruction remained. The darkness lingered. She could see it now, why Sam said he needed her. He was alone in an aftermath that was much bigger than him. He needed someone to help him pick up the pieces.

Dean followed her, completely silent. Neither of them had changed from their pajamas the night before, so she pulled back the cover, and invited him to crawl into bed next to her.

He stood there for a moment, his gaze shifting between the bed and the floor.

"What is Dean?" She questioned, she'd never seen him so unsure. Not that she'd known him all that long.

"Nothing, I just… I really didn't expect you to stay," he admitted before sliding slowly into the bed next to her.

"Well, I told you I didn't scare easy," she attempted to tease him.

"Maybe you should," he said, completely serious. "Everyone that I've ever loved, cared about, as you heard, they usually don't last long around me. Maybe I shouldn't have put you into this position at all."

"Dean, nothing supernatural ended Sarah's life. It was cancer. Something that can and has happened to anyone. That wasn’t you. You and Sam both said it yourself. Things are different now. It's okay, I'm okay, nothing bad will happen to you or me."

Dean nodded, still very unsure, and maybe he’d always be a little unsure, always waiting for the next shoe to drop, and everything to fall apart, that’d just be something she’d have to slowly work on fixing for him. He deserved some piece in his life.

“You know,” Dean said as slipped his arm around her, and pulled her in closer to him so that she was resting her head against his chest, the steady drum of his heart beating against her ear. “You and one other woman are all that I’ve ever told, you know, about what we really do. Well, women that weren’t part of the life, or became hunters. Sarah was a hunter already when I met her. Joe, I never gave her the chance she deserved, but she was raised in this shit. I was young and stupid, and she is probably my biggest regret, if I could have done it all over again… I guess the point I’m trying to make is that I’ve got a lot of regrets, and I have to live with those, there’s not a fix for that, but I don’t want us to be another one.”

“I’m not going to be Dean,” she told him again, and if she had too, she’d tell him a thousand times over. If it’s what he needed to hear, needed the assurance, she’d tell him over and over again.

Dean took a deep breath, willing himself to relax. She could feel how tense he was underneath her, and she wished there was a way to help him through it, because God she knew what it felt like to be all bound up like that. Talking about the things he’d talked about today had not been easy, at all. It’d taken a toll on him emotionally and physically.

She let her fingers trace the hard muscles of his chest through his thinner, white shirt. He shivered underneath her, and wrapped his arm tighter around her.

“So you’re really gonna stay?” She questioned, “Leave the bunker behind, and come here?”

Dean sighed heavily. “If it means being here with you, then yes.”

“But… you really don’t want to stay here, do you?”

She questioned, the sudden tightness around her own chest told her she already knew the answer to that question.

Dean moved, sliding down in the bed to lay on his side next to her so that he could see her, almost as if he sensed what she was feeling or thinking. It amazed her how they already seemed so connected.

“I wanna be wherever you are,” he assured her. “If that’s here, or fucking Miami, Florda, I’m there.”

“But The Bunker is the only home you’ve ever known—”

“The Bunker served its purpose for me, as I’m sure it will for someone else one day, but my HOME has always been where Sammy is, and now where you are. I”ve always been a bit of a nomad sweetheart. Starting over again here won't be as bad as I’m afraid it will be. I'm just having a little trouble letting things go in my old age, but once I get established, I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not old,” she countered, and deadpanned, a bit of the spark coming back into his eyes that had been dampened out by the earlier conversations of the past.

“You’re in a relationship with an old man, sweetheart, face it.”

“What can I say,” she teased, “I got daddy issues.”

It just slipped out, she normally never talked that way, she was just trying to be funny, and as soon as she did, the blush that covered her face had her damn near glowing.

“You’re adorable when you blush you know that,” Dean questioned, brushing her hair behind her ear so that he could see her face better, and fuck if that didn’t make her blush even harder.

“There is NOTHING cute or adorable on me, or about me,” Y/N said, attempting to hide her face from him.

“That’s not true at all,” Dean countered. “You’re gorgeous sweetheart, there’s not a flaw on you.”

“You haven’t seen me naked,” she shot back, and the impish smirk that crossed his lips probably had the power to melt her clothing slam off of her body.

“No, I haven’t, but fuck I”d sure like too.”

Dean’s finger tips traced her sides, and down her thighs. “You’re fucking beautiful baby. So soft, warm, inviting… God you have no idea how bad I’d love to see you naked. You wanna talk about flaws? My boney ass has plenty of them. But you, baby girl you look just how a woman should. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Whatever,” she argued, “have you seen yourself lately?”

“Every goddamn day baby, and it ain’t nothing to look at, but you,...”

Dean let his words trail off as his eyes traced every part of her body he could see. Drinking her in like a man dying of thirst.

Before she could argue with him any further, Dean captured her lips in his, kissing her deeply, doing his best to wash away every fear, every bit of anxiety, and every bit of insecurities. It worked. It was damn hard to focus on anything but Dean when his lips were tracing their way down her neck and shoulders. When his callous hands were making their way under her shirt and up her sides slowly trailing a line of fire in their wake.

He’d succeeded in keeping her thoroughly distracted until he took the hymn of her shirt in his hands, and began to lift it over her head, and she stopped him, suddenly afraid that when he saw that her stomach wasn’t so flat, or that she had stretch marks on her hips and her breast, that he’d run away screaming. He may have lived a literal nightmare, but he’d never seen her naked, and she was afraid that as soon as he did, he’d run.

"What's wrong, did I do something wrong?" Dean questioned quickly, and fuck if that didn't make her feel worse.

"You didn't do anything wrong, it's me. I… I don't know if you really want to see me naked, cause I'm not perfect by ANY standards."

Dean sat up in the bed, and for a moment she'd thought she'd made him mad when he stood up out of the bed. But to her surprise, with an almost sad face, he started to remove his own layers of clothing. Starting with his hot dog pj's, when he kicked his leg up on the bed, revealing a scare that looked a whole lot like a bullet hole in his thigh muscle before grabbing her hand, and running it over the discolored skin.

“I can show you imperfections sweetheart,” he continued, standing up straight, and ripping his shirt from his body, revealing a thin, yet soft tummy, and broad chest and shoulders, that looked like they had been carved out by the hand of God himself, but past the initial shock of it all, littered a multitude of scars among seas of freckles and tanned skin, and one tattoo, matching Sam’s, until he turned, revealing a good sized mark on his back, that was slightly indented, and once was a hole, where a piece of rebar almost took his life from him far too soon.

It took all she had in her to hold back the deep breath she almost gasped in, there was no way he should have survived that, yet here he was. Alive and well by some divine miracle that they didn’t even understand, and somehow, it made it all more real, like that was evidence of everything he’d ever told her.

“That’s just the shit you can see Baby, that ain’t got nothing on the years of mental and emotional scars that don’t show like these do.”

Dean turned around to face her, crawling back into the bed just as he’d been laying a moment ago.

“There ain’t nothing you got hidden under those close honey that is gonna run me off. I’ve seen some horrible, terrifying shit in my life, and I can assure you, there’s none of that on you at all. You have absolutely NO reason to hide from me whatsoever baby, I promise you, you’re gorgeous.”

Y/N’s mind and heart were racing, somewhere deep, DEEP down, she knew he was telling her the truth, but she still felt that hint of anxiety that screamed at her that she didn’t deserve someone as beautiful as him. Someone as brave as him. A fucking hero for fuck’s sake.

“Hey, but if you don’t want to go any further than this right here tonight, or any other night, I’m okay. I promise. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want you to think I’m pushing you for something I’m not.”

She looked up at him this time. No man alive had ever told her that before. She was by no means a virgin, but usually, it was what the male in the relationship wanted. They rarely ever cared about what she wanted or needed. Ever.

“No, no, I want to,” she’d said with determination after a moment. “I want to be close to you Dean, it’s just not that easy for me.”

“I wish you could see what I see,” he mused, scooping her up and pulling her close as he physically could to him. “Then maybe this wouldn’t be so hard for you.”

“Then show me,” she said, swallowing past the lump that had suddenly developed in her throat. “Show me what you see.”

That was all the prompting he needed to slip his hand around her back to brace her as he rolled her onto her back, his lips never leaving hers except when broke away to lift her shirt above her head. This time she let him, and he kept her busy with his lips to be well distracted as slowly, every layer of clothing she’d had, except her underwear, had slipped to the floor.

His fingers traced every inch of skin his lips couldn’t find as he worshiped her body, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses over each swell of her breast, and over stomach as he worked his way lower over her body, and as he made his descent, the more her anxiety grew.

“Dean,” she said, attempting to stop him, but he just raced back up towards her lips with his, kissing away what little bit of anxiety had risen there.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, “trust me.”

She nodded after a moment of internal struggle. She’d never had a man be THAT intimate with her before. Normally, any oral sex that was performed during sex with her, she was the one doing it. Usually, most men she’d been with were either really bad at it, or only cared about themselves.

But this was Dean, and Dean was different. When she looked at him, she didn’t see any judgment there. Just devotion, and caring, and more love than she’d ever been looked at with before, and it was enough to make her agree to it, even though she was a little afraid as he slipped her underwear off of her legs slowly, and centered himself between them, nibbling at her hips and making her giggle as he kissed his way up and down each thigh, avoiding where she desperately needed him the most, teasing.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said before leaning forward and licking a long, fat strip through her dripping center, and fuck if she didn’t damn near arch off of the bed as he devoured her, strong hands ripping her hips tightly as he sucked and licked at her swollen nub until her body was shaking around him, and band winding tighter and tighter until it snapped as suddenly as he’d wound it, and she fell apart like puddy in his hands, causing him to grow at lap at her, determined to take all she had to give him as if he was a man starved.

“Goddammit baby girl,” he swore as he slowly made his way back up her body, leaving little pecks and kisses along his way. “You taste as good as you look.”

Her mind was foggy, her body was limp and drained, and he’d just barely gotten started with her. She swore that this man had to be a fucking capital offense in several states with just his mouth alone, and she didn’t know if she’d actually survive him fucking her. Still, she was gonna try.

She reached for him, and he slowly slipped out of his boxers, revealing himself hard and leaking. God he was gorgeous, she’d never seen a more beautiful man in her life. He was a breathing work of art, and surely Gods or man would never make another more perfect man, and he was hers, she had to be dreaming, but if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up, ever.

“You okay baby?” he questioned, and she could only nod in response, words failing her. “Cause we can stop, I’m okay, we don’t have to go any further if you don’t want me to.”

“I want you to Dean, I’m fine,” she assured him, and he nodded before gripping himself to line himself up with her dripping center, causing her to gasp as he swiped his thick, spongy tip through her juices. Causing her to shiver.

“Look at me sweetheart, I want you to look at him,” he said, and she did, it took all the strength she had, but she did it, she forced her eyes open, and he slowly pushed himself into her quivering cunt with one smooth thrust that knocked the wind out of her.

The stretch and burn was more than she was used to, her muscles contracted around him as she adjusted to the sheer size and girth of him, and he stayed still there, letting her, not rushing, not pushing, even though it surely took some restraint on his part to stay like that.

“You’re so fucking perfect baby girl, don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re not,” he told her, kissing her deeply as he slowly started to rock his hips into her, pressing, grinding, helping her move her body along with his own, but never really pull away, instead he kept them locked together, holding onto her like a lifeline for a drowning man, and maybe in away he felt like he was drowning and had been for a long time, she knew she sure as hell felt that way a lot lately, but not now, not with him, she just felt complete; whole for the first time in her life.

“Dean, move,” she begged him, suddenly needing more of him needing to feel him, as he picked up the pace of their movements, grinding himself deeper into her, and driving her higher hand higher with every press of his lips down into her already sensitive clit.

“Not until you cum cause I’m not gonna last long,” he admitted, “cum for me sweetheart,” and she did, as if he had somehow managed to take over completely control of her body, and that’s when he pulled out and began to really trust into her, fucking her through her orgasm that had her vision blurring around the edges, and her body feeling like it was falling and somehow on fire all at the same time.

She came down from her high just in time to watch him fall apart, and fuck if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen as his body jerked and came to a still deep inside of her as he spilt himself into the condom she didn’t even realized he’d slipped on, but she was thankful that at least one of them was thinking clearly enough to practice some sort of safety.

After a few moments of floating in what felt like something between eternity, and death itself, Dean rolled off of her carefully, leaving her feeling empty and cold before he kissed her carefully, as if she was the most beautiful, most fragile thing he’d ever encountered. “I’ll be right back,” he told her, and slipped into the bathroom to remove the condom from himself, and to return with a warm, damp cloth to clean her up before cleaning himself.

She felt strange, whole, safe, protected. Something she’d never felt before, but more than that, she felt charished, and loved, and fuck if that wasn’t the best, most comforting feeling she’d ever felt in her life as he tucked her into his chest, and wrapped the covers around them safely. Protecting her from all the hurtful, evil things of this world.

Nothing was said, not a word was spoken. But nothing had to be either. She was content just to lay there in his arms, safe, warm, his.

“You know,” she said after a moment of pondering, her mind racing too fast for her to fall asleep. “If you want, I’d love to go and live with you, in the bunker, maybe… I don’t know, help you start your own private investigation firm. I’ve worked with Sam for years, and with lawyers… If you wanna go home, there’s nothing really holding me here. Maybe we can even get Sam to come with us. I think we all need to be together again, but I also think that home is more Kansas for you than Detroit.”

“I like that idea,” Dean said after a while. “I think he will come with us too. I think I’d like to take you home with me. Cause you’re gonna have to be the one to hold me together, cause I’m a mess.”

“I think I can handle that,” she assured him, and she really did. Sam was right. They were meant for one another, and she had no problem being his brother’s keeper. In fact, it was all she ever wanted to be again…

Sam’s POV:

Sam closed the door to his bedroom, and nearly jumped out of his skin at the trench coated figure that stood in the room, facing the window, looking outside at the snow, and for a moment, he was stunned, dumbfounded even.

“Cas?”

Cas turned to face his old friend, his shining blue eyes sparkling in the dim light that filtered the room from the street, and Sam nearly fell to the floor.

“I thought… I thought you were… You’re back?”

“I’m back,” he voiced, walking over towards his overly tall friend, “and I’m here to tell you that now that Dean has his soul mate, it’s time to get back to work, you boys, and Y/N, you got work to do…”

That’s all til next time everyone! Thanks so much for reading!!!

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232 notes · View notes

ivymyers · 1 year

Text

Problematic (Bucky x Reader)

ig I just like writing about bad things happening to y/n :,)

(There’s a part where I reference Bucky’s hands. Just know one is the metal arm, I just didn’t know how else to say it.)

I honestly don’t know what insanity made me write this but here it is.

Also, don’t expect anything from me for about a week, I’ll be on a vacation.

SOMEONE GIVE ME A REQUEST I’M BORED. (I’ll literally write almost anything)

Around 2.1k words.

Warnings: torture, injury, agnst, Hydra, mentions of death, mentions of rape, low self esteem, anxiety, nightmares (seriously, don’t read if it’s going to bother you)

—-----

You had stuck with your boyfriend Bucky for so long. When he had nightmares you always comforted him, when his panic attacks got bad you always calmed him, and when he needed to talk you were there. For the two years you had been together you both supported each other. The pair of you were inseparable, the time either of you were away on missions away from each other was actually painful.

[In the meeting room]

“Hyra base. That’s our next mission.” Tony stated. “I’m sending Sam, Clint, and y/n on this one. It’ll be just a quick in and out. You’ll be clearing the area out, it should be relatively small. We’ve done a scan of the base from above and it seems like this should be a quick trip. Sam, come in from above, we want a nice view of the action. You shouldn’t have to do too much. Clint, you will be taking shots from a distance. y/n, you will be on the ground fighting. I’m confident that you can handle a few Hydra soldiers” He winked in your direction. “Questions?”

Bucky was the first one to speak, “Yea, why is y/n the only one out there?”

“Did you not just listen? I swear Barnes you only hear when y/n’s name is mentioned. It’s a small mission and I’m sending THREE avengers. That’s more than enough.”

“Buck I can take care of myself, I'll be fine.” You chimed in.

“Y/n is one of our strongest magic users. She’s more than capable. Now that we’ve all discussed Barnes’s separation anxiety, any real questions?” Tony went on. “Great. We leave at 6:00 am tomorrow.”

[Later that night]

“Bucky- we went over this. You have too much of a tie to Hydra. I can handle this.”

“Y/n. I really think I should go with you. I know how to deal with them, I don't trust the situation. Something doesn’t sit right with me.” Bucky began to raise his hands as he does whenever he gets worked up.

“Are you saying I can’t do this?”

“Of course not it’s just-”

“I’m going to bed, Buck. I need to be up early. Don’t bother sending me off the two-day mission that I’m not capable of protecting myself on.”

“Jesus y/n. If you put it that way then maybe I won’t. I’ll see you in two-days then. You can be so…problematic.”

It was just a fight. A small one, nothing you couldn’t handle. Bucky kept his word the next morning. His last words to you sticking to your skin like dew drops to a leaf. You’d fix it when you got back, right?

Except you wouldn’t get the chance to you. There were way more soldiers than you’d anticipated. Bucky was more than right to worry. Hydra had you cornered and there was nothing you could do as they dragged you away.

San got the whole thing on camera as he was scouting from above. All the team could do was watch as one of the strongest Avengers was helplessly dragged away.

Bucky didn’t know what to do. The last words he exchanged with you were in anger. The frustration built up and began to eat at his insides. He knew Hydra better than anyone on the team. If they did anything close to you what they did to him- he didn’t want to imagine it.

Meanwhile you were taken and tied up in a metal chair in a stark white room. Your magic did not work when you tried. The whole place looked clean and was decently large for you being the only one in there. Then you remembered. Hydra.

You didn’t have any information about secret plans or missions or tech or anything to share. So when the torture began your screams echoed and there was no ammunition you had to counter you painful days and sleepless nights. No breaks, just constant hurt. All while Bucky’s words ran through your head over and over and over and over.

Problematic. That was he had seen you.

You weren’t sure how long you had been there for. But sometime into your stay things began to get even worse. They gave you minimal food and water. They began to torment your nights as well by splashing water over you while dead asleep. Waking you with beatings or weapons. But the worst of it by far was the sexual abuse. They raped you countless times as you struggled against their strength. It became too much to bear.

The room was now covered in blood. They hadn’t once cleaned an inch of the space you were in. The metallic scent was always in your noise and the crust of dried red followed your eyes to every corner. But by now you were used to the smell and your vision was blurring from malnourishment anyway.

When you weren’t concerned over when your next meal would come or when the next attack would happen, Bucky filled your mind. Did he care? Was he thinking of you? Or was he glad his problem was gone. The thought of it alone was almost worse than the torture.

You had nothing left.

But then gunshots were heard from outside your room. And through your hazy self could barely process when Bucky broke down the door. He held your barely breathing body in his hand as you struggled the most you could, which was not very hard.

“No…no, no. Stop. Let me go. Not again…” You whispered barely audible.

“Love, it’s me Bucky. I’m not going to hurt you darling.” His heart broke when hearing your cries. He knew exactly what hydra could do to a person.

He sat there with you until Sam and Tony came through and saw the two of you and told him to carry you back.

On the ride back Bucky held you in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair he was beginning to stress whether you would even make it. Your pulse was faint and you had so much blood all over you. He couldn’t tell which wounds were currently open and which ones were old. Your broken lifeless body was painful for him to look at, yet he couldn’t seem to look away.

[Back at Avengers Tower]

You opened your eyes to no blood on the walls and IVs in your arms. The room was slightly larger than the one you were in before. But something felt different about this room. The door opened and you shut your eyes tight as they went and pulled the covers that you didn’t have before up to your face.

Your breaths came short and fast and visions of what happened before shot through your memory. The pain. The humiliation. The shame. What horrors would you face now?

“Y/n you’re awake! Oh, hey, hey. It’s just me. Bruce see? You’re home.”

His voice flooded your senses and you began to calm. Wait. Did he say home? You moved the covers from your face to see the Avenger who had patched you up as best he could since you had returned. Sure enough it was a friendly face you were met with. You stared at him in return.

“You really took a beating out there y/n. Do you want me to go over your medical reports with you now or wait for Bucky to be here too so that I won’t have to repeat it.”

When you didn’t respond he knew something was really wrong. Obviously they had tortured you physically, but something was broken in your mind as well.

When you saw his reaction you plastered a smile on your face and told him to bring him in, hoping Bruce didn’t see your smile fall as he left the room. Being alone suddenly became scary, you were so used to only preparing for the next visit that all you could do was listen to your own heartbeat when Bruce left.

You didn’t hear the door open. But you felt Bucky’s strong body crash into your weak one. What you did hear was Bruce saying he’d give you some alone time.

“Bucky…”

“Oh doll…” his voice trembled as he spoke. Bucky’s hand shook as he reached out to touch your face.

You flinched at his touch and in that moment he thought of every possible type of pain Hydra could’ve put you through. His eyes glistened with tears and he saw how frail you looked.

You jumped when Bruce opened the door again. “Ready to go over the medical reports?”

You had a broken ankle, two bruised ribs, one broken rib, three broken fingers, a sprained wrist,. a dislocated leg, stab wounds, a minor concussion, and countless cuts and bruises. Not to mention a black eye.

Suddenly, Bucky inhaled, stood up and left the room.

Deep down you felt something snap. You felt a mix of emotions. Did Bucky not want you anymore? Were you really that broken?

Bruce followed Bucky and you left with your own tears. After one week in the room, Bruce and the doctors they assigned to let you go back to you and Bucky’s room as long as you came for daily checkups.

[Later that night, first night back in your room]

As soon as sleep drifted upon you the nightmares began to torture you. Memories and fear alike, this was the first time sleep became such a punishment for you.

You awoke in a scream of terror and to Bucky holding you tears streaming down both of your faces. He held you and rubbed your arms.

“I’m gong to fucking kill every last one of them y/n. You don’t deserve any of this. You hear me.” He whispered into the side of your head.

Again, something in you clicked and you stiffened up. Bucky immediately noticed and pulled away.

You both knew you weren’t going to get any sleep so the two of you stood up to cool down. Then the questions came.

