#hurt comfort bucky barnes

[buckyalpine]

I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.

-

Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.

"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.

"No"

Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.

Not today.

Not when he knew what he really was.

What he had been all along.

He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.

Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.

"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.

"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-

"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.

"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.

Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.

"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.

His arm was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"

He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"

You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.

"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.

"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.

"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.

Why?

"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.

"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.

"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"

"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.

"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"

The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.

Regardless of what the world though, had you.

A pure sweet angel.

She trusted him.

That had to mean something.

It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Bucky and Touch Headcanons

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: Just some Headcanons about Bucky and learning to trust human contact again

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, Bucky’s trauma, abuse at the hands of HYDRA, insecurities, self conscious Bucky, pet names, no y/n used, no pronouns used beyond "you"

A/N: if you haven't noticed I definitely have a type when it comes to fic and that fic is hurt/comfort with Bucky. I kinda feel like everything I've written is like the same thing in different fonts, but oh well 😅 anyways, Bucky re-learning that hands on his body doesn’t inherently mean pain and becoming super cuddly and touchy with someone he loves is my SHIT inject that into my VEINS man

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

It takes Bucky a really long time to get accustomed to human contact again, after you two got together it took him a while to even do something so innocent as hold your hand.

It’s not that Bucky hates it

He loves being close to you, he wants it so badly

And he’s touch-starved

He’s so touch-starved

But he went so long without positive human contact, and now that he’s free he wanted it so badly he could feel his chest aching for it

But it made him so nervous to want to try

After one night where you mindlessly reached up to casually touch his face and he flinched away hard, after all open hand coming towards his face had meant pain for so long, you two had a long conversation about his comfort levels

You two took things slow initially

You would sit on the couch together, watching a movie and talking with your fingers intertwined, your thumb stroking his knuckles.

Sometimes you’ll fall asleep on his shoulder, something he’s slowly started to accept

At the very least he’s stopped freezing when he feels your head droop to his arm

But now that he’s grown used to it and learned to love it? He wants to be touching you all the time

Bucky almost always has his arm around you, or a hand on your back, holding your hand, etc.

He would never admit it to anyone but you, but he’s SUCH a little spoon.

Bucky loves when you hold him, resting his head on your chest while you rub his back brings him a level of calm that he’s never felt before

Or when you hold him from behind and he curls into your body

You slip your hand under his shirt and run your hands along his tummy, gently stroking your fingers along his skin

You know he’s a lot larger than you, being a wall of muscle that has at least a head of height on you

But seeing him sleeping peacefully, wrapped in your arms with a little smile on his face he looks so small

He loves when you play with his hair.

It took him a long time to be okay with it (too many memories of handlers grabbing and/or dragging him by the hair), but now?

If he had it his way your hands would never leave it

Whenever you two are holding each other your hands always seem to find their way to his dark locks, brushing them out of his eyes or carding your fingers through it

You learned that the quickest way to get him to fall asleep is to stroke his hair, and put him to sleep like that every night

When it was long, Bucky loved when you combed it for him after a shower, or braided and unbraided it while he laid in your lap during a movie

Now that it’s cut short (thanks to you, he didn’t trust anyone else to do it) you’re pretty much always playing with it in some way

As much as you loved his long hair, his shorter cut is nice because it’s a bit more manageable and still just as soft

Bucky loves when you massage his scalp, feeling your nails gently scratching against his head makes him melt every time

He also loves when you bathe him or bathe with him

Bucky had a lot of anxiety around being naked in front of you, too many bad memories of being stripped and hosed down after missions or beaten within an inch of his life

But with lots of time and comfort and assurances he eventually opened up and got more comfortable

Long baths with you are his favorite thing.

Whether you get in with him or not, he loves how gentle you are with washing his body, massaging sore muscles and peppering his chest and back with little kisses

He especially loves when you wash his hair (I know, shocking).

Usually when you’re done washing him you’ll guide his head to lay in your lap while you stroke his hair.

When it’s time for him to get out you usually have to wake him up, it makes you smile

Peace looks so good on him, you just want to let him bask in it forever

And oh GOD he loves skin-on-skin contact so much

It took so long for Bucky to learn that he was allowed to want things

When he first started opening up with touch, he would wait until the aching in his chest got unbearable before asking if you would do some skin-on-skin with him

You never wanted to push him, but you tried to teach him that he was allowed to ask for things he didn't need immediately.

He didn't have to wait until he absolutely needed something to ask for it.

He was allowed to just want things.

Once he finally gets used to asking for things he wants skin-on-skin all the time.

Most every night you end up cuddled up in bed, sans clothing, Bucky pretty much on top of you, his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

He'll press little kisses to your chest, making you smile when his stubble tickles against your skin

“I love you,” he whispers into your neck, “how did I get so lucky, hm?”

You smile softly and kiss his forehead

“Believe me Buck, I'm the lucky one.”

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

[lokiswifeduh]

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

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[delaber]

Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Words: 5.3K

Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers

Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.

Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.

According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.

For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.

"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.

Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.

"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"

He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.

His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.

"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.

"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"

It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"

"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.

Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.

"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"

"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."

Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.

"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."

"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."

You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.

"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."

Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.

Something really bad must've happened...

"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.

You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.

You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."

He nods again.

"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.

Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.

"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.

He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.

"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.

Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that. 

"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?

He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."

Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.

"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.

From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.

"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"

You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."

Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"

He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.

"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."

"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."

At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.

"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"

"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."

You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.

"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.

"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"

"You good?"

"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."

You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.

"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."

"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.

"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."

Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.

"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."

Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.

The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.

Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.

You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.

"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.

"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.

Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.

Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"

"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"

"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.

Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.

With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.

"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.

He wants you to join him.

To wash him.

Take care of him.

The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.

"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.

With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.

He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."

"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.

The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.

Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.

"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.

Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."

"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.

He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.

"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"

"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.

"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."

You look up into his eyes.

He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.

"I know, Buck."

"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.

"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.

He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.

You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.

Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.

"Want me to wash your hair?"

"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."

You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.

"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."

You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -

"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."

"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.

"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."

You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.

"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."

"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.

"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.

"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.

"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."

"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."

"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."

"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."

"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.

You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.

"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."

"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."

"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.

"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.

"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."

"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.

Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.

"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.

"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.

The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.

You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.

"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.

You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.

"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."

You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.

"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.

"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.

"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.

"I love you too."

"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."

You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.

He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."

"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."

"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.

"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."

With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.

His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"

"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.

He's finally smiling and it's because of you.

"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."

You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."

"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.

"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"

"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"

"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."

[venusstorm]

𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞

Fearful that Bucky only likes you for your body, you finally gather the courage to tell him how you feel.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, oral, insecure!reader, mentions of body worshiping, angst, crying, hurt/comfort, fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist | W/C: 733

̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ

Being jealous of something that was a part of you felt stupid, and yet, you fell victim to the blossoming insecurity.

You shifted slightly as Bucky spoke down to your pussy, mumbling incoherently as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. At first, it was endearing how much he worshiped you. Whispering how much he adored you between your thighs until you came around his sweet lips.

Until one day you felt disconnected – as if he was no longer worshiping you but solely what rested between your legs.

After hard days on the job, he wouldn't say a word. Would just slide open your legs and speak to your cunt in that sweet tone of his. "You're so pretty aren't you?" He'd sing. You knew he was talking about your pussy, so you never uttered a word in response besides loud whines and moans.

It continued like that for days and eventually, you grew tired of never being asked about your day. Missing the time when he’d rush home and the only thing he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms. When “my pretty baby” meant solely you.

You needed him to speak to you, to worship you face to face. As foolish as it seemed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he no longer saw you.

̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ

Tears sprung into your eyes as you tried to confess your feelings. You despised confrontation, and this was exactly why. No matter what emotion you felt, they were always accompanied by watery eyes. 

"Hey— hey, what's wrong sweetheart?" Bucky quickly joins you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you.

"What am I to you?" You whisper.

Bucky's taken aback. "My everything." He began to panic internally. Had he done something wrong? His worst fear was always disappointing you, hurting you. And seeing your face wet with tears as you question your relationship had his knees buckling.

"I feel like you don't care anymore," you hiccup.

He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you into a hug, kissing your forehead softly. He’s thankful you don’t pull away. "Please tell me what I did," he pleads.

You shake your head, laughing dishearteningly at how pathetic it would sound coming out of your mouth. "You know what. It's stupid I'm sorry. I'm just being overly sensitive."

His gaze hardens. "If it's enough to make you cry then it's not stupid. I just wanna help you, baby. Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

You inhale shakily before speaking, terrified that Bucky would find you needy and pathetic for what you were about to say. "You only want to speak to my fucking cunt, James. You come home and don't even speak to me sometimes. I— I feel like you're using me." Your eyes widen after the last sentence, afraid that you pushed it too far. You knew he would never use you but god you couldn't help but feel as if he were.

Another wave of tears streams down your face as you await his response. "M'sorry baby, I know you probably never meant to do that and I don't know, maybe it's nothing at all and I'm just being more whiny than usual. I'm sure nobody on earth has complained about their boyfriend speaking to their fucking cunt and—"

Your rambling is cut off as Bucky smashes his lips against yours, his arms pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so sorry," he groans. "You're completely right to be upset. I should've realized...I was just so caught up in my own shitty days that I failed to realize I'd come home and not ask about yours."

He couldn't even continue speaking, not when he was envisioning you thinking about how he possibly didn't love you. That he only cared about what was between your legs and not the beautiful personality and person in front of him. Bucky began to tear up, he couldn't hold you close enough.

"You mean everything to me, doll. I'm gonna start praising you face to face like I should've been all along."

You whimper against his hold. Thankful that he was so understanding of your needs. 

"I love you so much," he whispers. "Love you more than anything and anyone in the world." His eyes connect with yours in pure disbelief that he’s with the most gorgeous soul he’s ever met.

"I love you too Buck," you sigh happily.

[endo-bunny]

Sit Down Now and Rest

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Description: You had anxiety and depression, and Tony and Bruce were more than happy with getting you anxiety meds the moment that you asked. When you stop taking your meds, your mental health plummets and spirals as well as your physical health, and everyone notices. Don't worry though, they're there for you.

Pairing: (Platonic) Avengers x Teen!Reader

Type: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Depression, anxiety, sickness, fainting, dizziness, taking meds(both medicated and just vitamins/iron supplements), dehydration, insomnia, depressive and hurtful thoughts, reader doesn't talk very much in this, nicknames(Kiddo, Kid, Hun)

Word Count: 1,627

Note: I may or may not have written this with too much of myself being present… But it's fine! I also wrote this at like 2 in the morning so it's kinda rough but I just needed to get this typed out so here ya go! Also, the characters might be kinda ooc because I haven't watched any marvel movies in a little while but I've been hyper focused on fics with them lately so yea. And I am working on my tlou and tech fics, it's just hard to find the motivation to write them, but don't worry, I'm working on em.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

You were quick to notice that you stopped taking your meds. You knew that they helped you, but you couldn't get yourself to start the habit of taking them again. You wanted to, most definitely, but you couldn't. Every day was the same. Wake up, look at your meds, contemplate taking them, saying you'll take them later, go train, eat, and then not take them.

You also stopped taking them at night too. You had even set alarms so that you'd remember to take them, but it didn't help at all. Natasha was the first to notice that something was up, being the closest one with you. When she realized that something wasn't quite right, she made sure to keep a close eye on you. She was quick to pick up how dizzy you looked when you'd get up, sometimes not even being able to stay standing before you crumbled back onto the couch. You'd always play it off as if you just lost your footing but she and everyone else knew that that wasn't the case.

One morning you had gotten up much later than you had recently been getting up. When you checked the time, it was around two in the afternoon. You got up and went to the kitchen, feeling extremely hungry after forgetting, and also just not wanting dinner the night prior. When you arrived in the kitchen, Tony was there. He had kind of taken up the father role in your life.

The moment he saw that you had finally arose, he was quick to make a snarky comment in good fun, “Ah! The beast has finally awoken from their slumber, now off they go to find their beauty.”

