#just him spiraling while bucky's asleep next to him

[alienoresimagines]

We need more Gale and catholic guilt, not in a religious sort of way but the something-is-wrong-with-me kind of way. Not only for the angst and to add on to his already suppressed emotions but also for those kind of thinking and spiraling after a night with John

[buckyalpine]

Spiral

Bucky Barnes x teacher reader 

Warnings: AANGST Arguments, mean Bucky, break up, make up, fluffff 

listen, don’t eat me alive for this, I’ve been craving some angst (with a happy ending), the type that makes my chest itch so here we are. If this is too toxic for you and you only live for sunshine and rainbows and perfect communication, then this is not the fic for you. He gets mean because that’s what I wanted. So mean. I wanted to feel physical pain while reading. But then my hamster brain got exhausted to write more groveling. So don’t come at me about “she shouldn’t have taken him back, he should’ve begged and groveled more” He groveled. 

-

You sighed, rubbing sleep away from your eyes, trying to get them to focus on the time on the clock. 

2:57 AM

You stretched out some of the kinks from your neck after falling asleep on the couch, reaching for your phone and squinting at the bright screen, all your calls and texts left unanswered. He didn’t respond to one. You sat up hearing the lock click open, some of your anxiety melting away hearing the thud of his bag hit the floor. 

“Bucky?”

“Yeah” He toed off his boots and shrugged off his jacket, heading straight for the bedroom without even looking your way, his shoulders heavy from exhaustion. You followed him to your shared bedroom, taking his bag from him and unpacking it while he stripped his clothes off getting ready to take a shower. 

��What time did you guys get back?”

“Couple hours ago” He grunted, tossing his clothes into the hamper, heading to the bathroom and clicking the lock shut. You blinked, slightly taken aback by his coldness but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen this side before. Bucky had improved a lot with his stress and how he handled missions but ones that involved casualties or hydra would pull him into deep waves of despair, holding him down till he nearly drowned. 

You swallowed the uneasiness that crept up your spine; now wasn’t the time to ask him why he hadn’t let you know he was back safe or why he had ignored all  your messages. He would have been busy with reports and right now he was drained. You went to grab his Henley and some boxer briefs, laying them out on the bed for him as soon as you heard the water shut off. He emerged out with his towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his short locks while you grabbed his clothes, handing it to him before he went to the closet. 

“Here, I already got them out of the closet”

He half mumbled in response, pulling his clothes on and falling into bed, snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow. You weren’t a fan of him sleeping with wet hair, grabbing a dry towel and gently patting his hair as best as you could without waking him. He mumbled something again, pulling the sheet higher on himself and tucking himself further away from you, unbothered with his still semi damp hair. You jolted at the sound of your phone buzzing, Sam’s caller ID lighting up the screen. 

“Hey Sam” 

“Big guy get home alright?” 

“He did, why?” 

“Hm” You could hear the hesitation in his voice, “He’s been pretty out of it these past few missions, probably because he’s exhausted. Tony’s told him to sit out a couple of them but he’s there anyway. Stubborn as hell”  

“He really is” You shook your head, frowning at his sleeping form. Usually you found his stubbornness endearing but not when it was taking a toll on his health. 

“We uh...” Sam paused again, contemplating on if he should tell you his next words, deciding facing Bucky’s wrath would be better than losing him all together. “I know he’ll kick my ass for telling you this but we nearly lost him today” 

Your mouth dried up, heart rapidly hammering against your ribcage. You couldn’t get any words out to acknowledge what he’d just said but you heard him loud and clear. 

“Oh”

“It’s a lot, I know. Maybe talk to him. He’s getting reckless, it’s going to get him killed. We’ve tried talking to him but you know how-”

“Yeah” You blurted out, your mind now racing along with your heart, your body feeling hot. You could feel your anxiety sky rocket at the thought of Bucky endangering himself, never coming home to you again. The way your bed would feel empty. The way your soul would leave along with him. You couldn’t speak anymore, humming and mumbling the rest of the conversation. “Thanks Sam” 

You slipped under the covers, sleep not taking over as easily. Your anxiety at an all time high. Bucky used to text you as soon as he got back. Not a single one of your calls would be left unanswered. Running to you the second the jet landed. He’d never leave your side, taking you into the shower with him and making love to you till the sun came up with endless cuddles afterwards. Even after some of his darkest missions, he’d search for you eventually, seeking your comfort and warmth. 

Now?

Nothing. 

You groaned hearing the alarm go off, forcing yourself out of bed and going through your routine, getting ready for work and packing your things for the day. Your movements were shaky, the conversation with Sam screaming in your head while you poured some coffee and got started on breakfast. You wanted to scream and cry so badly but you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be a productive conversation when Bucky was like this anyway. You ended up running on autopilot, thinking about the lessons you’d teach for the day, supplies you still had to order for the classroom, the nagging parent that wanted to arrange a meeting after school. Bucky trudged into the kitchen a few minutes after you, setting on a bowl of cereal, his eyes sullen from a lack of proper sleep. 

“Can I make something for you?” you tested the waters to gauge his mood though you could see from his face he was still mentally elsewhere. He shook his head, huffing in frustration when the utensil drawer jammed, squeezing his eyes shut to collect himself before trying to open it again. 

“Sweetheart, let me get that for you” You set down your things, realizing that his exhausted state made his patience wear thin. 

“It’s fine” He tried to push the frustration he felt down, his teeth gritted as spoke, yanking at the drawer once more. 

“It’s probably stuck, just pull it slowly-”

“I said I got it” 

“But-”

“I’m not one of your fucking students!” He stated louder than necessary, pulling the drawer out with more force than he intended, all the contents inside crashing and clanking to the floor. You yelped in surprise, ignored the shakiness you started to feel coursing through your body, stepping towards Bucky instead, your heart breaking over how lost and worn out he looked. 

“Baby I didn’t say that-

“Why the fuck do you treat me like a child then?! Taking out my clothes, drying my hair, making my breakfast, texting and calling 100 times when I’m away. Do I look like I’m incapable of taking care of myself?” He spat, taking a step back from you when you tried to reach out from him, his brows furrowed, blue eyes glaring at you. You couldn’t help but let your anger bubble over, how dare he yell at you when he was the one carelessly putting his life at risk at risk on a daily basis. 

“Honestly?!” Your composure started to crumble, your eyes boring into his sleep deprived face, “From where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it”

Bucky let out a humorless laugh, scoffing while you continued to stare at him. He slammed the drawer shut, not bothering to pick up what had fallen as he started to walk away from the kitchen and back to the bedroom. 

“Fuck this, I don’t need this” He shook his head while you followed him, going straight to the closet to grab his duffle bag he took for overnight missions. 

“What exactly do you not need” You tried to take a deep breath in, not wanting to upset him more when he wasn’t in a good state of mind. 

“You”

Oh.

“I don’t need you or your coddling” He started to grab handfuls of his clothes, shoving them haphazardly in his bag. “It’s suffocating y/n” 

You watched him in silence, squeezing your nails into your palms, desperately trying to hold it together while he continued to pack the few belongings he had. 

“Having someone constantly nag you about your whereabouts, doubt if you can even take care of your basic needs. Its-it’s just exhausting” 

You swallowed away the tightness that constricted your throat, not wanting to aggravate him further even though your own emotions were now thrown for a loop. This wasn’t him, this wasn’t your Bucky. 

“James, all you had to do was just tell me you were safe, you used to answer your messages, I worry about y-

“Well don’t! Because I don’t worry about you. Alright? There. That’s why I don’t message”

You wordlessly stared at him, your mouth dry as if you’d swallowed cotton. Your chest felt like you had been hit by a truck, feeling pain on the inside as your heart strings snapped one by one each time he spoke. 

“I don’t message because I don’t care. When I come back I just-I just want to be left alone. That's why I spend so much time at the compound after. I don’t exactly feel like rushing home”

You wanted to bite your tongue, walk away but the words were falling from your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

“Clearly you don’t care! Is that why the fuck you take on so many missions when you’re clearly worn the fuck out? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job” Bucky growled while you willed yourself to not let him see you cry, your eyes betraying you as tears welled in your lash line. 

“It’s not doing your job if you’re dead Bucky!” Hot tears were now rolling down your cheeks, any resolve you previously had thrown out the door. 

“You don’t know anything”  Bucky shook his head, scoffing and pushing past you while you pathetically trailed behind him, unable to stop this train wreck of an argument.

“What?” 

He finally turned to face you, dropping his bag in the living room, his sullen eyes daring you to try and stop him from leaving. You were about to open your mouth to speak but he cut you off. 

“What the fuck do you know y/n, you get to go in every morning, coddle some children for 8 hours, then you come back home, fucking try and do the same shit with me after like you have nothing better to do, too stupid to realize I can take care of myself. Why would I need you? Huh? Tell me” He challenged, the rational side of his brain kicking and screaming at him to stop but he was too far gone, too deprived of everything to stop the venom he was spitting. “I don’t need you. I don’t fucking want you” 

“Th-that’s how you feel?” Bucky blinked at the sound of your voice cracking, though his ego and anger at the rest of the world not letting him back down. He shrugged, his stomach now churning over your stoic expression but your eyes giving away how much he was hurting you. “Fine” 

You didn’t move a muscle as he grabbed his bag and headed out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Every single fiber in your body wanted to crumble to the floor, wishing it would swallow you whole. You pushed back all the emotions that wanted to crash all over the floor, shakily packing your things up and rushing out the door, hoping your little ones would distract you enough to get through the day.

If anything they made it worse. 

Every one one of your students knew something was off, seeing right past the smile you had plastered onto your face, doing your best to appear normal. You fought off tears as your third graders quietly made you cards to make you feel better during their recess time, a few of them even leaving portions of their snack on your desk, hoping it’d make you smile. You avoided reading any of the sweet little notes, knowing you’d break down into sobs if you read them. 

As soon as you got home, all your pent up sadness turned into rage. Angry tears streamed down your face as soon as you locked the door shut, the soft scent of home, of your Bucky now made your stomach turn. You hated that the whole place suffocated you with him, pictures of you both, his records and books on the shelves, a Henley on the couch. The kitchen was no better, plums on the counter, his favorite coffee in the cupboard, a Captain America mug still in the sink. 

You desperately wanted to shower and crawl into bed but the shared bedroom was the worst of all. You couldn’t stand to be in the space where his clothes were, the sheet still lingering with his soft scent that used to make you feel safe and remind you of home. You didn’t even realize you had broken down into sobs on the floor, all the pent up emotions you had kept in you spilling out all at once. 

The last thing you wanted to do was coddle and suffocate Bucky, his words echoing in your head. 

I don’t message because I don’t care

What do you know, y/n?

I don’t need you.

I don’t fucking want you. 

Fine. 

-

Bucky wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he got home, blinking at the dark house, usually you’d leave at least one light on. He had made it clear he was leaving, he couldn't expect you to be waiting at the front door with open arms. He stood for a moment, wondering if you had perhaps gone to bed early but it was eerily quiet. He didn’t like the cold silence that greeted him, it didn’t take him long to realize you weren’t there.

Yet there was an inkling of hope that maybe. Just maybe you were somewhere around. 