“Doll, tell me what happened. You have to tell me what they did.” He was angry. Not at you, but his rage still scared you. As Bucky kept rambling, hands flying through the air, your eyes got wide and the thoughts of pain and fear came tumbling back into your head and you backed into the wall. Hand at your mouth to silence the tears, you slid down the wall. No noise came from you, yet the sound in your head drowned out everything else.

Bucky turned to face you not knowing what to do.

“Problematic” were the words that you sobbed out when he pulled you into a hug.

“Darling- I never meant those words. I love you with everything I am. How long- Jesus-” He ran his hands through his hair. “How long were you thinking of those words? The truth. Now.” He stared you down.

You looked away, “every goddamn moment.” you mumbled. “I thought of them and you every second I was in there. When I wanted hope all I had was that.”

Guilt seeped through Bucky’s mind, a million different thoughts jumbling together. But you weren’t done.

“They beat me until my bones broke and I needed stitches I never got. They almost drowned me several times. They held me at gunpoint. They told me I was worthless over and over until I believed every word of it, and I still do. They abused me until I was sick- even then didn’t stop. They locked me in a room of corpses and made me spend the night in it. They raped me so much that my skin does more than crawl. Fuck, I’ve been awake for a little over a week now and not one other person besides you and Bruce have even bothered to visit! So forgive me if I’m hurting a little.” You were screaming out your words by the end.

It broke Bucky, The thought that someone else’s hands were on you. The thoughts that they made you think. He trembled from everything you told him.

“Doll…my y/n…I regret every word that I said before you were- God I messed up. You matter more to me than anything else. Don’t ever think you’re worthless. And the rest of the Avengers, they thought it best to give you a little space. I’m so sorry Doll.”

You slammed your body against his and let your tears fall onto him. Clutching onto him, deep down you knew you'd recover with lots time, as long as Bucky was by your side.

----------

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#fanfic #x reader #requests open #requests #fandom #bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #hydra #marvel #marvel fanfics #marvel fanfication

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system-society · 1 year

Note

Hi! I have a little question about something that happened recently to me that i found weird.

I was in my co-con sala (a room for co-consciousnes where some of my dearest headmates are) and one of my friends (in-sys), Sam (who has a variety of powers, one of them being walking through walls), found there's a sort of basement below the sala, some of us went down to see but there was lots of ppl so i got overwhelmed and "pushed" them all off of that place (me and Sam bealive i made time go back to before discovering the basement) and i tried exploring it, it was really dark and i was alone, something fell down (both out-sys and in-sys) and (in-sys) i looked to what fell down, it was an old looking vase that had a note, i read it, it said "Soon return here" and it gave me anxiety and i felt really weird so i went to Bruce (my adoptive father in-sys) and he and Sam helped me sleep but i had lots of nightmares. Do you know what could've been that place? Or why did i made time go backwards? Maybe i'm developing a new power but why did that place give anxiety? And nightmares?.

I'm sorry if it's too venty but it was really weird to me and stressful :(

My guess, anon, is probably a traumaholder area. Honestly, I would not not dwell to much on it, or try and discover more without professional help. But that place sound very riddled with trauma and I would be cautious.

#herb answers

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b6cky · 3 years

Text

bucky barnes hcs

random bucky barnes headcanons

TAGLIST: @sp1deys @inu1gf

author’s notes: I TRIED SOMETBING DIFFERENT WITH THIS SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT :D ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 FOLLOWERS AAA <33

-> bucky refuses to sleep unless you have fallen asleep first.

it took bucky a while to get used to sleeping next to someone, due to his nightmares/night terrors, but after a while in therapy and living with you, bucky was more than happy to sleep next to you. he always makes sure that you fall asleep before he does, because knowing that you’re safe makes him feel safe. he also likes to watch you sleep, as creepy as it sounds, the man is just enamoured by you. sometimes he’s afraid that he’ll wake up with you gone, so seeing your chest slowly fall and rise gives him the comfort that you’re here and you’re not going anywhere.

-> he has a deep hatred for his metal arm, but seeing you touch it with care and love makes him hate it slightly less.

the first time you held his metal hand, he pulled it away from you. it was a reflex. from then on, you didn’t hold his metal hand, because you would never want him to feel uncomfortable with anything you did, but instead tried to warm him up to the idea. you did this by occasionally tracing shapes into the metal while you two would cuddle and the sensors in the arm would let bucky know where and how you were touching it. the anxiety of you touching the arm never went away, but seeing you in his arms tracing lines and shapes into the metal made his heart swell with adoration. the fact you could love the part he hated most about himself just made him love you more and he slowly let you hold his metal hand.

-> he keeps a diary and most of the pages are about you.

you had been cleaning around the house you shared with bucky one day and came across a notebook that had been neatly tucked away in a dresser under one of his many henley’s. you knew it was wrong but you read it anyways, you said to yourself you just wanted to know if bucky was doing alright, but you know that you’re just nosey and felt like snooping. what you didn’t expect was to find pages and pages talking about your little habits, things you had said to him and so much more. you tucked the book back away and when bucky got back home you made sure to show him how much you loved him. he wouldn’t have asked about it, but he knew you had seen his notebook. he didn’t mind, but made sure to leave little notes for you for when you decided to snoop again.

-> he gets jealous of his 40’s self when you find pictures of him.

when you stumbled across a bunch of his photographs from the 40’s, you were in awe of him. his charming smile, his bright youthful eyes and … just him. he came home from a day out with sam and found you on the floor of the living room looking at his photos and he smiled and sat next to you, telling you stories about the men in the photographs. it wasn’t until you kept mentioning how cute and how handsome he was in the 40’s that he got jealous.

“i’m still handsome now, y/n!” he huffed.

“yes, baby, you are just as handsome, maybe even more handsome, so stop acting like a child and give me a kiss.” you smiled at him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x gn!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x gnc!reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hc #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes hcs #bucky headcanon #bucky headcanons #bucky barnes x reader oneshot #bucky barnes x reader headcanons

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

Text

Elsa's Solo

Loki x plus size reader

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Loki serenades the object of his affections

Warnings: this is legit all fluff

WC: 2.2k

Minors DNI

It was a well-known fact that Tony Stark loved to give people nicknames. It was where his true genius lay. His go to was ‘capsicle’ purely because of the exasperated eye roll he received from Steve Rogers every time he said it. But his newest nickname was quickly becoming a favourite.

“Elsa!” Loki sighed and slumped into the chair he had perched himself on as some kind of way to avoid the billionaire. “No matter how many times you call me that, I will not understand what you are talking about.” “You really need to get with the times Reindeer Games. Why don’t you ask your girlfriend? She loves Disney.”

If Frost Giants could blush, the god’s face would’ve been as red as a Midgardian tomato. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He grumbled. “Yeah yeah but I’ve definitely seen you leaving her room in the morning. Loki and Y/N sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” Tony’s voice faded into the kitchen where Sam picked up the tune and belted it, much to Loki’s annoyance.

Loki’s crush on the newest Avenger was simultaneously the most irritating and sweetest thing ever. He practically had heart eyes every time he saw her, which was incredibly infuriating on missions where he couldn’t stop watching her plump body in the curve-hugging kevlar that made up her suit. But on the other hand, Thor had never seen his brother this soft. He had a smile on his face while they were together, the usual anger and hatred burning behind his eyes reduced to a dull flame that threatened to die at any moment.

She was the first person to defend him if something went wrong, comforted him if he had nightmares, and cooked for him. And he in turn would read to her on rainy days, help her through her anxiety, and of course train her (his ultimate goal was to get her to stab Thor as a prank). They were perfect opposites, where he was hard and sharp, she was soft and round (both literally and figuratively). Loki had fallen for her the moment she had slapped him for the attack on New York before hugging him with an apology and running away. He stood there shocked while his brother clapped him on the back. “Don’t fret brother, she is always like that.”

Another song picked up, breaking through Loki’s day dreaming. “Let it gooooooo! Let it goooo! Can’t hold it back any moooooooore!” The grating sound of the men singing was quickly getting on Loki’s nerves but before he could yell at them, another voice joined, one that was far more beautiful than anyone else’s.

Y/N was standing in the kitchen, wearing an overly large shirt probably stolen from one of the larger Avengers and tiny shorts that wrapped around her thick thighs tightly, making them pop out even more. Her eyes were shut as she sang along with the boys, hand held to her heavy chest. Even as she belted, a sound Loki absolutely loved, she was smiling brightly, e/c eyes twinkling with happiness.

As the song came to a close, she was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, leaning against Sam. “When did you guys get so fun?” She asked through the giggles. “When we make fun of Loki.” Tony answered confidently but a swift crack made him yelp. “Don’t do that!” “I get to slap you if you were being mean.”

“I wasn’t even being that mean!” He grumbled as he walked back through the living room, rubbing the back of his head. Y/N walked in behind him. “It doesn’t matter tones. You’re mean to everybody and I don’t like it.” She winked at Loki, continuing to berate the genius. “Come on! It’s just friendly teasing! You’re starting to sound like Capsicle.” “Alright, I’ll cut a deal with you. If you don’t stop teasing Loki, I’ll tell Pepper about Toronto.”

Tony’s brown eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Try me.” They glared at each other for a solid minute before a fearful look came over him. “Alright, fine. But I won’t stop the nicknames, they are the source of my power.” She thought for a second before nodding and they shook hands, Tony going off to sulk in his lab for a bit.

Y/N planted herself on the chair next to the god, still keeping a respectful distance, something she had always done so she wouldn’t make Loki uncomfortable but he craved to touch her. “So what do you want to do today?” Her smile returned as she looked at him, sending a whole torrent of butterflies flying in his stomach. “I was just going to do some reading. Unless y-you want to do something.” He cursed his almost imperceptible stutter.

She giggled and his heart stopped. “I would looove a lazy day today. Cap has been training me way too hard. Wanna watch a movie with me?” Loki gave a little nod, letting his raven hair fall in front of his face to hide the slight shy smile that came over his thin lips at the question.

“Ok! Let me get some snacks and we’ll meet in my room in about ten minutes.” “Wait wait. What happened in Toronto?” “Ok I’ll only tell you cause you’re my favourite.” Y/N bent over, lips coming close enough to his ear that he could feel her warm breath tickle his neck. “He lost an eating contest to me and had to give me his black credit card. I bought a castle, a very very expensive one.” A chuckle rumbled through his chest

Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, Loki stood outside her highly decorated door, fiddling with the hoodie and sweatpants that she had bought for him a couple weeks after he moved into the tower. “I’m a god, I shouldn’t be this nervous for a human.” Taking a deep breath and steadying his shaking hands, he opened the door to reveal the girl, laid back on her bed, thick legs completely exposed, shirt clinging perfectly to her round stomach and breasts. “Nope I was wrong. She’s perfect.” He gulped and moved forward, perching on the edge of the bed, hand spreading over the soft, flower covered duvet.

“You can get closer if you want, I don’t bite. Much.” The god shuffled back to the headboard, swinging his long legs onto the bed, his thigh almost touching hers. “So any ideas about what you wanna watch?” “Stark said something earlier that I should ask you about. What is an Elsa?” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle as he tilted his head slightly in confusion.

“Not what Loki, who. Elsa is a Disney character from a film. She has ice powers, that’s why Tony calls you that.” “Oh.” His face fell. He was never like this with anyone else, always putting on a mask for everyone but her. “Oh no it’s not bad. Elsa’s actually an awesome character. I can prove it if you want.” “Sure.”

As the next Disney movie ended (something she had called Tangled), Loki understood her obsession with these films. A happy ending, comforting characters, not to mention the love story where the couple overcomes all odds. A sudden weight on his broad shoulder startled him. Y/N was asleep, her breaths even, heart calm. The god couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at her. God she was so beautiful, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and after everything he had done, she trusted him enough to share her secrets and even sleep on him.

The moment when she sighed and snuggled closer, big, soft arm wrapping around his middle to keep him in place, the heat of her body warming him, he knew he had to tell her how he felt. He just didn’t know how.

“Stark, I need your help.” “I’m sorry, did I just have a stroke or did the great Reindeer Games ask me for help?” Tony spun around on his swivel chair, pen in his mouth, legs crossed, huge smug grin on his face. “I find myself unable to properly…” He faltered, avoiding the billionaire’s gaze, “…express myself to a certain person that I wish to be honest to.”

“Oh are you now~” He gestured to another seat by the lab bench, elbows falling to his knees so he could listen to the god, contemplating how he was going to mess with him. Loki fit himself onto the stool, long legs bending to sit comfortably. “Lemme guess, this has to do with our little miss sunshine?”

Blue-green eyes avoided his gaze. “Alright, I’ll help but only because I’m a sucker for lost causes and it would mean I win a lot of money. We’ve had a betting pool on which one of you would make the first move since you basically tripped over yourself when you saw her at the first gala you went to.” Tony waved off the obvious question. “Now, I’ve got one question for you, can you sing?”

Y/N was relaxing in the library, cuddled underneath the huge green blanket she had crocheted for Loki a few months before, as she read a book she randomly pulled off of a shelf. Snow silently drifted down outside, the city was quiet and she was content to remain here. Of course, she would love to be in her room watching movies with a certain god but he had been avoiding her for days and she was determined to find out why. So she was going to corner him in his favourite place.

Just as her eyes began to flutter shut, soothed by the scent of books and warmth, a large hand laid itself on her shoulder. “Hi there.” She muttered. Loki just smiled, palm moving up so he could cradle her jaw, thumb rubbing the apple of her cheek. “Come, I have something to show you.”

Their hands nestled against each other, his own engulfing hers as he guided her out of the room but kept the blanket wrapped around her. The halls were empty, quite unusual for a Wednesday afternoon, yet she could not bring herself to care, not when her skin prickled from Loki’s touch and he so carefully led her forward, making sure that she did not fall behind or stumble.

Her breath came out in little puffs of fog as they stepped into the winter air. The snow had stopped, leaving great mounds of ugly grey slush in its wake. Loki turned so they were standing face to face, bringing both of her hands to his lips so he could kiss the back of them, sending a shiver down her spine. “Wait here dove.”

He smirked as she looked up at him with big doe eyes, always filled with such wonder. “Trust me.” He placed one last kiss to her skin before bundling her back up in the green fabric and stepping away, inhaling the crisp air to calm his wildly beating heart.

The prince extended his arms outwards, palms facing the dark sky. Snow began to swirl once more, the winds picking up as more snow gathered. As grey slowly turned to white but her attention was captured by the god. His voice was clear through the howling winds, his words striking a cord in her heart, tears gathering in her waterline as she listened to him serenade her.

All those days, chasing down a daydream

All those years living in a blur

All that time never truly seeing

Things, the way they were

Now she’s here shining in the starlight

Now she’s here suddenly I know

If she’s here, it’s crystal clear

I’m where I’m meant to be

Loki stepped back to her, taking her trembling body into his arms, tilting her chin upwards so their eyes could meet. He wiped away her tears as he continued, the power of his voice rumbling through her chest, each word piercing her heart.

And at last I see the light

And it’s like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it’s like the sky is new

And it’s warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you

The last words had barely faded into the breeze when Y/N’s arms were thrown over his shoulders, blanket slipping off, and she brought his lips to hers in a desperate kiss, one that had been brewing for months. Loki hugged her tightly to him, large hands cupping her plump body, head tilting to deepen the embrace.

As they reluctantly broke apart, their foreheads pressed together, no more words needing to be spoken except whispered declarations of their love, being swallowed by the snow.

Bonus:

The Avengers stood on one of the balconies of the compound watching as the lovers smiled brightly in the dunes of white. “Well Tony got him to sing.” Natasha reluctantly handed over the wad of cash to the genius.

“It didn’t take too much convincing if I’m being honest. I’m just that great.” He smirked, collecting money from each of the heroes.

“Hey do you think we should break them up, I don’t want any mini Lokis running around anytime soon.” Sam pointed out the way that the two were now pulling at their clothes, even in the bitter cold. “Oi! Keep it PG!”

They threw themselves away from each other and glared up at them, Y/N showing a choice finger as she grabbed Loki and pulled him back inside.

Thor chuckled at their antics, glad his brother had finally found his princess.

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

@maevetriesart

#loki x plus size reader #female reader #plus size reader #fluff #reader insert #loki x reader #loki x y/n #platonic avengers x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki oneshot #loki x reader fluff #avengers x plus size reader #avengers fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #marvel #mcu

375 notes · View notes

purple-babygirl · 3 years

Note

request?🥺🐺 Just when you can, Maybe one with Sam and Bucky fighting/argument maybe one almost could’ve gotten killed and the other was being too reckless and scaring Little reader thinking they might break their whole relationship apart saying such things (ya know when ur angry) and She intervening but say something like “Daddy’s are talking right now!” And arguments heated and then it’s comforting telling reader they’re not going anywhere showing little that they still love each other -🐺

Pairing: SamBucky x little!f!reader

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, polyamory, yelling and a couple of curses.

Word Count: 1,950

A/N: White wolf nonnie love, even your request is cute😭 you're the best nonnie in the world and I hope you like this one🥺💜💜 I'm sorry it took me a while, love, I didn't mean to keep you waiting so long. Please enjoy xx.

misunderstanding

Aside from the laughs Sam might pull from her and Bucky, their house was mostly quiet. It was always peaceful and serene. But that wasn’t the case that night. Sam and Bucky have been arguing for a while now, their voices only growing louder, and the glares on their faces deeper. She wanted it to be over; she just wanted her calm, understanding and loving daddies back.

“Dada,” she called, her voice hushed as she tried holding Bucky’s hand. She knew she shouldn’t interfere but they wouldn’t stop.

“Daddy and papa are talking, doll. Go to your room.” Bucky took his hand out of hers, waving her away before he shouted something in reply to an equally loud Sam.

She jumped but neither man noticed before she was running to her bed, hiding herself under the covers. She could still hear their loud voices and it made her heart beat so fast. Papa and Daddy barely got so mad at each other and it frightened her little self to no extent. They were yelling and even using bad words; that was how angry they were.

“But it's okay when you do it?!!” Bucky shouted, the veins on his neck prominent.

“I can fucking fly! You were on the ground right before them, begging for them to shoot your ass!” Sam reasonably argued, a frown inhabiting his fine features as his sharp voice echoed through the house.

“Well, that didn't fucking happen so why are we even having this stupid conversation again!”

“Because you never seem to actually listen no matter how many times we have this stupid conversation!”

“That's because I know what I'm doing!” Bucky barked, his finger poking his chest.

“If you're not gonna listen maybe we shouldn't be together then!” when fighting bad guys, Sam should’ve added.

But he didn’t and it made her slowly pull her head out of her blanket, concern bubbling around her heart. Daddy wasn’t going to agree to this, was he? Papa and Daddy loved each other. They could never not be together.

“Maybe we shouldn't!” Bucky yelled back, his stare intense as he looked at a similarly livid Sam.

Her heart sank to her stomach at Daddy’s reply and tears pricked her eyes.

“Fine!” Sam threw his arms in the air, giving Bucky his back and that was Bucky's cue to leave.

He walked out of the door, noisily slamming it behind him without looking back.

“Papa.” Sam heard her choked voice behind him and knew he was going to be met with her tears when he turned around.

“Sugar, go wait in bed.” Sam sighed, fingers pressing to his closed eyes as he tried to calm down, “papa will be there in a minute.”

He needed to get it together for her. She had no hand in their fight and it wasn't fair that she gets sent to bed without a bedtime story just because Bucky thought it was a good night to practice stubbornness.

“What would you like papa to read for you tonight, baby?” Sam asked, showing her the stories they had that she knew and loved all too well.

“When’s daddy comin’ back?” she asked instead, innocently speaking Sam’s thoughts.

“Soon, baby.” Sam avoided eye contact, flipping through the books.

“How soon, papa?” she pressed.

“Just soo-”

“In ten minutes?” Her big, anxious eyes stared at Sam, wanting a satisfying answer.

“Sugar.” The man sighed, not knowing what to tell her. He was already exhausted enough and it was just becoming too much.

“An hour?”

“Baby, here, pick a story,” Sam tried again.

“'S dada comin’ back tonight?” she asked, tears swimming in her eyes.

“What? Yes, sugar. Of course he is!” Sam didn’t really know that, but it was what he was hoping would happen.

“Are you lyin’ to me, papa?” she sniveled, twiddling her thumbs.

“No, baby. Daddy’s coming ba-”

“Did daddy leave forever?”

“Suga-”

“A-Are you gonna leave me too?”

“Baby.” Sam shook his head, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder “no, sugar, no. No one is leaving.”

“You promise?” she sniffed, the back of her hand swiping under her nose.

“I promise, baby.” Sam nodded, helping her with a tissue.

“Dada’s not leavin' us?”

“No, baby. He’s not leaving. He just got a little angry with me is all. That happens sometimes.” Sam explained, putting the stories back in place. She was no longer going to require one.

“But he never left before.” She cried more.

“I know, sugar.” Sam held her to his side and rubbed her back, “but he’s coming back.” He kissed her hair.

“Can I stay up 'n wait for him?”

“No, baby, come on now. You need to go to bed in time like the good girl you are,” Sam told her gently, hugging her tighter so she’d calm down.

“Please, papa.” She held onto Sam’s hand.

“Sugar.” Sam gave her one look, supposedly stern, but she could see how drained he looked. He had no more argument in him.

“Yes, papa,” she sighed, laying on her back and letting Sam wipe her tears and tuck her in.

“Good girl, baby.” Sam gratefully kissed her forehead with half a smile, “night, sugar.”

It was at least 2 hours later and Sam was still awake. He huffed, turning on his side again, his hand reluctantly reaching for the phone on the bedside table before quickly retracting for the millionth time. Bucky was going to come back soon. There was no need for him to call and bother him. He probably left looking for some space; probably gathering his thoughts, and Sam wanted to give him that. He was worried but he would do it if it meant Bucky would have a clear mind again; if it meant he was going to come back faster-

“Papa.” She stood by the door, balled fist rubbing her eye.

“Hey, sugar.” Sam sat up and opened his arms. “What is it, baby? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, can’t sleep.” She shook her head, taking slow steps to Daddy and Papa’s bed.

“You wanna try cuddling with papa?” Sam offered and she quickly nodded.

“Come here, sugar.” Sam pulled the covers open for her so she could slip underneath with him.

She gave Sam a big hug, holding him tighter than she usually would in such a heavy-eyed state and he could instantly sense her anxiety and worry.