You only roll your eyes, ignoring him. You felt exhausted, even though you got close to ten hours of sleep seeing as you fell asleep around 4 in the morning. You couldn't find anything easy to fix or that looked appetizing in the fridge or pantry so you just opted for a bottle of water that you would only take a sip or two of then leave with your other five almost full water bottles on your nightstand.

Before you could go back to the confines of your room, Tony had to ask you a question, “ Hey kiddo, did you take your meds?”

The question caught you off guard, not expecting him to ask seeing as he hasn't asked in a real long time.

“Oh yea! I, um, took them earlier but fell back asleep. Yea, that's what I did!”

You try to make it seem like you weren't lying through your teeth, but weren't very successful because of how exhausted you were. However, before Tony could confront you, you book it to your room. You hide there for the rest of the day, not coming out for Dinner. Steve had come by to tell you that dinner was ready but you told him that you weren't very hungry as you just kept your

on the book that you had your nose in. You kept your light on all night, not feeling tired.

The next morning, Nat knocked on your door around eight, coming to get you so that you could train with her. When she opened your door, she saw you laying on your back staring up at the ceiling. You looked exhausted and had dark circles under your eyes. When Bat opened the door, you flung up in surprise. You hadn't heard her knocking so you weren't expecting for the door to randomly open. You couldn't tell who it was at first because your vision went fuzzy black as your body tried to accommodate the sudden movement that you caused. Nat waited for you to acknowledge her.

When you did after a couple seconds, you looked over at the time, confused. It had just been two the last time you looked at the clock. How could it be eight all of the sudden? You were brought out of your thoughts by Natasha trying to talk to you. You zoned back in, giving her a questioning look.

“I said, are you ok? You look exhausted Hun. I came by to get ya to come train but it looks like you need to rest for a couple days.”

“Oh! No, I'm fine. Just give me a couple minutes to get ready and I'll be down and we can get to work in no time!”

She gave you a skeptical look but nodded, closing your door behind her.

When you got down to the training room, Bucky and Steve were there with Natasha. They smiled upon seeing you walk in. However, Bucky and Steve's bright smiles dropped upon looking at your figure. You were slouched, tired eyes not fully open and your eye bags were extremely dark.

Bucky was the first to point it out, “Hey Kid, you ok? You aren't looking too good.”

You only shrugged, your body aching and your throat feeling scratchy and sore for some reason.

As you're sparring with Natasha, you continuously have to stop the match because you go into coughing fits. As finish with your last coughing fit you go back to Natasha, but she's packing her stuff up.

“Wait, where are you going?” You're voice comes rather harsh and rude as you ask the red head.

“I think you should rest for the rest of the day Hun. I'll come check on you in a little while. But go take your meds and also some cough syrup and eat something.”

You didn't say anything as you grabbed your stuff and walked back to your room. This was stupid. It was just a little cold. You can still fight. You need to train. Deep down though you knew you needed to listen to her and do as she said. In the end, you don't. You go back to your room, take a sip or two of water, get a small snack and then sit down in the living room with a book.

You try to read it, but you can't stay focused for long enough to. Your mind is spiraling and racing. You kept replaying how training went. You were so pathetic. And rude. How could you be so rude? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You slam the book down onto the sofa, huffing.

You hadn't noticed that some of the others had joined you in the living room. They look up at you, surprised. They weren't used to seeing you like this. You tried to get up quickly, wanting to get away from this embarrassing situation.

The moment you get up, the world goes black, buzzing and ringing is the only thing you can hear as you collapse. You feel something picking you up and setting you down on the couch. You blink your eyes a couple times, slowly feeling sensation being restored in your body. You look around you and see that Bruce is coming over with a damp cloth and water. Nat has your head resting in her lap and Tony has your hand in his. They all look worried as they stare down at you. You hear gasped as Steve and Bucky walk in.

Questions are being thrown at you, too fast for you to comprehend. You instinctively put your hands on your ears, feeling overwhelmed. They all quiet down upon seeing this. Tony is the one to ask the questions from then on.

“Hey, it's ok. We're sorry, didn't mean to overwhelm ya like that. Can ya sit up?”

You nodded, feeling embarrassed now. Tony nodded and Nat helped you sit up, allowing you to lean against her.

“Ok, drink some water, you're ok,” Tony hands you the water that Bruce had brought over as Bruce is wiping your face with the cold damp cloth.

“Ya feeling better?”

“Ya, I'm fine.”

“Have you been taking your meds, kid?”Tony doesn't hold back, knowing what it looks like when you don't take the meds that have been helping you produce what your body needs.

You sheepishly look down at your hands that are fidgeting in your lap. You inhale sharply before shaking your head no.

They all sigh, Natasha being the one to talk this time, “Why haven't you been taking your meds, Hun?”

“I-I just don't want to… I don't like the feeling.”

They looked at each other, wondering what to say. As they look at each other, you go to stand up, but they make sure that you don't get up.

“Sit down now and rest,” Bucky's voice comes from behind you, his hands still on your shoulders.

“I'm sorry…” Your voice comes out in a whisper.

“You're forgiven kiddo, but ya gotta start taking your meds again.” Steve comes over and sits on the other side of you as he speaks.

“I know.”

“How bout I take my medication with ya? God knows that I haven't been taking it as much as I should be,” Tony chuckles as he tries to negotiate with you.

You didn't know if it would actually help you but you were open to the idea.

“Good, drink some more water. Now what do you want to watch? Hm? TV's all yours,” Tony stood up, giving you the TV remote as everyone decided to sit down on the couch.

You picked your comfort movie as you snuggled up with Steve and Nat. Tony had gotten you some actual food, and by the time the movie was over, you had drank all the water, ate all the food, fell asleep, and almost everyone else had fallen asleep as well. You felt safe with the people that cared about you all around you. You knew that this would be a journey, but you also knew that you weren't alone.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

Tag list: @fakegingerrights @macchiato-dreaming22 @silnebula

[pietrobarnes]

It’s Okay Buck, I’m Okay

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (slight fluff at the end)

The room was dark, the moon casting a silver glow through the curtains. I lay beside Bucky, listening to his steady breathing. These moments of peace were precious, as his nights were often plagued with nightmares. I watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, feeling grateful for every second of tranquility he could get.

Suddenly, his breathing quickened, and he started to thrash. I knew the signs all too well. Another nightmare. My heart ached seeing him like this, trapped in the horrors of his past. Carefully, I placed my hand on his shoulder, hoping to soothe him awake without making things worse.

"Bucky, it's just a dream," I whispered softly, my voice trembling with concern. "It's me, Y/N."

But in his dream, Bucky was being attacked. His eyes flew open, filled with a wild panic I hadn't seen before. Before I could react, his metal arm shot up and wrapped around my throat, squeezing tightly. I gasped, my hands instinctively trying to pry his off, but his grip was like iron.

"Bucky, wake up!" I managed to choke out, my voice barely a whisper.

His eyes were wide and unseeing, filled with terror and rage. His metal hand tightened around my neck, cutting off my air supply. I could feel the cold metal digging into my skin, the pressure building as I struggled to breathe. My vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over me.

"Bucky, it's me," I rasped, my voice barely audible. "Please, wake up.

He was still lost in his nightmare, his face contorted with fear and fury. The pressure on my throat increased, and I felt my strength ebbing away. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a desperate plea for air. I could feel the life slipping from me, my body growing weaker with each passing second.

"Bucky, please," I whispered, my voice hoarse and fading. "It's okay, Buck. I'm here. I love you."

My words were barely audible, and I wasn't sure if he could hear me. My vision darkened, and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. Summoning all my remaining energy, I let out a muffled scream, hoping against hope that someone would hear.

As if in response, the door creaked open. I saw a flash of Steve's silhouette in the doorway. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene.

"Bucky, wake up! That's Y/N!" Steve's voice boomed, filled with urgency.

Bucky's eyes flickered, confusion washing over his face as he slowly came to. When he realized what he was doing, his hand immediately released my throat. I collapsed onto the bed, gasping for breath, my vision blurred with tears.

"Oh God, Y/N," Bucky's voice broke, filled with anguish. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

Steve was already calling for Dr. Banner, and within moments, the room was filled with concerned faces. Thor gently lifted me, carrying me to the small medical room in the Avengers Tower.

As Dr. Banner and the others tended to me, Bucky stood by the door, his face etched with guilt and despair. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, but I was too weak to speak.

After what felt like an eternity, I began to regain consciousness. Steve was by my side, his expression softening as he saw my eyes flutter open.

"Hey," he said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," I croaked, managing a weak smile.

"Do you want to see Bucky?" Steve asked, his voice cautious. "He's been beating himself up about what happened."

I nodded slowly. "Yes, I need to see him."

Steve motioned for Bucky to come in. As soon as he stepped into the room, he burst into tears, rushing to my side and dropping to his knees.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he sobbed, his voice raw with emotion. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave me after this. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you did, but I would understand."

I reached out, gently cupping his face in my hands. "Bucky, I knew what I was getting myself into when I fell in love with you. I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and disbelief. "You mean it? You're not leaving?"

"I mean it," I said firmly. "We'll get through this together. You're not alone."

Bucky's tears flowed freely as he leaned into my touch, his body shaking with emotion. "I don't deserve you, Y/N."

I smiled softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. "We're in this together, Bucky. Always."

In that moment, surrounded by the comforting presence of our friends and the love we shared, I knew we would find a way to overcome any nightmare. Together, we were stronger than the darkness that haunted him.

—————

Should I make a taglist?

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

dewdrops deserted in the carnage 

the wistful wyvern, chapter four

a/n: we're mostly getting angsty in this chapter, buuuuut also just a little bit slutty at the end. just a little sprinkling of spice.

summary: “please, stop,” you said firmly, your glare briefly averting, “look, trust me when I say, I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice. But unfortunately, you’re the only one with the information that we need.”

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, forced proximity, violence, weapons, the death of a horse, crying, only one bed, jealousy

word count: 3398

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“I mean, I knew that your dad was a crook, but One-eyed Ollie? That’s your father?” 

Letting a heavy sigh seep from your lungs, “unfortunately,” you didn’t bother throwing a glance over at the warden riding beside you.

“How did I not know this?” 

“Only the most important people know,” you shrugged, as the king had kept up his promise to keep your past secret. 

“Oh, geez, thanks, snow,” Bucky huffed, taking your comment to heart, “glad for the assurance of where we fucking stand.” 

Twisting your neck, you glanced over at him as his stare was now firm on the road you travelled down, “…fine,” you exhaled, “what do you wanna know?”

Meeting your gaze, his curiosity then began to overflow, “what’s he like? What was your childhood like? Did you know him well?”

“Uh, well,” an awkward chuckle briefly billowed out of you, “let’s just say, he wouldn’t win any awards for his parenting skills. His idea of bonding with his kid wasn’t to teach me how to fish or farm. He taught me how to lie and steal from innocent people. To be honest, I don’t even know if he ever really saw me as a child, more just a tiny impressionable human being that he could mould into the perfect addition to his team…” 

Staring over at you, he asked, “were you there back then?”

“No, that was a little before my time,” you cocked your head as you frame rocked with each of Zenna’s steps, “if I’d already been a part of the only successful attempt there’d been in all the history of Obelón at breaking into the vault in Ingorn’s palace, then I wouldn’t need to go seek help from my father after swearing I’d never even acknowledge his existence again for the remainder of my days.”

Pursing his lips, his gaze then flicked away from you as he uttered slowly, “…so, have you ever stolen anything from me?”

Rolling your eyes, you sighed loudly through the amused smile that somehow bloomed on your lips, “Buck–”

“Have you?” 

“No!” you exclaimed, “of course not.” 

“Really?” he tilted his head before turning his attention back towards the road, “your fingers never had a moment where they itched too much to resist–,” and as he spoke, you begrudgingly fulfilled his request and swept out your grasp, snatching up the coin purse at his belt right as his body’s swaying gave you an opportunity. Though as soon as you’d swiped it, completely unbeknownst to him, you threw it back in his face and the pouch struck his bearded jaw, “ow!” before it tumbled down into his grasp. 

As his eyes lifted from the purse up to shoot a glare in your direction, you just huffed, “there. You happy? I stole something from you. Now can we please just–” 

But the rest of your banter got cut short as a rumbling abruptly shook the earth beneath you. Both of the horses reacted, getting a bit spooked at their sudden unstable footing. 