“Y/n?” 

Nothing.

He made his way right to the bedroom, only to be met with more cold silence. Bucky’s mind swirled, regret, guilt and shame constricting his neck once again. As soon as he had walked out, he wanted nothing more than to run back into the house and take it all back, tell you he didn’t mean a word of what he said. He wanted to scoop you in his arms and beg for forgiveness and shower you with love for the way you cared about him so much. He let his feet carry him away instead, not being able to think straight, frustration and pain feeding the caged monster he unleased on you. 

The last person that deserved it. 

Where had you gone?

Did it matter? 

He paced around the room; none of your things were out of place but it was too late for you to have gone on a walk or to grab food. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, feeling nothing but disgust with himself, the image of your sweet fallen face burned in his mind. How could he push away the one person who cared enough to take care of him so tenderly. So gently. So lovingly. 

And to say he didn’t care? Or worry?

How could he let those words fall from his lips when you were the reason he stayed alive. It took everything in him to not smash the first thing that came into his hand, of all the reckless and careless things he had done in this life, this was the worst. This hurt more than anything Hydra had put him though. He almost wished they’d take him away again, wipe his memories, wipe away the sound of your voice cracking, wipe away the way you’d softly call for him. Wipe away the feel of your soft hands touching him and soothing him when he couldn't sleep-

Wipe everything away because he was selfish. 

Unable to exist with he guilt of knowing he’d hurt you so much. 

His hands were working faster than his brain could comprehend, calling the first person he could think of, desperate to know you were at least okay and alive before he purged the city to look for you. 

“Nat-”

“She’s here” Nat deadpanned, cutting the call immediately after. He knew by her tone of voice, there would be no point in trying to call back. He had no right to see you. No right to come and ask for you to come back. He had no right for anything yet he had already broken off into a sprint. He made it very clear he didn’t want you, very clear you meant nothing, very clear he was the most fucked up idiot in the world, completely undeserving of your love. 

But he was selfish. 

He loved you. 

Bucky didn’t waste a second, hopping onto his motorbike and speeding off to the compound, bounding to the elevators and immediately to Nat’s door. He barely raised his hand to knock, the red head reluctantly opening the door to a disheveled Bucky. 

“She doesn’t want to see you”

“Nat, please-

“Barnes. She doesn’t want to see you” She threw in with a shrug, her green eyes challenging him to argue back. 

“I want to see her” His voice was small, hopeful, only to be met with a scoff and eyeroll, the assassin stepping out of the room and gently shutting the door behind her. 

“So you can tell her you don’t want her?”  Nat crossed her arms while Bucky felt his insides crumble more, his own words taunting him. 

“She told you?”

“Not much because even now, she’s more worried about you instead of how you treated her” Nat glared at the super solider as he hung his head, knowing damn well he had already been spiraling for weeks, his explosion a result of pent up pain and stress left undealt with. “Y’know you could’ve lost it on one of us but not her, she’s always been there for you in ways no one else could” 

Bucky felt his throat tighten, unable to get any words out as he silently nodded and made his way to a different floor to sleep in a guest room. Of course he didn’t sleep, tears staining the pillow, struggling to keep his sobs down. He spent the rest of the night all the way till morning pacing up and down the hall instead, waiting for you to wake up, ignoring the glare Nat gave him when she saw him sitting on the floor outside of her room. As soon as the door clicked open again, Bucky scrambled to his feet, rushing to your side. 

“Y/n-

“Don’t” 

You couldn’t bare to look at him, turning on your heel with your bag slung over your shoulder. Bucky reached for your wrist, weakly grasping it, the undeserving inkling of hope he had slowly dissolving when he felt your muscles tense.

“I’m sor-

“I said don’t. I don’t want to hear it”  You shook your head, tugging your hand away and continuing down the hall while Bucky trailed behind you like a puppy. 

“Angel, angel please wait!” He caught up with you, moving to block your path, but you shoved his chest, pushing him aside, gritting you teeth together till you made it outside. You would not let him see you break twice. 

“No” 

“Angel, I-I need-”

“You made it very clear you don’t need much. I’m not something you need” You cut him off before he could finish, unable to shake off the way the words he cut you deep, tangled around you like barbed wire. Your words cut him right back, his chest filling with even more guilt and regret. 

“That’s not true baby” His voice trembled, looking at your tear stained cheeks and puffy face. He’d never forgive himself over the pain he’d caused you, itching to pull you in his arms but how could he when he made you cry in the first place. 

“Don’t call me that” You scoffed, feeling your throat tighten, your vision cloudy with fresh tears. You kept your eyes trained towards the elevator, hoping to escape before the damn broke. 

“But you are”

“No, I’m not” You shook your head, “You can get the rest of your things today, you won’t have to worry about not rushing home anymore” You didn’t give him a chance to respond, dashing towards the doors as soon as they opened and striding through the compound till you got to your car. The skin on your knuckles was pulled tight as you gripped the steering wheel, breathing slowly till you got home. Everything came crashing down again as soon as you were back in your room; it wouldn’t have hurt this much if you didn’t actually love him

But you did. 

-

Bucky looked defeated as the elevator doors closed, his heart breaking further when you didn’t spare him a second glance. He didn’t bother wiping away the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way back to the guest room, ignoring Steve’s concerned glance and slamming the door shut. As expected, there was a knock at the door moments later, blond hair and blue eyes peering inside, unbothered by the death glare Bucky was shooting him. 

“You did something” He cocked an eyebrow, looking at his bestfriends guilt ridden face, staring at his feet like an admonished child. Bucky chewed at his lip, figuring there was no point in lying at this point, if anything he deserved the scolding he’d inevitably get. 

“I messed up”

“That would appear so” Steve nodded, urging him to continue. 

“I said a lot of things” 

“You should apologize”

“I can’t apologize for the things I said” Bucky shook his head, his voice trembling again, “I-I can’t just say sorry. It’s been weeks. Weeks of giving her shit. This just- it was too much. Y-you should have seen her face Steve” 

Steve remained silent, letting him continue.

“Fuck- I-, y’know she goes as far as drying my hair if I try to sleep while its still damp? Even when it’s late? and she has work the next morning” 

“And the problem is? She always takes care of you, I’ve seen it myself”

Bucky scoffed at himself, shaking his head while fidgeting with his hands. 

What was his problem.

He had a girl that actually gave a fuck about him, wanting to know if he was safe and loving him enough to take care of him even when he was broken. 

“I got mad at her for it” His voice was a whisper, dripping in shame, “She’d waited for me to get home, took care of me and I yelled at her”

“Explain” Steve didn’t like where the conversation was going but he wasn’t about to let Bucky off the hook without finding out exactly what happened. “All of it” 

“I-I was tired. I got frustrated when a drawer got stuck and lashed out on her and told her I didn’t want her. Didn’t need her. Had no interest in seeing her. It had already been a long time of me just not seeing or talking to her properly in general”

“Bucky” 

“I know” He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at Steve’s face. “and a lot of other shit. And I can’t take it back” 

“No, you can’t” Steve agreed, much to Bucky’s discontent but again, his best friend wouldn’t lie and he had brought this all on himself. “You actually care about her?” 

“I fucking love her” Bucky’s eyes shot up, full confidence in his voice, he, without a single doubt in his soul, loved you completely. 

“Then give her time. You hurt her, Buck”

Bucky nodded, hating that he had no choice now but to wait. He quietly collected his things while you were at work, not wanting to torment you further. 

-

You hadn’t spoken to Bucky for weeks. Every time your missed him, thought about him, picked up your phone to call and check on him, you remembered what he told you. 

He didn’t want you. 

You downed another drink, staying tucked away at a booth while Natasha and Wanda went off dancing, the both of them dragging out out of the house, insisting you had to get out. Even after the break up, they remained close to you. No amount of make up could cover the puffiness and redness of your eyes or mask the way your voice was stuffy from nights of crying to sleep but there you were. On your third glass. 

“Someone looks happy to be here” 

Your eyes searched the crowd for the familiar voice, eventually landing on Sam, his eyebrows playfully wiggling as he slid into your booth.  You relaxed when you saw he hadn’t come with Bucky but you knew based off his face, there was something on his mind. 

“I think you both should talk” 

There it is. 

“There’s nothing to talk about” You shrugged, swirling your drink around with your straw while Sam sighed. 

“You’re both miserable”

“I made him miserable” You countered, nervously fidgeting with your fingers instead.

“You know that’s not true-” Sam started but the scoff you let out let him know that was a pointless road to go down, “Okay fine. Things weren’t great. But it was an abrupt end and he’s been kicking himself and you don’t look like you’re doing so hot either sweetheart” 

“Thanks” You deadpanned while he grinned, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“He’s really trying for you, y/n” Sam said softly, the playfulness in his voice replaced with sincerity. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Talk to him” 

-

You spent the rest of the week contemplating what Sam said but every time you picked up your phone, you dropped it again. You messages would probably be ignored and he likely hated you even more. Which is why you were curled up on the couch, trying not to think about him, having a night for yourself, hoping not to be tempted with your phone though a soft thump at the door pulled you away from the story. You set down the book you were reading, growing nervous when you heard the sound again. You were sure you were just hearing things but this time it was more clear. The second knock at the door made you blink, curious to know who would come by at this time. 

“Bucky?” You gasped, surprised to find him standing on the other side, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand, the stems nearly crushed from how nervous he was, “What-what are you doing here?” 

“It’s-fuck, it’s been hell sweets” Bucky whispered, his knees already ready to give way, the smell of home, the sight of you, all making him feel overwhelmed. “Hell knowing I hurt you” 

You stepped aside to let him in, not wanting to keep him in the hallway. Bucky stayed rooted in place on the welcome mat, not wanting to cross a boundary if you didn’t want him there. He hesitantly came in when you gave him a small nod, his movements shaky as he toed his boots off and followed you to the living room, the both of you standing in silence.  

“You said you didn’t want me” You kept your eyes trained on your feet, tears already threatening to spill over, you could feel the warmth of his body with how close he was, smell the scent of his laundry detergent, his cologne, the leather of his jacket. 

“How could I not want you sweets, you’re one of the reasons I’m alive-”

“Didn’t seem that way” 

“I know baby, but-” 

“Don’t call me that James” You shook your head, your heart twisting hearing his pleading voice, the sweet names he had for you making you weak. 

“No” Bucky shook his head as he felt his stomach drop at the sound of his name coming from your mouth, he despised it, hated it, “ m’not James, m’your Bucky, your Jamie, your baby, please-”

“You’re not a lot of things” You tried to keep your voice steady but it was already beginning to crack, your nails digging into your palms to keep from pulling him into you when he stepped closer. 

“I’m sorry” 

You remained silent, swallowing the lump that made your throat tighter, your vision blurry.

“I’m so sorry doll, please?” 

You could hear the quiver in his voice, now barely a whisper, the sniffle between his words making your lip tremble. 

“Please?” 

The soft sob that slipped past your lips at his pleading voice broke Bucky, his legs giving way, desperate to take away everything he did to hurt you. He was on his knees, his face buried in your tummy, his tears soaking your shirt. His cries were muffled as he tried to burry his face in further, desperately clinging onto you while you hesitantly brought a hand to card through his hair. 