“You’re okay, sugar. I got you,” Sam assured her, patting her back gently before she pulled back.

She waited until Papa was comfortable on his back then moved herself on top of his chest, humming at the warmth radiating off his body and buzzing through hers.

“I’m scared dada won’t come back,” she whispered in Sam’s neck, her fingers clutching his shirt.

“He will, sugar. I promise. Daddy will be here before you wake up tomorrow,” Sam comforted her, his concerned eyes glancing at the clock again. It was way past midnight already, where on earth was Bucky?

“How do you know, papa?” her knuckles rubbed her eye again as she yawned, snuggling more into Sam.

“He loves us too much not to come back, baby.” Sam’s big hand stroked her back calmingly, “Bucky will always come back.” He whispered, more to himself than to her, before he half-heartedly let his eyes close.

“Sam, I said I was sorry!”

She quickly spitted the toothpaste and washed her mouth when she heard Daddy’s voice downstairs. He didn’t sound too happy, but at least he was back. He wasn’t there when she woke up like Papa said he would be, but this was good too. He was there and that was all that mattered.

“Sorry? Sorry?!! I was worried sick about you and that’s all you have to say?!” Sam shouted, frustrated, and Bucky scoffed.

“Worried sick, right. Is that why I have no missed calls from you?! Not one! You didn’t even care to see where the hell I stormed off to or if I was okay!” He argued, his face following Sam’s when the man turned away.

“Dada,” her voice momentarily interrupted their fight as she collided with Bucky, her arms wrapping around his middle.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted much softer, swallowing when he saw tears already gathered in her eyes.

“I thought you left papa and me forever,” she told him, hugging him even closer, pressing her forehead to his chest.

“What?” Bucky looked at Sam, panic in his eyes, and Sam gestured to her with a shrug saying ‘see what you did to us?’

Bucky exhaled, pulling her closer to him, his chin on her head, “I could never leave you, love. You’re my life,” Bucky said, his eyes on Sam’s.

Sam reluctantly broke eye contact, shaking his head and leaving the kitchen.

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing as regret enveloped him. His thumb caressed her cheek before he lifted her up, her thighs finding their way around his waist.

“Papa was really worried, stayed up all night,” she whispered to Bucky when her face was on level with his, “and- I thought you were leavin' papa,” her lips trembled as tears overwhelmed her, “and I thought you and papa were leavin' me.”

“Oh, doll, no, no,” Bucky shook his head as her tears triggered his own, “none of that is happening, love.”

“Promise?” she hiccupped.

“Promise. No one is leaving, love. Not me, not papa and definitely not you. I love you and papa too much to ever be without you, doll.” Bucky poured his heart out, unknowingly repeating Sam’s words.

She brushed the tear he let slip away, making him chuckle fondly.

“Jus’ like papa said,” she mumbled, her heart finally fully reassured, as she nuzzled Bucky’s neck, hugging him closely again.

Bucky’s feeling of regret grew even more when he caught her words.

Sam never doubted him for a second, not even when he walked out on him to rudely end a discussion he was the reason got heated. He trusted Bucky’s love for them and relied on it to bring him back sooner than later, but Bucky only kept him worried.

“I love you too, dada. Please don’t ever leave everrr again.”

“I won’t, doll. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sam-”

“I didn’t call because I thought I was giving you space. Of course I cared where you stormed off to and if you were okay; I love you,” Sam admitted, finally looking Bucky in the eyes.

Bucky could see how sad he actually was; how distressed this whole fight has left him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice dripping with sincere remorse this time, “I’m so sorry, Sam. About everything. I just- I guess I didn’t know how to react. I’m not used to people looking out for me or caring about my wellbeing-”

“Yeah, well, you better start getting used to it because I’m not planning on stopping,” Sam replied, trying his best to keep the glare in his eyes present, yet miserably failing, his eyes softening for his one and only James.

“I love you, and I’m sorry,” Bucky repeated, walking closer to where Sam stood, “I’m sorry.”

“Give your cyborg brain a break; you’re forgiven.” Sam grinned, pulling Bucky in by the waist for a sweet kiss.

“I love you so much it’s uncountable,” Bucky whispered, making Sam smile even bigger as he kissed him again.

“I love you more.”