Without any further warning, the dirt before you split open as a huge ankheg burrowed its way out. 

Skittering forth with its many legs, the insectoid creature ferociously jumped your horse, causing her to tumble over as the monster snapped its large mandibles at her. Tumbling to the grass, all the air got knocked out of your lungs from the impact. 

Coughing and reeling from the fall, you swiftly unsheathed a couple of daggers and tossed them just as Bucky too sent a few bolts flying as well, both of them sinking into the monster at the same time. 

Unfortunately, the ankheg hadn’t been alone as a few more then crawled out of the hole and attacked you both. 

One skurried on top of you as you were still dazed on the ground. Its long branch-like antennas swayed above its head as it screeched a clicking call over you.

The bulbous sack that protruded right on its throat throbbed as green acidic saliva began to drip out of its mouth and down its mandibles, scarcely missing your head as it sizzled against the grass.

Fiddling for a blade, you sucked in a shaky breath when you discovered there weren’t any left on your person. 

As it pinned you down and you used all of your might to keep it at bay, your glance first fluttered to your partner for help, only to discover that he too was in over his head. Your frantic eyes then flickered around, searching for anything you might be able to defend yourself with. 

And just above your head, there lied a solid rock. 

Bending your legs, you pressed your boots up against the ankheg’s hard scales, using everything you had as you slipped your right hand out and stretched it to the stone. Only your fingertips grazed it at first as it wasn’t quite in your reach. Straining till a scream forced its way out of your lungs, your grip then finally succeeded and wrapped around the rock. 

It stunned the creature slightly when you knocked the stone against its head, enough to grant you the upper hand and slip out from under it. 

You didn’t know how many times you repeatedly brought the rock down upon the monster as you lost yourself completely till you were kneeling above its smashed remains, heaving for breath, with its dark green viscera splashed across you and dripping from the stone still glued in your grasp.

The grunt of Bucky dealing the killing blow to the one he was battling didn’t manage to snap you out of your trance. But when the dying sounds of your horse cut through the blinding adrenaline within you and found your ears, in an instant the rock tumbled from your grasp.

Twisting around, tears swiftly blurred up the image of Zenna suffering on the ground, her brown-speckled stomach split open and blistering as her innards spilt out of her. 

“No, no, no–,” you shakily scrambled to your feet, but already knew there wasn’t anything you could do. 

The only thing you could do for her now was end her pain. 

Bending down, you pulled one of your daggers out of her killer’s corpse, still lying right beside her. 

Your hands were shaking so hard that you nearly dropped the blade. Every muscle in your body locked up as you tried to kneel down beside Zenna. 

Then, as tears streamed down your cheeks and dropped to the blood-stained grass below, a hand suddenly appeared and slipped the weapon out of your hand. 

Blinking up into Bucky’s blue eyes, he quietly uttered, “I’ll do it,” as he tightened his fist around the hilt of the short blade. 

As he sank down onto his knees, you turned around and shut your eyes. 

When her suffering sounds were no more and the road grew quiet, an onslaught of tears violently burst out of you. 

Rising to his feet, Bucky wrapped his arms around you before you tumbled over. Twisting slightly, you curled into him, welcoming his hug as your sobs melted against his armoured chest.

“You ready?” Bucky asked softly in your ear as he sat behind you on his ebony mount. 

Staring up at the intimidating dark stone fortress of Yoslor Penitentiary, you let out a low breath, “no.” 

Sometime in the decade since you’d been imprisoned here, your father had finally been caught. For what exactly you weren’t sure of, but the night that the king had pulled you aside to discreetly inform you, was the first one you’d soundly slept through, perhaps ever. 

Even though the last very thing you desired was to lay eyes on your dad once more, you still slipped off of the stallion but a moment after Bucky did. 

You were both let in without much fuss after stating your stature and your business. Guards led you through the prison, passed some of the cells, and escorted you to a chamber, not unlike the one you’d been in when you had talked to the king and your whole life had changed.

After you’d both taken a seat at the central table, not much time passed before, like a haunting nightmare, the voice of your father began to rumble on the other side of the closed door.

“Oh come on, gents. You can tell me who my visitor is,” your eyes fluttered shut a moment at the familiar sound, “or do you want me to guess?”

Blowing out a slow and agonising exhale, you gathered yourself right before the door burst open and in tumble your father. 

Though he was a bit slimmer now, had lost more of his hair, as well as the new accessory of heavy chains that restricted his movements, he still looked exactly the same. 

“Well, well, well…” a bright grin split apart his lips, flashing you a few of his golden teeth, as the guards tossed him down into the opposing chair and secured his chains, “my baby dewdrop,” he stared at you with the eye not scared over and covered by a leather patch, “I heard you got out.”

“Hello, Olliander,” you greeted coldly, keeping your spine straight. 

“Oh, come on, no need to be so rigid,” the chains jangled loudly and he gestured with his hands, “get over here and give your pa a big hug.” 

“Please, stop,” you said firmly, your glare briefly averting, “look, trust me when I say, I wouldn’t be here if I had any other choice. But unfortunately, you’re the only one with the information that we need.”

“And what would I get out of this little arrangement?” 

Staring back at him, you swore you felt steam begin to billow out of your ears, “you would get to help your daughter, finally do something reminiscent of good, after running and making me take the fall when I’d thought you’d only set me up to be the decoy.”

“Look, dewdrop, it was a different time back then, the authorities were hot of our trail!” he tried to diminish your statement, “someone had to go down in order to save the rest of us.”

“So, you thought it should be your own kid?” you seethed, leaning forward in your seat ever so slightly. 

“…well, you’re tough, I knew you’d be able to handle it,” he tilted his head, “and just look at you now! If I hadn’t made that decision, then you’d never have this fancy new life of yours.” 

“Don’t you dare,” the little restraint you tried to keep a hold of snapped, “don’t you fucking dare take any of the credit. You didn’t do a single thing, my entire life, you never did anything that didn’t benefit you,” your pointer finger extended accusatorially, “so, I’m not asking you, I am telling you, you will give us the information we need, or else I’ll make sure your life here gets a hell of a lot more miserable than it already is.” 

The room fell quiet, not even Bucky dared to move before your father eventually let out a heavy sigh, “…what do you wanna know?”

“The vault in Ingorn’s palace, the one made out of hellstone,” your fingers dug into your thigh beneath the table as you spoke, “how did you do it?”

The one-eyed criminal then began to laugh, “seriously? You wanna break into that? I mean, you’re good, dewdrop, almost as good as me, but come on, with how rusty you must be these days, that is just insane–”

“Just tell us how you did it,” you barked. 

“Alright, fine,” he exhaled and rested a restrained arm against the edge of the table, “well, first of all, the lock on it is a thing of beauty, you can’t just tickle her open like a lady with a few lockpicks…” 

“You know, when you said that you knew a place in Erasild where we could stash our stuff, this isn’t what I imagined,” you stared up at the building before you, before shooting a glare in Bucky’s direction, “a brothel? Seriously? We don’t have time to pause everything just so that you can get laid.”

“Hey, this is business, not pleasure,” he stated, then playfully added before heading inside, “but if you wanna get that stick out of your ass, I’m sure some of them would like to help.”

As you entered behind him, the warmth radiating from the establishment swiftly thawed the evening chill that had settled in your bones. Navigating through the clusters of small tables, gently lit by candlelight, a trio of bards in the corner caught your ear as they strummed out a smooth ditty as a part of the sensual ambience. 

A voluptuous woman then sauntered out of a backroom with a casket of clinking wine bottles in her grasp. As she sat it down on the bar with a loud thud and her gaze then flickered up to spot your travelling companion, her face lit up into a bright smile. 

“Ah! Darling!” she immediately walked up to him and threw her arms around him. Pressing her lips to his cheek in a loud peck, she then pulled him back at arm’s length to get a good look at him, “what has it been, like three years? I was starting to think you’d died on me.”

“It's good to see you too, Helen,” a warm chuckle rumbled out of Bucky, before he then twisted back towards you, “let me introduce you,” he held out an open hand in your direction, “this is Warden Y/l/n,” you bowed your head softly as she found your eye, “snow, this is Helen Raye, owner and proprietor of The Sapphire Chateau.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam,” you offered her a tight-lipped smile. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” she purred, letting her gaze study you a second before her plump lips parted once more, “so, will you be wanting to share your entertainment tonight, or do you want someone all for yourself? There is this girl that came to me a few years back that I know you’d just love,” your eyes couldn’t help but grow wide as Helen battered her eyelashes up at Bucky, “she can’t just bend herself into a pretzel, but every other shape imaginable.” 

“Uh, some other time, Hel,” he declined with a polite smile, “we’re not really here for that.”

“Oh,” she breathed, though still smirked back at Bucky like she was about to ravage him. 

“We just need a place to set off a few things, let Echo stay, just for a little bit while we go pay Ingorn a visit.” 

“Ah, you must be going to that fancy ball they’re throwing! I’ve no idea what the occasion is, but business has been booming the past few weeks as all sorts of lords and ladies have passed through on their way down to the capital.”

Sharing a glance with you at the new information, Bucky then fibbed, “uh, yeah, we–… we are.” 

Twisting her frame, Helen then waved down a lanky boy behind the bar and said, “I’ll have Jeremy take care of your horse,” you watched as the lad zoomed out to do his duty, “and if you want somewhere secure to store your items, you’re welcome to use the little safe in my room.” 

“Thank you,” you uttered. 

“Do you have any rooms available?” Bucky asked as Helen manoeuvred around the bar, “a hot bath would be nice before we head out again.” 

“Uh,” her vision fluttered down behind the counter where a few keys hung from small hooks, “I have one room unoccupied,” she held up a dangling key, hooked on her curved finger, “it’s yours if you want it.”

And before you could protest about how this didn’t line up with the limited time you had to work with, Bucky had already snatched up the key, “thanks.”

“Room eight,” her teeth lightly caught her bottom lip, “your favourite, if I recall correctly.” 

If his back hadn’t been turned to you, the flush that then crept up on Bucky’s features would have been noticeable to your eyes even in this low light, “it–, uh, yeah, thanks,” he then cleared his throat, “the soap and such still in the same spot?”

“It is.”

“Great,” he exhaled, then turned to you, “I’m gonna head up first, get cleaned up,” his feet already began to carry him towards the staircase in the corner, “you mind ordering us some food? I’m starving for a proper meal.” 

“Uh, sure,” you uttered, still a bit stunned as you now found yourself without a buffer, “so, what kind of food do you serve in this establishment?”

“Let me get you a menu, love,” Helen headed into the back for a moment, only to return with more than just a pamphlet of culinary options. As the list slid over the bar towards you, her palm also insistently pushed a small glass vial containing some dried herbs in your direction. 

“What–,” heat began to rise in your cheeks as you read the small label. It was athrire, the herb commonly brewed into a tea and utilised as birth control, “oh, no, thanks, but I don’t need this.”

“You’ve been on the road for a while, and from how I know that man, you’ve probably run out by now,” she winked and pushed it right back to you as you tried to return it. 

“No, it’s really not like that, we’re not–”

“Darling,” her hand enclosed momentarily around yours, “just take it.”

When you’d found the room, Bucky was so fresh out of his bath that you nearly caught a glimpse of something as he buttoned up a fresh pair of pants. Droplets still trailed down his inked physique as he turned at the sound of your entrance. 

If his painstakingly slow work at covering his drool-worthy body up again hadn’t been enough to make you more flustered than a bashful bunny, the discovery that the room only had one bed sure did the trick.

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it still managed to. 

And when you stated that you’d just sleep on the floor and let him have the plush mattress all to himself, Bucky argued teasingly that you’d slept under the stars together countless times before. 

But that had been different, oh so very different and he knew it.

As he disappeared to get your food, you grabbed a quick bath. The view of the night sky from out of the balcony doors relaxed and distracted you long enough that you had to scramble at the last moment when Bucky returned, knocking on the door before you shrieked for him to stay on the other side just a moment longer as you rushed out of the tub. 

After the warm meal was scarfed down and a dozen yawns had escaped your lungs, you found yourself in a place you never thought you’d actually get to be. 