“Why” You still felt like you had so many things left unanswered. 

“It was never you baby” Bucky kept himself hidden from you, his arms hugging you tightly while continuing to rest against your stomach. “I-I kept everything inside and it spilled onto you, I don’t have the words- M’selfish baby. I’m so selfish because I want you, I want to love you, I want everything you give me, I miss you, I missed you, I shouldn’t have walked out, m’sorry”

You hummed, petting his hair softly, the simple action causing him to feel even more emotional. 

“Please, wanna be your Bucky, please, I’m sorry doll” He nervously tilted his face up, his chin still pressed against your stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks. You placed your hand on his scruffy cheek, which he instantly leaned into, your thumb swiping away his tears. 

“I-I’m scared” You said truthfully, every single fiber in your body wanting to pick him up and cling onto him forever but you were nervous. He walked out once...

“I’ll give you all the space you need. Just please give me another chance, it doesn’t have to be today or soon, just- I promise I’ll do better doll” 

You nodded, taking his hand in yours to pull him to his feet, letting him sit on the couch with you. Bucky placed the flowers he was till clutching onto on the coffee table before sitting beside you, mindful to keep some space in between. 

“I-I told Tony to pull me out of missions”  

“What?”

Bucky nodded with a small smile, it was the first thing he did when he realized he had to take care of himself first before coming back to you. You’d done enough of picking up his broken pieces. 

“The missions weren’t good for me. Too many, a lot of them triggering. I needed to pull back but I kept going. Didn’t stop until I ended up hurting you. Figured it was time I spoke up. Even started to see a therapist”

“You did?” You couldn’t help but inch closer to him, knowing exactly how much he struggled with opening up. 

“I did it for me so I could be better for you” Bucky stated honestly; he made the choice to better himself because that’s what you deserved. “You don’t have to take me back right away-

“Come back home” You whispered, meeting his eyes with your teary ones, you’d take it slow if you had to but you wanted to do it with him by your side. 

“Are you sure?” Bucky’s heart hammered out of his chest, not wanting to get his hopes up or make you feel like he was pressuring you, “I’ll wait if you need more time-” 

“Come back home” You cut him off, biting your lip to keep from crying again, clawing into his lap, his arms engulfing you into a tight hug while you clung onto him, burying your face into his neck. He smelled like love, home, your heart. The feel of his arms wrapped around you made you feel safe and whole again. 

“Come home, Bucky” You hugged him tighter while he pulled away, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. 

“Bucky?” He whispered, having missed the way his name sounded, the softness of your voice, the way you fit with him. 

“My Bucky” You nodded, letting your forehead rest against his, pressing a soft kiss to his nose. 

“Jamie?”

“My Jamie”

“Baby”

“My baby” 

“M’never leaving again, angel” 

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[downbadf0rficppl]

you're on your own kid

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You had a rough childhood, what with an absent father and a piece of shit mother. When a family dinner goes wrong, how do you stop your brain from spiraling? How do you convince yourself you're not alone? A certain blue-eyed, metal-armed avenger, of course.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: Eating Disorders/Weight Related Talk, Blood, Injury, Kinda Self Harm, Child Abuse [PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE TOPICS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!!]

You squirmed in your seat, fidgeting with your sleeves. It was awkward being at home after so long. You hadn't been home for four years almost - and it had probably been even longer since you'd sat at this table. Your mother sat across the table from you - her gaze heavy on your head. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, your brother had joked.

He was sitting next to you, his knee gently brushing against yours. A placating movement. He was trying to keep the peace - enjoying the first meal that you had had as a family in a long while. You don't know what it was that made you seek them out. Maybe if you had waited a week, you would have thought about the facts, rather than the feelings. Maybe if you had waited a week, you wouldn't be sitting here with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You sat in silence, playing with the food on your plate. Your mother was of the almond variety, weighing out plates before passing them around the table. You didn't have much to talk about. Things hadn't ended well the last time the two of you spoke.

Your brother chimed in with the odd question - 'How's your gardening coming along, mom?' or 'How's the new job, sis? What's it like working for the Avengers?'. You'd humour him until your mother's disapproving stares became too much and then you'd shut up. He'd give you a sad sort of pitying smile, before returning to his food.

Dinner was long - even it was less than the traditional three courses. Your brother packed up some extra food, and took it home - he only lived about a half mile away so it made sense for him to go home. You made to go with him but your mother insisted you stay with her. "I made up your room, just the way you like it."

You doubted it. But you smiled anyway and hugged your brother tightly. He whispered that 'you would be fine' and 'it's only one night' and maybe for a second you believed him. As soon as he left, you headed to bed, claiming that 'The trip was long, ma, I'm super tired.'

The look on her face screamed that she didn't believe you. But she waved you good night and headed to the kitchen to find her favourite bottle of scotch.

You opened the door to your childhood bedroom to find it almost the same. The pink walls and bedcovers were suffocating, the blinds drawn shut to create this overwhelming feeling of being trapped. You were. Trapped.

You took your jumper off, laid it over your vanity chair, and jumped onto the bed. It was comfortable, but lying there staring at the ceiling brought back all the horrible memories you tried to suppress. Diet pills and weighing scales, small plates and vomiting, screaming and crying, sirens and hospital bills. Tears streamed down your face as curled up onto your side.

It was almost midnight when you heard your mother walk up the stairs. You knew she was drunk - her steps were loud and out of sync, and the bottle in her hand frequently tapped the banister as she tried to stabilise herself on it. You half expected her to keep walking, cross the landing, and fall dead asleep on her bed.

Instead, your door creaked open and you came face to face with her. Her glassy eyes were rimmed with red - she'd been crying too. Her eyes raked over you and suddenly you wished you'd never come back at all.

"Such a shame," she whispered, "You could have been so much more."

"Ma?"

"You were always... the best. The prettiest. The skinniest. You could have been incredible. Instead, you are... nobody."

Her words cut deep but you tried to ignore them. You were somebody. You worked for the Avengers, you were a top-level agent for SHIELD. You helped save the world.

"I tried my best. To help you. But you were ungrateful," Your mother stalked closer, her sadness giving way to anger, "conceited, convinced that you could be anything more than what I made you. But you were wrong. I created you. Without me, THERE IS NO YOU." She launched the bottle at your head and it shattered at the wall behind you.

She kept screaming, but you tuned her out, slipping off the bed and grabbing your jumper and keys. You ran past her, shoving her hard as she tried to grab you and ran out to your car. She watched you go screaming abuse after you, telling you to 'never step foot inside her house again.' You weren't planning to.

You drove like a madman back to upstate - traffic was pretty light considering the ungodly hour. You parked haphazardly - Tony would probably murder you for it in the morning but you couldn't find it within yourself to care. You trudged upstairs, footfalls far too heavy for someone is literally a superspy, but this was your home. You weren't running from anyone in here.

You were so stuck in your own head that you didn't realise that Bucky was sitting in the living room, watching as you walked into the kitchen. He'd heard your footsteps and he was worried. You never walked that heavily.

"Everything ok, doll?"

You looked up at him, not registering a word he said. He stood up and walked over to you, fingers reaching up to stroke your face.

"You good?" He whispered, his forehead almost touching yours.

You pulled away from his touch, even though your body was screaming for you to collapse into his open arms. "Yeah, Buck, fine. See you in the morning for training." You stepped past him, heading for the stairs.

"Yeah, doll. See you in the morning."

The morning came around far quicker than you'd hoped. You had barely slept, tossing and turning all night, your mother's words ringing through your head.

Eventually, you realised it was a futile effort. You might as well get up and be productive. You found yourself in the gym just as the sun came up, face to face with a heavy bag. You clenched your wrapped fists before shaking the sleep out of your system.

Your hits were precise, measured, calculated. If there was one thing no one could fault you for, it was your skills. You were an impeccable agent. If only your mum could see that. You took your rage out on the heavy bag, pouring every ounce of resent in your body into your punches. Sweat beaded on your forehead, the exertion making your breaths heavier and your knuckles sting. You kept punching, time slipping away from you.

You heard the door to the gym open, and someone was talking. Their voice was muted, almost as if your head was underwater. Between the punches and your tiredness, nothing registered in your foggy mind. From the distance you could hear footsteps, getting louder almost as if they were walking towards you.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand brushed against your shoulder. You spun around ready to cuss out whichever stupid rookie decided to bother you so early in the morning. You were surprised to see familiar eyes boring into yours.

"I called your name, you know," Bucky said, his hands moving to rest on your waist, "twice. I even dropped my bag next to yours to get your attention."

"Sorry, I was thinking."

"I can tell," Bucky's thumbs drew circles on your waist, absentmindedly, "Where's that pretty mind been at lately?"

"What do you want, Barnes?"

"I'm worried. About you. You haven't been yourself lately. What's going on?"

"Nothing." You sighed, removing yourself from his grasp, "Missions, reports, meetings. It's tiring."

"Maybe you take a holiday? Try and relax a bit?" You could hear the genuine concern in his voice but you still rolled your eyes.

"Maybe you mind your own fucking business, Barnes? Don't you have other shit to be doing apart from hovering over me?" You grabbed your stuff, refusing to make eye contact with him, and walked out.

"I'm still seeing you for training right?" You hear him call after you, but you keep walking. You let out a shaky breath as soon as you got into the elevator.

He didn't see you for training. Or after.

You'd skipped training in favour of going on a run with Steve and then you had to file a few mission reports. You'd holed yourself up in your office, manila files piling up on the corner of your desk your fingers brushing over the keys with seasoned speed. Bucky had wanted to stop by but given your odd behaviour in the morning, he'd decided against it.

You were glad. You hated that Bucky could see right through you, even when you tried your best to hide it. Especially because you were irrevocably in love with him.

You'd been in love with him ever since you'd started working at the compound. Bucky was one of the few people to notice you and your efficiency. You became one of his preferred mission partners, a fact of which you were very proud. You quickly became one of his favourite people, period, and Bucky even went so far as to blow off Steve to spend time with you.

It hurt you to keep him at arm's length but you knew it was for the best. You remembered what your father told you the night before he left. You're on your own kid. You always have been.

You were given a mission assignment in the evening, with strict instructions of 'wheels up at 0600.' The early pickup time wasn't strange and you were itching to get out of the compound. You packed your bag up, leaving it by the door, and headed to bed.

Another restless night of sleep was the last thing you needed, but you were up and at the hangar waiting for Captain Rogers by 0600. He smiled when he saw you and handed you a coffee. You smiled. Your first real smile since you visited your parents.

"Good luck out there." A voice calls from behind you. You freeze. Bucky jogs towards you both, his eyes betraying his tiredness. Steve's face breaks into a grin at the sight of his old friend. Steve throws his arms around Bucky.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," Steve says, his joking tone making Bucky laugh.

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

You want to smile at the sight of the two of them together but you held yourself back. You walked towards the quinjet, ready to get this show on the road when you hear Bucky clearing his voice behind you.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Onto the quinjet?"

"Not without a hug, you're not." You sigh but trudge down the steps to give him a half-arsed side hug. He pulls you in tight, and whispers into your hair, "When you get back, we're gonna talk. Okay?"