Feeling sound again as she watched from a distance, her big smile was back to lighting up her eyes. Peace and calmness filled the air again and her heart was content. Papa and Daddy didn’t lie to her; no one was leaving. They were solid; she was safe.

~~~~

Tags: @harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen

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howdoyousleep3 · 3 years

Note

where’s that hc about bucky learning to touch 🤲

I was hoping someone would notice that tag and hit me up. Thank you, sweet pea. This one is special to me, one of many. ❤

Bucky doesn’t say much about what happened to him after the fall and before Steve was miraculously given a second chance at a life with him. Steve is thankful for that. The details he does know come from Bucky’s therapist and from files that have been scrounged up over time, ones Steve can’t stomach through, ones he hands to Natasha and asks only for the information she finds pertinent.

Steve is sure he’d die of a goddamn broken heart if he knew every detail of Bucky’s 70+ years of brainwashed torture.

What he needs to know about Bucky is constant and will never change: this is James Barnes, the one in the same Steve spent his entire life falling in love with, Steve loves him now more than ever, and he is going to live every day he’s gifted with in this life for Bucky.

There are things Steve expects after Bucky joins him and the others back at the Tower, things Bruce has helped him comprehend in such a volatile predicament.

“It could take months, years even, for him to come back to you in full. And honestly, Steve...I would be ready for the possibility of him not returning to you in full. This may not end up being the Bucky you knew and grew up with. He needs therapy, needs patience, needs reminders of his life before, of who he was and is. This won’t be easy, Steve.”

Anything for Bucky.

There are things Bucky took to right away and other things that took much longer for him to enjoy or remember. Steve is with him every step of the way.

Sleep was one thing that Steve thought would be a struggle. After only one month of sleeping on the floor in the corner of his bedroom, Steve able to hear him tossing and turning and breathing heavily through his own bedroom wall, it took one afternoon nap on the couch to make him want to move to his new bed. While nightmares continued, Bucky slept albeit in small increments and sometimes through the day, but he slept.

Steve thought that would take years.

Crowds were another story. Crowds came with trust and Bucky rightfully didn’t trust others easily. He barely trusted Steve at first. It took time to get him out of the apartment, baby steps, one step forward and two steps back. They started with walks at dawn, fewer people, gave a shot at stopping for coffee on the way home a few times.

“It’s a Venti here, Buck,” Steve had tried to explain and Bucky huffed. “Why are things so goddamn complicated now? Just want a coffee, a—”

“I know— a black coffee with too much sugar. I got it.”

They’re working on interactions with others and the anxiety that comes with crowds. That one will take time.

What hadn’t taken time, and what startled everyone in the tower beyond belief, was Bucky and affection.

Steve may not know much of what Bucky has spent most of his life enduring but he at least had the assumption that what Bucky went through shouldn’t make him want any kind of touch from another person. Steve wrongfully assumed that any sort of gentle or soft touch wasn't something Bucky would like.

Bucky had spent the past 70+ years walking this earth as a killer, a robot, a machine, an assassin. He surely spent decades thinking he wasn’t worthy of anything, let alone love. He had been touch-starved, void of the tenderness and closeness Steve knows Bucky deserved and craved underneath the brainwashed parts of him.

It took time for Bucky to remember who Steve was to him. While he had recognized him immediately, remembering him but not how, it took months for Bucky to remembered the capacity in which he did so.

And Steve waited.

And waited.

Steve was gifted with small moments along the way, on this journey of Bucky remembering both himself and who Steve was to him:

“You...you were real small once,” Bucky said, factual with no trace of a question, hands in soapy water as he handed Steve a plate to dry. Steve had merely hummed. “Yeah, was...was maybe half the size I am now. Real small.”

“Could fit both’a my hands right around your middle…”

It had been a long while since Steve blushed like that.

Bucky standing over Steve’s sleeping form, heaving chest visible by only the filtered moonlight, Steve mumbling out a, “Buck, wha—?” before Bucky whispered, “You...you’ve been inside of me.” Steve sat up.

“I have,” Steve breathed, on cautious ground, shakier when Bucky then whispered, “But you like it better when I’m inside’a you.”

When Steve had swallowed audibly, nodded his head wordlessly, Bucky had turned and left the room.

It took months of moments like those to compile together, to form the picture of what Steve once was, what he yearned to continue to be, to Bucky. All of these moments, these memories, came to a head so unpredictably during yet another movie night. Knees knocking, fingers brushing, small touches that Steve absolutely soaked in, had gotten used to, had relearned.

When a glance towards Bucky had the wind knocking its way out of Steve’s chest, the familiarity of that look a bone-deep ache—

Bucky was going to kiss him.

A look full of determination and want, lips parted, eyes a bit glassy. Steve didn't dare move, had let Bucky come to him for fear of scaring him away. The moment their lips touched was the moment Bucky started crying. It had only been a short brush of their lips but Steve barely breathed, barely moved. Bucky had pulled back with wide, wet eyes, shaky breaths. “Buck, it’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s alright, sweetheart,” are the words that easily slipped from his mouth, unable to stop them in a moment of progress that satiated his entire being.

That was the moment that changed everything. It was a startle to everyone involved. Steve had been ready to wait years, this entire life, for the moment he could touch Bucky again, could show him that physicality he knew his Buck craved. After that night on the couch it was as if the floodgates had opened—

Bucky remembered and wanted.

Regardless of where they were or what was happening, he wanted to be touching Steve: soft kisses on the cheek and lips, laying his head in Steve’s lap as he read, lacing his fingers between Steve’s during meetings, an arm wrapped around Steve’s waist between bouts of sparring. He’d trace patterns onto Steve’s thigh as he watched Steve draw, press against the line of his back while he cooked dinner.

Steve was floating on a cloud, was in heaven, never happier. It was perfection.

But what Bucky wanted, Steve couldn’t provide, couldn’t meet. Steve was only one man, couldn’t provide Bucky, whom touch had been stolen away from for decades, with everything he wanted. And that was okay, something Steve accepted, because there were other people Bucky could turn to that Steve trusted.

“I’m sure you all know why I asked you to meet with me,” Steve started, choosing a time Bucky was napping to meet with the rest of the group that either lived in or frequented the Tower. “Bucky has shown us a new side of him, has made some progress I think it’s worth discussing with everyone, since we’re all...we’ve all been affected...”

“Uhh, yeah— your Barnes-y boy has been all over me lately. I’m almost offended that everyone else is here to talk to Cap though. Thought he was just comin' onto me.”

“I have to tell you, I didn’t...I know we talked, Steve. But I’m honestly shocked at Bucky’s progress. It’s baffling.”

“I haven’t minded it. He lets me braid his hair.”

“Wait— y’all are getting touches?”

It was a group effort, supporting Bucky in this way. It was an adjustment, Bucky never prompting and questioning before touching or requesting touches— he just went for it. He was quiet still, not shy, merely observant. And just like he nudged at and leaned against Steve until his hands were on him, he did the same to others.

“I just ask that you show Bucky grace during this time. It’s a delicate situation. I need to know if you don’t want his touch or don’t wish to give him any kind of touch. I think it would be best if it came from me instead of from you in the moment.”

Natasha was who Bucky went to for scratches. Steve thinks it’s the nails. Steve also thinks Nat is Bucky’s favorite to go to for touches, even over him, but Bucky refuses to admit it.

When Bucky wants mindless touches, when he wants tickles and scratches, he goes to her. She naturally took to Bucky’s need for touches, the first occurrence one that came without hesitation. She’ll braid his hair, let him turn his head right where he wants her head scratches, naturally reaches for his back or shoulders to run her nails across when he saddles in close to her.

Thor is one of Bucky’s favorites too. Steve isn’t sure if it’s because of his strength or because of his warm and accepting demeanor but Bucky gravitates towards Thor often, mainly for neck and shoulder rubs. One, “James, my friend. You musn’t be afraid of asking for touch with me. I will always be willing to assist,” and that was all Bucky needed to feel comfortable walking over to Thor and nudging at his hands.

He puts his head on Bruce’s shoulder as soon as he can, likes sparring and playing hide and seek with Clint, enjoys putting his feet in Sam’s lap. Tony took some warming up to, but even then Bucky spent many hours in Tony’s lab, Tony guiding his hands, showing him what to do and how to work different machines, the two of them tinkering on his own arm.

Bucky kinda turns into the Tower kitty cat, wandering around quietly, napping in the sun, snacking, demanding affection from anyone he crosses paths with and trusts.

Everyone had their form of touch they shared with Bucky and Bucky absolutely blossomed under this form of support. Steve is forever grateful to be surrounded by a group of understanding individuals.

And every night when he lifts the comforter and feels the solid line of Bucky’s warm form against his side, the arm that now easily and inevitably slips around his waist, the familiar lips that always press against his temple, shoulder, and cheek, Steve is reminded this day was for Bucky and that the one they’ll wake up to will also be for him.

"I love you, Buck."

"Mhmm love you too, pal."

Steve doesn't even mind that Bucky spends his nights snoring in the crook of his neck, hot breath wafting over Steve's skin, hands grabby even as he dreams—

This is heaven.

#askK #fluffy lub #recovering bucky #found family #avengers 2012 #this is one of a million i have of these #i rarely share like...canon-ish thoughts because i assume people are going to tear them to pieces lol #but i've been sitting on this one for a while #my tense might be way outta wack here lol my bad #tower of god

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wkemeup · 4 years

Text

Eclipse

summary: When a mission leaves you empty and broken, Bucky is determined to heal the wounds that linger deeper than the cuts on the surface. pairing: bucky x reader word count: 8.4k warnings: canon level violence, hurt!reader, PTSD, dissociative episode, nightmares, a rapid switch from sweet/fluffy to pain, angst with a happy ending

An eclipse finds its home in the darkness Thriving as it suffocates the sun and shadows her light In its passage she lays in wait Waiting— for the moon to give way and grant her morning

Bucky thinks he’s found heaven when he lays with you under the cover of thin, linen sheets; the soft, white of the fabric touching over curves and edges of exposed bodies, peaks and dips, like snowcaps nestled upon the crest of mountaintops. Lying flushed with heat, hearts beating a little faster, breaths a little labored, Bucky reaches out and traces the lines of your face.

The tip of his finger brushes over your nose, slips down along your jaw, touches the sun kissed stream of light against your cheek as it seeps in through the sheet thrown over your heads. You giggle as he pulls you in for a kiss, chaste and sweet, his hand curling into the hairs at the nape of your neck and he tugs you closer. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world, the way you laugh to his lips, muffled in his kiss but still uncontained.

Hidden under sheets, shared breaths between you in your own little world, Bucky decides he will be content if he stays here forever.

“I won’t be gone long, you know,” you tell him as you press lightly on his chest, just enough to get draw his attention away from the trail of kisses along your cheekbone and down your jawline. He pouts playfully at you, but you soothe your hand along his shoulder, recognizing the shift in energy as his eyes flicker a shade of hesitancy. “I’ll can handle myself.”

“It’s not that,” he replies quietly, voice soft, barely a whisper, as his smile begins to fall. It’s subtle, but you notice.

“Then what?”

Bucky shrugs, swallowing back the anxiety that begins to pool deep into his stomach every time you leave on assignment. But he pushes out a smile, one you do not question, and he leans in to kiss the button of your nose.

“I’ll just miss you, is all.”

You grin and it lights up wide across your face. The cast of sunshine behind you as it filters in through the sheets tossed over your body drapes down like a halo, an illumination of an angel, and Bucky commits the image to memory. Stored to a safe place in the back of his mind for the dark nights alone in this room. He’ll find you those moments, even when you’re miles away.

“You’re a sap, Bucky Barnes,” you laugh, ruffling his hair as you toss the sheet up from over your faces and take in a deep breath of fresh air. It’s brighter in the room than you realized and you squint your eyes, tucking your face to the crook of Bucky’s neck to shield yourself from the sun.

“Only for you, sweetheart.” He tries to ignore the bright red flicker of the clock beside you as he crawls out from under the safety of the bedsheets, the fantasy fractured by the reminder of your impending assignment; four weeks in a classified location, entirely on your own.

A smile presses tight to his lips as you steal a glance back at him full of bright eyes and sunshine.

He does his best to swallow the anxiety though it churns like blades through his stomach.

***

Bucky paces back and forth in his room, stealing looks at his phone as it sits face up on the bedside table. He taps the screen every few seconds, as soon as it dares to fade to black, so he can see your face again; the picture of you laughing behind an ice cream bar melting down your hand. A shimmering red bow and mouse ears on the top of your head from your trip to Disney last spring. He can still smell the melted vanilla and hardened chocolate when he looks at it and he tries hard to focus on the memory, but he knows it’s an excuse to make sure he doesn’t miss your call.

Tap.

Still nothing.

You’ve been gone over a week now and though he does his best to busy himself with time spent sparring with Sam in the gym, running out along the lake behind the compound, cleaning the kitchen until the stench of bleach burns up to the floor above him, you’re still at the forefront of his mind.

He knows you’re safe. He knows that you can protect yourself and that you were capable of solo missions long before Bucky came crash-landing into your life, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying. It doesn’t stop the incessant twitching in his hands as he curls them to fists, doesn’t stop the frantic pacing and the wear he drives into the carpet, doesn’t stop the panic that skips the beat of his heart when it’s two minutes past check-in and you haven’t called.

“Stop it,” he grumbles to himself, “she’s fine. Stop worrying. She’s fine.”

Another glance back at the phone. Tap-tap on the screen until it lights up with your smile. Nothing.

Three minutes past check-in.

He has half a mind to track down Fury himself when suddenly, the phone rings.

A ringtone you’d changed early in your relationship - a synthetic, almost electric, instrumental of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You right when the music starts to pick up and the trumpets are blaring and it throws him straight into overdrive.

Bucky lunges it at, hands fumbling for the phone but it falls to the floor in his hurry. He hits his shoulder against the edge of the nightstand with a loud thump and collapses down to the carpet as the phone bounces down under the bed.

“God-fuckin’-- ugh!”

He grips tight to the phone by the chime of ‘I love you, baby!’ and quickly brings it to his ear. He’s out of breath but he stills himself, takes a moment before he says anything and he hopes his voice is calmer than the rush in his chest.

“Hi.”

You snicker on the other end of the line and he knows in an instant he’s been busted. “Thought I told you not to wait by the phone, Buck.”

“I wasn’t.” A full faced lie. He grimaces as it comes out.

“Sure, you weren’t,” you drawl, a laugh tucked sweetly into the hum of your voice.

Bucky can hear floorboards squeaking faintly through the speaker between your breaths. Old wood, the whistle of the wind in the distance; a motel built in the early sixties with poor insulation and cracking foundations. He wonders where you are or if the image of you pacing amongst faded shades of burnt orange and green curtains, of once brightly colored comforters and pealing wallpaper only exists in his imagination.

“You okay?” he asks first because he needs the confirmation. Despite hearing the even tones in your breath, the sweet laughter in your voice, he needs to hear you say it.

“Always am, honey,” you respond lightly and Bucky lets himself take in a deep breath before you add, “I miss you though. It’s awfully cold here and I could really use a super soldier to keep me warm.”

It makes him smile; the first one that pushes up into his cheeks without force since you left. God, he misses you.

“Don’t go calling Steve now, okay?” he teases, the anxiety draining from his body in gentle waves, cast out by the flow of ocean water through his bloodstream in the sound of your voice and the image of your smile as you tug your lower lip between your teeth.

“Never. I prefer my men one-armed and dangerous.”

Bucky laughs as he sinks down further onto the floor, the carpet rubbing against his tailbone though he doesn’t mind. He’s grinning, listening to the sound of your voice as you tell him about how much you’re craving popcorn and chocolate chip movie nights and he feels like you’re sitting right next to him. He can see the creases in your smile, the lines by your eyes, the faint markings of old scars on your skin. He hears your voice and it reminds him of home.

“It’s beautiful here, Buck,” you sigh and he wonders if you’re staring out a window to mountains or ocean or tundra. “I wish you could see it.”

“Where is ‘here’ again?”

You giggle and—God—it's the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, even crackled and broken through the speakers of an old satellite phone miles away. “Nice try, baby.”

The timer on his watch starts to ding and his heart clenches.

“Time’s up, huh?” you whine playfully, but he can hear the disappointment in your voice. It’s never long enough, these three minutes that Steve allows for you, but he’ll take seconds if he can get them. Just long enough to calm his nerves, to give you the motivation to keep going on your own, without the possibility of the call being traced.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs, clenching at his hand. He brushes closed knuckles against his forehead, presses deep into his temples because he can already feel the pit in his stomach forming again. “Stay safe, alright? Come home to me.”

He pictures your smile, the soft edges and the curve of your lips.

“Always do, don’t I?”

You do. He knows this.

But his mind is cruel and it wonders when the day will come when you won’t.

***

“I’ll raise a Kit-Kat,” Bucky concedes nearly two weeks later with a tired huff, tossing a chocolate bar to the center of the table to accompany a handful of M&M’s and mini-Twix. It knocks over Natasha’s carefully constructed tower of Milkyways and she shoots him a warning glare.

To his right, Sam snickers under his breath, a laugh too confident for a man with a dwindling stash of chocolate in front of him to the mountain sitting beside Natasha. He hides his face behind the fan of cards, but Bucky can still see the crease in his brow, the pinch of lines together at the center that tell him Sam is bluffing. Natasha is as stone cold as he would expect and he has no interest in challenging her resolve, so he decides to weed out Wilson first.

“When’s your girl getting back, Barnes? Think you might need her around to console you after I obliterate your snack drawer,” Sam taunts, changing the subject abruptly. Another tell of his.

“End of the week, I think,” Bucky replies with a shrug, playing it off casually because he knows Sam is trying to throw him off his game.

“As if you aren't counting down the seconds.” Natasha scoffs, a smirk pushing at pursed lips.

“You're an absolute goner for her, you know that don’t you?” Sam says as he pushes a few more M&M’s to the center. Brightly colored pile at the center and he plops one from his own stash into his mouth.

Bucky, meanwhile, chews on the inside of his cheek, avoiding Sam’s wandering eyes because he knows it’s true. You’ve only been together a little under a year, but he’s spent twice that loving you from a careful distance, just out of fingertip’s reach until he’d come back from a mission with one too many bullet wounds in his body and he couldn’t take the tension between you anymore.

He could still picture the smile on your face as he told you, the way your eyes lit up and you jumped into his arms; IV drips and wires to machines and all. The press of warm lips to his cheek, his temples, his nose, his mouth. Sun streaming in through the window and casting a halo behind your hair.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Atta boy.” Sam nudges Bucky’s arm, grinning wildly.

They turn to Natasha as she nods in approval before setting her cards down on the table with the kind of look in her eyes that tells Bucky the game was over before it even began. Royal Flush.

“Not again!” Sam whines, slumping down into his chair.

“It’s starting to feel cruel playing with the two of you.” Natasha reaches into the center and gathers the mountain of chocolate to drag it towards her towering pile. She starts to unravel a mini-Twix, keeping a taunting eye on Sam as he glares back at her. The chocolate passes behind parted lips and she bites down with a contented hum.

Sam rolls his eyes. “You owe us drinks, ma’am.” He gestures to his empty glass.

Natasha smirks, conceding easily as she stands to grab their glasses. She turns to Bucky. “You want a refill, Barnes?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”

As Natasha makes her way back to the kitchen, Sam sneaks a few M&M’s from her pile and quickly plops them into his mouth with a cautious glance over his shoulder. Bucky begins to shuffle the cards and he can feel the burn of Sam’s stare even before he opens his mouth.

“What do you want, Wilson?”

“When’s Y/n coming back? For real.”

Bucky glances up. Sam’s arms are stretched out along the backs of the empty chairs beside him. He’s relaxed into his position, chewing on the stolen chocolates as he raises an eyebrow.

“End of the week... like I said.”

Sam leans in closer. “That a question?”

“No,” Bucky retorts shortly, though Sam clearly isn’t buying it. He exhales a tense breath as he bridges the deck. “She’s supposed to call tonight. Longest stretch without a checkpoint since she left.”

Sam nods. “What about the three minute calls?”

“Last one was four days ago. Same day she checked in with Fury.”

“You worried?”

Bucky slices the deck. Shuffles it for the fifth time. Bridge. Repeat. “Course not. I’m sure she’s fine. I’m not worried at all.”

“You sure?” Sam chuckles, leaning back into his chair with another quick grab of a few stray green M&M’s.

“Fuck off, Wilson.”

That gets Sam laughing. He reaches across the table and snatches the cards out of Bucky’s hands before he can shuffle for a seventh time. He flashes Bucky a smile, dimples into his cheeks and all.

“I’m dealing this round.”

Bucky nods, letting the tension slip easily from his muscles. He pushes out a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

But then, a glass shatters behind him and Bucky jolts up to his feet.

“Nat? Are you--”

He freezes in an instant, tension burning through him like marble; the full force of a train straight to his chest and knocking the wind from his body, fracturing the stone to pieces around him.

Natasha stands just a few paces ahead of him, her hands clasped at her mouth in an array of shock and horror, glass shattered at her feet. Ice along wooden floors and the smell of vodka burning into the air.

Bucky almost doesn’t recognize you. There’s a slump in your shoulders, a far off look in your eye like you can’t quite focus on what’s in front of you, and a knife in your hand that won’t stop shaking.

But that’s not the worst of it.

You’re covered in blood. Deep red seeping into your hair, sticking thick and wet to your face and down your neck; trails of it along your cheeks like raindrops against a windowpane. It soaks into what remains of your suit, ripped and torn, exposed skin stained with grim and dirt. You look like something out of a horror movie.

“Oh God,” Sam mutters out, pulling Bucky from his trance.

He wants to sprint, wants to scream for help and sound every alarm he can find, but instead, Bucky only manages broken exhale as he slowly walks towards you. He moves with cautious steps, a hand out towards you defensively, like he’s approaching a frightened animal. It’s what you used to do when the line between him and the Soldier blurred, how you’d seek him out amongst the trauma and distortion and bring him back home.

“Y/n?” he calls gently and finds his voice rough in his throat.

You don’t respond, don’t even look at him as he stands within a foot of your reach. Nat and Sam are close behind, but they hold their distance.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” Bucky asks as evenly as he can manage, eyes glancing down over your body in search of injuries. There’s too much blood and he doesn’t know how much of it is your own. He wants to tug you into his arms, tell you that he’s got you, that you’re safe now, but for the first time since Shuri removed the triggers from his head, he’s afraid to touch you.

Your lips part, a few short blinks of your lashes, and you mumble out, “I came to find you.”

Your voice doesn’t sound like your own. It’s too flat, too void of emotion, and it rips Bucky right to his core. It’s a defense mechanism, he knows that. You’re still in there somewhere, he just needs to get you through this first.

“That’s good, sweetheart,” he tells you, trying his luck as he sets a hand on your back. You don’t flinch, but you don’t lean into him either. He shares a worried glance with Sam and Natasha before he turns back to you, pushing out a smile. “You did good.”

“How did she get all the way here from the Hanger without anyone stopping her?” Sam questions, eyes trailing over the mess of blood in your wake, footprints following you from the staircase by the elevator.

“She’s covered in blood and God knows what else,” Natasha whispers back. “They were probably afraid of what might happen if they did.”

Bucky can’t tear his eyes away from you, vision tunneling on the mess of blood rooted in your hair and the stains of red on your face, your chest, your hands. Natasha and Sam’s voices become muffled beside him as he slides his hand down your back and gently lays it over your grip, still shaking as you hold onto the heel of the knife as if your fist had molded to stone around it. The tremors stop as he holds your hand.

“It’s okay, honey,” he whispers, impossibly soft that not even Nat or Sam hear him, “I need you to give me the knife, alright? You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

It takes a moment, but your grip on the knife slacks. It falls to Bucky’s palm and he gently guides it out of your reach and hands it over to Natasha. He doesn’t know what happened, but he knows what you’ve done for him when the Soldier has taken over his mind, when he didn’t feel like himself and needed reminded who he was, where the ground was solid under his feet.

He knows what he needs to do.

“Nat,” he starts, but she’s already a step ahead of him.

“I’ll go find Steve,” she says, like she can read his mind. “I’ll tell him what happened, see what he knows about her assignment that would have led to this.”

Bucky swallows back the bile in his throat and he nods. “Sam--”

“I’ll sweep the jet, see what I can find,” Sam replies quickly. He sets a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, gives it a slight squeeze, and pushed out a tight-lipped smile. He was your friend long before he was Bucky's. The determination reads in his eyes.

"Thank you,” Bucky whispers.

Sam and Natasha disappear down the hallway and then, Bucky is left alone with you. He’s suddenly made aware of how harsh your breathing sounds, like you’re gasping in air through a straw. You stare beyond his shoulders, though he can tell you’re not looking at anything at all. You’re existing. It’s all your mind can cope with.

“Love?” Bucky calls, willing his voice stronger than it is. “Can you come with me?”

You don’t respond. Bucky clenches his jaw and tries again.

“I’m going to take you to our room, alright?”

He thinks it’s better not to present you with choices. It never worked well with him when he got this like; too much stimulation. He knows you’ll resist him if you need to. He slips his hand along your back to guide you towards the bedroom and you take a step as he does.

You’re limping, he notices, as you cross the threshold into the bedroom. He tries to push his mind away from what caused such an injury, what could have possibly happened to result in the amount of blood drenched over you.

That’s Sam and Natasha’s job. Bucky’s only concern is you right now, in this moment, bringing you home, making you feel safe. He guides you to the bathroom.

“I’m going to start the water, okay?” Bucky tells you. You used to do the same for him, telling him what you were doing step by step in an effort to orient him. It grounded him back to his reality, brought him down from the plane of existence above his own head.

The room starts to fill with steam, enough to fog the mirrors, and Bucky tugs his shirt over his head. He removes his sweatpants, but he resolves to leave his boxers on.

“Sweetheart?”

You look in his direction and Bucky can’t help the wash of relief as it floods through him. You don’t smile and it’s almost as if you’re looking straight through him, but it’s something. Progress.

He extends a hand to you, waiting patiently. Though you do not take it, you step a take closer to him, then past him as you walk into the shower fully clothed in your tattered suit. Bucky steps in behind and closes the glass door.

There’s enough room inside that he can stand comfortably behind you as you approach the stream of water. You stare at it for a moment before you reach out and let the water fall over your hand. You watch as the water around the drain begins to turn a dark red.

“I’m going to wash this off. Is that okay, honey?” Bucky reaches steadily for the loofa behind you, though he pauses as he feels the texture of the sponge: exfoliating mesh. It’ll be too much for you in this state. He resolves for the body wash squeezed into his empty palm.