In bed next to Bucky. 

You were afraid to move. Just laid there like a statue, your stare darting from the constellations clear out the tall window, to the small Zondür alter in the corner of the chamber. 

But eventually, you heard your hushed tone fill the room, “so, Helen…”

“Hm?” Bucky hummed from his side of the bed, “what about her?”

“She seems nice,” your gaze bore a hole into the ceiling. 

Hearing him shift beside you, he said, “well, she is.” 

Feeling his gaze upon your silhouette, you didn’t dare to twist and meet his eye, “…so, how many of the other people that work here do you think are nice?”

A short chuckle then bubbled out of him, “snow…” before he teased, “what are you trying to get a personal recommendation or something?”

Your mouth then flew open as you shot him a glare, “no, I just–,” letting out a loud groan, “forget I said anything,” and you frantically turned your back to him, “go to sleep.” 

“Helen is very good at what she does,” he casually informed you through his amused smirk, “she hires people who are very good at their job, people who are very nice. You’d be in good hands with any of them.”

“I-I wasn’t trying to–,” you stammered, nearly twisting around to bash his mass in the moonlight, “just shut up, please!” but he just laughed. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[queers-gambit]

Regular Cream and Sugar

prompt: ( requested ) being cast as the opposite lead to your bane in the next hottest romcom blockbuster comes with unforeseen outcums.

pairing: actor!Bucky Barnes x female!actress!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 8.3k+

note: you know what? this is fire. i don't care for other opinions (a lie, i absolutely do).

warnings: poor references to different real shows / movies / media as pertains to acting for a living. imagination required. explicit language, angst, Lord's name in vain, hurt and comfort, dickhead behavior / depiction of verbal aggression, explicit content, NSFW, barely edited, enemies to lovers, happy ending, feelings are hard, depiction of mental health: anxiety, anxiety attacks.

featured fic movie: Anyone But You (2023) -> watch on Netflix featured fic show: Once Upon A Time (2011) -> watch on Disney+

Lights from what felt like a thousand paparazzi cameras flashed in a blinding mirage, a hundred different voices all shouting your name - begging you look this way, that way, to give a smile; show the back of your dress, now the front; to smolder, pout, wink for them. You were mostly immune to the wave of attention, but it still jostled you, even scared you sometimes; posed as more of a looming threat than anything. Yet this was the life you chose, the media you 'invited' no matter how public you were or not online and in person.

Didn't make it any less easy.

You sighed and smiled prettily for the flashing cameras on the sentimental red carpet, feeling a hand glide around your waist; leaning into the affection despite the instant nausea the appendage caused.

"James," you greeted your costar stiffly.

"Oh, back to James, are we?" He chuckled, hand splayed warmly through the material of your designer dress. "C'mon, honey, I thought we were past all that hostility?" He pointed at a group of cameras, both perfectly peacocked for them; his hand lowering to his suit pants pocket.

You cooed sweetly, "Why would you think that?"

"Just thought we were getting along pretty well, is all."

You sighed and pulled away from him, but let your hand drop into his metal prothetic to guide him along the carpet; dodging people still milling around. The two of you took new poses on the carpet markers.

"Oh, please," you smiled brightly, "that's just good acting. Don't worry, you'll recognize it one day."

Bucky chuckled, "Ooooh, someone's a bit icy today. C'mon, toots, what's got your panties in a twist? You can tell me - "

"Can we just get through the next few hours without mentioning or thinking about my panties, you horndog?" You asked him through clenched teeth, still smiling as if sharing a few inside jokes.

Bucky laughed to himself, "After you, doll."

You sighed and took his offered arm, letting Bucky lead the way up to the designated area your managers were pointing you towards. Bucky charismatically greeted the interviewer, an obvious pompous show to mask the anxiety coursing through his veins. You saddled up to where your team was stationed before the platform, kissing your publicist, Regina, on the cheek in greeting while asking, "You seriously had to fucking match us?"

"It's a good PR look, babe, and blue's both your colors. Just keep smiling," she hushed, offering her hand to help you up the two-step platform. Bucky was instantly doing the same, reaching for his hand as you smiled at the camera set up - reminding yourself it was all for the pursuit of good PR.

"Wow, you two look stunning!" The interviewer squealed slightly, gesturing at the two of you standing with your manicured hand curled around Bucky's meaty bicep. "I love a good matching set, and you two look so gorgeous - very chic, very demure!"

"You think this look is demure?" Bucky teased, picking the lapel of his blazer. "You see these diamonds?"

"Swarovski is pretty loud, draws the eye in," you purred, keeping the conversation going, desperate to step away and watch the premier of the bloody film already so you could leave the event all together. Your diamond-ringed fingers pet your neck and collarbones, bringing to attention the expensive gemstones set in a fashionable web.

"Oh, they look stunning on you!" The woman from E! complimented. "So, obviously - we have the whole matching look down pat. Is this look an homage to the film? Your characters?"

"No, no, just what was thought we looked best in, you know?" Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist and by far enjoying the forced proximity. "But you've kinda got a whole, you know," he motioned at her all black look, "monochrome look goin' for yah - it's nice! I dig it!"

"Oh, wow, th-thank you," she flushed under his baby blues that your matching fits made pop with an unbearable glimmer. "It's vintage Chanel."

"Totally gorgeous," you complimented, starting to feel the first tendrils of discomfort. "Who're we wearing?" You asked Bucky, "Do you know?"

"I'm pretty sure we're both in Louis," Bucky glanced down at himself before opening his suit to check the label. "I know the shoes are."

You smiled at the interviewer as she continued, "So, I've gotta say, I'm crazy excited for this film, it's the hottest thing anyone can talk about!" You and Bucky offered generic murmurs of thanks, her continuing, "It's all over social medias, there's even some fan edits already out using what they could from the trailers! Fans are really digging the modern-Shakespeare take and the chemistry between the cast. I wanna ask, being the two leads playing into this romantic relationship, how has the whole experience been for the two of you? You haven't worked together, since, what? Some ten years ago or so? When the two of you costarred in Once Upon A Time, right?"

You cleared your throat, "Woah, what a throwback."

"I know," Bucky mused, looking down at you. "We played a couple on that one, too, right?"

You nodded, trying to beat off the brewing chaos in your stomach by answering, "Yeah, however short lived."

"Which, can I say, always confused me - why your character was killed off!" She directed at you. "I loved Alice!"

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you explained, "Oh, I know, I remember reading all these comments after that episode aired, just about how upset fans were. I mean, it was a really quirky take on Alice in Wonderland - so it was kinda jarring to kill off Alice, right? But it was a creative decision I was really excited to undertake, it was my first reoccurring role in a show, first time I got to play a parent, and it was my first big, dramatic death scene."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, "I remember talking with the writers and asking them if we could do it big. They were very okay with it. I honestly miss that show - the cast and crew, everyone was just a pleasure to work with. I'd love to do it again."

In truth, your character, Alice, the lost lover of Bucky's Mad Hatter, was written off the show after a particularly nasty argument with Bucky had you ready to quit and walk off set that very moment. This was a common enough theme: arguments on set between you and Buck, a stark opposite to your scenes together on camera. You're not even sure how it started, just that you and Bucky could never get along after the chemistry read. He was pompous and arrogant and borderline narcissistic; all characteristics that rubbed you the wrong way, hence the inability to get along. So, after brief deliberation and considering you were the one ready to move on, you were to be written off (first).

Of course, you couldn't admit to any of this - it was a horrible look to the public. Especially since it was Bucky you couldn't get along with for the sake of a job, who you now had to convince the world that you didn't despise for the sake of this movie.

"Well," Bucky looked back at the interviewer with a smile, "never say never, we had some good times - "

"On the set of the show or movie?" She asked eagerly. You felt like you could practically smell your companion's desire to change the subject. Neither of you were keen on talking about your time on the show together, not after all the conflict and turmoil that boiled over into today's circumstances.

"Oh, for sure both," Bucky nodded, "but we got to film this movie in LA first for about a month. Then we spent three months in Australia for this movie and it was - yeah, no, it was a lot of fun. The location definitely helped romanticize things. Lot of laughs shared, good memories, fond friendships; lot of really great food, Down Under, too."

You gave a fake chuckle, stomach lurching as your mind screamed that he was lying. Filming this movie wasn't really fun by any circumstance; not when you and Buck couldn't be in a room together without some comment being hurled with malicious intent. Bucky was lying - you knew it, the pretty girl in all black knew it; surely, fans on the internet would know it the moment they saw this interview - or at least, your face.

He was lying. He was lying. He was lying, and it fucking bothered you.

You weren't bothered by the act of lying, per se, but the fact that the pair of you had to lie; the fact that even after a decade, old wounds were still festering; the fact that you knew your feelings for him to be authentic while his were feigned, forced, being effortlessly lied about.

You glanced at Regina, seeing her talking with animation to Bucky's publicist, Gale, and his manager, Toby; as well as your own manager, Darcy, who appeared enraptured with their phone. In a moment, you felt the flood of panic, unable to meet Regina's usually kind eyes; suddenly scanning around the red carpet in distraction as your ears whined a piercing noise. The lights flashed brighter, you suddenly felt hot and clammy; like anxiety's icy hand was creeping up your esophagus, stomach to throat. Your heart hammered, headache brewed, eyes glassy from a sudden wave of panic - and unknowingly, tightened your grip on Bucky's waist. He glanced down at you in concern.

"Uh, but you know, I think my favorite part of the whole experience was just, uh, you know - getting to spend time with this girl right here," Bucky answered the interviewer's question charmingly, hugging you tighter to his side. You were jolted back into reality, smiling and awh'ing at him sweetly as if listening; evident he had purposefully roped you back in. Your heart clenched at his kindness.

"What about you, Y/N?" The interviewer asked with a bright smile. "Any favorite moments from filming?"

"Oh, um, favorite? No, there's too many - well," you paused, relenting, "yeah, probably any scene I got to do with Jeremy, who plays my ex in the film. He's not entirely who you'd think fits in a romcom, so he pleasantly surprises you in this role. He was a blast to film with, just real easy going."

"Woah, hey," Bucky joked, looking offended but still petting his fleshy hand on your waist for comfort, "how could I not be your favorite part of filming?"

"Jeremy actually learned my coffee order," you reminded with a soft wince, watching Buck pause and then nod dramatically.

"No, no, she's got me there - I could never get it right," Bucky shrugged at the interviewer. "One day, though, I'll surprise her," he squeezed where he held you, his metal finger pointing into the camera, "and that's a promise."

"Oh, please," you chuckled, patting his chest. "I'd like to first see you get my breakfast order right - then we can move onto the more complicated coffee order."

"Okay, first, that's slanderous!" Bucky laughed, shifting his weight on the platform and making the woman interviewer perk up.

"Well, it seems the two of you had a great time on set, and so far from previews, it really shows! I can't wait to see it."

"Have fun tonight," you smiled, Bucky shifting towards the steps and offering both his hands to guide you down. He thanked her repeatedly as you stepped carefully in your heels, approaching Regina and Darcy the moment you were on the carpet again. "I can't - I can't fucking do this," you muttered to them inconspicuously; unaware of Bucky several yards away, listening to his team talk, but his gaze was locked worriedly on you.

"What? What? Can't do what?" Darcy asked, looking mildly alarmed; only then lowering their dinging iPhone.

"It's a lot right now, okay? I'm - I feel - there's just a lot," you tried to explain, voice warbling.

"What? You're, what, feeling anxious? Use your words."

"Yes, Darcy, fucking yes, I feel fucking anxious," you snapped, sighing through your nose; hand tight on Regina's wrist. She readjusted so you were both gripping each other's forearms. "Okay? There's a lot of fucking people and the interviews? Jesus, we're lying straight through our teeth - "

"So, just lie!"

"Darcy," Regina scolded, "let her speak."

"You two know James and I don't exactly get along. So you'll excuse me if lying about how much fun we had playing two idiots in love is giving me the fucking heebie-jeebies."