You don't respond, brushing him off and climbing into the jet. Steve follows you in, dropping his bag next to yours, before turning back to wave at Bucky.

"Don't worry, Buck, I'll take good care of your girl."

His girl. That sounded nice. You shook the thought away before elbowing Steve in the sight. Jokingly of course, but he still doubled over for effect. Bucky burst into laughter.

That was the last thing you saw as the door went up.

The mission was hard. Not terrible - no one died, which was a win in your book - but it wasn't fun. Multiple shootouts, car chases, and three hours of hiding in a dumpster later, you were ready to nap for a week. But, alas, Fury had set a debrief at 8 the next morning, which meant that you had - you checked the clock on your microwave - 6 hours at best.

You dropped your bag on the sofa and headed into the bathroom. You unzipped your utility vest, dropping it on the floor. You needed to disinfect it - god knows what had stained that vest. You pulled up your compression shirt, wincing as the flecks of red came into view. You quickly stripped it off, dropping it in the washing basket, before whipping back around. You caught your own reflection in the mirror and tilted your head, taking in your reflection of your body. Your mother's words played back in your head. Maybe your mother had a point.

You quickly shook your head, dispelling those horrible thoughts from your mind. But still, you continued to stare at your body, scrutinising every feature. I mean, sure you weren't as skinny as you used to be, but that's because you had muscle now, right? And the hamburger you had for lunch was a treat - you know for completing the mission? The super important mission that you were on because you are important and you are somebody and you have value and you are someone without your mum. Don't you? And it's ok that you can't see your ribs because actually you have abs now and that's way more attractive. Right? And.. and... and....

SMASH.

Broken glass was shattered all around you, fragments piercing your skin. Your mirror now had a fist-shaped hole in the middle, from where your sadness had quickly bled into anger.

You cradled your bloodied fist in your hand, sinking to the ground as sobs racked through your body. Glass dug into your knees as they hit the floor and you curled your hands into your chest. Hurtful 'what ifs' swirled through your head, stealing your breath and making it almost impossible to breathe.

Pounding on your door broke you out of your thoughts. You tried to regain your bearings. It was 2 am. You were in your apartment, the apartment that was miles away from the compound, that you lived in alone. Who the hell would be at your door right now?

You were silent, breath bated as you waited for the stranger to go away. They banged on the door again.

"Doll, I swear to god, if you don't let me in, I'm going to break your fucking door down."

You knew that voice anywhere. The knowledge that you weren't alone, that he was here for you, that Bucky wouldn't make you suffer alone brought new tears to your eyes. Fresh sobs burst from your chest as you tried to move. Glass shards were stabbing into your legs, and one of your hands was bleeding profusely. Bucky, your safety net, was so close and yet so far.

"Doll? Doll, I can hear you. Doll, please, please let me in." You could hear the panic in his voice as he struggled with his conscience. You tried to move but the pain was excruciating. A pained scream erupted from your lips.

A loud bang came from your front door, followed by heavy and fast footsteps.

"Where are you, doll? Come on, just come and talk to me." He said, sweeping through your living room. You whimpered from the bathroom, his enhanced hearing focussing on even the smallest of sounds.

He quickly found his way into the bathroom, his eyes raking over your hunched figure, before flitting to the broken mirror and the shards of glass on the ground.

"Oh doll," he whispered, bending down to scoop you up from the floor. He cradled you gently as he carried you from the bathroom into your bedroom. "What happened, doll? Talk to me."

You looked up at him, trying to figure out where to start. You blanked. You couldn't find a good place to start the story that would cause you the least pain. Your mouth opened and closed a few times with no sound coming out. Bucky rested his hand against yours, trying to reassure you to take your time, but the sound of your wince drew his attention to your hands.

"Doll, your hands." He grabbed your hands gently, peering at your knuckles. They were mauled, glass sticking out of torn-up skin, "What did you do?" He stood up, walking into your kitchen to grab the first aid kit he knew was under the sink. Watching him walk around like he owned the place made some small part of your heart happy - it was almost as if your dreams, your darkest-held fantasies, were coming true.

Bucky kneeled in front of you, placing the first aid kit beside him. He brushed all the glass shards off your legs - luckily none of them had been embedded into your skin. He cleaned any small scratches before turning to your knuckles. The sight of your knuckles made him wince and you started to pull them away. Bucky leveled you with a look that said, let me take care of you. You let him. He sterilised a pair of tweezers and got to work pulling the shards of glass out of your knuckles. You sat in silence for a while, Bucky diligently working on your knuckles, and you watching the swiftness with which he worked.

"Why did you punch the mirror, doll?" Bucky asked after a while.

"I was angry," you whispered, your voice deathly quiet. Now that the rage was gone, all you had left was embarrassment.

"And why were you angry?" Bucky coaxed, his eyes pleading for some answers. He pulled out the last shard of glass before swiping an alcohol wipe over your knuckles and bandaging them up. He packed up all the items back into the first aid box and went to put it away and wash his hands.

You were still sat on the bed contemplating your answer when he got back. He knelt in front of you again, before he rested his hands on your face, "Why were you angry doll?"

"I didn't like it." You whispered, pulling your body away from him.

"What didn't you like?" Bucky's eyes stared into yours and you suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. You tried to remove yourself from his all-seeing, mind-reading gaze, but he didn't let you. He pulled you into his lap, and you hid your face in his neck. His beard tickled your forehead as you nestled into him, trying to seek out the comfort you so desperately needed but didn't know how to ask for.

"Me." You said, your head turned away from him as you stared at your hands.

"What?"

"I didn't like me." Your voice started to shake as you tried to find the right words to tell him the truth, the whole honest godforsaken truth, but you couldn't.

Bucky seemed to read your mind, "It's ok, take your time. We don't have to talk about this today. We can come back to it later, when you're feeling up for it, okay?" You nodded, burrowing further into him, "You wanna sleep?"

You nodded again, and Bucky shifted, wrapping his arms around you so he could gently place you down on the bed. He removed his arms from underneath you and tucked you into bed, gently kissing your forehead as you turned to leave. You whined.

"Pleasedon'tgoBuck-" You mumbled, sleep quickly pulling you under. He smiled, perching himself on the end of the bed.

"You sure you want me to say, sweetheart? Not sure you'll ever get rid of me if I stay?"

"I promise. Never want you to go." You said, clinging to his arm and pulling him back into bed.

You slipped into an easy slumber as Bucky shuffled around in your room. Maybe you didn't have to be on your own anymore.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[softspace-fics]

Homework

Masterlist - all my work!

A/N - Hi everyone! First off I'm sorry for not posting for a few days, I haven't been feeling well and schools been alot especially now that I have a job. I also want to say thank you so much for the reblogs and follows recently, I couldn't be more greatful that you guys are enjoying my fics! Please enjoy this next one as well.

Warnings ⚠️: invoulintarily regression, reader has anxiety/panic attack, Stucky helps reader to get through the attack.

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x GN!little reader

_______________

You slam your pencil onto the desk before throwing your head back in frustration as the homework sits there heavy on your desk. You'd been staring at it for hours and every time you attempted to do it, everything would just blur and your regression would began to spiral further and further.

It had been a extremely long day with starting a new job, and college exams coming up soon, which means you were stressed beyond belief and nothing was helping. You had music going through your headphones, it only did so much to help you focus. 

Your caregivers weren't here as they were on a mission for the last month and youve been completely isolated due to college and your job and everything else inbetween.

You shakily pick up your pencil again as silent tears fall from your eyes and you feel sick trying to get these stupid notes done. You get through a few sentences before you feel the pencil taken from you and your headphones carefully taken off of your ears and your chair spun around.

You freak and almost smack whoever is touching you until you see Bucks face and every emotion you've kept inside breaks and you fall into his arms balling.

Bucky carefully but quickly picks you up, shushing you and repeatedly reminding you, your safe and loved. Gentle kisses were placed all over your head and your tears were wiped as you continued to sob into him.

Steve is next to you guys, rubbing your back, trying not to cry himself. Bucky and him came into the apartment and with your headphones being on, they could hear your tiny sniffles the moment the door was open. They immediately took off their shoes and put their bags down, before practically running down the hallway to find you.

When they saw the homework scattered all around the desk and your sitting form almost crumpled in, they knew you weren't doing okay, and swooped in to help.

They walked around with you crying for about a hour, ranting about everything, the exhaustion of how you feel starting to feel lighter after having the two people that mean the most to you back with you. 

Steve and bucky help get you into more comfortable clothes, sliding a pacifier into your lips as your tears die down and you begin to completely regress invoulintarily. You mumble around your pacifier about the homework, and bucky just gently shushes you and tells you they’ll help you do it tomorrow. 

Homework was the worst and there was times where everything feels like it's crushing around you but at least you had your caregivers to help crack down the walls you make and to help you out into the open. 

Steve takes you out to the living room while bucky gets some food made for you three, and holds you close as your tucked safely under his chin, watching cartoons. 

After the duo made sure you were fed well and had your bottle, you all eventually fell asleep on the couch, your favorite movie on and in the safedy of the two people who knew you best and loved you even more.

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

you're on your own kid.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You had a rough childhood, what with an absent father and a piece of shit mother. When a family dinner goes wrong, how do you stop your brain from spiraling? How do you convince yourself you're not alone? A certain blue-eyed, metal-armed avenger, of course.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: Eating Disorders/Weight Related Talk, Blood, Injury, Kinda Self Harm, Child Abuse [PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE TOPICS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!!]

Author's Note: I don't really know what this is. Sorry, I've been MIA for so long. Not my best work. Sorry.

You squirmed in your seat, fidgeting with your sleeves. It was awkward being at home after so long. You hadn't been home for four years almost - and it had probably been even longer since you'd sat at this table. Your mother sat across the table from you - her gaze heavy on your head. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, your brother had joked.

He was sitting next to you, his knee gently brushing against yours. A placating movement. He was trying to keep the peace - enjoying the first meal that you had had as a family in a long while. You don't know what it was that made you seek them out. Maybe if you had waited a week, you would have thought about the facts, rather than the feelings. Maybe if you had waited a week, you wouldn't be sitting here with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You sat in silence, playing with the food on your plate. Your mother was of the almond variety, weighing out plates before passing them around the table. You didn't have much to talk about. Things hadn't ended well the last time the two of you spoke.

Your brother chimed in with the odd question - 'How's your gardening coming along, mom?' or 'How's the new job, sis? What's it like working for the Avengers?'. You'd humour him until your mother's disapproving stares became too much and then you'd shut up. He'd give you a sad sort of pitying smile, before returning to his food.

Dinner was long - even it was less than the traditional three courses. Your brother packed up some extra food, and took it home - he only lived about a half mile away so it made sense for him to go home. You made to go with him but your mother insisted you stay with her. "I made up your room, just the way you like it."

You doubted it. But you smiled anyway and hugged your brother tightly. He whispered that 'you would be fine' and 'it's only one night' and maybe for a second you believed him. As soon as he left, you headed to bed, claiming that 'The trip was long, ma, I'm super tired.'

The look on her face screamed that she didn't believe you. But she waved you good night and headed to the kitchen to find her favourite bottle of scotch.