“You let me know if you need a break.”

Still, there’s no response.

Bucky pushes back the burning lump in his throat and gingerly reaches towards you. He places a soap lathered palm against your shoulder and finds your muscles so tense they could have been made of steel or the vibranium seared into his own arm. You stare at his chest as if you could see through to his heart, maybe beyond that to the shower wall behind him, as he begins to peel the dried blood and grim from your skin.

The water at his feet becomes muddied and red, the water slipping down your legs tainted by the aftermath of violence laid upon your body. He’s careful to only use his flesh hand as he washes you, something softer and kinder than the harsh touch of metal.

You start to relax the more he works, your rigid stance easing as the blood cleans from your body. Your suit is still plastered to your skin, ripped and torn and cut open, and Bucky knows he needs to get this off of you. There’s blood behind the fabric, seeped behind the open slashes.

He thinks of the softest clothes he has to dress you in when you’re clean and dry, something too big for your frame that smelled of fresh laundry or maybe the sweatshirt draped over the chair – the one you liked to wear when he was out on missions because it smelled like him. He just wants you to feel safe, to feel warm and protected.

But he needs to get you out of this suit first.

He reaches for the zipper at your chest and the next thing he knows, he’s pressed up against the shower wall, his head pulsing at the impact as you grip tight to his wrist. You’re panting, eyes unfocused at the center of his chest.

He lets you hold him there. He doesn’t try to resist though he knows with his strength he could easily overpower you.

“Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Bucky,” he tries, his voice soft against the fall of water behind you. “I’m not going to hurt you, love.”

You don’t move, but your breaths start to come in a little more even. Your grip falters on his wrist though you don’t let go. His heart feels like it’s shattering inside his chest, stray shards embedding themselves into his stomach, his ribs, his lungs.

“Honey, look at me,” he pleads. “You’re safe now. You’re home. Let me take care of you.”

It takes a moment, but your eyes begin to trail up his collarbone, hesitant sweeps along his neck, his jaw, and then – his eyes. The hard resolve upon your features begins to crumble. Your lip quivers, your hand gripped tight around his wrist slacking in the tremors, tears burn into your eyes and Bucky doesn’t waste a moment before he gathers you into his arms, presses you tight to his chest and encases you against him.

It's like something finally clicks, a floodgate burst open, because you’re clutching onto him like a lifeline. He can feel the sob as it travels up your spine and shakes your body as you cry. He’s grateful for the mist of the shower that hide his own tears as he rubs gentle circles along your back, easing you the best he can. It’s torture seeing you like this and feeling so powerless to help.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there with you, but eventually, you stop crying. The exhaustion begins to take hold and your legs begin to shake under you, too weak to hold yourself up.

“I’m going to take your suit off, okay? You’ll be more comfortable without it,” Bucky says, gesturing to the zipper. You follow his gaze in understanding and then, you nod.

The suit already clings tight to your skin without the added pressure of the sticky residue of blood drenched into the fabric and the soak of water from the shower. He slides the zipper down to your navel and slowly peels what's left of the sleeves off your shoulders.

There’s cuts and slashes underneath, wounds where blades had cut through your suit and nicked your skin. They’re superficial, better than they could have been if not for the suit taking the brunt of the attack, but they’re still painful to look at.

Bucky helps you step out of the suit and he leaves it in the corner of the shower. He glances at your underwear and you slide it down your hips without question.

“Can I wash your hair, honey? Please?”

You nod and Bucky works quickly. You’re starting to shiver as the water loses its heat, so you stand a little closer to him, seeking out his warmth. It removes just an ounce of the boulder sitting upon his chest.

When he’s finished, the water at the drain is clear again. The fresh scars upon your body and the distant look in your eye the only evidence remaining of what happened.

Bucky reaches around you to turn off the water. He pulls a towel from the rack and begins to gently pat it over your skin until you’re dry. Then, he scrunches out as much of the water as he can from your hair, before he leaves the towel resting on your shoulders to soak up the rest.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells you as he finished drying himself off. “I’m going to go grab some clothes for you.”

He doesn’t even make it a step out of the bathroom before your hand is on his wrist again. He stills, looking back at you. Your eyes fall to the floor.

Bucky swallows back the burn in his throat as he nods. “Okay. Okay, honey. Can you come with me?”

You nod.

By the time you’re dressed in a fresh pair of his boxers and the t-shirt he slept in the previous night, you can hardly keep your eyes open. He wonders how long it’s been since you slept, if maybe it was since the evening he spoke to you four days prior. You sway on your feet as Bucky guides you to the bed.

He lays you down, pulls the covers up to your chest and quickly rushes around to the other side of the bed to crawl in beside you. You come into his arms, curling up against his chest, and Bucky tries to pretend for a moment that this is just another night, that you just returned from a successful mission and there’s a relief in holding you again.

But he can’t shake the crippling dread as it burns into his skin. Even as your breaths fall even and you slack into his arms, Bucky stares up at the ceiling, eyes brimming with tears. He doesn’t sleep at all.

***

A few hours later, the soft tap of a knock draws Bucky from his trance. He blinks a few times, realizing how long he’d been staring up at the ceiling before he lifts his head and finds Steve peering in through the doorway. There’s a solemn look on his face as his eyes flicker towards you.

Bucky gently slides out from under you, careful to place a pillow under your arm where you’d been laying upon his chest as not to wake you. The bed rises a little as he stands and he takes a moment to brush the hair from your eyes before he makes his way to the door. When he meets Steve in the hallway, he’s careful to leave the door to the bedroom open a crack, just in case.

“What did you find?” Bucky asks.

Steve sinks down onto the couch. A hand brushes over his face.

“That bad?” Bucky can already feel the nausea beginning to take hold.

“We recovered footage from her last know whereabouts – the safe house in Juno,” Steve says. He leans forward to rest his elbows upon his thighs, staring out into the empty space of the kitchen. He sighs. “She was ambushed, Buck. The feed cut out a few minutes into the fight.”

“Who were they?” Bucky chokes out. His throat is made of sandpaper.

“We don’t know,” Steve admits, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Mercenaries, probably. Could have been hired in retaliation against SHEILD. Her mission was to identify the point of contact for an illegal arms distributor that was shipping assault rifles into Canada and carrying them over the border. She wasn’t supposed to see any action, Bucky. It was a surveillance op.”

Bucky doesn’t realize how tight his hands are clenched until he looks down to find puncture marks in the palm of his right hand from where his nails buried into his skin. He thinks of the woman who left him behind that morning, with sun kissed skin and a smile so sweet it made his heart melt, who has barely spoken in the hours since returning home, who’s bright eyes have dimmed into something empty and lost.

He’s missing something, he’s sure of it. Maybe if he could just see the footage for himself, identify the bad guys, track them down... maybe he’ll be able to fix this. He could bring you back, make you smile again. Killing those men who hurt you will be a small consolation prize for his efforts.

Bucky is determined as he stands. “I want to see it.”

“Absolutely not,” Steve shoots back. Bucky doesn’t even need to clarify before Steve puts an end to it. “What purpose will that serve, Buck? You don’t need to see the tape, okay? Just trust me on this. I’ve got everyone we have analyzing that video frame by frame. If there’s anything on it to lead us to those assholes, we’ll find it.”

“I have to do something, Steve. I can’t just sit here. Not with her like that...” Bucky glances back at the door to the bedroom. He can’t muster the energy to conjure the image of you standing before him drenched in blood that was not your own, a vacant look in your eyes as if you could see straight through him.

“She needs you here,” Steve argues, rising to his feet. “What do you think will happen when she wakes up and I’ve gotta tell her you’ve run off on some vengeance mission? That you’ve left her alone to face this by herself?”

“That’s not what I’m doing—”

“Yes, it is!” Steve clenches his jaw as his voice echoes into the hall. It’s quiet for a moment and they listen for the bed to squeak, for any sign that you’re awake, but they’re only met with silence, Steve relaxes again. He takes a step forward and places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. It startles him for a moment, but he can feel the tension as it melts in his muscles. “Just be here for her, man. When there’s something to know, I’ll tell you.”

Bucky keeps his stare on the thin crack in the door, the moonlight peering in from the window and seeping out into the hallway. He listens for the even breaths as you sleep soundly for the first time in days and he knows Steve is right. He doesn’t know if he could leave you like this even if Steve handed him the direct files of every man who laid a hand on you.

“I should get back to her,” Bucky resolves, offering Steve as much of a grateful smile as he can manage. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Steve understands.

***

It takes days before Bucky can get you to leave the bedroom. He’s only been able to get a few words out of you here and there, short answers to direct questions, and you can’t hold his eye for very long, but he takes it as improvement.

It’s the small steps.

He remembers you saying that when he was at his worst, when he could barely get himself out of bed, when he could hardly touch you without fear of breaking you in half, when the guilt tore and ate through him unchallenged.

So, every time you lift you head when he speaks, when you glance in his direction, when you nod in answer of a question, when you curl against his side and seek out his warmth – it matters. It’s more than what you were able to do the day before and that has meaning.

When you finally do venture out into the living room, Bucky is sure to keep a hand on you at all times. Whether it’s wrapped up tightly in your own, pressed gently to the small of your back, resting against your thigh, over your shoulders – it helps to ground you, remind you that he’s there. You start to drift off into yourself otherwise.

Meanwhile, everyone else is walking on eggshells around you.

Tony turns out of the room before he can even step foot into the kitchen when he sees the back of your head over the couch. Peter is constantly shoveling food into his mouth to keep from his usual rambling one-sided conversations. Steve is deceptively quiet, constantly glancing in your direction as if he’s just waiting for something to set you off. Even Natasha keeps her distance, which surprises him. She stays in the room but she keeps to the corners, observing, like Steve.

Sam, on the other hand, was never one for subtleties.

“Hey kiddo!” Sam throws himself onto the couch beside you, bowl of popcorn in his hand as it jumps up into the air before landing back safely in the bowl.

You flinch at the sudden intrusion next you and Bucky all but stares daggers into Sam for startling you. Bucky was trying to keep your environment as calm as possible as not to set you off into one of those dissociative states again. It could take hours just to get you to acknowledge his voice after that and Bucky can only take that so many times before he’ll simply crumble.

“You know what I’ve been dying to watch?” Sam says aloud, as if someone is listening to him. He shovels a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

“Sam, no.” Bucky warns as he pulls you closer to his side. That movie has far too much violence, even for an eighties film. He doesn’t know how you’ll react to it.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sam shoots back. He settles into the couch beside you, grinning as he turns in your direction. “Come on, Y/n. It’s been ages since we’ve watched Indie. I know the first is your favorite anyway.”

Bucky is all but ready to clock Sam ten ways to Sunday when you mutter out a quiet, “okay” and Bucky stills completely. It's the first time you’ve even acknowledged anyone besides Bucky since you came home. He stares at Sam with wide eyes, but Sam doesn’t seem to be surprised at all.

Instead, Sam simply sinks into the cushions, turns on the movie he must have already lined up in the queue, and leans the bowl of popcorn in your direction.

Indiana Jones starts his first trek into the cave in search of the Golden Idol and you reach your hand into the bowl. A few bites of popcorn within the first minutes of the movie and it’s more than Bucky has been able to get you to eat without coercion in days. A whisper of a smile crosses your face as Sam almost chokes on the handful he shoved into his mouth.

Sam Wilson might be a massive pain in Bucky’s ass, but he’s a damn good friend. He’s the only one who hasn’t treated you like you’ve lost your mind. He gives you a sense of normalcy when the floor has been pulled out from under you.

For that, Bucky owes him everything.

***

Bucky finds out a week later that there are no bad guys to track down, no one to enact vengeance on for the trauma they’d put you through. There is a reason you came home covered in blood and grime with barely more than a few superficial scratches on your body.

You’d killed them all.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks Steve, hands planted firmly on the conference table. The night sky is littered in cloud covered stars beyond the windows, crickets chirping in the distance. Bucky stares down at the mug shots of a dozen men now presumed dead.

“We’re sure.” Steve slowly reaches out to gather the images, sliding them back into the file and out of sight. “We’re still working on who sent them but it was probably the arms dealer she was sent to identify. Fury’s sending out a team in the morning to bring him in.”

“That’s... that’s good.” Bucky doesn’t have the strength for revenge anymore. He’s grown tired of carrying it in his chest, on his shoulders, weighing him down as if sinking him to the trenches of an ocean.

“How’s she doing?” Steve asks, gesturing towards the doorway as they begin to walk back to the elevator.

“Better,” Bucky replies honestly.

He’s even seen you crack a smile a few times watching movies with Sam in the living room, maybe even heard a breath of laughter when Sam dropped an entire bowl of popcorn and threw a fit about it.

You’re talking to Bucky more, asking questions, starting brief conversations outside of the necessary ‘yes’ and ‘no’s, humming to yourself as you shower with Bucky standing just a few feet away. It’s something. Small steps.

“She’s strong, Buck. She’ll get through this.”

Bucky takes a deep breath as the elevator doors chime open. He presses the button for his floor. “I know. I just hate seeing her like this in the meantime.” The elevator reaches his floor and he waits as the doors begin to part. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Steve nods. “You got it, brother.”

Bucky makes his way down the hall from where he’d left you just a few hours earlier. You’d insisted that you’d be alright on your own while he met with Steve. Sam is still sitting on the couch watching Netflix just a few feet outside the bedroom, leaving a blanket of security in Bucky’s absence. He can hear Sam singing along to the theme song as he passes by.

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face as he approaches the living room, but a sudden, gut wrenching scream stills him in his tracks.

Sam jumps up from the couch, popcorn spilling to the carpet and Bucky stares back at the cracked door to the bedroom with wide eyes. He exchanges a glance with Sam and as another scream echoes out into the hall in a broken cry, the two of them rush into the room.

Bucky shoulders his way through the door, breaking the hinges on the top of the frame as he stumbles his way inside. You’re lying on your stomach, arms clutched under the pillow, sweat dampened sheets kicked off down by your feet. You’re whimpering, tear tracks into the pillowcase and your whole body is trembling.

“Y/n?” Bucky calls as gently as he can, his voice breaking in the effort. He moves closer to the bed, his hand hovering over your shoulder, almost afraid to touch you. “Sweetheart, wake up.”

You cry out again, face contorting in pain as you press your face into the pillow.

“I should get Cho,” Sam says behind him, starting to inch towards the door, but Bucky barely hears him as he runs into the hallway.

“Come on, honey,” Bucky tries again. He sinks down to his knees beside the bed. His heart is stammering in his chest. It’s pounding so loudly he’s sure the whole compound can hear it. He feels the tears burn in his eyes as you start to sob. “You’re safe. You’re alright, love. I’m here with you. I’m here, baby.”

Bucky lets his hand ghost over your shoulder and he barely has a chance to react before you jolt upright and there’s a sudden, stinging sensation across his chest. Your eyes are wide, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. It takes a minute before Bucky sees the hilt of the knife gripped tight in your fist.

“Bucky?” you gasp. “What are you—Oh my God...”

The knife drops from your hold as your hands clasp against your mouth. It falls at Bucky’s knees. You’re trying to stifle a sob as it threatens to consume you whole and Bucky tries to reach out for you, but you scramble away from him, fearful eyes staring below his collarbone.

Slowly, Bucky follows your gaze to his chest. There he finds that his shirt is torn in a long, pristine cut. Blood begins to soak into the light grey of the fabric from the open wound underneath. The knife you’d held in your hand bares his blood upon the blade.

“What have I done?!” you cry, shaking your head as you scurry off of the bed and into the corner of the room. You sink to the floor and Bucky shakes himself of his stupor to rush towards you.

“I’m alright,” he tries to reassure you, though he knows it’s no use. “Baby, I’m fine. It’s nothing. It’ll heal in a few hours. I’m okay.”

“Oh God, Oh God! No... I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to--” Your words are barely distinguishable, slurring together in your slobs, and you can barely catch your breath. You shake your head, fresh tears streaming on your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m-- I’m so s-sorry. I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Bucky coos. He can feel the itch of a tear as it passes his jawline. “Honey, I need you to breathe for me. Please, let me hold you. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

But your eyes are glued to the open sliver of his t-shirt, the blood as it soaks into the cotton, and the slash underneath. It only makes you cry more. Its uncontrollable, like you might pass out if you can’t allow yourself to take in enough air, and Bucky feels like he’s reaching out into a fucking void because there’s nothing he can do for you.

“Sergeant Barnes,” a stern voice calls suddenly from behind him. Helen Cho stands in the doorway with Sam just beyond her shoulder. She steps into the room, uncapping a syringe. “Hold her down.”

You’re in hysterics as Bucky pulls you into his arms. You don’t resist as you fall against his chest, but he can feel the unease with which you sit in your own body, like your skin is crawling and you’re caged inside of yourself. He knows the feeling well.

You barely notice as the needle punctures your neck, heavy head falling to rest against Bucky’s shoulder. He eases his left hand down your spine, hoping the chill of the metal will help soothe you as your breaths become more even and the sobs fall weak and far between.

“I’ve got you, honey,” he whispers. You start to close your eyes, giving into the sedative. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Just rest, love. I’ve got you.”

No one relaxes until it’s clear you’re out cold. Sam lets out a heavy sigh from the doorway, slumping into the arch. Helen sinks onto the floor beside Bucky, tossing the syringe into the disposal bag before she rubs a tired hand over her face.

Bucky feels like he can hardly breathe. He waits until Helen and Sam retire to their own rooms before he allows the lump in his throat to consume him whole, before the tears on his face mirror the watermarked stains on his shirt. He doesn’t move from the floor until sunrise, unwilling to disturb your sleep.

***

“I don’t know why you haven’t left me yet.”

The words pass your lips and they puncture straight through Bucky’s chest - like a knife embedded through his skin, nicking over bone and tearing through flesh. He feels sick, a wave of nausea crashing through him as he turns to look at you.

Your eyes are swollen red, lips chewed raw. It only takes a flicker of your gaze to the long faded pink scar across his chest to know what’s on your mind.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky says firmly.

You shake your head, unconvinced. “I could have killed you.”

“Don’t you go underestimating me, now,” Bucky teases, lighting his voice despite the burning ache he feels in his chest. He smiles at you but you can hardly meet his eye.

Your legs are swung over the bedside, hands wringing in your lap, reddening the skin. Your breaths are shaken, lower lip trembling, and he knows you’re trying to hold back tears. He can practically feel the lump building in your throat, suffocating you.

He sighs, sinking down to his knees in front of you. His hands reach out for your own and you flinch at his touch. It takes a moment before you can remind yourself who’s hands are holding you, who’s love you’re surrounded in, and you relax.

He thinks of the woman who taught him how to love again, who woke him from a decades long nightmare with the sweet touch of her hand and the adoration in her smile. He conjures the image of you he preserved before you left on your last mission, with sun kissed skin and laughter in your chest, as he stares up at the dark circles under your eyes, the frown upon your lips, the aching claws of shame draining you of the light you possessed.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He tips a finger under your chin and guides you to meet his eye. He smiles, softening under your gaze.

“You hold so much space in your heart for compassion and forgiveness,” Bucky eased, stroking his thumbs gently along the backs of your hands. “You never hesitated once to absolve me of my sins as the Winter Soldier. It didn’t matter how may nights I woke up empty, not knowing where or who I was. It didn’t matter how much I thought I was a burden to you and the team, or whether I deemed myself worthy enough to be loved by you. You were patient with me, kind beyond what I ever believed I could deserve. Can you not reserve some of that for yourself, too?”

He watches the sob creep up your spine before it breaks. There’s little more either of you can say and he resides to holding you in his arms, caged protectively against his chest where not even the demons lurking in the back of your mind can find you.

He knows, eventually, you’ll be okay. You taught him that. Even when the tunnel was its darkest, when he could barely see beyond the tips of his fingers, and the sun was cast over in shadows -- you showed him that as long as he kept walking, he’d find the light again.

***

“Come on, Y/n, what is the matter with you?”

Bucky hears you grumbling to yourself in the kitchen. He wipes the trail of sweat off his face from his morning run as he approaches the island covered in stray dollops of pancake batter, bottles of maple syrup, and mixing bowls. He smiles as he leans against the counter, waiting for you to notice him.

“You weren’t supposed to be home yet,” you groan, catching Bucky out of the corner of your eye as you dump a plate full of burnt pancakes into the sink. Your hair a little out of sorts, a bead of sweat dripping down your temple. It’s almost endearing if it wasn’t for how fast your heart was beating. Bucky could hear it down the hall.

“Missed you.” He shrugs casually, testing a smirk and you started to smile in return; all shy and sweet and full of the woman he adores. He glances to the mess in the kitchen and the smoke piling on the ceiling. “What happened here?”

“Pancakes aren’t my strongest suit.”

Bucky laughs at that. “I can see that.”

You sigh, scratching at the back of your neck. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, Bucky.”

Bucky can feel his heart sinking but he holds the smile to his face. “You do a thousand nice things for me all the time. Just being here is enough for me, sweetheart.”

“You know what I mean,” you say under your breath, eyes falling to the floor by his feet. “After everything I put you through since that awful mission-”

“Hey, hey -- Don’t do that.” Bucky crosses the kitchen and places his hands gingerly on your cheeks, guiding your eyes back to his. “You didn’t do anything wrong; you hear me? You survived. You’re still surviving and I’m just... I’m so proud of you, Y/n.”

You part your lips to say more, to argue against him, but it dies on your tongue as Bucky smiles at you as if you hung the moon and the stars and every damn

“You don’t need to bring me coffee in the morning,” Bucky says before he presses a kiss to your forehead, “or bribe Stark into making new tech for my arm,” then a kiss to your nose, “or make me burnt pancakes to thank me for loving you through this.”

He pauses as he pulls back. You’re watching him with an expression somewhere between awe and relief, but it’s the warmth of your smile that does him in completely.

“We take care of each other, okay? That’s what we do,” Bucky says, leaning in to kiss your lips sweetly until he can feel the smile grow against his mouth. He pulls back, chuckling a bit under his breath. “Besides, I’m the last person who is going to be scared away by trauma.”

You laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer to his chest. Engulfed in the sweet smell of maple and butter and batter, Bucky feels a wash of calm for the first time since you left on that mission.

He thinks you may have finally found your way home.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n

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onceuponastory · 1 year

Text

trust your gut - the winter soldier x reader

Part 3 of my Ghost Story AU - Read the previous part here

Plot: Avengers HQ is the safest place for Y/N and Bucky to be... right? Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of violence/abuse, trauma, nightmares, pain, torture, brainwashing, weapons, and everything Bucky did as the Winter Soldier, and had done to him by HYDRA. Please use your own discretion. As always if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: Part three, let’s go! Sorry it took me a while, but I hope you like it. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

They take Y/N to her new safe house that night. Or rather, her safe apartment. She takes a few minutes to walk around, letting everything: her new home, Bucky, Steve, Sam… sink in. The small and basic apartment has only the essentials she needs after her life was turned upside down. Of course, she knows she can’t really expect them to provide her with more than the basics… but it’s just so empty. Devoid of the love and laughter she shared in her grandma’s house. Love and laughter that she shared with Bucky.

She misses him, misses his presence. Even when he was downstairs holding a myriad of weapons was better than this, this isolation. She misses the way they bonded and laughed together. The hours they would spend talking because Bucky’s nightmares wouldn’t let him sleep, and because he had no idea what else to do. He told her that she didn’t have to do that, but she appreciated his company enough to do it. And honestly, she had started to feel safe around him by that point, and trusted him enough to protect her.

Y/N sighs, pouring herself a glass of water. Even though she’s incredibly glad he’s found his friends and family again… a part of her wishes they never came here. They were happy together, just the two of them. And Bucky wouldn’t be locked up like a caged animal, because she trusts him.

“God, that’s a horrible thing to say.” She whispers. “This is the best thing for him. His friends are here, and they’ll get him the help he needs.”

Yet, despite how much she repeats that point, the fear in her gut doesn’t dissipate.

Miles away, Bucky is feeling the exact same worry. Despite how kind and understanding Y/N is, he hates how she saw him like that, all locked up. Truthfully, he’s still amazed that she wants to help him, even though she saw him as the Winter Soldier, and knows exactly what he’s capable of. She’s the best thing that happened to him in a long time. He doesn’t want to lose her; and he refuses to let HYDRA's depravity touch her.

He knows this is the safest place for them both to be, and that this anxiety is natural. But there’s just something about this that seems wrong, an uneasy feeling that just won’t go. Honestly, he wishes they’d never come here either. That it would be just the four of them, or even just him and Y/N. He misses her and her company so much. All he can do is close his eyes and think of her.

And for now… that’s enough for him to get by on.

As she and Bucky slowly settle into their new lives, Y/N’s visited him almost every day she can, or asked Steve and Sam to tell him that she says hi. He still isn’t sure if he’s worth all this, especially Y/N’s love and support. Although, he appreciates it more than anything in the world. Finally, he has something to look forward to in life that isn’t getting out of a HYDRA base. He has friends, people who actually give a shit about him. And it’s all thanks to Y/N.

Each visit, she brings something with her. With each item, she tells Bucky a story, either about her life, his, or something completely unrelated. Regardless, it lets Bucky feel a connection to life, and to Y/N. It gives him something to look forward to, rather than constantly thinking about his impending future.

“So, this is from when my grandma took me to the beach one summer. We went swimming, made sandcastles, all that fun stuff. The water was freezing, but she still dragged me in, saying it would wake me up a bit.” She chuckles, her words trailing off as she goes back to that day. The sand covering her legs, the bitter coldness of the water. Back then, her only worries were English tests, and which college she was going to.

Now, looking back on that time, she can’t help but laugh. If only Y/N back then knew what was coming, and the fear she’d be subjected to now.

“Sorry. Can’t imagine that story was interesting for you.” She chuckles. After all, Bucky fought in World War Two, and now he’s listening to her family holiday stories.