"Babe," Regina frowned when tears gathered in your eyes, fully aware of your feelings for the amputee, "just breathe, it's okay - "

"You literally lie for your job," Darcy scoffed with a shake of their head. "I don't get why now, all of a sudden, it's bothering you? You and Hugh Grant literally didn't speak a single word to each other outside of scenes when filming for Bridget Jones! Y'all went on to say you were best buds on set! But this is where the truth is gonna trip you up?"

"Oh, my fucking God."

"Yeah, 'oh, my fucking God', is right," Darcy sneered. "I need you to do at least three more interviews - then you can fuck off for all I care."

"There a reason you took extra bitchy pills this morning?" Regina scoffed, looking Darcy up and down with distain.

"No, fuck that, she's been difficult this entire film - "

"Oh, for the love of Christ, Darcy," Regina snarled, "she's not been difficult - she's human. Just because you're an emotionless cunt doesn't mean you get to shame and bully your client."

"Doubt I'm even their client after this," your head shook, finally locating a distant entrance. "Excuse me," you stepped around them and made an immediate beeline for the theater.

You heard shouts of your name, but didn't stop - instead, quickening your step to reach the theater sooner. The door was held open for you, letting you pass swiftly; ignoring the bewildered looks of employees and premier attendants as you hustled down the hall to the gender neutral restroom.

Shoving the door open, you gasped while stumbling onto the linoleum floors in towering heels and swirls of blue fabric feeling tangled around your legs. Your hands blindly and forcefully slapped to the marble countertop of the sink, holding your weight in either hand, pressure caught in your collarbones, trying to regulate your breath from the irregular pattern it developed during your hustle.

"Oh, this is - this is so stupid!" You scolded yourself, huffing and sniffling. "C'mon, girl... You're fine, this is nothing, you can handle it, you're not no bitch. Get your shit together, God, you're seriously this upset over a guy? Fuck's sake... Why?" You asked yourself in the mirror with a glare. "Huh? Why? Why're you so upset? Why're you so hung up on him? It's not like he-he-he lead you on! He's been clear from the beginning! And the sex wasn't even all that good!" But the deadpanned expression that stared back at you made you sigh and roll your eyes, "Yeah, okay, so it was mind blowing, whatever - point is, it's not worth getting this upset over."

You had to pause to take a breath, shaking your head as you continued talking to yourself in a dejected whisper, "Okay, so... You caught feelings. Big deal. You've been rejected by guys before, why is this one so different? Why does this hurt so much more?" The quake to your voice matched the tremble of your bottom lip. So, you answered yourself as a barrage of memories shot to the front of your mind and physically assaulted your brain like a bunch of bullies in an alleyway, "Because it felt real..."

You were the first on set.

Today's punctuality wasn't just good ethics but a direct result of your anxiety. You weren't worried about being late, you wanted to get there early to suss out the set, get a lay of the land, establish exit routes - or any means of privacy - should you need it, as well as privately meet with the intimacy coordinator, Maria, before anyone else got to set.

The director was next to arrive as you finished hair and make-up, wrapped in a robe with a pair of slippers warming your feet; sat beside you to go over a few ideas and logistics of the scene. It was all about being this bright, active, explosive, fiery, hot, passionate, borderline hateful cultivation of your character and Bucky's feud; where after a fight scene, you storm off to your room and he follows, the pair of you giving into your feelings and finally sleeping together.

The camera crew and lighting techs showed up next, ensuring everything was in place and ready to use.

The entire production had been rearranged due to the animosity, tension, and turmoil between you and Bucky the entire filming schedule. After months of bickering and irritation, this was the last piece of the movie puzzle, only reshoots thereafter, if necessary. Which made today all or nothing, where if you did this right, you'd only have to do it once. The resort you were shooting at provided a gigantic, gorgeously picturesque suite; which, in itself, was a blessing as it meant limited personnel in the room with you. So, after getting ready in a neighboring suite, where you were zipped into the same dress your character wore to a dramatic dinner scene, and waiting on the set-suite for Bucky to finish his primping. The techs showed you where the mics were and how the cameras would be angled.

Typically, shooting could be pretty go-go-go, but tonight was supposed to be easy, unrushed. First, you filmed the original fight scene to warm up - where Bucky chases after you and instigates the intimate scene. However, when the sun was lowering into position to sink, the director decided he wanted a couple of shots with the setting sun behind you; his artistic vision something you were meant to follow and not question.

"You good, doll?" Bucky checked as costumes were fixed and you both took your places. The idea was to meet in the middle of the sun shining into the camera; silhouettes taking form as the light was meant to disappear behind you, then reappear when you and Bucky fell into bed behind you.

"Yeah, uh, all good. You?"

"Perfect," he smirked, glancing at the crew. "We're moving at the same time, right?"

"Yep."

"Oh, so, uh, I'm thinking when we go back to the intro scene, we kinda lead into the bedroom? You know? Like, you come in, I follow, but you try to walk away and it leads us naturally towards the bed. That way, when we get to fuckin', it's a little more natural than before."

You just huffed, "You just have a way with words, don't you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you someone that prefers 'making love'?" He mocked with fluttering lashes.

"Fuck no, God, fucking gag me - that's such a cringy term," you scoffed quietly, looking towards the camera crew making their final readjustments.

Bucky eyed you for a moment, thinking those were his exact thoughts and feelings on the term, too. He sighed to himself as the director reminded, "This is just the kiss, then falling into bed - okay? - then we'll reset for the other bits. Yeah? Good? Everyone got it?"

"Good," Bucky agreed easily, you just nodding.

The director squinted to watch on his monitor as the sun hovered, calling action, and watching the two of you meet in frame from either side of the camera. You reached for each other and let your lips meet in an chaotic, highly-anticipated open-mouth kiss; his prosthetic arm curling around your waist as his fleshy one came up in view of the camera to slide from your jaw to the back of your head. Your hands fisted the front of his shirt in a show of desperation; one creeping up to hold his neck for balance as you felt his weight shift. You held on and gave a soft moan while toppling backwards onto the bed, out of frame; but held the position as Camera Two worked the angle from above. "And cut!"

When he pulled back, Bucky's eyes were alight with something you couldn't decipher; breathing the same air for several moments before he was sitting up and helping you do the same. You reset with dampening tear-away panties, tingling lips, and heavy lungs.

You did that kiss twice more to make the most of the sun's position before it was gone; using the authentic change of colors to curate a more romantic aesthetic. You and Bucky agreed the colors of the sunset was a much better look... So, you did the kiss another three times. When satisfied, the techs rest to film the whole of the scene, sending your heart catapulting from chest to throat. Bucky appeared easy, even excited, which for some unspoken reason, really irritated you.

How dare he enjoy this when he was usually an unbearable jackass that made your life more difficult for sport.

First, you were to storm into your room alone, a look of furious defeat marring your expression. Bucky's catches your door, follows you in to defend himself, "Hey! You don't get to insult my character and just walk away! What the hell's going on with you, why're you so upset? We had a deal, we agreed to act like we're together for the sake of this wedding. Now, you've been at my throat this whole time, you refuse to have a civil conversation unless in front of others - it's almost like you're repulsed by my very being here. I'm sorry if that's what's going on, but my best mate is marrying the love of his life this weekend and I'm going to stand at his side! You're going to have to find a way to be okay with that."

He stood in the foyer of your suite as you whipped around to snarl, "I'm okay with you being my brother-in-law's best man, I really am. I'm okay with us being at this wedding, I can fake getting along, being a couple, whatever, that's no problem. But I'm not the one who's been outright malicious! I'm not the one throwing thinly-veiled insults in front of your family!" You let tears fill your eyes, Bucky appearing genuinely disarmed as he took a step forward. Your character was notorious for being something akin to a shrew; but now, in this moment, proving to still be 'just a girl', who had feelings and would cry if she wanted to. "You know what? I wouldn't expect you to understand - so just - just get out of here, go back to dinner, there's nothing left to say - "

"You really piss me off, you know that?"

"Oh, my God! Did you seriously follow me back to my room to continue a fight I already walked away from?" You snarled, tossing your shoes from your feet. "Take a hint and go away. Please. You've done enough for the night."

"You know, you always do this. When shit gets real, you'd rather run away than deal with it!" He followed you closer to the living quarters of the suite, as planned.

"You don't get to say that when you don't even know me!"

"That's where you're wrong! I do know you!" Bucky barked, reaching for your arm to turn you around to face him; releasing his hold when you yanked your arm back with a brewing look of betrayal. "I know you're stubborn and insolent, defensive and reactive. I know you don't give second chances because one is enough, I know you're passionate and criminally independent, that you don't take direction too well because you have issue with authority." His voice softened an octave and the words felt all too real; like it was truly Bucky speaking, "I know you love your family and would do anything to protective them, including agreeing to be my date to this wedding just to give your sister peace of mind for her big day. I know that even when I think I've found a way to cope with admiring the hell out of a woman who despises me, I fuck up and say something I shouldn't. Which I also know, can rightfully set you off. I also know I had one of the best times on our date, before things imploded, and that I've finally met my match - if even just for this week."

"Think that means you know everything about me, then?" You breathed, locked onto his baby blues like a bear trap had hold of your soul.

"I only know one thing for certain."

"What?"

"That I really want to kiss you right now."

There was supposed to be no hesitation in your surge into his chest - so, there wasn't. Knowing you had this shot already and much was to be edited, you and Bucky rushed for one another; clashing in the middle; all teeth, tongue, and spit before toppling into bed. From there, it was a frenzy.

Clothes were ripped off - sending buttons and fabric all around the room. Mics picked up every single sound, no matter how soft or gruff. Soft linen sheets were rumpled and mused, pillows flattened. Hands slapped skin in the search for purchase, lips grazed sensitive flesh not regularly touched, hair stuck to tacky skin, and hips ground into one another like a couple of horny teens. Maria called encouragement, the two of you taking the cues to roll over so you were on top, but still in Bucky's cradle. Every position assumed, Bucky was all consuming; warm, safe, embracing, supportive, glorious.

It went on for several hours; the rutting and kissing and moaning and feigning. It was exactly what they wanted: bright, active, explosive, fiery, hot, passionate. Bucky's body was impressive and it was hard to ignore, causing your skin to flush with ecstasy, mouth to water, and fingers to linger. Your moans turned authentic. Sweat beaded from legit exertion. Everything felt magnified and doubled; legs spread to hold his bare hips against yours, breathing harsher when all you could focus on was the feel of Bucky's bulging cock rubbing into your soaking slit. You swore his own stuttered breathing and moans were as real as yours - but who could tell.

When the director called cut, Maria told you to stay put. You kept the sheet around your chest and dropped back to the pillows, Bucky sitting forward with the sheet around his lap in an attempt to give you both a little room.

"You all right?" He mumbled, shuffling over a little before leaning back himself. You tried not to notice how he didn't deflate, never relaxed; as if cautious to invade your space all of a sudden.

"Yeah, still good. You?"

"I'm good, doll," he smirked. "Kinda warm, no?"

"I'll say," you mumbled, swiping the moisture from your hairline, missing his grin - as if he had caught you in a confession. And perhaps he did, since the air conditioning was on and blasting like in most hotel suites; the pair of you heated from the obvious horniness you were flushed with.

The director wanted a few extra shots of you two in bed; naked, revealing tantalizing skin in provocative poses. You were to look soft, content, in love, docile and blissed; so, you gave it to them Goddamnit. You loathed to admit how easy it was to look at Bucky in such a manner; he was funny, making you grin and crack a few jokes in return, the camera eating it up. You spoke of past jobs and vacations while lounging against one another; discussed fears during a game of Thumb War; compared hand sizes and workout routines; then had more lighthearted familial conversations, such as holiday traditions, while you were balanced bare on top of his equally naked body.

From each position, you were encouraged to nuzzle the other; to kiss; share delicate touches that some how felt more intimate than filming any sex scene.

The director wanted two new camera angles of your intimacy after watching the playback; you and Bucky shuffling into new positions as the cameras were mounted. This provided ample view of your faces whilst rolling around in your romp; looking into one another's eyes as Bucky mimicked thrusting, your hands in his hair, of the concentrated expressions you were both to don. There were better shots of your tangled hands, of the way two individuals melded into one secular entity; of slippery lips forming varying levels and pitches of gasps, moans, and groans that the mics soaked up.