You opened the door to your childhood bedroom to find it almost the same. The pink walls and bedcovers were suffocating, the blinds drawn shut to create this overwhelming feeling of being trapped. You were. Trapped.

You took your jumper off, laid it over your vanity chair, and jumped onto the bed. It was comfortable, but lying there staring at the ceiling brought back all the horrible memories you tried to suppress. Diet pills and weighing scales, small plates and vomiting, screaming and crying, sirens and hospital bills. Tears streamed down your face as curled up onto your side.

It was almost midnight when you heard your mother walk up the stairs. You knew she was drunk - her steps were loud and out of sync, and the bottle in her hand frequently tapped the banister as she tried to stabilise herself on it. You half expected her to keep walking, cross the landing, and fall dead asleep on her bed.

Instead, your door creaked open and you came face to face with her. Her glassy eyes were rimmed with red - she'd been crying too. Her eyes raked over you and suddenly you wished you'd never come back at all.

"Such a shame," she whispered, "You could have been so much more."

"Ma?"

"You were always... the best. The prettiest. The skinniest. You could have been incredible. Instead, you are... nobody."

Her words cut deep but you tried to ignore them. You were somebody. You worked for the Avengers, you were a top-level agent for SHIELD. You helped save the world.

"I tried my best. To help you. But you were ungrateful," Your mother stalked closer, her sadness giving way to anger, "conceited, convinced that you could be anything more than what I made you. But you were wrong. I created you. Without me, THERE IS NO YOU." She launched the bottle at your head and it shattered at the wall behind you.

She kept screaming, but you tuned her out, slipping off the bed and grabbing your jumper and keys. You ran past her, shoving her hard as she tried to grab you and ran out to your car. She watched you go screaming abuse after you, telling you to 'never step foot inside her house again.' You weren't planning to.

You drove like a madman back to upstate - traffic was pretty light considering the ungodly hour. You parked haphazardly - Tony would probably murder you for it in the morning but you couldn't find it within yourself to care. You trudged upstairs, footfalls far too heavy for someone is literally a superspy, but this was your home. You weren't running from anyone in here.

You were so stuck in your own head that you didn't realise that Bucky was sitting in the living room, watching as you walked into the kitchen. He'd heard your footsteps and he was worried. You never walked that heavily.

"Everything ok, doll?"

You looked up at him, not registering a word he said. He stood up and walked over to you, fingers reaching up to stroke your face.

"You good?" He whispered, his forehead almost touching yours.

You pulled away from his touch, even though your body was screaming for you to collapse into his open arms. "Yeah, Buck, fine. See you in the morning for training." You stepped past him, heading for the stairs.

"Yeah, doll. See you in the morning."

The morning came around far quicker than you'd hoped. You had barely slept, tossing and turning all night, your mother's words ringing through your head.

Eventually, you realised it was a futile effort. You might as well get up and be productive. You found yourself in the gym just as the sun came up, face to face with a heavy bag. You clenched your wrapped fists before shaking the sleep out of your system.

Your hits were precise, measured, calculated. If there was one thing no one could fault you for, it was your skills. You were an impeccable agent. If only your mum could see that. You took your rage out on the heavy bag, pouring every ounce of resent in your body into your punches. Sweat beaded on your forehead, the exertion making your breaths heavier and your knuckles sting. You kept punching, time slipping away from you.

You heard the door to the gym open, and someone was talking. Their voice was muted, almost as if your head was underwater. Between the punches and your tiredness, nothing registered in your foggy mind. From the distance you could hear footsteps, getting louder almost as if they were walking towards you.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand brushed against your shoulder. You spun around ready to cuss out whichever stupid rookie decided to bother you so early in the morning. You were surprised to see familiar eyes boring into yours.

"I called your name, you know," Bucky said, his hands moving to rest on your waist, "twice. I even dropped my bag next to yours to get your attention."

"Sorry, I was thinking."

"I can tell," Bucky's thumbs drew circles on your waist, absentmindedly, "Where's that pretty mind been at lately?"

"What do you want, Barnes?"

"I'm worried. About you. You haven't been yourself lately. What's going on?"

"Nothing." You sighed, removing yourself from his grasp, "Missions, reports, meetings. It's tiring."

"Maybe you take a holiday? Try and relax a bit?" You could hear the genuine concern in his voice but you still rolled your eyes.

"Maybe you mind your own fucking business, Barnes? Don't you have other shit to be doing apart from hovering over me?" You grabbed your stuff, refusing to make eye contact with him, and walked out.

"I'm still seeing you for training right?" You hear him call after you, but you keep walking. You let out a shaky breath as soon as you got into the elevator.

He didn't see you for training. Or after.

You'd skipped training in favour of going on a run with Steve and then you had to file a few mission reports. You'd holed yourself up in your office, manila files piling up on the corner of your desk your fingers brushing over the keys with seasoned speed. Bucky had wanted to stop by but given your odd behaviour in the morning, he'd decided against it.

You were glad. You hated that Bucky could see right through you, even when you tried your best to hide it. Especially because you were irrevocably in love with him.

You'd been in love with him ever since you'd started working at the compound. Bucky was one of the few people to notice you and your efficiency. You became one of his preferred mission partners, a fact of which you were very proud. You quickly became one of his favourite people, period, and Bucky even went so far as to blow off Steve to spend time with you.

It hurt you to keep him at arm's length but you knew it was for the best. You remembered what your father told you the night before he left. You're on your own kid. You always have been.

You were given a mission assignment in the evening, with strict instructions of 'wheels up at 0600.' The early pickup time wasn't strange and you were itching to get out of the compound. You packed your bag up, leaving it by the door, and headed to bed.

Another restless night of sleep was the last thing you needed, but you were up and at the hangar waiting for Captain Rogers by 0600. He smiled when he saw you and handed you a coffee. You smiled. Your first real smile since you visited your parents.

"Good luck out there." A voice calls from behind you. You freeze. Bucky jogs towards you both, his eyes betraying his tiredness. Steve's face breaks into a grin at the sight of his old friend. Steve throws his arms around Bucky.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," Steve says, his joking tone making Bucky laugh.

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

You want to smile at the sight of the two of them together but you held yourself back. You walked towards the quinjet, ready to get this show on the road when you hear Bucky clearing his voice behind you.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Onto the quinjet?"

"Not without a hug, you're not." You sigh but trudge down the steps to give him a half-arsed side hug. He pulls you in tight, and whispers into your hair, "When you get back, we're gonna talk. Okay?"

You don't respond, brushing him off and climbing into the jet. Steve follows you in, dropping his bag next to yours, before turning back to wave at Bucky.

"Don't worry, Buck, I'll take good care of your girl."

His girl. That sounded nice. You shook the thought away before elbowing Steve in the sight. Jokingly of course, but he still doubled over for effect. Bucky burst into laughter.

That was the last thing you saw as the door went up.

The mission was hard. Not terrible - no one died, which was a win in your book - but it wasn't fun. Multiple shootouts, car chases, and three hours of hiding in a dumpster later, you were ready to nap for a week. But, alas, Fury had set a debrief at 8 the next morning, which meant that you had - you checked the clock on your microwave - 6 hours at best.

You dropped your bag on the sofa and headed into the bathroom. You unzipped your utility vest, dropping it on the floor. You needed to disinfect it - god knows what had stained that vest. You pulled up your compression shirt, wincing as the flecks of red came into view. You quickly stripped it off, dropping it in the washing basket, before whipping back around. You caught your own reflection in the mirror and tilted your head, taking in your reflection of your body. Your mother's words played back in your head. Maybe your mother had a point.

You quickly shook your head, dispelling those horrible thoughts from your mind. But still, you continued to stare at your body, scrutinising every feature. I mean, sure you weren't as skinny as you used to be, but that's because you had muscle now, right? And the hamburger you had for lunch was a treat - you know for completing the mission? The super important mission that you were on because you are important and you are somebody and you have value and you are someone without your mum. Don't you? And it's ok that you can't see your ribs because actually you have abs now and that's way more attractive. Right? And.. and... and....

SMASH.

Broken glass was shattered all around you, fragments piercing your skin. Your mirror now had a fist-shaped hole in the middle, from where your sadness had quickly bled into anger.

You cradled your bloodied fist in your hand, sinking to the ground as sobs racked through your body. Glass dug into your knees as they hit the floor and you curled your hands into your chest. Hurtful 'what ifs' swirled through your head, stealing your breath and making it almost impossible to breathe.

Pounding on your door broke you out of your thoughts. You tried to regain your bearings. It was 2 am. You were in your apartment, the apartment that was miles away from the compound, that you lived in alone. Who the hell would be at your door right now?

You were silent, breath bated as you waited for the stranger to go away. They banged on the door again.

"Doll, I swear to god, if you don't let me in, I'm going to break your fucking door down."

You knew that voice anywhere. The knowledge that you weren't alone, that he was here for you, that Bucky wouldn't make you suffer alone brought new tears to your eyes. Fresh sobs burst from your chest as you tried to move. Glass shards were stabbing into your legs, and one of your hands was bleeding profusely. Bucky, your safety net, was so close and yet so far.

"Doll? Doll, I can hear you. Doll, please, please let me in." You could hear the panic in his voice as he struggled with his conscience. You tried to move but the pain was excruciating. A pained scream erupted from your lips.

A loud bang came from your front door, followed by heavy and fast footsteps.

"Where are you, doll? Come on, just come and talk to me." He said, sweeping through your living room. You whimpered from the bathroom, his enhanced hearing focussing on even the smallest of sounds.

He quickly found his way into the bathroom, his eyes raking over your hunched figure, before flitting to the broken mirror and the shards of glass on the ground.

"Oh doll," he whispered, bending down to scoop you up from the floor. He cradled you gently as he carried you from the bathroom into your bedroom. "What happened, doll? Talk to me."

You looked up at him, trying to figure out where to start. You blanked. You couldn't find a good place to start the story that would cause you the least pain. Your mouth opened and closed a few times with no sound coming out. Bucky rested his hand against yours, trying to reassure you to take your time, but the sound of your wince drew his attention to your hands.

"Doll, your hands." He grabbed your hands gently, peering at your knuckles. They were mauled, glass sticking out of torn-up skin, "What did you do?" He stood up, walking into your kitchen to grab the first aid kit he knew was under the sink. Watching him walk around like he owned the place made some small part of your heart happy - it was almost as if your dreams, your darkest-held fantasies, were coming true.

Bucky kneeled in front of you, placing the first aid kit beside him. He brushed all the glass shards off your legs - luckily none of them had been embedded into your skin. He cleaned any small scratches before turning to your knuckles. The sight of your knuckles made him wince and you started to pull them away. Bucky leveled you with a look that said, let me take care of you. You let him. He sterilised a pair of tweezers and got to work pulling the shards of glass out of your knuckles. You sat in silence for a while, Bucky diligently working on your knuckles, and you watching the swiftness with which he worked.

"Why did you punch the mirror, doll?" Bucky asked after a while.

"I was angry," you whispered, your voice deathly quiet. Now that the rage was gone, all you had left was embarrassment.

"And why were you angry?" Bucky coaxed, his eyes pleading for some answers. He pulled out the last shard of glass before swiping an alcohol wipe over your knuckles and bandaging them up. He packed up all the items back into the first aid box and went to put it away and wash his hands.