“Are you kidding? Of course it’s interesting.” She raises a brow.

“Really?” Bucky notices the doubt on her face, her worry that he’s just saying that to make her feel better. In fact, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Her visits are the best thing in his life. She’s the best thing in his life.

“Of course. I know I say this every week, but thank you for your stories. They give me something to look forward to, something to take my mind off… all this.” He chuckles. “And you telling me about the beach just makes me want to go there again. I haven’t been there in years. Decades probably. God knows I could use the sun after spending every day in this cell.”

Even though Y/N knows that by this point, Bucky is at least a hundred years old, his words still surprise her. Honestly, you can’t tell he’s that old. To her, he still looks just the same as he did in the 40s. Sometimes, she wonders what it would be like to know him back then, as the Sergeant rather than the soldier. To go dancing with him, or to the Stark Expo. To know Bucky as he used to be, without this trauma haunting him. Although, she’s not so sure that Bucky is completely gone. Even now, she can still see that cheeky grin flickering in his expression. And he still looks as handsome as he always did.

And oh god, why is she thinking about this now, of all the times?

“Well, one day I’ll take you to the beach. I’ll buy you some ice cream and we can just relax on the sand. How’s that?”

Bucky laughs, flashing that smile she loves so much. “That sounds perfect. I’ll hold you to that though, alright?”

“I know you will.”

Yet, as they laugh, both of them know that their future is uncertain. He could be locked away in this cell forever, or be put in prison for the rest of his life. Nothing is guaranteed, including the chance to spend time together doing something normal. And that’s all Y/N wants for them both: to finally have a chance for peace.

Until they get that opportunity, Y/N is going to do what she always does. Stay by Bucky’s side.

The rest of her visit passes by without further incident, and Y/N is soon saying goodbye to Bucky once more. Somehow, despite knowing she’ll see him again the next day, saying goodbye gets harder each time.

“Y/L/N.” A voice calls, and Maria Hill walks up to her. Immediately, Y/N feels her stomach dropping. She hasn’t had many interactions with Maria, but she knows she means business. If she wants to speak to her, it can’t mean anything good. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad.”

“What is it?”

“You’re visiting Barnes a lot, hm?” she asks, raising a brow. Despite her reassurance that it’s nothing bad, Y/N still feels nervous. She nods, waiting for whatever’s coming next. A part of her expects Maria to tell her that her constant visits are not healthy, and to stop visiting him so much. Bracing herself, she prepares to stand her ground, to tell Maria they’ll have to drag her out of here before she ever leaves Bucky behind. “It seems to have a good impact on him. You’re doing a good job.” She nods.

“Oh. Thanks.” Y/N smiles, breathing a sigh of relief. Yet Maria keeps her brow perfectly raised.

“What did you expect me to say?”

“Nothing.” Y/N lies.

“Well, Nick and I appreciate your work all the same. You really do care about him, don’t you?” Again, Y/N nods. She thought that was obvious by now. Yet, with the way Maria looks at her, grinning slightly, Y/N suddenly realises what she means.

“She’s asking me if I’m in love with him.” Before Y/N can even reply, Maria smirks, disappearing back down the hallway and leaving Y/N in a stunned silence.

And that stunned silence envelops her throughout the rest of the day, including all the way home. It’s only as she works through her new routine:

Lock the door.

Check it’s triple locked.

Check every room, and make sure that nobody is hiding, ready to attack, or that nothing seems out of sorts.

Keep Sam and Steve on speed dial, just in case something happens.

That she finally speaks.

“I’m not in love with Bucky, am I?” she whispers. But as soon as those words leave her mouth, it’s as if everything falls into place.

The looks they shared. The way he smiles and how his eyes sparkle whenever he looks at her. Bucky could be having the worst day ever, but he still looks at her like she hung the moon. The way she smiles whenever she sees him. How quick they both are to defend each other. The fluttering feeling she always seems to have whenever she’s around Bucky returns, this time even stronger, so strong it infiltrates her entire being. Her heart pounds, so quickly that it could break through her rib cage.

And finally, Y/N understands what it means. She is in love with Bucky. And it means the world.

But just as quickly as that realisation comes, so does the worry. What’s going to happen now? What if Bucky goes to jail or worse, and she never sees him again? Her chest twinges and tears spring at her eyes. She can’t tell him the truth. Things are too dangerous, too chaotic right now. Bucky just got his life back, and this would just send everything into a tailspin again. Undo all the good work that’s already been done. And she cares about him too much to do that to him. His healing comes first.

Of course, Bucky soon notices that something is on her mind, and that she doesn’t seem to be herself anymore.

“Is something the matter?” His words cause her to look up from the book she brought. The Hobbit, he thinks she said it was called. It has some recognition in his mind, but nothing substantial. Now and then, small things flash in his mind, little snippets of memories. Parts of a life that he’ll never get back.

And it hurts. He wishes that all these people, all these guards who poke and prod at him, threatening him with further punishment if he dares retaliate or talk back, understand for just one fucking second what it’s like to live his life. To have a smidgen of the hurt and nightmares that he lives with every day. Maybe then they’d stop treating him that way.

But even then… deep down, Bucky knows he doesn’t want anyone to go through what he has. To have so much blood on his hands, to be so sorry for what he’s done, and yet not know how to make amends for it. To have so much of your life ripped away from you and be unable to get it back, to have lost so much because of someone’s agenda. Something that you never asked for or chose, yet they still did to you, anyway.

Although, despite everything that happened to him, he is glad that one good thing came from it. He met Y/N. She’s his constant, his tether to this new, real world. And he cares deeply about her, just as much as she does for him. So much so that he notices that when she’s not okay.

Her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“You seem off. Like something is troubling you.” When he notices her eyes widening, and panic crossing her expression for a moment, he sighs. She’s helped him through so much, and now it’s his turn to help her. At least, he hopes he can provide her with even one iota of the care she’s given him. “Y/N. If something is wrong, it’s okay to talk about it. I don’t want you suffering in silence.”

She scoots closer, looking up at him. He can see the gears turning in her head, as if she’s wondering whether to tell him.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Bucky considers pressing the issue further, making a hundred percent sure that she’s okay. But before he can, she changes the subject, opening the book again and resuming her storytelling.

Bucky sighs, his heart sinking. They’ve shared so much together, and now he can’t even know this about her, make sure that she’s alright. Of course, he knows he can’t demand to know the truth about everything that’s going on in her life. But he cares so deeply for her, and he wants to protect her from everything in this world, big or small. When he opens his mouth, ready to ask her again, Y/N stops him with a hurried:

“Bucky, please. Not now.” He furrows his brow. Something seems off, something deeper. And he wants to make sure that she’s alright, even as she quickly resumes reading. Yet, he also knows when to drop things, and so he doesn’t ask.

A few weeks later, Y/N comes for another visit. This time she’s brought more photos from Bucky’s past, of him and the Howling Commandos during the war. Perfectly normal, just like she’s done almost every day these past few weeks, and will continue to do for as long as she can. There should be no cause for any concern.

And yet… Bucky feels tense, as if something bad is about to happen. The hairs on the back of his neck soon start standing up, adding to his unease. His senses are telling him to look out for danger, and he can’t find it anywhere. Yet, he spent enough time as a highly trained sniper, using only his senses to get by to know that he shouldn’t just brush them off. If they’re alerting him to something, then he needs to pay attention.

He glances around his cell, still the same way it’s looked ever since they shoved him in here. The same guards he’s seen countless times before are waiting outside, keeping watch. Of course, Bucky didn’t really have the time to exchange pleasantries with them, but he knows that one of them is an older, more seasoned worker. Beside him, the new guard, recruited just before Bucky arrived. He seems pleasant enough, or at least as pleasant that a prison guard in this place could be.

Everything seems fine, seems normal. And yet, Bucky is expecting Armageddon to erupt any moment now.

“Bucky? You okay?” Y/N asks, her brow raised. Of course, she had no need to expect anything bad happening. She just trusts the Avengers and everyone working with them here to keep them safe. As any normal person would.

But Bucky isn’t any normal person. He hasn’t been for a long time.

“Y/N. Go.” He snaps, and her face falls. She interprets Bucky’s sudden coldness as him not wanting to see her anymore. And it feels like her heart is shattering in her chest.

“But we were going to talk about the Howlies again today, remember? Steve got these pictures especially for you.”

“Y/N, please just go.” He still doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s not letting Y/N sit around like a prime target until they find out.

“Bucky, please just talk to me!” she demands, stepping closer. Even if he doesn’t want her there, she promised she would help him, and she intends to fulfil it. “I don’t want to leave you. I want to help you.”

Before Bucky can respond, an alarm suddenly begins blaring, its noise filling the air. The hairs on Bucky’s arm stand up immediately, and his heartbeat increases.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asks. Honestly, Bucky doesn’t know what the alarm means either. But he knows it can’t be a good sign.

“You need to go. Now.” Bucky insists. Y/N’s eyes widen, and she steps closer, so close she’s almost pressed against the glass of his cell.

“No! I’m not going anywhere, not without you!” At her refusal to leave him behind, something in Bucky’s stomach flutters. He’d follow her to the ends of the earth. And right now, he wishes he could go with her. But he can’t. He’s stuck here. The least he can do, though, is protect Y/N.

“Yes, you are. You have to.”

“I told you, Bucky. We’re in this together, and I’m not leaving you.” The door to the cell opens, and a guard steps inside. It’s the new guard, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. He’ll help Y/N out of here, and it’ll all be alright. But something still feels off, still feels dangerous.

“Miss, you need to leave.” The guard orders. Yet, Y/N stays firm, refusing to go.

“Y/N.” Bucky hisses, his voice firmer. “Listen to him. Leave. Now.”

“I advise you listen to him and run… whilst you still can.” He steps closer to the pair, and Y/N warily steps back, her back pressing against Bucky’s cell. For a moment, Bucky tries to reach out to her, to grab her and reassure her she’ll be okay. But he can’t. He’s still locked up like a caged beast. His metal arm tenses, flexing against his restraints, trying to pull himself free. “Why do they make this things so fucking tight?!”

“I’d rather stay with Bucky. Please.” She whispers, fear clear in her voice despite her attempts to hide it. Bucky hates that, hearing her so afraid.

“So be it then.” The guard smirks, stepping closer, so close that he’s almost eye to eye with Bucky. “You’ve made your choices, and now you have to live with them.” And then, Bucky registers an emptiness in the man’s eyes. A look devoid of emotion. And it chills Bucky to the core.

Because he recognises that look.

The guard comes even closer, almost whispering in the pair’s ears now.

“Hail HYDRA.”

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captain039 · 3 years

Text

Secrets of mutation

Logan(wolverine) x reader

Warnings: Age gap, student/teacher, AOB, trauma, swearing, sexual, intimate, a little forceful, anxiety

Xmen/new mutants

AOB will be referred to second gender xD

The alarms were blaring in your ear when you woke. Startled and uncoordinated you got out of bed and looked out the door seeing no one but flashing lights, what the hell was going on?

You remember waking up in this strange place, handcuffed to a bed in some strange room filled with other empty hospital beds. You don’t remember much from before, your past blurry. A woman had come in, a tablet in hand as she scanned you with something.

“Where am I?” You asked.

“Who are you?!” You added tugging at the cuffs.

“Calm down Miss Y/n, my name is Dr Reyes, you’re at a facility” you frowned at her words.

“What facility?” You questioned.

“A facility for mutants like yourself” she said typing down something.

“You do know what mutants are yes?” You nodded to her question.

“I’m- not a mutant” you trailed off a little unsure.

“You are Y/n, a little late in showing but none the less, a mutant” she walked to your cuffs and you flinched as she unlocked them.

“What’s my mutation?” You asked rubbing your wrists.

“We have yet to figure that out” she smiled.

“I’ll show you around”

It was more of a cage for mutants than a program, you learnt after some time, the others you were with didn’t appreciate new blood apparently except Sam, Danny and Rahne. You were finding it difficult to present your power to anyone and yourself. Rahne said she could sense you differently from the others, you were unsure why though. As it became more clear you weren’t getting out you began to freak out. Your mind forcefully trying to figure out what happened before, your parents, your life? You couldn’t remember any of it, just flashes of faceless people and laughs. You got nightmares every night, something different each time, a jumble of memories perhaps. When those alarms rang though you sought nothing but freedom.

You had found the others as they looked around confused also. You all had headed outside a jet of some sort landing nearby.

“Who the hell is that?” Roberto asked.

“How are we supposed to know?!” Rahne yelled as a voice filled your head.

“It’s alright” it said as the jet opened and an old man came out on a wheelchair.

“No!” You heard Dr Reyes stumbling out as a orange bubble surrounded you. You were suffocating in it as you fell to your knees gasping for breath, desperately bashing on the force.

You had awoken to soft beeping, before it slowly picked up much like your heart beat. You looked around this feeling to familiar when someone walked in.

“You’re awake” she said as you stared at her, machine beating rapidly.

“What’s going on?!” You tugged against the tubes on you and panicked.

“Calm down” she said rushing to you quickly.

“My names Storm” she said and you frowned.

“You’re at professors Xaviers school” you frowned at her words.

“School?” You questioned looking around the high tech medical lab.

“Well above us is the school” she chuckled.

“You might know us better by the xmen” she said and you still stared.

“Took us a while to find your facility, I’m afraid you’re not the only one who was in that situation, they’re happening everywhere” she sighed sadly.

“That shield around it blocked the Professor out for a while till he got in” you laid back down, head spinning.

“Are the others ok?” You asked.

“They’re fine, getting use to the school, Magik causing some trouble but she’ll adapt” she stood by your bed.

“I-I don’t know my mutation” you mumbled.

“That’s why the professors here” she said softly as someone walked in. You sat up again seeing the old man in the chair.

“I’m not that old” he chuckled and you flushed.

“I didn’t-“ you frowned at him.

“My mutation my dear, I can hear people’s thoughts” he smiled stopping by your bed.

“Oh” you said.

“Don’t worry I won’t scope around in their unless you require me too” he chuckled you crossed your arms awkwardly.

“Bad joke I’m afraid” he said as Storm chuckled.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Um?” You said.

“Yes I’d imagine this situation is rather stressful but we are here to help” he offered a warm smile.

“I don’t know what to do- I don’t remember my past apart from waking up in that facility, nor do I know my mutation” you said.

“Yes, the facility’s, the Essex’s program give you a serum that takes away your memories of your past life, to better focus the mind” he sighed.

“As for your mutation I can help you find it” he smiled.

“Essex’s program?” You asked.

“Yes there are secret facility’s around the world, covered by the orange shield, they hold powerful mutants in there for testing, turn them into weapons with no memories” he spoke grimly, his eyes downcast.

“It’s hard for me to get through the shield without causing a big war” he sighed.

“These programs are made by the government, to test on mutants the deem powerful and dangerous and turn them into killers in the future” he looked to the woman who had a saddened face also.

“It’s hard to find you all” she said sadly.

“Terrible thing” she added.

“Come, I’ll show you around the school, lighten your mood a bit” the Professor smiled. You stood slowly thankful your clothes were still on and not some stupid hospital gown. You followed the Professor through a bright hall and into an elevator.

As the door opened again you were stunned by the house and smells. Old but clean with students walking around.

“They’re all mutants” the Professor said as you looked to each one as you walked.

“We have classes upstairs and down stairs, down the end here is the cafeteria” he pointed down the hall and you nodded.

“Back this way is the smaller kitchen and toilets along with rooms on the left side” he added pointing out each room.

“The floor below us is where you train, like for PE and fighting” he said.

“There’s a courtyard and plenty of room outside as well as in” he smiled going up the stairs.

“Professor!” You jumped as someone called.

“Ah Logan” you turned with the professor seeing the man coming towards you. You were hit with something though, an overwhelming scent and you held a hand over your nose.

“What?” The man said.

“I don’t stink that bad” he sniffed himself and you shook your head.

“No Logan I don’t think she understands our second gender” the Professor said and you frowned.

“Jesus kid” the man muttered.

“Did you need something Logan?” The Professor asked.

“Yeah that girl you found her with Magik? She’s causing a bloody mess again” he huffed hands on his hips and you perked up.

“Shall we go see your friends?” The Professor asked and you nodded. As you walked away from the man you glanced back meeting his gaze. You gulped looking away and speeding up a bit.

“Y/n!” Rahne was the first to run to you. You sighed hugging them tightly. Danny joined and you felt tears in your eyes. Sam came over too and you chuckled giving him a hug also.

“You guys ok?” You asked pulling back.

“We’re fine” Rahne said.

“How are you?” Sam asked.

“I’m ok, I think” you gulped a little glancing to the professor.

“You’ve been out a couple of days” Danny said and you frowned.

“Really?” You asked and she nodded.

“Was worried you weren’t gonna get up” you turned seeing Roberto and went to hug him.

“I get a hug?” He said in awe and you chuckled shaking your head.

“Where is your friend Magik?” The Professor asked.

“Outside in her little world” Roberto sighed.

“She hasn’t taken a liking to this place” Rahne said.

“She never liked being cooped up anyway” you shrugged.

“Y/n are you happy to stay here while I go talk to her?” The Professor asked.

“Yeah, thank you” you whispered and he smiled leaving.

You sat on the couch sighing, head hung back.

“We’re really at Professor Xaviers school” Danny said in little awe.

“The xmen” you mumbled.

“Yep” Rahne said.

“Seems strange we weren’t sent here- but then again we were in a secret program” Sam said.

“Secret program of psychos” Roberto grumbled.

“I don’t understand why I was there though” you said saddened.

“I don’t know my powers, I don’t know anything apparently” you sighed leaning your head in your hands.

“What’s the second gender?” You asked.

“You don’t know?” Roberto asked surprised.

“No” you mumbled.

“The second gender is-“ Sam stuttered on his words.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega” Rahne said and you frowned.

“I don’t understand?” You said.

“It’s a ranking system almost” Roberto spoke up.

“When you hit puberty is when you know your rank, Alphas are the-“ before Roberto could speak Danny interrupted.

“Alphas are hot headed idiots” she rolled her eyes as Roberto huffed like a child.

“Betas are in the middle class, omegas in the bottom and alphas at the top” Rahne said.

“What are you guys?” You said.

“Robertos an alpha so is Sam and Illyana, I’m a beta and so is Danny” you frowned at Rahne words.

“What am I?” You said.

“You’re an omega” Sam muttered.

“So I’m beneath you?” You questioned.

“No it- it doesn’t work like that” he sighed.

“Then how does it work?” You asked desperate.

“I can’t explain it’s always been there” Sam shrugged.

“What the hell” you mumbled sinking into to the couch more.

“I’m sure the professor can help you” Rahne held your hand as you tried to smile and nod. You didn’t know your past, your powers, your second gender? Who even were you?

Next Chapter ->

#x reader #au #aob #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #Logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #xmen #the new mutants #mutants #marvel

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naughtyneganjdm · 3 years

Text

The Magic of Christmas - Chapter 10

Summary: After Sam's proposal, Y/N feels forced into responding a certain way and she has to deal with the repercussions of that moment.

Characters: Negan, Y/N (reader), Sam, Rick, Princess, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35158540/chapters/89434693

Notes: I've gotten a lot of love for this story the last few days. Thank you to those that are sharing that with me! You're all the best.

Anxiety flooded Y/N’s veins. What the hell was she supposed to do? Sam put her up in front of everyone. This was forcing her to make some kind of decision in front of people that she had never met along with some people she had only just met. What was Sam thinking with doing this in front of everyone? Even if she was head over heels for Sam and she wanted to marry him, this was not the ideal way she would picture him asking her to marry him. This was putting her on the spot. Whatever she decided, it would be what people remembered her for. It would be the thing that would stand out for the holidays from here on out in this town.

If she told him no, Sam would go down as the guy that asked his girlfriend to marry him and he was denied. It would forever follow him and she’d be known as that horrible girlfriend who had walked away after saying no. If she said yes, it would only serve the purpose of not embarrassing Sam in front of all of these people. Because at the end of the day, she was just going to break up with him no matter what. It was just a matter of when.

Lowering her head, she felt Sam’s fingers squeezing tightly around hers. Everything felt like it was spinning around her and she bit firmly into her bottom lip hating that it came to this. This was putting her on the spot. This was forcing her into a situation that she would have never wanted to be in no matter what the situation was.

“Baby?” Sam muttered in attempts to get her to look up at him. There was a sense of desperation and worry in his eyes when she finally did raise her eyes to his. Sam bit his bottom lip, his eyebrows arching up trying to get her to say something. People yelled from the crowd for her to say yes. Lifting the microphone to his mouth, Sam cracked a smile and shrugged his shoulders. “I think she’s a little nervous being in front of all of you. Just give her a minute to gather herself.”

Tipping her head back, Y/N didn’t know what to say. Looking out into the audience she saw the grimacing face that Princess was making and the frustrated expression over Negan’s features. Sam pulled at her arm again to get her to look back at him, “So babe, what do you say?”

Looking down at the diamond ring in the box, she knew that she was not ready for marriage. Not with Sam. Not with anyone. More than anything she wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him that he was crazy for putting her through this, but instead…? She thought about how embarrassed Sam would be if she said no. She thought about how much it would hurt him for her to be honest in front of everyone. She didn’t want everyone to be in their dirty laundry. Telling him yes in public and then try to pull him away afterwards to get a moment alone between the two of them would get everything in a much safer, less hostile environment.

Nodding, she swallowed down hard and could see Sam’s smile expanding out over his features. She didn’t say anything, she just nodded. Sam shot up from the ground and pulled her into his arms to spin her around. Sam’s back was to the audience and she felt her heart breaking. It was pounding away inside of her chest. From where she was in Sam’s arms, she could see that Negan looked furious. Princess was mouthing ‘What the fuck?’ while the rest of the crowd was clapping for them out of excitement of something special taking place in front of them. Great. This was a nightmare and it was all coming to life right in front of her.

Just then, someone else caught her attention. At the corner of the banquet hall, there was Jess staring out at them. It looked as if she would cry. Y/N knew the look that was over Jess’ face and she knew it well from all the heart break Y/N had felt herself through the years. This was probably everything Jess would have wanted. Being engaged to Sam. The public display of affection. Whereas this was a nightmare for Y/N.

“Thank you for allowing me to take up your time with this special moment. Now you can find your way to the food that is being set up in the back by the way,” Sam alerted the people in the crowd who cheered louder after Sam set Y/N down.

They were in a room full of drunk people without question and it made sense for them to act like this. Sam reached for the ring from the box that was in his hand to push it up her finger. Now it felt like Sam owned her and it was a miserable feeling for her. Everything felt terrible as Sam handed the microphone off to someone else before urging her to follow him down from the stage. Right at the bottom of the steps was Emily there to hug her and congratulate her. Every muscle in her body tensed upon being hugged by this woman. This wasn’t what she wanted right now. She felt cornered and forced by everyone.

“What have I done?” she muttered to herself when they made it down the steps of the stage to the people that were waiting to congratulate them.

It was overwhelming how many people were surrounding them. New faces. Familiar faces. People that she barely knew acting like they were backing them somehow. This wasn’t at all what she wanted. This wasn’t romantic. This wasn’t perfect. It felt like someone else’s life and dream.

Tipping up on her toes, she reached for Sam’s jacket to pull him closer to her so he could hear her in the group they were surrounded by, “We need to talk.”

“What?” Sam plainly was still having a hard time hearing her. So many people were congratulating him specifically that she understood it, but it seemed like he was more so focused on them than her.

“We need to go outside. We need to talk,” she demanded, tugging at the jacket to pull him in closer to her. This time he heard her. It was obvious by the confused expression that was there. This needed to end now. She had to tell him the truth. This was so wrong. She couldn’t do this. Sam ignored her statement and pulled her over toward Princess who was standing there awkwardly staring out at them as they approached.

Dread continued to flood Y/N’s veins. This was a panic attack. Her heart was pounding. Her arms were numb. It felt like in that moment she could have just passed out. This wasn’t how someone was supposed to feel after they got engaged. They were supposed to be ecstatic. Hopeful for a future that they were looking forward to. Instead, she was grim and miserable. It had to be obvious how she was feeling because there wasn’t much she could do to hide it.

“You see why I invited you here?” Sam stammered with a proud smile that made Princess’s eyes get wide upon hearing his question.

“Oh yeah. You brought me here to see you ask my best friend in front of hundreds of people if she would marry you. There is nothing like putting someone on the spot, right?” Princess snorted knowing just how Y/N actually felt about this whole thing. Y/N touched her shoulder to hush her and Princess shook her head. Princess was biting back on her original feelings, but it was visible she was doing everything not to explode on Sam in the name of Y/N. Tipping her head to the side, Princess glanced over her shoulder at her boyfriend and scoffed, “Mercer, never do something like this.”

“I wouldn’t,” Mercer snorted from where he was standing behind her. Even Mercer and Princess had a better relationship that Y/N and Sam did. They had only just started their relationship, but they were such a perfect pair and they just fit together. No matter how different they were.

“What was that Sam?” Negan scoffed, the corner of his jaw flexing. Negan’s eyes were narrowed and it was easy to tell that he also didn’t agree with what just happened. Usually a smile was plastered over Negan’s face. This wasn’t normal for Negan and anyone would be able to see that if they weren’t focused on themselves. “You didn’t even tell me that this was what you were doing. I wish you would have included me with something like this.”

“The only person that knew was Aunt Emily who helped me pick out the ring,” Sam explained with a bob of his head. Negan was biting down at his cheeks trying to keep his mouth closed on how he truly felt. Even hearing that made Negan’s face go red. Emily was the person who knew Sam was going to be proposing and she was the one that helped put all of this together? It was like a kiss in the gut for Negan. He had every right to be angry for more than one reason. “Mom always told me that if I found the woman I was meant to be with, that I needed to make it a spectacle. This was for her. Kind of like the two of you. I want us to be involved with this town like you and mom were.”

“I asked your mother to marry me when we went camping and we were all alone,” Negan shook his head knowing that this was not what his mother would have wanted him to do. Even to assume that made it obvious that Emily had brainwashed his son about what his mother would want. Lucille enjoyed being the center of attention, but she would have hated something like this. Lucille was a feminist to the core. This form of asking someone to marry you would have mortified Lucille. “Your mother meant you should have made it romantic. Something that was personal to the two of you that…”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Sam interrupted his father by putting his hand up in the air. All of the things that Sam was working on was what his aunt would want and what she would do. Not what his parents would have done. “She said yes. So obviously it was romantic enough.”