It all looked so real. It all felt so real.

For a moment, the director praised himself on his decision to hold off filming these intimate scenes until the end; watching an authentic cultivation of your real and faked hatred coming together on camera.

It was over with several hours to spare until dawn when few reshoots would begin filming, thankfully being mostly family scenes that didn't involve you and Bucky. If there were any, it was truly because it was necessary - the crew having been overly cautious about getting the scenes they needed the first time to spare everyone the annoyance of enduring another day on set with you and Bucky. The director and Maria watched the footage several times to make sure they had enough footage, granting approval that everything was in good shape and you were free to go.

While Bucky hesitated a moment, you accepted your robe from Maria and scurried to the neighboring suite you had dressed in. You were overwhelmed, confused, annoyed, and horny - so very horny that your immediate first action was to unlace your robe to use the lapels to fan yourself. You sought out the bathroom and grabbed several towels, yelping in shock when the front door slammed shut. Yanking the fluffy material closed, you called, "What is it, Maria? What do you need? What's wrong?"

"It's me," Bucky's voice answered, making your head pop out of the bathroom - only to rear back when Bucky was striding inward.

"Do they need us for something else?" You asked cautiously, holding your robe closed with tight hands.

"No. No, I just... Tell me to leave and I'll leave," he breathed, taking a slow step into your space, "but I really hope you don't because I can't stop thinking about you and tonight - tonight was exactly what I had thought would happen between us."

"Gave the writers your dream journal, did'jah?" You couldn't help but tease. His lips spread.

"More like my actual journal," he shot back, catching you off guard, "'cause I can't get you out of my head, it's fucking with me, doll."

"If you're here to charge me rent for living in your head, you've got another thing comin' 'cause that's a personal problem. Now I need a shower, why're you here, Bucky - what do you want? Use your big boy words."

"I want to fuck you."

"There it is," you seethed, reaching for his own robe to yank him closer until his lips were on yours. And his hands, they didn't know where to touch you - be it your face, arms, ribs, waist, hips, thighs, ass, he was everywhere. Bucky's cock was still hot and heavy against his stomach, snugly between you as he backed you into the counter. But you pushed him back upon feeling him trying to untie his robe, rushing, "Wait, wait, hang on a second, Buck - "

"Shit, I'm sorry," he immediately stepped back, now tugging the tie tighter, "I-I got a little, uh, y-you know..."

"It's okay," you assured, stepping into his chest, taking hold of his wrists in both hands, "hey, you're okay. I was just gonna say wait because I'm not fucking you here where anyone can interrupt us." Before he could answer, you offered, "Give me twenty minutes and meet back at my place?"

He nodded with a softer smirk, hands confidently holding your waist to keep you pressed against him. "Yeah, doll, 'course. I didn't mean to rush you."

"You didn't, Bucky, you aren't. It's okay."

Bucky smirked and kissed you sweetly, holding you by the waist with one hand, the smoothing over the back of your head. After letting you go, he watched you change into whatever you wore to set and grab your belongings, drop a wink, and head for the door. He couldn't help but call after you, "Twenty minutes, doll, I'm setting a timer!"

You laughed before the door shut.

One of the perks of filming at destination resorts was staying there, too. You took the first elevator to the lobby and dialed your best friend as you hustled towards your resident building. When they answered, you instantly unloaded instead of a standard greeting, "Bucky and I are about to fuck and I'm kinda freaking out!"

"Oh, thank fucking God, it's about time!"

"You can gloat later, help me now."

Twenty exact minutes passed in a flurry of reminders to use mouthwash now so it didn't taste like you were trying too hard, advice on what to wear (being just panties and a hotel robe), topped off with your best mate telling you their secrets to irresistible blowjobs. When Bucky knocked at the door, your friend screamed in a rush, "Good luck - have fun - put that emergency Plan B I packed for you to work - oh, oh, protect your cervix - and call me after - I want details! Remember to spit - "

You hung up and left your phone on the side table, scurrying for the door before you could overthink it; Bucky swooping in with the opening door, reaching his hands for both your cheeks to kiss you feverishly. He paused you to let the door slam and blindly set the bolt before crowding you into the wall. You never had time to let your anxiety set, Bucky was all you could comprehend - and my, oh, my - what a delicious infection to take over your mind, body, and soul.

Distracted by the tickle to your palms from dragging them down his cheeks, in shock, you gasped sharply into his mouth when his hands seized behind either thigh to hoist you up his body. You were able to bask in his strength, feeling his arms bulge from strain just as much as you felt his cock bulge from arousal in his jeans. Wet tongues slid against each other to dance a sinful tango as your hands seared into any flushed flesh you could grab, legs locked around his waist to keep balance as he walked to the bed. He playfully dropped you on the mattress, holding himself upright and eyeing the peak of material covering your cunt when your bent legs shifted. Bucky grinned and glanced down at himself, starting to work on the buttons of his shirt from top-to-bottom.

"You changed?" You smiled, sitting up to reach out and maneuver him to the bed so you could take over his state of undress.

"I thought I might take you out first," he admitted, "but then I remembered it's the middle of the night and nowhere's open."

Your heart might've thawed slightly at his endearing effort, yet choose not to comment. You revealed his abs and chest at long last, dipping down to press your mouth in a trail of wet and sloppy kisses from his neck, over his pectorals, and the ridges of his ripped stomach - relishing in the feeling of their contraction when your kisses turned more deliberate and sensual. Fingers nimbly began working on the button and zipper of his jeans, hearing his feet kick off his shoes in time for you to begin wrestling the garments down his hips.

Bucky sat up, crooning, "Hey, hey, hold on." This time, you froze, fearing you did something wrong, but his smile was soft and his hand warm on your jaw. He held you still to bring his lips to yours, controlling the tempo into something slow, easy, and delicately emotional. You matched his energy, just enjoying the feeling of kissing him without the added frenzy of the impending intimacy. He paused, lips hovering over yours, whispering, "As much as I need to fuck you, doll, we got time... I plan on taking my time with you."

It was sentimental. Raw. Pure. Unexpected and intimidating.

Fucking Bucky was nothing short of pornographic; the man built like a mountain, cut like a boulder, and hung like a horse, yet still so fluid that everything he did felt intimate and emotional. Like it was truly to the two of you finding home in the other; two lost pieces of a puzzle, reunited, fitting together to create an image of euphoria. He was dedicated to your comfort, insistent on your pleasure, adamant about your orgasms; able to take direction, but not needing it, motivated by evidence of your bodily pleasure; emboldened, driven, invigorated by any inkling of your enjoyment. It was all you wanted and exactly what you needed, encouraging the pair of you through multiple rounds, positions, and orgasms.

To your shock and astute pleasure, Bucky was the kind to engage in pillow talk. He laid on his back, hand behind his head, other idly toying with your hair or tracing patterns on your skin as he asked questions or answered yours. It was easy. It was simple. It was effortless and disarming. Arguably, it had been one of the best sessions of your life due to Bucky taking his time in discovering the way your body ticked instead of just chasing his own nut like plenty of other lovers. He seemed satisfied. Content. Even cozy in your bed. You thought you could grow accustomed the sight of his bare chest and stubbly smile from this angle, curled against his hairy leg with your mouth dangerously close access to his perpetually stiff member.

Like a fool, you thought this was a break through in your relationship - be it professional or personal, you didn't care. You just felt the tides shift, for the wind to change; something warming your heart and pleasantly churning your stomach. Dawn broke and you had dozed into a nap on your costar's chest; not due on set for your shoots until early afternoon, able to get a couple hours under your belt after not getting a wink all night. Bucky laid under you, soothingly letting his fingernails scratch into the slope of your spine, both content to just exist in your bubble for a while longer. However, when you awoke to your alarm, it was to an empty bed, chilly sheets, no note, no evidence another person had even been there.

You should've known better...

"Because it felt real," you trailed off in a broken whisper, laughing cruelly at yourself as a manicured finger lifted to swipe under your nose and remove the first traces of snot. "Because I thought it was real for him as it was me..." A scoff coughed from your lungs, "I thought we had a breakthrough of sorts, like-like-like an understanding. I thought he saw me, finally... But it was all a lie, wasn't it?" You sniffled, bending at the waist to rest your elbows on the counter and hold your face in hands.

Behind you, the door suddenly burst open, ricocheting into the wall - causing you to gasp shrilly and whip around in shock. Bucky stood there panting, looking bewildered and confused, soon wincing when he clocked your state of shock he caused. "Shit, sorry, sorry, doll, I was - I didn't mean - I-I-I was worried and thought something was wrong - "

"So, you came barging into the bathroom like a madman!?" You snapped, hand to your chest - clutching methaporicnhal pearls.

"Yeah, you know, not my best moment, but I was worried," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I really didn't mean to frighten you, I was a little hopped up after talking to Regina - "

"Okay, okay, James! You know what? Just - for fuck's sake, please, please, can you just leave, leave me alone - can you please just go!? Get outta here, please. I'll be out in a minute, just leave me alone." You were trying too hard to stop this - to stop the way your heart fluttered and stomach sank, to stop your emotions from being real, to stop your mind from conjuring his all too perfect face at inopportune times - so, of course, the universe had to send the very bane of your existence after you during an anxiety attack.

You needed to be alone. You needed to be alone to cry it out. You needed to be alone to cry it out and breathe.

"No," Bucky answered sternly.

"'No'?"

"No. You're obviously not okay and I can't just leave knowing you're this upset. Look, hate me later, but I'm not leaving you alone right now."

Your head shook, a sardonic smile blooming brightly; giving a sort of disbelieving chuckle. "Seriously? Of all people? You? Fucking you? You don't even like me, so why're you really here, James? The fuck do you want?"

"All right, down girl, I come in peace," he couldn't help but snap; defensive that his act of valor was under such scrutiny.

"Yeah? If that's the truth, then remove yourself, please. You don't need to be here, interrupting my search for said peace."

"Why is it so hard to believe I'm here out of legitimate concern?"

"Because you don't think about anyone but yourself."

"Okay, ouch - "

"Just stop, please okay? I'm not tryna fight, James, I don't want to do this, all right?" You cried without letting any tears fall down your cheeks, beyond frazzled in that moment. "I don't want to do any of this, actually - this whole bloody premier, the interviews, all the pictures! People lying, people yelling!"

"Okay, okay, just take a breath, sweetheart, hey, hey." He took a cautious step towards you, "Why's tonight making you feel this way? Huh? What's going on? You've done premiers before, what's different about tonight?" He asked softly, seeing the tears surface again, how your hands couldn't stay still anymore. You began to pace in front of the sink; cracking, threading, unthreading, twiddling, and twirling your fingers.

"You! It's fucking you, James!"

"Bucky," he corrected stiffly with a sigh of disappointment, keeping himself still to watch you pace with words caught in your throat. He didn't push you, somewhat afraid of getting his head bitten off again.

"It's just you," you continued as if he hadn't spoke. "I honestly don't know what I did to make you hate me to this extent, but I can't stand it - especially after everything! I mean, I know, I get it, sleeping together shouldn't have meant anything - but I guess you're just a better actor than I am! There, okay? I said it, you're so much better than me because I-I can't just pretend and lie about what happened between us - not us, not this time! And I hate that it's fucking with me this bad, but it's everything right now, okay? It's the matching outfits and the touching - so much fucking touching, James, for fuck's sake! I know we're supposed to be posing for photos and playing this role of two people who actually like one another, but holy fuck, it's so much touching - so many photos, so many questions, so much recollection, all these memories, and so much lying - I fucking hate that we're lying about us - "

"Hey, hey, hey," Bucky soothed, suddenly materializing in front of you and holding both your arms, but let go when you reared back, "woah, hey, listen - listen to me, I don't hate you. It's quite the opposite, doll, but you need to take a breath, please, try to-to-to calm down, and I know you're not supposed to tell women that, but I don't know what else to say right now. Just - Just pause for me, doll. Listen, it's not lying for me, all right? It's not lying, it's me using wishful thinking as a coping mechanism 'cause it bothers me, too."

"W-What?" You put some distance between you again by stepping back into the furthest corner of where marble counter met wall. Exhaustion pitted your bones, hollowing them; adrenaline flooding your system after your anxiety made you feel defenseless. Tears fell without thought or realization. You needed to breathe.