You were still sat on the bed contemplating your answer when he got back. He knelt in front of you again, before he rested his hands on your face, "Why were you angry doll?"

"I didn't like it." You whispered, pulling your body away from him.

"What didn't you like?" Bucky's eyes stared into yours and you suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. You tried to remove yourself from his all-seeing, mind-reading gaze, but he didn't let you. He pulled you into his lap, and you hid your face in his neck. His beard tickled your forehead as you nestled into him, trying to seek out the comfort you so desperately needed but didn't know how to ask for.

"Me." You said, your head turned away from him as you stared at your hands.

"What?"

"I didn't like me." Your voice started to shake as you tried to find the right words to tell him the truth, the whole honest godforsaken truth, but you couldn't.

Bucky seemed to read your mind, "It's ok, take your time. We don't have to talk about this today. We can come back to it later, when you're feeling up for it, okay?" You nodded, burrowing further into him, "You wanna sleep?"

You nodded again, and Bucky shifted, wrapping his arms around you so he could gently place you down on the bed. He removed his arms from underneath you and tucked you into bed, gently kissing your forehead as you turned to leave. You whined.

"Pleasedon'tgoBuck-" You mumbled, sleep quickly pulling you under. He smiled, perching himself on the end of the bed.

"You sure you want me to say, sweetheart? Not sure you'll ever get rid of me if I stay?"

"I promise. Never want you to go." You said, clinging to his arm and pulling him back into bed.

You slipped into an easy slumber as Bucky shuffled around in your room. Maybe you didn't have to be on your own anymore.

fin.

[lunarbuck]

hi! i love your work, and was wondering if you could make a readerxbucky fic for me? specifically for a reader who is really scared of the dark. something along the lines of one night reader is pissing in the middle of the night and on their way back to their room their fear gets so bad that they end up having a small panic attack and require (bf) buckys help to calm down. plus cuddles at the end ofc!

Thank you for the request!!!

pairing: bucky barnes xf!reader (any race)

wc: 597

summary: bucky comforts you after you have a panic attack

warnings: fear of the dark, panic attack, fluff, comfort, pet name [baby]

masterlist | my requests are open

The lights of the bathroom flicker as another round of thunder shakes the earth. You wash your hands as quickly as possible, barely drying them as you flick off the lights. The nightlight glows, providing you with some relief. Your house is littered with them, illuminating your path just enough for you to find your way back to your room each night.

Another flash of lightning, another rumble of thunder, and a moment later, you’re encased in darkness. All your familiar nightlights shut off, and the hum of the refrigerator down the hall in the kitchen fades.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your blood pumping in your ears. 

You’ve always hated the dark and feared what could happen when you can’t see. The storm shaking your house doesn’t help. If anything, it sends you spiraling.

You feel your way into the hallway, doing your best to find the door to your bedroom, but your feet are like concrete. Your fingers shake, and your head spins. It’s hard to tell which way is up and which way is down.

Tears start to wet your cheeks, and you sink against the wall, hitting the floor a second later. You curl yourself tightly into a ball, willing the lights to just go back on.

Instead, you hear footsteps shuffling toward you. Instantly, you recognize them as Bucky’s. His slippers slap against the floor while he drags his feet sleepily.

“Baby, where are you?” He asks, voice gruff from just waking up. 

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Shit, is the power out?” You hear him run his hands along the wall, walking towards you. When you feel him get close enough, you reach your hand out and find his leg. His flannel pants are soft against your skin and help ground you. “Hey,” he whispers, crouching down next to you.

“Hi,” you whisper. Bucky’s arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you to his chest.

“The thunder woke me up. When I realized you weren’t in bed with me, I got worried,” he explains. He shifts his hand and pulls his phone out of his pocket. The flashlight flips on, and he sets his phone down so the light can brighten up the hallway.

Bucky’s eyes are puffy with sleep, his hair mused and sticking up in odd places. He gives you a soft smile and runs his fingers over the tear tracks on your cheeks. 

You know by now that you don’t have to explain anything to Bucky. He knows how you’re feeling and knows what you need. You’d been embarrassed the first time this happened, but Bucky sent that feeling away instantly. He’s never judged you, never questioned your fear. 

“You wanna stay here, or do you wanna go back to bed with me?” He asks, stroking your cheek. You let him hold the weight of your head as your fingers begin to stop shaking.

“Bed,” you reply. Bucky presses a kiss to your nose and adjusts your position so he can pick you up and carry you into the bedroom. He props up his phone to illuminate the room, but you don’t need it anymore.

When you’d first moved in, you’d stuck those glow-in-the-dark star decals on the ceiling. Now, they glow just enough to make out the constellations you created. Bucky settles into the bed and pulls you into his chest, running his fingers up and down your back.

Even though it takes a while, you eventually fall asleep to the comforting sound of Bucky’s heartbeat and his fingers on your skin.

please message me to be added to a taglist. must be 18+

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[babbygirlblues]

Eavesdropping

Natasha Romanoff x reader 😏

Summary: Natasha overhears the team teasing you about a crush. She’s heartbroken. 

Warnings: Mention of injury, guns, a bit of a make out sesh. Reader is assumed to have male crush. This writing = not my finest prose.

Note: bit of angst, fluff. 3K

Tony’s laugh is loud, it bellows over the top of everyone else's voice. It’s only quieter than his own voice which rings out clearly down the hall. Natasha is half-asleep making her way to Fury with some reports when your name catches her ear.

“Ooooh you don’t just have a crush, Y/L/N’s fully in love!” He roars out.

Love? Natasha pauses in the hallway out of sight. Her heart is suddenly pumping fast and the pulsing blood booms in her ears as she tries to listen. 

“I’m sure he’ll come around Y/N.” Wanda says kindly. 

He? At that, Natasha’s heart stops completely. She can’t hear it beating in her ears anymore. Instead a ringing sound has taken over and she feels sick, dizzy. 

“I don’t know Wanda, I’ve already dropped so many hints. Maybe I finally need to pick up my hint, that he’s just not interested.”

Natasha walks back to her office on shaky legs and pretends that there aren’t tears in her eyes. Her blurry vision obscures the guest chair in her office and she walks right into it. Her documents fall to the ground as she catches herself from tumbling over it. 

“Ow, shit!” She huffs and clutches her knee.

Clint pokes his head in the doorway. “You okay, Nat?”

She glares at him. “Fine.” She grumbles. 

“New mission just got posted. You, me, Y/N and Tony.” He says. “Should be a fun one.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

Natasha bends down to pick up her papers and Clint is surprised by her lack of response. Usually Natasha would be thrilled to get a mission with you, plus a small group means you’ll probably be paired together. Right now, she feels painfully empty about it because clearly it has meant more to her than it does to you. 

Over the next few days Natasha goes out of her way to avoid you, unable to face you while carrying her broken heart. She cancels your weekly movie night over text.

N: Can’t make the movie tonight. Busy.

N: Sorry

y/n: I’ll kill Fury if he’s overworking you again!!

y/n: That’s ok though. Are you ok? 

y/n: Can I help?

The three messages come through within seconds of each other and each one makes the lump in her throat grow. Natasha spends 10 minutes staring at your response but she doesn’t reply. It’s annoying, she thinks, the way you throw her completely off track, spiralling like a crazy person. She decides that she won’t let you do it anymore. 

Determined and head held high, she heads to the kitchen to make a sandwich before her scheduled training session. 

She gets halfway through buttering the first slice of bread before hearing you making your way down the hallway. The sound of your voice makes her melt and she considers dropping this whole facade, but then Bucky’s gravely laugh sounds out alongside yours. 

Fuck. She can’t see this, her heart can’t take it. She drops her knife and it clatters on the bench top. She flinches when the clanging sound rings out loudly through the room, and she abandons her unmade sandwich. She narrowly escapes and you almost catch her exit but all that’s left of her is sandwich ingredients spread over the bench. 

Natasha walks to the gym and regrets not taking at least the bread with her. It's a longer session tonight, some of the recruits have an upcoming graduation examination for SHIELD. Natasha straightens her back as she walks in and acts like nothing is out of the ordinary. And if she’s hungry, snapping at the recruits and hypercritical of their techniques, well that’s a matter between her and her own heart. 

~~~ 

From her window, Natasha catches you and Bucky heading out arm in arm. It’s friday night and she did cancel on you, but her insides burn and she hates how quickly she's been replaced. Maybe she had hoped you would come up looking for her. She starts to imagine Bucky and her fist headed straight for his face. She could be better to you than him! Then the image shifts, Bucky is fine and then you appear and he starts to touch you, kiss you and you let him, you like it. 

The burning starts to reach her heart and despite being freshly showered she charges back to the gym. 

Strike after strike, she hits the heavy bag gloveless. The super serum running through her veins helps to send the bag swinging, the chain holding it to the ceiling screams to be let free. She hits and hits and hits until her knuckles start to bleed. It feels good for a moment, then through her panting breaths she starts to crack. With each exhale, her chest heaves and heartbroken sobs escape from her throat. She sinks to her knees and cries on the floor until all her throat is hoarse and the tears are gone. 

She washes her face in the gym bathroom and creeps back into her room, not wishing to be caught in such a state. Part of her wishes that you would find her and drag her into your room to sleep for the night. 

When she climbs into bed she’s exhausted but her mind won’t let her rest. She feels more alone than ever. She had got in the habit of imagining your voice whispering to her 'good night'. Tonight it's silent and she can no longer convince herself that you'll be there one day to say it to her for real. The tears she thought were gone are back again and she cries herself to sleep into a soaking wet pillow. 

~~~

Little did she know, on the other side of the door, you stood wondering if you would be welcome inside. Wishing she would turn to you instead of herself alone when she’s struggling. 

You continue to check her room everyday and keep an eye out in the compound, but don’t see Natasha until your mission. When you walk in she doesn't acknowledge you at all, next to her, Clint gives you a pointed look while the meeting gets started.

Agent Hill is leading the mission briefing and the whole time your eyes skip across to table to Natasha then to Hill and back to Natasha then to Clint to Natasha to Hill to Natasha. Around in circles waiting for Natasha to look back at you. 

Natasha's eyes stay fixed on the papers in front of her and occasionally drift up to listen to Hill. She looks small in her seat, shoulders hunched and her hair falls to cover her face. For a brief moment as she turns to look at Hill, she gets caught in your gaze. You start to smile at her, the question are you okay? blazing in your eyes, but she quickly looks back down at her papers, timid like a frightened animal and a light blush covering her cheeks. You don’t get to ask it. 

On the quinjet you sit next to her in your usual seat and Natasha’s heart skips a beat. Still, she refuses to look at you, her head stays facing the cockpit so you can’t see her face. Your leg knocks into hers with the turbulence and every time she tries to ignore her desire to turn around and press herself back into you. The thought of you in love with someone else keeps her spine icy and reminds her to keep her distance.

When the two of you head off as a pair, armed and on the lookout for enemy combatants, your eyes don’t leave her and you hope she can feel your gaze burning into her. If there was any doubt in your mind she was avoiding you, it's completely gone given the way she’s acting today. You want to annoy her enough that she finally tells you what you’ve done wrong. 