Negan went to say something more, his lips parting, but instead he closed his eyes and lowered his head, “How about a congratulations dad?”

Negan’s angered eyes rose up, his hazel beauties staring out at his son who was expecting a much different reaction, “What?”

There was a silence and Sam shook his head, “forget it.”

“Sammy!” one of the people from town pushed through the crowd to wrap their arm around his shoulders. The motion pulled Sam away from them making Y/N desperate to steal Sam back so she could take him outside with her. “We need to celebrate. Onward toward the bar!”

“I’ll be back,” Sam reached his fingers out to Y/N’s when his obvious old hometown friends pulled him away. After she asked him for a moment alone outside, Y/N was irritated. If she was his new fiancée, she wished he would have been focusing more on her instead of the idea of partying with the other people in town.

Reaching for Princess, Y/N hooked her fingers around her friends wrist and pulled her toward the exit of the room. Princess told Mercer that she would be back as she quickly followed Y/N outside where the bright decorations on the building lit up the whole area around them. Once Y/N let go of her, Princess reached up to press her hands to temples and let out an exploding sound, “What the fuck was that Y/N? You just kind of let him bulldoze you all over again. I told you that you needed to start taking control of your relationship with him.”

“We were in front of the whole town and he was expecting me to say yes,” she panicked, hating that this was happening. It felt like the world was ending all around her and she felt like she was on the verge of crumbling completely from her panic attack. “I just nodded. I didn’t say yes or no. I told him that I needed to talk to him. That I needed to say something, but he didn’t come with me. I need to break up with him. I can’t do this. I can’t let his happen.”

“I agree with you Boo. You don’t want to be with Sam,” Princess acknowledged knowing so much more about her friend than everyone that was inside of that room did. Princess was doing her best to try to calm Y/N, but deep down there was no calming her. “I’m sorry, if I would have known that’s why he had me here, I would have warned you ahead of time. I just thought that you were desperately missing me since it was the holiday. We know that Sam is a nice guy. I didn’t think he was doing this.”

“This isn’t your fault Princess. This is my fault for not ending it when I wanted to end it,” she moved over toward the water fountain that was visibly off during the winter, but the lights still lit up the structure. It still had a lot of Christmas lights covering it making it glow around them. Sitting on the edge of it, Y/N buried her head in her hands and groaned out loudly. “I let this happen by not having a backbone. I’ve been wanting to break up with him for so long. I just knew that I felt bad. I felt bad because he talked about his mom which got me here. Then I felt bad that if I said no in front of all of those people that it was going to embarrass him.”

“Boo, this is your problem. You always worry too much about other people and not what is good for you,” Princess threw her hands up in the air. Clearing her throat, Princess saw that Negan was heading out of the doors and she snapped her fingers. “Daddy Big Dick is coming out.”

“Stop calling him that,” Y/N warned knowing that Negan looked angry as all hell. When he approached them, Negan’s jaw was flexed and his breathing was loud. “Negan…”

“What the hell did you just do?” Negan snapped seeing the way that her eyebrows bounced up. Reaching up to unbutton his suit jacket, Negan’s large hands slid in over the sides of his hips and Y/N felt a lump developing in her throat. Yup, this was going in ways that she never wanted them to. “We’re talking about telling Sam that you have to end it with him and you tell him yes when he asks you to marry him? How does this help the plan we came up with earlier? How does this help us admit to Sam what we have done?”

“I didn’t know he was going to do this,” she reasoned with Negan noticing that the ring felt different on her finger now that it was there. It was something that she didn’t want there, but it was there for the moment until she talked to Sam. “He put me on the spot. We were in front of everyone. What was I supposed to do? Tell him no?”

“Yes! You were supposed to tell my son no instead of leading him on,” Negan corrected her, his eyebrows bouncing when she asked him that. Princess looked between them letting out a tense breath. It made her presence clear and Princess was uncomfortable being between the two of them. “This is beyond fucked up.”

“I’m just going to head back inside. Give you two some space,” Princess backstepped toward the doors giving Y/N the shape of a heart with her fingers. “If you need me Boo, send me a text and I’ll be back here in no time. I just think you and DBD need some time alone.”

When she could escape, Princess quickly ran back into the building and pulled the door open to escape the tension.

“DBD?” Negan’s nose was wrinkled when he gave Y/N back his attention. “Why the hell is she calling me that?”

“It’s what she called you when you first met her. I feel like that’s what she knows you by. Instead of calling people by their names, she often finds a nickname that fits them,” she admitted knowing that Princess was a bit too eccentric for some people. It was part of her charm though.

“Daddy Big Dick,” Negan spun his finger around in the air when he recalled what Y/N’s friend had called him. “So that’s what you told her about me, huh? That I had a big dick? That’s the only thing she could figure from your conversation.”

“Now hold on. I was honest with her about who you were, but I didn’t talk about your penis to the extents to which you think I did,” she dismissed his negative attitude about the whole. “I told her about you before I found out you were Sam’s dad and then we talked again afterward. The fact that you’re acting like you’re offended over someone calling you that though shows that you are off right now. That would usually charm the fuck out of you.”

“Of course I’m a little off right now,” Negan added emphasis to his words, still not finding humor when he was fit to be tied after Sam’s proposal. “The woman I was having an affair with turns out to be my son’s girlfriend. Then we decide that there should be something more between the two of us and that we’re going to tell my son about what we did, but instead that woman ends up agreeing to marry my son!”

“You wanted me to embarrass your son in front of everyone?” she attempted to reason with Negan, but he shook his head and threw his hands up in the air in anger. “He would forever be known as the guy that got denied by his awful girlfriend for all of eternity in this town.”

“But at least you would have let him down instead of still carrying on. Carrying on is so much worse because it keeps still letting him believe that you love him like he loves you,” Negan fumed, throwing his hands up in the air to point back at the building. “Now he’s inside of there celebrating because he thinks he is engaged to the girl of his dreams. Instead he is engaged to a girl who fucking can’t stand him. Someone who doesn’t love him at all and is in love with somebody else.”

“I love Sam. I can stand him,” she cut Negan off knowing that it actually made her sound worse than she was. “I’m not in love with Sam. There is a difference.”

“Not much,” Negan snorted, beginning to pace before her.

“I’m just going to get him out here. I’m going to tell him that I wasn’t comfortable. That I said yes just because I didn’t want to embarrass him, but I’ll give him the ring back,” she declared hearing Negan half laugh upon her saying that. “It will be fine. I’ll let him down easy.”

“Easy? You think that shit is easy?” Negan reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose and he shook his head. “We were supposed to talk this through. I know Sam threw this on you and I understand that it was hard with everyone looking up at you, but Sam is my son. Sam is my baby boy and I can’t keep fucking and toying with his emotions. You should have said no. You should have told him no and people would have gotten over it.”

“Bullshit. Sam and his ex are still the talk of the town,” she countered with an angered breath. That was something she quickly learned being in this town. People still thought it was Sam and Jess and that was the way it should be. “This is a town that never forgets.”

“But they don’t know the situation,” Negan reiterated with her, his chiseled jawline flexed with frustration. “People don’t know what you were going through. I think people would have understood that you were uncomfortable with it being done in public Y/N.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she stood up from where she was seated to walk out to Negan who pulled away from her with a grunt when she tried to touch him. “Negan, I want to be with you, but with Sam…”

“You can’t make up your mind. You really can’t. You want to be with me, yet you told him yes,” Negan sneered in reminder of everything that had happened between the two of them. “If you wanted to be with me, you would be with me. Instead your hanging onto Sam while dragging me along. Sam is my son. Sam is my only child. I can’t do this to my boy.”

“I know that Negan and that was what I was trying to tell you all along,” she knew that she felt like shit about everything as it was, but Negan wasn’t helping any while he visibly was getting upset before her. Everything sounded perfect before when Negan was making promises to her in the truck before they entered the banquet hall, but it was all just a fairytale made up to make each other feel more comfortable with their futures. Nothing would have made their relationship okay. They both knew that. “I just was going to wait until later to tell him…”

“But you’re still not going to do it. You’re not making a choice,” Negan reached up to brush his fingers through his hair and he shook his head. “You tell me you love me the other day and here you are doing this.”

“This isn’t my fault. I didn’t choose this, your son did,” she defended herself hating that Negan was acting out in this manner. “This isn’t as easy as you may think it is.”

“You think this is any easier for me? I’ve thought about this long and hard. That’s why I told you earlier I wanted to tell him. I wanted to be with you,” Negan alerted her with a saddened breath, his eyebrows full of emotion while he stood before her. “If you’re not going to make a choice. I will. We’re done. Never again. I can’t watch you continue to drag my son along.”

“You asked me to fake it until the end of the trip so you didn’t lose Sam,” she reminded him of what he told her making Negan snort. His head tipped to the side and his eyes glared out at her. “It was forced on me tonight Negan.”

“I told you today that I didn’t want to keep living this lie. I told you that I was done with all of that. I wanted us to talk to Sam. To pull him aside and say something,” Negan recalled what he had said earlier when they were making everything for the party together. “It was an uncomfortable situation, but you still told him yes. I can’t keep screwing around with my son’s girl. Especially when I don’t even think she knows what she even wants.”

“You. I want you,” she whimpered reaching out for Negan’s wrist when he went to leave. The idea that Negan was officially walking away from her telling her that he was ending it made her heart hurt more than she expected it to. For days she tried pushing him away, but he just kept coming back. Now, with him pushing her away she actually knew how much she hated that feeling. “I told you how I felt.”

“If you loved me, if you were truly falling in love with me…you would have listened to me today. We would have talked to Sam earlier and you would have said no up there on that stage. Common sense says now that my son’s ring is on your finger, I shouldn’t be fucking doing this anymore. I shouldn’t have let this happen,” Negan stammered, his face scrunching up in sadness when he turned away from her and his whole body was tense. “Goddamn it. I can’t believe this is how it ends up. You’re the first person I’ve felt something for since I lost Lucille. This is so wrong.”

“Negan,” she called out to him and watched him walk away to leave her there to herself when he headed back inside. This was what she wanted originally. She wanted Negan to end things with her so he could still be close to his son, but now that he officially called it quits, she found her chest hurting. Lowering her head, she took in a few long shallow breaths. There was no way that she could go back in there after everything. So, she just sat there…waiting. Footsteps were heard after a while and when they stepped before her, she lifted her head to see Rick standing before her. “Rick…”

“Hey there,” Rick pulled his jacket from his body and reached out to wrap it around her shoulders obviously taking notice that she had been out there for a while. A loud sigh fell from his throat when he took the liberty of sitting down beside her. “I just tried some of your stuff you made. You really do have a talent for this whole cooking thing, don’t you?”

“Oh, I guess,” she stammered while Rick’s eyebrows furrowed. It was hard looking at someone she had just met not that long ago. This whole town made everything twice as hard for her because she couldn’t be the real version of herself. She had to be fake just to make it through everything. “Thank you for the compliment.”

“It’s just the truth. I mean all three of the things here are great and…” Rick nudged her with his arm, making her gaze back to him again, “your cupcakes were very good the other day too. I think you have something special going with that frosting.”

“I appreciate that,” she feigned a smile, but then realized what Rick said. Turning her head to the side, Rick gave her a faint smile before shrugging his shoulders. “You didn’t know that those cupcakes were from me.”

“Not until you just confirmed it,” Rick pointed out, curling his fingers around the bench that they were sitting on. “I had a suspicion though. You know, I’m simple. Sometimes I’m a little socially awkward, but I’m not stupid. I’m a very perceptive man. I was a cop before.”

“Oh?” she didn’t know how to respond to that. What the fuck was she supposed to say? That was a very awkward opening to a statement. It was open ended so she wasn’t just about to just spew it all out for Rick to hear.

“That was a fuck no in there,” Rick raised his right hand to point in the direction of the building that everyone was in at the party. “That was a case of feeling pressured so you said whatever would work in order to get it to stop. It was Sammy that can’t read the room.”

“It’s not…it’s not like that,” she lied knowing that she didn’t want the mayor to know what was going on in her personal life with Sam. Especially when the mayor knew both men that were part of her romantic life.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I’m not going to tell anyone,” Rick promised, his nose wrinkling when he spoke. “Young Sam came to me about this proposal the night we met. I told him that I thought it was a bad idea. People are often pressured when this kind of thing happens. He wouldn’t listen to me though. His aunt convinced him that it was the perfect way to do it. Unfortunately, he listened to her. But anyone with half a brain could see by the look in your eyes that you didn’t want that.”

“Apparently you are the only one that noticed,” she swallowed down knowing that even Negan questioned if she didn’t want it.

“You shouldn’t say yes to things that don’t make you happy,” Rick began to ramble, his blue eyes lowering down toward the ground to look at his feet that were tapping against the cobblestone beneath his feet. “Michonne is not my first wife. I was married to another woman. I was head over heels in love with her. Lori was her name. We had our son Carl and I thought we were great together. I was so focused on work though our marriage that I didn’t notice that we were falling apart. While we were together, she was having an affair with my best friend who was my work partner underneath my nose.”

“Shane Walsh?” she muttered the name she remembered from previous conversations and Rick immediately nodded.

“Yup. Then she got pregnant and didn’t know if it was mine or Shane’s. That’s now my daughter Judith. We still don’t know who the father is because it really doesn’t matter. That little girl is mine and even if she’s not, I don’t care,” Rick explained, his deep breaths shuddering when the snow started to fall around them. “I thought the world was shattering around me. I went a little crazy. Not only had I been betrayed by my wife, but also my best friend. The world felt like it was crashing down around me. I wanted to die.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she frowned not knowing where Rick was going with this, but she was definitely going to listen.

“I’m not. Do you know why?” Rick blurt out, licking over his lips when he gave her his full attention. Shaking her head, she didn’t know what to say so she just waited. “Because I met Michonne and I realized what real love really is. I thought I knew what love was with Lori. What I have with Michonne…it doesn’t compare to anything I’ve ever felt. Losing Lori, getting hurt, it led me to the best part of my life and I wouldn’t give it up.”

“That’s good to hear,” she responded, not sure what to take away from that conversation. It was a good story and an inspirational one, but she didn’t know what the takeaway was supposed to be for her. Rick was telling her for a reason.

“I’m telling you that because it’s okay to let Sam know that you aren’t in love with him. It’s okay to hurt someone and bring them down because when you let them go, sometimes they find something better fit to them,” Rick finally dropped that on her and she gave him a saddened expression when he said that. “Just like you’re hurting yourself trying to do something for someone else when it’s not what you want.”

“How do I do that though Rick? How do I hurt him without losing him from my life?” she knew that sounded selfish, but ultimately deep down that was probably why she was having such a hard time beyond not wanting to ruin Sam’s relationship with Negan. Sam was her friend. Sam was someone she cared about. Sam was someone she didn’t want to lose as a friend, but she didn’t want him as a lover. “I care about him, so much. I’m just afraid if I’m honest with him, I’ll never see him again.”

“That’s a fair feeling, but you shouldn’t be faking these emotions because you’re scared of losing someone in your life. If they weren’t meant to be there, they won’t be,” Rick pointed out, his head tipping to the side while he spoke. His southern accent had quite of a drawl to it that put a lot of emphasis on certain words. Shifting in his spot, Rick wiggled to get comfortable before sighing. “Plus, I’m not sure he is going to be okay with you being in love with his father. That’s going to be rough. So if Sam doesn’t want to be part of your life for a while, I can’t say I blame him. That would take some getting used to.”

“What?” her chest ached immediately upon hearing that. The color drained from her face and her jaw twitched. Rick’s eyes were hooked on hers like he was sure of himself and she shook her head. “I’m not…I’m not in love with his father.”

“But there is something there,” Rick pointed out, his right eye narrowing while he kept his eyes locked on hers. There was no breaking that stare. It was like he was attempting to use his own personal lie detection with his own eyes and it made her so anxious. “Negan is good to people, but he’s the first person to get a laugh over someone falling. He’s a child at heart. He finds amusement in those kinds of things. When you both flipped over that wall, I thought you were his girlfriend. When I found out you were Sam’s girlfriend, I was shocked. But I figured hey, I reckon he could be being nice to you in order to be good to his son.”

There was silence, what the hell was she supposed to say to all of this, “Then there was the play. Negan has been a grouch for so long. Just a fucking asshole and trust me, I can say that because I know the way he talks about me,” Rick held his hand up in the air defensively, placing it over his chest afterwards making her smirk, “but then you show up in town and he’s smiling again. He’s laughing. He’s showing off. He’s cheery. He brings people sweets and the whole time everyone compliments them; he keeps looking at you. This real cheeky, wicked looking smile. It was obvious it was yours. I didn’t even know you were a baker until Sammy told me that night. Which also made the puzzle pieces fall in together. Then, I walk into the kitchen and the two of you are in the storage room together. You come out flushed with cinnamon, peaches and ginger. Which, I noticed immediately. I used to be a cop and I couldn’t help but notice that none of that was in the cake or any of the food tonight. Negan looked like he was going to shit himself when I got there and when I sent you to get the relish, his pants were undone. The two of you I reckon were getting personal in that storage room before I came in.”

“Sir…” she stuttered not sure what to say or do since Rick wasn’t exactly off at all in his assumptions. Rick was a whole lot smarter than Negan played him off to be.

“The last remaining thing that just made it a homerun for me is I was talking to someone in there after Sam asked you to marry him. They are the local drunk and they mentioned that they were surprised that it was Sammy that asked you to marry him because they swore that you were in the bar a few nights ago sucking face with Negan,” Rick blurt out, his jaw flexing upon saying those words. It made Y/N’s lips go dry and she immediately felt terrible. That was a big fear of theirs originally. That someone from the bar would recognize the two of them from their big moment. “People really didn’t think much about it, but then the bartender told me that he was right. It was you. Well, then she started second guessing.”

“It’s complicated,” she bit down on her bottom lip, hating that Rick knew as much as he did. “This is going to come out anyways so what the hell.”

Y/N took in a sharp breath, closing her eyes and letting out a shuddering sound, “I was going to break up with Sam because we don’t fit together. I want to be a baker and a cook. He wants to own a big business. He doesn’t think that I can do it. We’re good friends. We make good friends, but we don’t make good lovers. I was about to break up with him before we came here, but he told me all about his mom that passed away which guilted me. I felt terrible about it. So I came here with him and decided that I would wait until the end of this trip. Sam’s friend ended up getting a flat tire on the first night leaving me alone to myself to tour the town on my own. Sam erased everyone from his past. I didn’t know about anyone here. I never saw photos of his dad or mom. I didn’t know about Jess. I just knew he had a father. I went to the bar that first night and I hit it off immediately with Negan. We connected in ways I never had with anyone else before. I found the perfect guy for me and then in the morning I wake up at Negan’s home realizing what a shitty person I am. I plan to leave that day, break up with Sam and then I’ll go home. Thing is, he won’t listen to me. I had to wait until I meet his dad, then we can talk. Negan shows up…”

“That’s rough…” Rick breathed out giving her time to think things over.

“It is. Then Negan begs me not to tell Sam and to wait to break up with him because he doesn’t want to lose his son for the holidays,” she just emptied everything out on Rick who listened carefully to her. “So I did it. But then today he tells me that he wants us to be honest. I just froze up there. I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s a hard position to find yourself in,” Rick agreed with her, rubbing his hands together to try to create some kind of friction to warm his cold hands. “The decision at the end of the day is all yours. I just can see in the way your face is…you don’t love Sam.”

“I don’t,” she answered with a nod hating that she was saying it to a stranger that she only recently met. It just was better to be honest than continue to lie to those around her. “I imagine you are going to tell other people now that you know everything.”

“I’m not actually,” Rick saw her eyeing across the street to see the gazebo that was still shining bright. “You can’t help the way that you feel. Even if sometimes it’s wrong in the eyes of many.”

“You’re not the kind of guy that I would have pictured to hear that from,” she felt her chest aching knowing that the gazebo meant so much more to her than she could describe. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do Rick.”

“Often our choices are there. We just have to make the right move at the right time,” Rick tried to give her some advice while still not being very judgmental about the whole thing. “I’m not going to tell anyone about this conversation, but I think you need to really be open with yourself about what you want. I just don’t think we should force ourselves to do things for other people to make them happy. We can be nice, we can be polite, but going above and beyond for others only ends up hurting us more in the end.”

“Spoken like someone who has done that themselves,” she hesitantly breathed and Rick nodded his head. “I just don’t know what the right thing is.”

“You do. Sometimes we like to let our brains get in the way of things by overthinking, but the gut feeling…that’s often the one that we should go with,” Rick stood up and headed over to the lights to look them over. “Hopefully whatever you choose ends up with you happy.”

“Thanks Rick,” she offered up a weak smile knowing that it sounded so much easier than it actually was. Rick simply nodded and she cleared her throat. “Hey Rick?”

“Yeah?” he looked over his shoulder at her, slowly spinning on his heel.

“You didn’t see those videos, right?” she stammered making Rick’s eyebrows crease when she said that.

“What videos?” Rick muttered visibly oblivious to the videos that she was worried Carol had not correctly deleted. Part of her worried that maybe Carol didn’t actually get rid of those videos of her intimate encounter with Negan in the gazebo and that’s why Rick was so aware of everything. “What videos?”

“Oh…nothing,” she waved her hand in the air making Rick laugh.

“That was very vague and random,” Rick folded his arms out in front of his chest and saw her shrug. Curiosity filled his blue eyes. After her asking him that, he wanted to know why she was asking, but instead fought back the urge. “Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” she was honest, her eyes lifting back to his making Rick smirk and nod. After all the conversations that they had about Rick in her time here, Y/N was surprised that Rick was actually this supportive and kind.

“There you are,” Sam’s voice filled the air making her lift her head to see that Sam was stepping outside of the doors to come out to see them together. “I was looking for you and Princess told me you were out here. What’s wrong?”

“We were just having a conversation,” Rick lied, his eyes locking with hers while Sam approached them. “I was complimenting Y/N here on the incredible food that she made. They were all very good. Your girlfriend…fiancée is very talented.”

“I haven’t tried them yet,” Sam explained stepping in beside Rick before Y/N. Standing up from where she was seated, Y/N removed Rick’s jacket and slowly handed it over to him. It was nice that chivalry still existed with most of the men in this town. Anytime she was out in the cold, they were always willing to give her their jackets and it was different than what she was used to, but nice to see. “I will have to get some when we get back in there.”

“It’s definitely not something you will want to miss,” Rick remarked reaching out to pat Sam on the shoulder a few more times. Silence surrounded them as Rick pulled his jacket back on. Connecting his eyes with Y/N, Rick took in a long breath before speaking again, “I’ll talk to you later. Just think about what I said, okay?”

“I will,” she took a moment to herself while Rick walked back to the doors of the building to the party. When Rick was inside, Sam nudged her and let out a hesitant laugh.

“What did he say?” Sam questioned with a tip of his head showing that he was curios what their conversation was. Rick was a stranger for her in some ways so Sam was probably flabbergasted as to how they could be having a deep conversation where Rick would be giving advice. “I can’t imagine it was only about the food that you made.”

“It was,” she lied, turning to look at Sam and she couldn’t help, but find herself upset with Sam. All the feelings she had before coming out here were intensified after talking to Princess, Negan and Rick. This was something they should have talked about immediately, but he was too interested in being the talk of the town. “Sam, why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Sam visibly was confused as to what she was saying.

“You asked me in front of all of those people,” she reminded him making Sam lick his lips and reach up to brush his fingers throughout his slicked back hair. “I’m not really someone who is big about public displays of affection and that was really putting the spotlight on both of us.”

“Like that’s a bad thing…” Sam bobbed his head about not sure where she was going with everything. “I thought most women liked to be the center of attention with things like that.”

“I’m not most women,” she pointed out making Sam nod his head once. “I don’t know about us getting married Sam. The two of us just never really talked about this getting married thing. I thought it would be something that the two of us would talk about before we decided to take this jump. You never even expressed that you were interested in getting married.”

“Well, you fit right in with my family and everything came with such ease,” Sam revealed with a long shallow breath, his hazel eyes gazing her over when he tried to explain why he did this. “I know that you are scared about being married because you are worried about things turning out like your family, but I want you to know that’s not going to happen. I’m not like your parents. I care about you and I don’t want you to have to go through your life the way you did before.”

“I know Sam, but it’s not that,” she tried to speak up, but Sam was the person that was taking control of the conversation that they were having. Again.

“You have to understand, I never thought that I would come back to this place and feel any kind of happiness after I lost my mom. I just figured I would feel nothing, but misery. Being with you has changed so many things for me. I’m actually happy here with you,” Sam gloated making her take in a sharp breath. That kicked her right in the gut filling her with such guilt upon hearing that. It was his mother that had made her stick it out this long as it was. She knew how much loss hurt, but she had no idea how much it actually changed Sam. “I know that things are hard and they aren’t what you are used to, but I want you to know that it’s because of you that I actually feel happy again.”

“I just think you missed your home Sam,” she tried to suggest, but Sam wasn’t hearing it. He smiled brightly and shook his head. His brightly hazel eyes were shining perfectly before the lights that surrounded them in the snowing environment. “You love your family and being away from them wasn’t good for you. You need these people in your life. You love them.”