Bucky's eyes were soft, his brows crinkled in concern, lips gently twitching before speaking, "I just, I realized how fucking rude I've been to you - I mean, it shouldn't matter that you never called, I could've! You know? Phone's work both ways, so, I just started thinking how much of a dick I've been - "

"What're you talking about?" You asked, tears slowing but still dribbling. "J-James, what're you talking about, I didn't call? Why would I have called you? You left me! You left. That was a pretty clear message to send."

His brows now hooked towards his nose in confusion, "What do you mean, I left?"

"After we slept together."

"Oh, baby, you think I skipped out on you?" He watched you nod meekly, breathing out, "Nah, nah, nah, I went to get us breakfast and coffee..." He purred, taking a slow step towards you, "But when I got back, you were already gone, on set. I thought you'd leave a note, but you didn't, so I didn't really think to linger in your hotel suite. I thought maybe you'd call or text me when you got back, but when you didn't, I figured you were busy and waited, then that you regretted us being together."

"Wait... Wait, wait, wait, what? Hold on, y-you went to get us...? Hold on, what? I'm still playing catch up."

Bucky stood in front of you, gently pulling you from the corner just to lean in the middle of the marble with his hands warm on your waist and ribs.

"Yeah," Bucky grins, "I went to get us breakfast. Toasted plain bagel with eggs - scrambled, of course - uh, extra cheese, and you prefer bacon to pork sausage, but only if it's extra crispy and if they don't offer turkey sausage. You like either maple syrup or Sriracha," Bucky's hands flexed to a sudden bruising grip, hoisting you onto the counter, "depending on your mood." You were stunned into silence, heart pounding; allowing him to hike your dress skirt over your thighs, then spread them only so he could stand between them, "And of course, you like both hot and iced mocha lattes equally with regular cream and sugar. Because you don't trust all baristas to get your portions right, you like keeping additional cream and sugar on hand in case it's not enough - which is why you think your coffee is complicated, because you go based on taste instead of color or measurement."

Your smile was genuine, curling your hand under his jaw to caress tantalizing stubble; holding around his neck and shoulders to remain close. You hushed, "I know that shouldn't impress me, but it does..."

"As long as you stop crying, baby, c'mon," he whined gently, "I can't stand the sight."

You nodded and sniffled, looking down as your foreheads met; gently fiddling with his diamond-crusted lapels. "For the record?" You whispered, noses nuzzling, "I don't regret it..."

"Good," he matched your tone, "'cause I don't either. But I do regret how I've treated you... I'm really sorry, doll. Maybe if I wasn't such a dickhead, we could've had these last 6 months together, huh?"

"Probably not, weren't you on location?" You snickered, caressing his cheek and keeping his forehead on yours as your tears dried and reality came back into hand.

"Oh, like you weren't?" He smirked. "Hey, I gotta question for you."

"Hm?"

"Can I take you to dinner? Please? You know, do this properly? We kinda skipped some steps."

You pulled back to look at him, laughing, "Could I clean the mascara off my face before you ask me out?"

"What mascara?"

"Oh, please - "

"Nah, seriously, baby, you look perfect, I promise, whatever Jessie used 's gotta be waterproof," he grinned, hand reaching up to hold your cheek sweetly, thumb sweeping away tear tracks.

"How do you know my make-up artist?"

"I might follow them on Instagram," he shrugged casually, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, I know this great pizza place, right?"

"Uh-huh...?"

"And I think you'll love it. C'mon, baby, lemme take you there."

"Where is it?"

"Not... That... Far..."

"What does that mean? Bucky, what're you plotting?"

"So, the pizza place, right? I found it when we were filming with Ridley - "

"Bucky."

"So, it's technically in Rome - but - "

"Oh, my God, who are you? Pete Becker? Are you binging FRIENDS, again? Hell no - "

"Hear me out!"

"We're not going to Italy!"

"Hang on, just listen to me, baby, okay?" He purred, gripping your hips in a bruising grip to drag you to the edge, "Let's get this premier done, right? And after, you and me go to the airport - I'll have my people get us tickets, Regina can grab your passport, you know? And let's just get away for a little bit - you even said you've never been to the Amalfi Coast."

You laughed sarcastically, "Yeah, okay, sure."

"You think I'm joking?"

"A little bit."

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you to suppress his own grin; lapping his tongue against yours before pulling back. "Just say yes, doll, c'mon, lemme make up for being a dickhead, huh?" He pleaded quietly.

You hummed, kissing him again, answering against his lips, "Yes, to all of it."

"Yes?"

"Yes - " You squealed in laughter when Bucky surged forward to kiss you again, this time, out of sheer relief, pure joy, and unrestricted excitement.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Okay but imagine Bucky being the little spoon for the first time 💕

Bucky was touch-avoidant at first.

You'd known that since your first date.

And you could hardly blame him for it. Positive human contact wasn't something he'd had much of in his life. At least, not for the last few decades. Not only had HYDRA left scars on his body and mind, but there were some etched so deeply in his soul that he thought they'd never heal. Ones that left him freezing up every time a hand reached out to him, terrified that it would cause him pain.

It had taken him months to do something as innocent as hold your hand.

And even longer for you to stop hating yourself after an attempt to touch his face had him flinching away from you.

(He knew you would never hurt him, he'd told you, but it broke your heart to know that he was so used to pain that an open hand coming towards his face had him expecting to get hit.)

You were more than willing to go at his pace, to take things as slowly as he needed. Bucky never understood why you stayed with someone who shied away from human contact, but you did. You were there for him through every therapy session, every night he woke up screaming, offering him words of comfort, a cup of tea, and the knowledge that he wasn't suffering alone. You were more than okay with taking as much as he was willing to give, never pushing his boundaries. You made him feel good, made him feel safe. He never dreamed he would say that about someone again.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he began to let you in. It started with holding your hand, then letting you lay on his shoulder while you watched TV, little kisses on the cheek and quick hugs, letting you play with his hair, eventually graduating to full-on cuddling and sharing a bed. Now he welcomed you sitting on his lap or laying on his chest, always holding you as close as physically possible.

Bucky loved you more than he could ever put into words, you were his anchor, his guiding light, his everything. You saw him for who he was, all of his scars and walls and edges, and you still wanted him. Still loved him. And that meant the world to him.

However, as the two of you got closer, you noticed one thing was becoming increasingly obvious:

He was deeply touch-starved.

Now that he welcomed human contact again, you noticed that Bucky almost always wanted it. He pulled you into his arms the second you came home from work, rarely letting you go. If you two were sitting on the couch together, you were immediately nestled against him, your head on his shoulder. He'd lay on your lap sometimes when you watched a movie together, dosing off with his arm wrapped around your legs as you ran your fingers through his hair. At night you really didn't even need your pillow anymore, Bucky's chest was more comfortable.

And this wasn't something you had a problem with.

Hell, if you had it your way you would never leave his arms.

But still, you want to do more for him. To give him the safety and comfort that you get from him holding you every moment of the day.

Which brings you to tonight.

It started like any other night, the two of you cuddled up under a blanket watching TV until you started to nod off. Bucky carrying you to the bedroom when you dramatically insisted you were to tired to walk the whole 25 feet at most, and the two of you getting ready for bed. But when he laid down beside you and reached out to pull you to his chest and hold you to sleep like he did every night, you stopped him.

"Hey, let's try something different tonight," you smiled softly. Bucky nodded, looking at you with concerned, nervous eyes. You opened your arms, "c'mere, Baby."

He cocked an eyebrow, but still awkwardly shifted towards you. You wrapped him in a hug, pulling him close to you and cradling his head against your chest.

Bucky tensed in your embrace. For all his romantic exploits in the 40s, this was entirely new to him. He had always been the big spoon, the one cuddling his dates. He was the man, it's what was expected of him. And it's not that he hated it. It was nice, having someone curled against him, their head on his chest, knowing they finding safety and security in in his arms. It made him happy. And falling asleep and waking up with you in his arms, nestled against his chest while he played with your hair or rubbed your back brought him peace like he'd never felt before.

But this?

Being wrapped in your arms, enveloped in your warmth, your heartbeat steady and soothing in his ear as you played with his hair?

It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

He slowly started to relax, every one of his muscles starting to unknot as you held him.

"Does this feel good, Sweetheart?" You kissed the top of his head. Bucky nodded and nuzzled his face deeper into your chest, his stubble tickling your skin, "good, Buck. I like helping you feel good."

Your free hand started rubbing large soothing circles into his back, and it was everything Bucky could do to keep from breaking down right then and there.

No one had been this gentle with him in a long time.

No one had ever been this gentle with him, if he was being honest.

He didn't notice he was crying until the hand in his hair moved down to his face, thumbing away the tears on his cheek.

"What's wrong, Bucky?" You asked, "are you okay? Do you want me to stop--"

"No!" He responded, a little too quickly, "no, it's not... These are good tears. No one's ever held me like this and I just... It feels good, Doll. You feel good."

You hold him a little tighter and kiss his forehead, your thumb still stroking his cheek.

"You deserve to feel good, Bucky," you whisper into his hair, "I'm glad I can give you some comfort."

He slowly drifted off as you held him, safe and warm and content.

[urdepressedslut]

I Get Scared Too

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You have a close call during a mission, and back at the compound Bucky seems to be distant and cold towards you.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, reader injury, mentions of gunfire, hints to anxiety attack

A/N: this idea was from a dream i had (im a lucid dreamer). i have been writing in a dream journal since elementary school, so you can imagine the dreams i have jotted down 😭

The mission hadn’t gone to plan, shocker, but everyone kept all their limbs and were able to walk back to the quinjet.

You had a close call, you didn’t see the previously passed out agent sitting back up raising his gun to your back. Obviously before he could fire somewhere vital, Natasha had taken him down, faltering his aim. Although the bullet had skimmed you deep on your hip.

It was hardly life threatening, but Natasha being a protective best friend, scolded you for being reckless. You knew her intentions were good, and that she cared about you, but it didn’t stop you from being annoyed at her treating you like a kid.

She eventually walked to the other side of the quinjet, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought you had done really well, taking down twice as many enemies than last time. But of course, everyone always focused on your flaws, what you had done wrong.

When the quinjet finally landed back at the compound, you were the first one out, having a slight limp from the discomfort in your hip. But otherwise didn’t mind it, you wanted to find your favorite person and tell them all about the mission.

“FRIDAY, where’s Bucky?” You called out to the air once you were inside.

“Bucky is currently in his room, Miss (Y/n).” She announced, making you smile in excitement.

The mission had only been a three day trip, but you had missed him the second you stepped on the quinjet.

Arriving at his door, you knocked three times, hearing shuffling from inside. The door swung open to reveal an unhappy looking Bucky, causing your smile to waver. Assuming he was just having a bad day, you smiled wider and stepped forward to hug him.

“Hi Buck, I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest, squeezing him tighter when you didn’t feel him hug back.

His body tensed, and immediately you released him and stepped back. You were confused at what was wrong, his face was cold. You were hurt that he hadn’t hugged you back, wondering if you had done something to make him mad.

“Missed ya too um... You should go (Y/n).” He spoke finally, his voice holding annoyance.

You blinked up at him and shook your head, fully confused now.

“Buck wha— what’s going on?” You asked hesitantly, anxious that Bucky was being so short with you so suddenly and you didn’t know why.

“Nothing, I just wanna be alone.” He told you, and your heart broke for two reasons.

One, the thought of Bucky having an episode and you weren’t here for him made your heart hurt.

And two, he always came to you when he was upset and the fact that he didn’t want you with him… It stung.

You stared at him as your eyes started to water, your bottom lip starting to quiver. Your heart ached, but you wanted to respect his need for space. You didn’t know what else to say, and considering the lump forming in your throat, you decided to keep it short.

“Alright yeah, of course. I’ll… See you at dinner then.” You told him, watching him retreat back into his room and slam the door, making you flinch.

You were frozen in place, staring at the door expecting him to come back out and tell you it was all a prank. But several minutes passed and you were still staring at the door.