Almost tripping, twice, should have been a sign to actually watch where you were going. But you keep your eyes stuck stubbornly on Natasha’s back as she leads you into the camp.

You approach a high chain fence with barbed wire at the top, Natasha drops her gun and kneels down to pry apart an opening. “Would you pay attention?” She snarls, glaring up at you before she focuses back on the gate. It’s not exactly ‘mission accomplished’, but it's a start. Since she’s broken the silence between you, you try to ask her a question. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” You whisper while taking a look around to satisfy your job as the lookout. 

“I haven’t -”

Three goons approach from the darkness in a vehicle, shooting out the window. 

You raise your gun to face them and don't move an inch from your stance in front of Natasha. 

Natasha yells your name, before you can take a shot she shoves you in the back and sends you sprawling on the ground. Natasha shoots the driver straight through the head, which sends the vehicle straight into a nearby tree.

When you turn around Natasha is leaning against the fence, pale faced and in pain.

You scramble from the ground and rush towards her.

“Natasha!” You can see her clutching her arm and blood is dripping through her hand and onto the dirt at her feet. You reach out to help her put pressure on it.

“Don’t touch me!”

You freeze in front of her, inches from her arm you slowly start to back yourself away. Shocked by her rejection, you try to focus on helping her another way. You call the team and hold back your tears as you talk to Tony over the comms.