“I know. I know that,” Sam assured her with a hushing sound while he tried to gather his thoughts. “You’re not wrong that I love my family. But a lot of things in my life didn’t come to me until you came into my life. The closer it got to Christmas the more I thought about my mother telling me about love when I was younger. Telling me that when I found the one that I would know because things would fall in place for me.”

“Things fell in place because it was your time to shine Sam. Because you worked hard for your life to be this way,” she complimented him on the work he had done and didn’t want to take credit for all the things going right just because she was there for him during it. “I was meant to be your friend, I know this.”

“I think you were meant for so much more Y/N,” Sam retorted with a scoff. “You see, my mother always talked about how romantic this town was and I figured with the two of us wanting to prove that there can be magic in Christmas, that we would get married in the town gazebo on Christmas.”

“Come again,” she gulped out loudly hating to even hear the suggestion of that. Since what happened between her and Negan there, she hadn’t gone near that thing. She knew that gazebo would cause her to flush over even being near it. It would only remain as a reminder of what she shared with Negan that first night. “I don’t know Sam. That is really fast and…”

“With my mom dying, I just know that we shouldn’t be sitting around wasting our lives,” Sam reached out to grab a tight hold of her shoulders to get her to step in closer to him so he could look her in the eyes. “My mother loved this town and I don’t know, I feel like a part of her is still here. If we get married at the gazebo, I feel like her presence is still here with us. You know?”

“Why the gazebo though?” she felt her heart pounding away inside of her chest, looking back over her shoulder at the place that was gleaming in the distance. “There are so many places here that…”

“It’s the most beautiful, romantic place here. We’ll get married on Christmas later at night. I already have a priest lined up for us and we can…” Sam began seeing her losing all color to her face as she headed back over to sit down. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It won’t be like anything is any different. It will just be official with us. It’s a magically designed area in town and people will think it’s so cute.”

“Listen, I know you love me and I love you too,” she waved Sam in closer to her to try to get him to grab her hands when she reached up for them to squeeze her fingers around his. “But with the two of us. I don’t know if we’re the marrying type. You know?”

“Honey, I want us to be like my parents. I want us to be happy and know that we are in love. I know life has changed a lot for me in the last few years…” Sam reasoned out loud making her nod.

“I just don’t want you jumping into things so fast when I don’t even think maybe you know what it is you want,” she thought back on what Jess had told her about Sam’s dreams knowing that he wasn’t even doing that. “Jess told me that you wanted to move to California most of your life.”

“Well, that was just a boyish dream,” Sam waved his hand in the air making her frown hating to hear that. “Sometimes we have to adjust our dreams so that way we can live a better life. Kind of like you. You loved your baking, but you realized that it was more logical to have that as a hobby instead of an actual career.”

“Except, that’s not what I want to do,” she corrected him noticing the way that Sam’s eyebrows arched upon hearing her confession. “I wanted to help you get to where you wanted to be with your company Sam, but I’m not going to work under you forever. I want to work in the culinary business. I’ve never dropped that because it’s not a hobby for me. This is something I really want. This is something I’ve wanted my whole life. We don’t even know each other enough to get married Sam.”

“That’s the point of getting married, isn’t it? Spending the rest of our lives getting to learn who we are?” Sam countered making her bite down on her bottom lip and she lowered her head. She had known Sam over a year. She knew Negan just a few days. And Negan knew her more than Sam ever would. “So you want to bake? So what? I might not agree with it…”

“My career choice should be something that matters to me. Not you,” she interrupted him making Sam step back to give her a long once over. “I’d give up a lot for you. I would. I have. But I’m not giving up this Sam.”

“Then I won’t ask you to,” Sam threw his hands up in the air, watching her closely. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but the closest I’ve felt to my mother since she passed away is here with you. It’s why I want to get married at that gazebo. It’s why I want to get married on Christmas. It would honor my mother. It would make me feel the closest to her. The way I feel when I’m here with you.”

“Sam…” she stood up from where she was attempting muster up the strength to tell him everything without hurting him. This was something that she knew was going to be hard. “I need to tell you something…”

“Sammy, a few people are looking for you!” someone from the party came to the door to push it open and Sam looked between them. “I guess it’s important, about Christmas.”

“This is about us,” Sam held his finger up, motioning her to wait. “We can talk later, okay? But if you want to stay out here a little longer, you should go look at the gazebo. I think you’ll see that it will be magical for you.”

“Sam…” she attempted to reach out to him as he ran back toward the building leaving her all alone again. Turning on her heel, she looked back at the gazebo and felt her throat go dry. This was Sam’s biggest fault. He never attempted to listen to her or hear her out. He just made plans and they went with it. Her side was never heard.

Even after everything, Y/N found herself further stuck in things than she was before making her question her life in general. Sam wasn’t listening to her. Rick knew what was going on and Negan made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her now that she was engaged to his son. This was turning out worse than she could ever imagine.

Lifting her hand up, she looked at the ring that was over her finger and cleared her throat uneasily. Other women would have loved to be married to someone like Sam, so maybe the problem was completely her. Reaching for the ring, she twisted it on her finger and knew that Sam just had her feeling guilty. All this guilt was swaying her decisions and she wished she didn’t care about Sam as much as she honestly did.

----

“Goddamn it,” Negan fumbled with his keys as he got back to his home after the party. Once he found out what Sam had done and had his talk with Y/N, Negan only stayed at that party for another half an hour or so. He was fuming. It was for the best that he didn’t stick around while he was in a hostile mood. Plus, he started drinking and when he was drunk sometimes, he couldn’t hold back his mouth. So, for the sake of Sam, Negan took off and went home. Pushing the key in the hole, he struggled to get the door open before stumbling into his house. Sprawled out on the couch was Buddy and the dog jumped when Negan almost fell over. Closing the door behind him, Negan grumbled when the dog tilted his head at Negan. “Hey Bud.”

Heading to the kitchen Negan could hear the jangle of Buddy’s collar after he hopped down from the couch to follow him in. Dropping one of the Nantucket pies that he had stolen from the party, Negan grumbled and looked down at it. It didn’t matter if he stole one. Hell, he helped make it so it should have been his anyways. It wasn’t like he was going to stick around to eat after everything happened. He was too worked up and furious.

Looking to his side, Negan noticed the way that Buddy was looking up at him with his big brown eyes. Eagerly the dog sat down and gave a small bark making Negan sigh. Reaching for the jar of dog biscuits that were on the corner of the counter, Negan lifted the lid and grabbed one, “Give me your paw.”

Buddy huffed upon the request, flipping his head about so his ears flopped around. It made Negan smirk before he held the treat just above Buddy’s head, “You can’t be lazy Bud. Sometimes you gotta work to get what you want.”

Grudgingly, Buddy gave Negan his paw before excitedly catching the treat in his mouth when Negan tossed it in the air for him. Negan’s dog was actually very well trained and knew a lot of tricks. The only problem was he was also very stubborn. Which made sense. It was his dog for heaven’s sake. Heading over toward one of his drawers, Negan pulled out a fork and headed back to where he set the pie. Dropping the fork on the counter, Negan pulled his suit jacket from his body and tossed it to the side onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Reaching up, he tugged the loop out of his tie and then started unbuttoning the buttons that were on his dress shirt so he could part the material.

“I hate wearing these stupid suits,” Negan declared looking down at Buddy who was watching him like he was the most interesting thing in the world. Grabbing the pie and fork, Negan headed back to the living room to turn on the fireplace. Once it was lit, he went over to the couch and dropped down on top of it. Buddy hopped up on the couch with Negan, cuddling up close to rest his head in the center of Negan’s lap. “Today was a bad day Bud.”

Digging his fork into the pie that Y/N had made, Negan brought a large amount up to his lips before taking a big bite. As predicted, it was fucking great. Glancing down at Buddy who looked up at Negan with big eyes, Negan sighed dramatically and shrugged, “I tried making things right Bud, but she just made is so much more complicated.”

Buddy whined when he adjusted his head to watch Negan closely. Negan would have liked to believe the dog was reacting to what he was saying, but he knew better. It was most definitely the pie that was in his hands. Negan made a strict rule that he wasn’t going to give Buddy human food, but quickly discovered that was absolute bullshit because he found himself sharing all of his meals with the dog.

Taking a few more bites of the pie he stole, Negan shifted to get more comfortable where he was seated and could see that Buddy was getting bored with waiting so he was falling asleep in Negan’s lap. Buddy was a dog he had gotten after Lucille passed away. Negan always wanted a dog but could never get Lucille to agree to getting one. Once Lucille was gone though, he was so damn lonely that he ended up falling in love with Buddy as a puppy. Someone had abandoned a box of puppies on the side of the road on the highway near town. Buddy was the smallest of the group and when no one else would take him, Negan eagerly accepted the dog into his life.

After Lucille died, Negan assumed that he would never have someone that he would connect with like her. He just pictured that he would be left alone and never find someone that would make him feel alive again. Negan was broken inside and he hadn’t felt anything for anyone until Y/N came into his life. It was fast. It was unexpected and it wasn’t like he was trying to have this happen. It just did. The last thing he wanted to do was put his relationship with his son on the line. Being a good father to Sam was really the only thing he thought he did right in this world, but now…he couldn’t exactly say that anymore.

When he originally slept with Y/N, he had no idea she was with Sammy. So, then it really wasn’t a major fault, but the last two days he still got personal with her knowing that she belonged to Sam. How good of a father could he be if he still did that knowing that she was dating his son? It actually made him feel guilty as hell. Tonight just made it worse. With her being Sam’s girlfriend, it was bad enough, but now that she was Sam’s fiancée, he couldn’t keep doing this with good faith. Not that it made it any better before with what they had done, now it just was worse.

“Fuck me…” Negan grunted to himself hating that he was getting so emotional with this whole thing. This wasn’t a way that he wanted to feel, but it was just a way that he did feel. Something that happened and just hit him so hard. All he thought about was her. It was the worst possible thing he could do. Especially when Sam had already slipped so far from his grasps. “What am I supposed to do here?”

Buddy’s eyes opened to look up at Negan again when he realized that Negan was talking to him, “How could I be so head over heels for someone I don’t even know Buddy? I told myself I would never care for someone again like I did Lucille. Fuck.”

Another huff fell from the dog before Negan shook his head and went back to eating the pie that he had. After a few minutes the sound of his phone going off shocked both him and Buddy. Buddy sat up, his head tilting to the side while he stared at Negan’s pocket. Reaching inside, Negan pulled it out and stared out at the screen. The photo he had taken of Y/N the night they went ice skating was flashing on the screen making him clear his throat. Hovering his thumb over the answer button, Negan thought to himself about what happened. Letting out a grunt, he hit the deny button and tossed the phone onto the coffee table in front of him. Kicking his feet up on the table, he went back to scoffing down the pie while Buddy stared out at him. With another tip of his and arch of his eyebrows it seemed like Buddy was very interested in Negan.

“You’re judging me, aren’t you?” Negan grumbled with a mouthful of the pie making Buddy’s eyes shift while he watched Negan. “It was the right thing to do to deny that call Buddy. Answering her would have me falling for it all over again and I just can’t do that.”

Once again, the phone started ringing and Negan lowered what was left of the pie to his lap. An unnerving breath fell from his throat when he knew that he would just have to keep avoiding her call, no matter how much he wanted to answer her. A frown flooded his features when Buddy reached out to put his paw in over Negan’s hand.

“I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?” Negan questioned, his eyes glancing over at the dog making Buddy tip his head to the side again when Negan talked to him. “I guess I should be sleeping in the doghouse with you, huh?”

Buddy grunted and flopped his head about making Negan chuckle when he did it, “What am I saying? You sleep in my bed with me at night already.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Negan could see that the screen on his phone flashed over making his jaw flex upon seeing it. Leaning forward, Negan grabbed the phone and saw that Y/N had texted him something. Debating if he should open it or not, he set the rest of the pie down on the coffee table and opened the text. It would alert her that he read it, but he didn’t have to write her back.

I’m sorry this happened. I never wanted this. I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to say no, but I felt like I had to say yes in front of everyone.

Trying to gather up the nerve to say something to her, Negan hovered his thumbs over the phone to respond to her, but nothing was coming. This was something that he couldn’t fix. Nothing he could say would change how everything went down or what happened. The outcome was going to be the same no matter what he did. At first, he wrote a little something, but then deleted it all to set his phone back on the table again. It hurt to do, but Negan knew this would have be done. Ignoring her was the only way that he could avoid all the emotions he was feeling right now. She was his son’s fiancée now and he was just going to have to shut those feelings down as much as possible.

----

“I can’t believe you showed up drunk,” Emily condemned Negan from where he was sitting at the island in her kitchen, holding the cup of coffee that was before him. Tonight was their annual caroling with a small group of people from town and after last night, Negan sadly had drank more than he cared to admit. “Your son just got engaged and you decide to start drinking when the family should be having nothing, but happiness for him?”

“Spare me the lecture,” Negan begged taking another long sip of the second cup of coffee she had given him to try to get him to sober up. “We all have bad days. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m going through my own shit right now.”

“You’re always going through your own shit Negan,” Emily scoffed making Negan grunt upon hearing her smart remark. Lowering his head, Negan looked down at the sweater that he had put on. It had a giant Rudolph on it and he honestly hated this sweater. Bells were on the sweater that would jingle every time he walked and Rudolph’s nose flashed. This was a sweater that Lucille had gotten him, but he actually hated it. It was gawdy, completely against his style, but he still wore it in memory of her. “Like we don’t go through things in our life too.”

Instead of answering her, Negan raised his head to give Emily a glare. That was what she always said. When he was grieving the loss of Lucille, she had to always thrown in that she was suffering too. It was something she did all the time and it drove him crazy. She always had to bring her pain into things to invalidate the way he was feeling and he hated it. Instead of acting on it though, he just decided to hide behind his coffee cup and focus on being able to sober himself up enough to get through this damn night.

When the sound of the doorbell rang, Negan reached up to stroke over the back of his neck and sighed. Great. He knew that would be Sam, Y/N and their friends. All this time spending around them was getting worse. It was harder to hide how he felt the more he was around Y/N. Especially now that he cut things off completely with her.

The sounds of happy chatter filled the house when he was left alone in the kitchen to himself. Thankfully it took a while before Sam and the crew flooded into the kitchen to say hello. When Sam saw him sitting there, Sam headed over to Negan and placed his hand in over Negan’s shoulder to squeeze it firmly, “Hey, you okay? After last night you just kind of disappeared and I haven’t heard from you.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just…you know it’s rough around these days thinking about your mom,” Negan was half honest with Sam, his eyes raising to see that Y/N was walking into the kitchen. Once her eyes connected with his, a flush filled her cheeks and she lowered her head to look down at the ground. “That’s all. I’m sorry about that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam assured his father with a half-smile, attempting to caress over Negan’s shoulder in a supportive way. “You know I won’t judge you for that. I just got worried about you.”

“Thanks kiddo,” Negan gave Sam a wink and reached up to pat Sam’s hand that was over his shoulder. There wasn’t much more he could say right now because a lot of things were going through his mind. Starting with the fact that last night Y/N promised that she would break things off with Sam after the party and that was obviously a lie. Negan knew that she wouldn’t be here if that was the case. It made him angry, upset and irritated all at the same time. Yet, he knew he could say nothing. He had to pretend like he was the happy father.

They all went over to the table to talk while waiting for the rest of their group to show up, but he just stayed to himself while drinking his coffee. Negan was doing his best to avoid talking to people that way he could make this experience as pleasant as possible for the people around him. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin other people’s Christmas experiences so he was going to do his best to keep his mouth shut. When the rest of the group showed up, Negan grumbled to himself when he saw Rick and his family entering the kitchen. Of course Rick was here.

“Hey Buddy,” Rick’s voice boasted making Negan raise his head in an annoyed fashion. “Before we headed out, I wanted to make sure that the two of us were able to talk about something. You got a minute?”

“Me?” Negan pointed at himself, doubtful that Rick really wanted to talk to him. “Why?”

“Don’t you want to smoke or something?” Rick nodded his head toward the door at the back of the house making Negan’s head tip to the side. “Trust me, we need to talk.”

When Negan stood up from where he was seated, Rick tapped his hand at the center of Negan’s chest, “Us boys are going to head out to have a discussion. We’ll be right back.”

“Emily is not going to be happy with this Rick,” Negan explained stepping outside with Rick. Reaching for his cigarettes, Negan pulled them out of his pocket and offered Rick one of them. Lifting his hand up, Rick denied having one of them making Negan shrug his shoulders. “What can I do for your Mayor Grimes?”

“Emily will be fine. You know just as much as me that she is eager to rub shoulders with the mayor so she isn’t going to be giving you any shit,” Rick pointed out making Negan bob his head to the side. Well, he wasn’t wrong. “Listen, I know we don’t really like each other that much…” Rick began in a grumble, his eyebrows tensing while Negan laughed and leaned against the corner of the deck to enjoy his cigarette. “I just think if something was up, I would hope someone would come to me and have a discussion with me. You see, your son is planning on getting married to Y/N on Christmas at the gazebo at the center of town.”

Immediately Negan started coughing and he tried to grab his cigarette so it didn’t fall from his lips and to the ground. Shock filled his body not believing that his son was so eager to get straight into being married to his new girlfriend. Attempting to gather himself, Negan shrugged his shoulders and pulled the cigarette back up to his lips. Rick was eyeing him over suspiciously before Negan spoke up, “What about it Rick? I can’t tell my son what to do. He’s been his own man for a very long time now.”

“Well, we both know that it shouldn’t be happening,” Rick stepped in closer to Negan attempting to make it so he could be quiet and only Negan could hear him. “I’m not about to judge you for your decisions, but that woman is not in love with your son, but rather she’s in love with you.”

Upon hearing that, Negan exhaled a large amount of smoke and lowered his cigarette down at his side, “Carol tell you that?”

“Why would Carol tell me that?” Rick was flustered making Negan’s throat flex upon knowing that Rick Grimes of all fucking people knew about his affair with his son’s now fiancée. Shaking off the confusion, Rick raise his palms and shook his head. “It was obvious. It was an assumption at first, but the more I saw the two of you together, the more I knew I was right. There was a new hop to your skip Negan. The way you both were together more in public than she was with Sam. Or maybe it was the local drunk confirming for me that the two of you were making out in the bar not long ago. I know it was a mistake at first, but…”

“You can’t trust the local drunks of this town Rick,” Negan scoffed still trying to hide what Rick undoubtedly knew to be true.

“Stop. Just stop,” Rick shook his head and looked back toward the inside again to see everyone sitting around the table. “Your son never lets her talk. Which blows my mind because your son is often the opposite of you. He’s the best of you, but when it comes to her, he can’t read the room. Anyone with eyes saw that last night was a hard no, but she felt trapped so she had to say yes.”

“She didn’t have to say yes,” Negan corrected Rick with a grunt. “She could have said no.”

“The people would have eaten her alive and Sam would have never lived it down. Even I know that while I’m one of the people that represents this town, it’s still a small town and I know how people are here,” Rick stated with a shuddering breath. “Sam is an amazing guy. Probably one of the best I’ve met, which is why I’m often surprised that he is your son, but he always bulldozes a conversation with that woman in there. I’ve seen it firsthand. You have to stop the marriage because we both know that it can’t happen.”

“How am I supposed to stop their marriage Rick?” Negan threw his hand up in the air, a frustrated sound falling from his throat. “I’m not going to go in there and tell my son that I was sleeping with his girlfriend who is now his fiancée because that’s what she chose to be!”

“I didn’t say go in there and say that,” Rick held his hands up in the air to get Negan to calm down to be quiet. “I’m saying maybe try to talk some sense into your son. I’ve seen him guilt her and make her feel bad about things. When she tries to explain things to him, he ignores her. It’s like he thinks everything is perfect in his mind, so it must be perfect in hers as well.”

“I don’t know why he’s acting like that. My son isn’t a piece of shit and that’s a piece of shit thing to do,” Negan acknowledged, hating to say that. If it was someone else saying that about his son, he would have kicked their ass, but he was already having a war with himself on the inside so there was that. “I can’t go and make decisions for her Rick because that’s what my son is doing. If she doesn’t want to be married to my son, that’s something she has to decide on her own. I told her that we should tell Sam. I suggested it right before you came into that kitchen the other day. I know it will be a shit storm and I know Sam will be angry with me, but I can’t keep lying about this. If she wants to be with my son though, I can’t ruin that for her.”

“You both are bending over backwards for each other and Sam instead of thinking about yourselves,” Rick’s thick accent fell over them making Negan bite down at his cheeks while he put out his cigarette. “We make mistakes. We all have. Even me. You know that. But if they get married on Christmas, you know just as much as I do that it’s going to end up hurting more than just you and her.”

“Then tell me what to do Rick,” Negan waited for Rick to say something, but instead Rick folded his arms out in front of the sweater that he was wearing finally drawing his attention to it. Tipping his head, Negan looked over the sweater and Rick looked down as well. When Rick lowered his arms, Negan snickered and rolled his eyes. There was a gingerbread man on the front and the words ‘Let’s get baked’ were over the front of it. “You may want to be careful wearing that out in public Rick. I can’t believe you’re wearing that.”

“Judith bought it for me, she didn’t know what it meant. Michonne tried to persuade her into getting me another one, but her heart was sold on this one because we made a tradition of making gingerbread men on Christmas Eve,” Rick explained while tugging at the material of the sweater knowing that in public a jacket would definitely have to be put over the sweater. It made him self-conscious but at the same time he had done it for his daughter so it was special at the same time. “That’s beside the point though Negan. I don’t know if you have to talk to Sam or Y/N, but you have to talk to one of them.”

“Yeah,” Negan grumbled to himself, raising his hand to cover his eyes for a moment. No one listened to Negan. So the fact that Rick thought he had that kind of control frustrated him. The bigger worry he had right now is the fact that Rick knew everything. Or most of it. “Who have you told this to?”

“No one, it’s just between the three of us,” Rick answered Negan with a tip of his head obviously referring to Y/N that was in the house still. “And I promise you that’s the only place it will stay. I just am trying to stop a catastrophe from happening for all three of you.”

“You and I both know that my son is still in love with his ex-girlfriend,” Negan reminded Rick of the relationship that Sam had with Jess and Rick shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what Sam is trying to prove, but I can’t be the one to stop their engagement because it’s not in my hands. I wish I could, but I can’t…”

“Well then you should at least try to talk some sense into your son,” Rick repeated again nodding back toward the house knowing that they needed to get back inside before people got too caught up in what they might be talking about. “I know this is a hard situation Negan, but something needs to be done instead of nothing at all.”

Negan’s jaw flexed in displeasure. Rick wasn’t wrong, but as he followed Rick back into the house, he knew there was pretty much nothing he could do. It would have been so much easier if they did just tell Sam at this point.

When they were ready to head out, Negan said he had to use the restroom and that he would catch up with them. They were going to go caroling for heaven’s sake, they wouldn’t get far without him so it shouldn’t have been a worry.

What he really needed that time for was to splash some water in his face and for him to gather himself. Being forced to be with his family and Y/N was going to be hard for him and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. Once he talked himself into being able to leave, he stepped out of the room and jumped when he saw Y/N standing in the hallway waiting for him.

“Fucking hell! You scared the shit out of me,” Negan cussed, his hand covering his chest while an irritated breath fell from his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“I told them I would wait for you to make sure you were okay,” she informed him making Negan grunt. Turning on his heel he started to head for the door to catch up with the group and her fingers wrapped around his wrist making him huff. “Can we at least talk for a minute?”

“You’re my son’s fiancée Y/N and you know how I feel about you, so I can’t really talk to you right now,” Negan informed her with a frown, doing his best to avoid her eyes hating that it got to this. “Us being alone, especially with Rick fucking Grimes knowing what happened between the two of us is not the best of ideas.”

“I tried to break things off with him last night, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” she mentioned making Negan groan upon hearing it. “I’m serious Negan. He kept getting called back into the party and in the moments where I tried to break up with him, he would mention something about his mother and this being the happiest he’s ever been so I couldn’t break up with him.”

“What are you going to do when it’s Christmas and it’s the day that you are supposed to get married to him? That’s coming up fast sweetheart,” Negan knew that it was just a few days away which meant that she didn’t have a whole hell of a lot of time left. “Something needs to be done. Otherwise, you are going to end up marrying my son because you can’t bear to hurt his feelings which will leave you miserable.”

“I know and I understand that,” she frowned, folding her arms in front of her chest trying to find a way to gather herself and her thoughts. “Negan, I just don’t know how to do this without ruining both yours and Sam’s life.”

“Well getting married to Sam will do just that,” Negan left her with that final thought knowing that she likely wanted to talk more about the whole thing, but the interaction was just making everything worse. Heading outside, he knew that she would need time to gather herself and while he wished that they could be real with each other and everyone else, he knew that it just wasn’t going to happen today.

This time, he listened to Rick’s suggestion the best way he could. He just hoped in the end it would help her make her decision instead of continuing on with this lie in order to keep everyone’s feelings from being hurt.

#Negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Walking Dead #Negan x reader #Negan fanfiction

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