_____________________

You pushed the food around on your plate, keeping your eyes casted down. You had tried to get Bucky's attention, ever since you watched with glossy eyes as he passed his usual seat next to you, and instead sat at the other end of the table. He was avoiding your direction and never attempted to make eye contact.

Bucky giving you the cold shoulder, being silent with you was extremely painful. Considering how well you two communicated and talked, you were the one who had brought him out of his shell. It hurt so bad your chest ached physically.

Out of nowhere, you were slamming your fork down on the plate with a loud clank, causing everyones attention to snap to you.

"What's the matter with you cupcake?" Tony asked you, taking a sip from his wine glass.

Feeling embarrassed from everyones stares, you snuck a glance at Bucky at the end of the table, surprised when you met his concerned eyes.

You scoffed, shaking your head in bewilderment. He had no right to act concerned, after ignoring you. You almost felt bad for him, thinking he was having a bad day, but after you watched him chatter playfully at dinner with everyone, you realized it was only you he didn't want to speak to.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/n)!?" Tony announced, banging on the table to get your attention when he noticed you spacing out.

Everyone was concerned about you by now, all watching you carefully. You glared at Bucky and stood up without answering Tony, pushing your chair back and quickly exiting the dining room.

"Must be her time of the month." Tony mumbled, earning a slap to the back of the head from the redhead next to him. "Ow... What?!"

"Shut up Tony." Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Bucky and giving him a 'What did you do' look.

_____________________

Laying in bed on your side, you pulled the blanket tighter to your chest with a sniffle. You began to turn over on your other side when your hip throbbed painfully at the movement. The waves of pain had your body shuttering, your eyes filling with fresh tears, rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You blamed your tears on your hip pain, but all the emotions you’d piled up since you’d gotten back from the mission was weighing on you now.

Light knocks sounded from your door, causing you to tense up and turn your back to the door. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, especially if it was him.

“(Y/n)? I know you heard me.” Natasha muttered, opening the door, letting herself in.

“What do you want Nat?” You snapped, not meaning to take out your frustrations on her.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on? Your little scene downstairs has everyone worried.” She told you, earning a scoff from you, still refusing to face her.

“It’s nothing.” You sighed, wishing she could leave so you could attempt to sleep your issues away.

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” She retorted, huffing in annoyance when you stayed silent.

You were staring at the wall, biting your lip, trying to hold in your built up emotions. Too busy to notice Natasha whispering to another person entering the room. It was when you felt the edge of the bed behind you dip down that snapped your attention back.

“Hey doll,” Bucky greeted, “How’s your hip?”

You twisted your body back facing his worried form, but your eyebrows were furrowed on how he even knew about your injury.

“How did you…”

“Nat told me.”

Rolling your eyes, you were cursing under your breath. Throwing the blanket over your head in attempt to hide.

Your blanket cocoon was quickly ripped away by Bucky, pulling the blanket all the way down below your knees. His eyes dancing around your bandaged hip, clenching his jaw at the red seeping through the white gauze.

“(Y/n), is your hip feeling okay? Do we need to change it—“

“I’m fine!” You snapped, “Now go away.”

You we’re looking everywhere but his eyes, knowing you’d break down if you saw the disappointment in them.

Bucky was taken a back, but he couldn’t be all that angry when he’d brought all this on himself. He just got into this weird headspace when he’d heard the mission report, hearing that you’d been hurt. He realized it wasn’t fatal, but he didn’t like seeing his girl hurt at all. He realized he took it a little too far, he didn’t mean to make you upset the way he did. He’d shut you out and he felt like his old self when he’d first arrived at the compound again. Anxious and closed off, pushing you away when he really wanted to pull you into his arms and tell you how much he loves you.

“Doll, talk to me.” He practically begged, his metal arm whirring, having to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” You rushed out, your voice louder than you intended it to be, “Is it because I messed up on the mission? A-are you disappointed in me or something? Huh?”

Your chest was rising and falling in a fast rhythm, your mind going haywire at the possibilities of why Bucky was suddenly indifferent with you. Your throat felt like it was tightening up.

Bucky stayed silent, his heart hurting, feeling terrible for making you feel this way.

You couldn’t stop your mind from producing the awful thoughts, and like a switch had been flipped, the dam inside of you cracked. The tears wouldn’t stop, your sobs painful sounding

“Is it… Is it because you— I— Do you not love m-me anymore?” You wheezed out.

Bucky snapped out of his silent trance, his hands cupping your face, brushing away the tear streaks.

“Baby no…” He hushed, trying to stop your mind from torturing yourself.

“I’m so sorry Buck, I-I love you so much and I…” You hiccuped, “If I did something— If I’m not good enough—“

“No Doll hey… Stop that,” He cooed, “You haven’t done anything wrong, okay?”

“Bu-but you…”

“I know baby, I’ve been a dick. I shouldn’t of shut you out like that I was just… I was scared.” Bucky confessed, your tears and breathing slowing down, you sitting silent besides the occasional hiccup.

“I still… I don’t understand?” You thought out loud.

Bucky breathed heavily, swallowing the forming lump in his throat. He scooted closer to you, pulling your form closer to him, and you let him.

“(Y/n), you have no idea how scared I was when I heard you had gotten hurt.” He started, watching your face soften at his wavering voice.

“Buck, I’m okay though.” You reassured him, grabbing his palms, rubbing your thumb comfortingly over the back of his hand.

“I know baby, but… I couldn’t help but think if you got hurt on a mission and—“ He panted out, “And you didn’t make it.”

Your heart ached at the pain laced in his words, him holding onto your hands in a desperate grip.

“Buck..”

“I know that doesn’t give me an excuse to be a dick to you I… I just get into this headspace every time you are headed back from a mission, when I’m waiting to hear that you’re alright and… When I heard you had gotten hurt— I just assumed the worst.” He finished.

The disappointment was clear on his face, but it wasn’t directed toward you, it was directed to himself.

You understood that he meant no harm, and you felt incredibly bad that he suffered so much while you were gone, you thought it was the other way around. You felt extremely loved in a sense, feeling lucky enough to have someone worry as deep as he did for you.

“Buck, you should’ve just told me how you were feeling from the start. You know I’d listen,” You paused, doubt clouding your thoughts, “You still trust me enough to talk to me… Right?”

Bucky immediately nodded his head, cupping your face, hearing your faltering voice.

“Of course I do baby, I trust you with my life.” He reassured you, “I don’t know why I got like that.”

“I know why,” You started, cradling his face, watching him snuggle his cheek deeper into your palm, “You have a good heart, and sometimes having a good heart can be overwhelming, because you can care so much about something.”

“I don’t want a good heart if it’s going to make me act that way.” He whispered sadly, lowering his eyes.

“That’s the thing about having a good heart,” You lifted his head slightly so his eyes met yours, “Its not something you can just change, it’s a part of you.”

He gazed from each eye, to your lips, then back up to your eyes, mesmerized by your beauty and soul. How could you be so forgiving and caring towards him?

“I���m so sorry I shut you out (Y/n), I love you and I will never do something like that again.” He promised, lifting and pulling you into his lap, curling his arms around your frame. Sitting his chin on top of your head.

You snuggled your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around him protectively.

“It’s okay Buck, I get scared too.”

[maivolpe]

I'm giggling rn what if reader and bucky go on a mission and reader gets shot while trying to protect bucky but the bullet was actually a 🌟 special 🌟 bullet and bucky has to take care of reader until they feel better (LIKE A BARBED WIRE BULLET omg and they keep bleeding through their bandage and finally find out what bullet it was GASP.)

fun fact: this would probably technically be a war crime! so sorry for how late this is, i appreciate your patience and thank you for requesting ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader cw: cursing, gunshot, blood wc: 918

“bucky?”

he didn’t respond. he was focused on something sam had said, face frozen in a smile, oblivious to the shadow at the window, the glint of metal in the sunlight.

but you could reach him. you dropped your glass, crossing the kitchen in three steps, planting your hands on his chest. you pushed him, both of you tumbling towards the floor, and then…

“hey, hey, hey…” bucky’s voice floated across the blankness, calm and measured. “don’t move…”

why did he say that? you weren’t moving.

“…didn’t hit anything important, you’re okay…”

what didn’t hit anything important?

“…muscle and fat, jus’ muscle and fat…”

and suddenly it occurred to you what he was talking about.

everything came rushing back, your train of thought screeching back into the station, and you gasped, face pressed against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. pain struck up your leg like lightning, and you cried out, bolting upright.

“easy, now, sweetheart,” he grunted, laying his vibranium arm across your chest while he pressed a cloth to your leg with his other. “can’t have you moving right now.”

fuck, it hurt. you’d been shot before, but this time it was different somehow. it burned with a fierce intensity, ravaging your leg. you felt like you might explode at any second.

“sor- i- i-“ you stammered.

“hey, don’t forget to breathe, doll.”

you bit down another cry, forcing air out through your nose.

“good, that’s good… sam?”

you caught a glimpse of him ripping off a section of his shirt for a tourniquet. somewhere in the back of your mind, you felt sad. you’d liked that shirt. it was a shame he’d have to use it on you.

“buck, it- fuck…”

you really felt it now, warm and sticky blood seeping through the cloth, flowing down your leg. the pain seemed to deepen, spreading up through your calf to the rest of your body, and you gritted your teeth to halt a pained scream.

“sam?”

bucky glanced down at your fear-stricken face with a mix of guilt and shame, but quickly offered you a tight-lipped smile. “nothin’ we haven’t done before, huh sweetheart?”

“feels different,” you groaned. “w-worse.”

he swore, propping your leg up onto his knee. you hissed at the movement, but held as still as you could while he pulled the strip of cloth up to your thigh.

a door slammed somewhere behind you and sam finally drifted into your swimming vision, breathing heavily. “i got him.”

“great,” bucky grunted, pulling the knot tight with his fingers. “help me out, will ya? i think it’s a dum-dum.”

then sam swore, and you knew to be worried. “give me that.”

bucky hovered back over you, lifting your chin with his hand. he thumbed at your cheek, and you leaned into the contact. “eyes on me, doll. sammy’s jus’ gonna tighten that up for you.”

you nodded, but it felt detached, as if you were slowly floating away from your body. his bright blue eyes were getting harder and harder to focus on, your body begging for the respite of unconsciousness.

“she’s going,” you heard bucky say, and you let the darkness take you.

when you next awoke, the pain had faded to a dull throb, and you were decidedly not dead. it was a good start.

you were in bed. not your bed, though. the gentle crackle of a record player sounded somewhere in the corner— bucky’s bedroom, then. sunlight was just beginning to stream through the blinds.

the super-soldier was curled up in an armchair next to your bed, head cupped in his palm. his hair, loose and unkempt, dangled in front of his face. he must have nodded off at some point during the night— that was rare, but then again, you were sure it had been a long one.

“what’s a dum-dum?” you croaked.

bucky startled awake, instinctively checking over your bandaged leg before meeting your eyes. his gruff expression melted into one more sympathetic, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.

“hey there, trooper.”

“hey. what’s a dum-dum?”

he chuckled at your persistence. “dum-dum bullets are expanding projectiles. they’re used to enlarge wounds and increase impact shock.”

your eyes widened, and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, straining to catch a glimpse at your calf.

“we got you fixed up,” he said quickly. “don’t worry.”

“thanks, buck,” you murmured, sinking back into the cushions.

he didn’t respond, and you blinked up at him. he had paled, the grave expression you were so used to seeing returning to his face.

“you shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled, voice gravelly.

“you were gonna get shot,” you said. “i did what anyone would’ve done.”

bucky shook his head. “you should’ve let it happen.”

“i don’t think it’s fair,” you argued. “just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you should have to take it all the time.”

“i can take it,” he corrected. “i am guaranteed to come out on the other side. you’re not.”

“that’s so stupid,” you sniffed.

“i know,” he said, smiling sadly. “but if it means keeping you safe, i’d take it every single time.”

you sighed, beckoning at him. “get in.”

he gingerly climbed over you, careful to avoid jostling your leg. you threw the comforter over him, and once he was settled, pressed your forehead to his.

“you owe me, barnes.”

he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “my knight in shining armor.”

you know he’s teasing you, but you don’t care. “of course, princess.”

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