She continues to refuse any help, even as you beg through tears all the way back to the base. The others watch on anxiously, giving you a sympathetic look.

~~~

Natasha spends 50 minutes getting stitched up before Cho’s new machine lets her go looking brand new. You spend that time showering, feeling guilty and getting increasingly more angry. Angry at yourself, angry at Natasha. 

When you hear familiar footsteps walk past your room, you storm out to follow them through Natasha’s door.

“What the hell, Natasha!” You speak with more fire than you knew yourself to have. “What did I do to you? Hm?”

“You got me shot, we could start there.” She says evenly, emotionless.

“No, I was standing there, in front of you. You pushed me!” 

“Of course I pushed you!” She screams at you. Then quieter, she sighs, “Of course, I pushed you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. 

“You know that I would rather get shot than let you take a bullet.” You protest tensely. 

She shrugs.

You groan loudly, frustrated. “You know I would rather take a bullet in my head than let you take one through your toe! So why are you so angry with me?” 

Natasha keeps her gaze locked on the ground between her feet. 

You sigh in defeat. “It’s my fault you got shot.” You say, your heart makes its way to your throat and chokes you. “I just wanted you to stop ignoring me.” 

You wait a moment, then two. But Natasha doesn’t move.

“I’m so sorry, Tash. So sorry” You say earnestly, then turn to leave. 

As you reach her door she speaks up, her voice is thick and it crackles in an accusatory tone. “You didn’t tell me that you liked anyone!” 

She finally makes eye contact with you and you can see tears mixing with the fire in her eyes. “I thought we were friends, but it turns out that Tony gets to hear about your life more than I do.”

“I tell you things I’ve never told anyone. Not even Clint.” She sniffles and her cheeks are glistening wet. She whips at her nose with the back of her hand, “You don’t even care.” She mutters miserably.

You pause and try to let her words register.

“I - what?” You say, confused,

Natasha straightens up. “So? Who is it then? Bucky? And you’re together now?” She insists impatiently.

Each question she shoots off just confuses you more but her red teary eyes start to hint at her problem. It gives you a small burst of confidence that you may not ruin your friendship with a confession, as you had feared. 

“Bucky's a friend and it’s not a guy, Natasha.” you say. “I thought that was obvious.”

Hope grips Natasha’s heart in a strangling hold. 

She clears her throat, “Oh.” 

“I thought the best spy in the world would have figured it out.” You say, a weak smile barely creeping through. You pause for a moment and feel your heart beating so hard your ribs shake with its beat.

Through an aching breath, you tell her simply, “It's you.”

You watch the realisation grow on Natasha’s face until it reaches her eyes and she takes a moment to look at you. 

"Me?" She whispers.

For a moment you shrink under her intense gaze, terrified you’ve lost her. But then Natasha rushes towards you and sends you stumbling backwards as she crashes into you. Instinctively you wrap your arms around her and hold her close. 

Pieces of Natasha's heart slowly slot back into place and she takes in a deep breath of your scent. The coconut shampoo she hates and the wonderful smell of your skin, god she's missed it.

Her hands grip tightly at your hips and she leans in desperately towards your lips. You take a moment to look into her eyes, red and puffy, they're so full of love you want to cry. Then gorgeous red lips capture your attention. You can’t resist any longer and you press your lips softly into hers. 

Her lips are full and soft, heavenly. She runs her tongue over your bottom lip and then she’s slipping in to taste your mouth. She whimpers into your mouth, and you soothe her by tenderly stroking her cheek.

Her kisses become harsher and her force pushes you backwards towards her bed where she presses you down into the mattress.

Red hair falls to frame her face as leans down to kiss you and strong legs climb up to frame your hips. There’s electrifying tension in the space she leaves between you. 

You feel dizzy with the suffocating need to have her skin, smooth and safe against you. Natasha laughs lightly as you roll her onto her back. Your hips remain locked between her legs and she reaches around to the small of your back to encourage you to press down into her harder. Your pelvis rocks down into her instinctively and steals your breath away.

You reach for her hands to press them above her head, dragging your lips over her jaw and down to kiss her neck. The brief shift makes you remember why you’re there.

“Wait Natasha, your arm!” You sit up and try to inspect her upper arm where you saw blood before. Nothing is there. 

“It’s all fixed.” Natasha rasps out. She lies back down and tries to pull you down by the front of your shirt. “It’s ok.” She whispers. 

“It’s not ok! You got hurt - because of me.” you exclaim. You refuse to move down to meet her, so she sits up to face you. “You could have been killed.” you can barely whisper it.

“I wasn’t. I’m fine, Y/N.” she caresses your face gently and you lean into her touch. She moves lower to run her thumb over your swollen lips. You press your forehead to hers. “I always dreamed that I would die protecting you.” She whispers quietly, like a secret.

Your heart soars painfully. “Please, promise me you won’t ever do that.” You reply. You remove her hand from your face and press it into your chest above your heart. “That would kill me.” 

You wrap your fingers around her wrist and bring her hand up to your lips. You press a heated kiss to the centre of her palm. Slowly, you make your way over her wrist, pressing delicate kisses to the skin of her inner arm. You can feel her shiver as you kiss the sensitive skin in the crease of her elbow. Then, you move up to the side of her arm where she got shot and gently press your lips to the new skin, pausing there for a moment. 

Her words continue to resonate through you and you know you’d do the same for her in a heartbeat. It rings disaster in your ears. Tear after tear falls down your cheeks and wets her skin under your mouth.

Natasha gently pulls you up into her arms. You let her manoeuvre the both of you towards the pillows and under her sheets. You lie down to face her and open your arms to gesture for her to cuddle closer. She wraps an arm securely around your waist and nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. 

Natasha thinks about the last three nights she spent crying herself to sleep and sinks deeper into the warmth of your arms

"Good night." She whispers, soft and shy, her lips muffled against your skin.

"Good night, Tasha." You whisper back to her sweetly. The brightest inferno glows under her skin and she almost giggles.

The soft smile beaming on her face lingers even after her eyes close and she's fast asleep.

You whisper another quiet apology, your lips brushing against her hairline and you press a kiss to her forehead. You sleep restlessly, your mind running the same line in a loop, die protecting you, die protecting you, die, die die… 

[myfictionaldreams]

Nightmare // Bucky x reader

Summary: It has been a while since Bucky had a nightmare so when he wakes and sees his hand around your throat, you had to do anything and everything to distract him from spiraling.

Warnings: 18+ readers only, Smut, Dom/sub undertones, face sitting, oral sex, strangulation, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation

Word: 2.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

A low groan was the thing to wake you first and the initial sign that there was something wrong. Opening your eyes quickly you sat up in bed, turned the sidelight on, and turned around to face the cause of the noise, finding your boyfriend, still asleep but sweat glistening off his body, sweat patches appearing over his light grey t-shirt. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he turned his face towards you, moaning again as his brows frowned.

Bucky hadn’t had a nightmare in a while, so your heart started to pound heavily in your chest as he made another sound like a pained animal. Leaning forward, you placed one hand on his left shoulder, where the skin met cold metal, and the other on his right cheek. “Bucky? Wake up, it’s just a dream, wake up-” your whisper caught in your throat as a silver hand as quick as lightning, shot out and gripped your neck tightly. Your hands instantly moved to grip the metal one, attempting to move it but knowing deep down you wouldn’t be able to. Tears escaped your eyes as you gasped against his hand, looking down you saw his eyes were open and looking directly at you, his pupils were huge and they looked lifeless. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t Bucky.

Not being able to draw in a breath, all you could do was mouth his name to him, hoping it would bring him round but after a few attempts it wasn’t working and the tightening feeling around your neck only increased, a pressure building in your head as your lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen. Removing your hands from his metal one, you moved them to either side of his warm face, stroking your thumb across his cheekbones, hoping the stimulation would wake him, this attempt, however, didn’t work so as your eyes started to drop, you swung your left arm back and slapped him as hard as you could across his face.

As soon as your palm connected with his face, the pressure around your neck released and you drew in the best breath you had ever taken. Your throat burned as you took in deep breaths, still feeling dizzy for a few seconds as you hunched over the bed.

“D-Doll?” You heard the man you love shifting so he was on his knees next to you on the bed, his cold hand delicately touching your shoulder. You tried to talk but your vocal cords didn’t seem to respond to you just yet so you sat back up and as you did so, his warm hand delicately cupped your cheek so he could look at your face. He swore under his breath as he saw the tears that had stained your cheeks and the darkening handprint that was forming around your neck.

Swallowing harshly, you wiped the tears off your face and gripped his hand tightly, bringing it to your mouth to kiss it, hoping the action would calm the man before you. It didn’t. 

“I’m, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing, it wasn’t me, I'm sorry” you could see the panic building in his eyes as he moved his hands away from you, scared of hurting you anymore.

Reaching forward you grabbed onto both of his hands, bringing them back to your face, taking another deep breath you whispered “Shhh James, it's ok, it wasn’t you, I know it wasn’t you honey. I’m ok-”

“Don’t say you're ok, you aren’t ok! Fuck, we need to get you to see a doctor, I could have broken your neck,” he moved backward off of the bed, leaving you reaching into the air for him, watching as he hurriedly moved around the room looking for your shoes.

“Bucky stop.” He didn’t stop though, continuing to rush around the room grabbing his phone, starting to call who you assumed was Dr. Banner. Climbing off of the bed, you grabbed his phone from his hands and threw it onto the bed, holding his hands once more. “Bucky, I’m fine, please calm down. Look- these things happen ok? You’ve held me through my nightmares too many times to count. Shuri said she's close to figuring out how to help you not be him.”, you moved your hands to his face so he would stop looking at the floor and to you instead. “I’m ok, please believe me.” His eyes searched over your face, stopping when they reached the mark on your neck.

You knew he wasn’t going to stop looking at what he had done, you needed to distract him, you wanted to kill the tension in the air so you did the thing he would usually do whilst he was calming you down from a nightmare. Reaching onto the very tips of your toes, your hands moved to the base of his neck and you tugged him forward until your lips lightly brushed one another. His only reaction was his body tensing, only slightly kissing you back. “I know what you’re trying to do” he mumbled against your lips, removing your small hands from the back of his neck and taking a step back from you, turning and walking towards the door. “I need to have you checked over-”. You didn’t let him finish his sentence.

“James Barnes come back here and kiss me.” Desperate times call for desperate measures. Your neck still aches but not nearly as much as when it first happened, there may be a small bruise in the morning but you knew that you were fine and you needed him to stay, you needed him. Lifting up his shirt that you wore to bed, you pulled it over your head and dropped it to the floor, leaving you bare for him. The cold air of your bedroom leaves your nipples to tighten as Bucky slowly turns back around to face you, his shoulders tense and eyes dark, shifting over your body. Making sure to catch his eye, you demanded “I said, come here, Bucky, and kiss me. Now.”

“Yes Ma’am”, and within two large strides, his arms slide around your body, gripping your hips and lifting you up his body, his lips smashing onto yours, taking your breath away, in a pleasant way this time. A way you craved.

Your lips slide together, his stubble brushing against your soft skin. Gripping the hair at the base of his neck you pulled slightly, earning you a groan from the super soldier. You felt his warm wet tongue licking at your lips, opening your mouth further you both deepened the kiss, tongues both fighting for dominance as you sighed at the feeling. Bucky was the first to pull away as his lips moved away from yours, and across your cheeks to your jaw. You turned your head to give him access but he quickly stopped when he reached your throat where the warm marks still were.

Moving your face back you opened your eyes to look into his, both of you breathless from the kiss. Unwrapping your legs from him, you slipped down his body, noticing his erection still trapped in his joggers. Not giving him any time to overthink, you spun him around so he stood where you stood and pushed him down so he now led on the bed. Wasting no time, you rushed forward and straddled him, leaning forward so you were chest to chest and once more hungrily kissed him. He groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding over your hips lightly, the contrast of cold and warm hands sending a shiver down your spine.

The kiss became steadily more heated and you couldn’t help the roll of your hips against his groin, a moan coming from both of you at the action. Breaking the kiss, you sat up so you were looking down at him, his lips now slightly swollen, you knew he was still holding back, he never allowed you to be the dominant one in these situations. “Bucky, If I asked you to do something, would you do it?”

“Anything,” he answered breathlessly, his hands still wanding over your hips, up to your sides.

“Please, stop. Holding. Back.” His hands faltered and you could see the uncertainty in his eyes but as he looked deeply into yours, you saw the cord switch within him.

You gasped as he lifted you slightly and he shifted further below you until he was half led off of the bed, your legs either side of his shoulder, his hands wrapped under your thighs and up your back. Not giving you a second to prepare, he used his strength to force your hips down until you were sitting on his face. 

His mouth instantly connected to your clit, sucking harshly, causing your thighs to clench around his head, your hands gripping into his short hair, holding him in place. Your head fell back as he pressed the flat of his tongue against your sweet spot, then started swirling his tongue slowly over your bud, teasing you. Your hips were rocking against his face, his chin grazing your dripping hole, as a moan escaped your mouth, eyes closing as all you could think about were the sensations running through you. Bucky's hands pushed your hips up slightly and his lips detached from your clit and his tongue licked its way down to your hole, circling it slowly before diving in, the warm, soft invasion welcoming, his nose hitting your clit. “Bucky” you whimpered, looking down, your boyfriend's eyes closed in concentration.

Your hands left his hair and reached up to play with your nipples but he was quicker and reached around your hips to grip both of your wrists softly, bringing them behind your back where he held them both in his warm hand, keeping you in place, his other hand moved up you back, the cold sending a shiver through you as he reached to lightly pull on your left nipple. The feeling made you grind harder onto your boyfriend's face, he continued to tongue fuck you as he twisted and pulled on your sensitive nipples, his blue eyes now watching you over your shaved mound, his cock pulsing in his joggers as you continued to moan his name.

Moving his hand to the other nipple to give it the same treatment, you looked down to him, catching his eye and moaning louder as you spotted your swollen nipple and the lust in his eyes as he continued to pleasure you. Releasing your nipple he grabbed your breast roughly before giving it a quick slap, making your thighs clench once more to the welcoming sting. The cold touch of his hand danced down your back as he returned to gripping your hip, his tongue leaving your hole to return to sucking on your clit softly. You could feel the tension slowly reaching your peak as you sucked in quick breaths, your hips rolling harder on his face. “Bucky I’m so close.”

He shifted slightly below you so you were forced to sit up a little, your cunt now hovering over his face, giving him room to bring his free hand between your legs and two cold metal fingers entered you quickly, your wetness and his spit acting as lube as he didn’t give you time to adjust, his fingers pounding into you at a punishing pace, your whole body rocking back and forth. “Don’t stop, that feels so good, please don't stop.”

“That’s it Doll, cum all over my face,” his voice vibrated against you as his sweet mouth quickly attached back onto your clit, sucking hard for a few seconds, releasing and then sucking once more. Your moans bounced off the walls as you felt the overwhelming pleasure take over you, a sloshing noise coming from below you as Bucky continued his rhythm with his fingers as you screamed his name, thighs clenching harshly over him, his lips moving from your bundle of nerves, to lap at the rest of your cunt, trying not missing a single drop of your juices as your squirted all over his face and chest.

Removing his fingers as you started to come down from your orgasm, he sucked them hungrily, moaning at the taste as you leaned back to look down at him, your arms still being held between his large palm. “You taste so sweet”, he smiled up at you, his cheeks glistening with your cum. He turned his head to the side and lightly bit onto your inner thighs, making your breath hitch in your throat, his distraction working as you were suddenly face down on the bed and Bucky was standing behind you on the floor. His metal hand moved to your hip, pulling your body until your legs hanging off the end of the bed, the tip of your toes grazing the floor, his warm hand still had a strong grip on both of your wrists behind your back. “Do you still want me to not hold back darlin’?” He whispered into your ear, he had moved his front against your back.

“Please don’t stop.” You urgently responded, turning your head towards his voice, his breath hitting your cheek as you did so. He chuckled deeply, the noise-making you clench your thighs together. 

“I love you” he kissed your cheek delicately before moving back down your body once more, leaving a trail of soft kisses and bites down your spine.

“I love you too” you spoke quickly back, smiling to yourself as his softness always touched you, even in these most intimate of moments. But he didn’t give you any time to ponder on this as he roughly licked your overly sensitive pussy causing you to gasp into your bed, your hips trying to lift to give more friction. His face moved away from you and he released your arms momentarily as he removed his clothes.

A few seconds later his hand returned to holding your wrists together and his hairy thighs brushed against yours, he lined his leaking tip at your entrance. He spat down into your hole as he slowly entered you, starting with just the tip. The stretching, burning sensation was absolute bliss to you, your hips lifting once more to give him more room, his other hand now moving back to your hip, gripping it roughly and he thrust the remainder of his dick into you, both of you gasping at the feeling. He gave you all but a second to get used to his size before he pulled all the way out and thrust all the way in again, his balls slapping your clit as he did so. He started at a relentless pace, the sounds of your bodies slapping together was like music to his ears, as well as the noises coming from your pretty mouth. His large hands kept you in place as his hips snapped back and forward, he watched as his cock disappeared deep within you, brushing your sweet spot every single time. Releasing your hip he reached down and grabbed your thigh, bringing it up onto the bed and holding it there, giving him an even better and deeper angle as he pounded into you over and over. Sweat was dripping from both of you as the curling sensation built low in your stomach once more. His pace picked up, even if you didn’t think it was possible that he could, his super-soldier serum really was the gift that keeps on giving, you couldn’t even catch your breath to tell him how good it felt as the wave of orgasmic thrill ran through you, your toes, thighs and cunt clenching harshly.

Bucky thought he was truly in heaven in that second, hearing and seeing you come undone by his touch but he didn’t give you any time to relax, his pace continuing. He let go of your leg and moved his metal arm around your hip, down your stomach against the bed, and to your engorged clit. You couldn’t hold back the scream as he rubbed your overstimulated bundle of nerves, his hips perfectly hitting your sweet spot and the urge to cum again already settling over you.

“You going to cum with me Doll? Huh? Think you can do it one more time with me?” He breathlessly asked, his hips thrusting even harder as you screamed yes to him, not being able to think of any other words as your walls clenched around him for the third time and he shouted your name, his hips losing their rhythm and pumping harshly into you, a warm wet feeling filling you up.

He let go of your arms and collapsed onto your back, you could feel your legs shaking against his as he kissed your shoulders, neck, and head. You both stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of one another. Bucky was the first to move, sitting up slowly, his half-limp cock falling out of you, followed by his load, slowly dripping out of you onto the floor. Helping you up, your knees were weak and wobbly as you tried to stand, the liquid now traveling down your inner thighs and Bucky decided it was easier just to carry you, placing one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He kissed you slowly, moving towards the bathroom to clean you up, and made a mental note to grab some ice for your neck which didn’t seem to faze you anymore as you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes.

[buckymylove]

Midnight Snacks

Part two of Movie Night

Message: How about like reader wakes up to the sound Steve made while taking a picture ( light sleepr because hydra) and pretends to be asleep ‘till the others leave and then starts to slip out of bucky but he turns out to be awake too and they just have a late night snack or talk about how she’s welcome and referencing from his own experience.

Warnings: food fight! Lol, tons of fluff, mentions of hydra/torture ish?

Word count : 4,400

A/n: MASSIVE thank you and shout out to the wonderful orihimi-19, for helping me with this idea! Sending loads of love.🤍🤍 Im so sorry this took so long, i started this blog when I was in quarantine and have barely had time to write since 🤦‍♀️ Hope this lives up to the first one 😬 xx

Please do not translate or steal any of my works! Reblogs and likes are welcome and much appreciated if you would like! X

'Click'. It was only a faint noise in the background followed by muffled voices that you could barely make out. You tensed for a moment after being woken from your seemingly deep sleep. After the years you spent with Hydra you'd become used to being hyper aware of surroundings even when asleep - not that you ever got much sleep there - and it was a habit that since living with the avengers had slowly began to get better but was still very much there.

You caught the end of someone speaking, you picked up the word "photo". At this point you were beginning to wake but trying to stay completely still and keep up the image of being totally unaware of the happenings around you to calculate your next move in case you were in some sort of danger, briefly forgetting where you were and who you were with.

You suddenly became aware of a weight wrapped, securely but not tightly, around your waist and a warm, weirdly comforting presence behind you.

Then it all made sense. The voice you had heard was Nat's, the word 'photo' came back to your mind and you realised the sound you had heard was a camera. You were at the compound, with the avengers, you're new family. The thing behind you was in fact Bucky, the heavy mass laying over your waist - his beautiful black and gold vibranium arm. You relaxed as you came to your senses and discovered that you were in fact completely safe remembering the movie night that Bucky had so kindly invited you too, you had really enjoyed it but your thoughts went whirling again. When did you fall asleep?

Wait.

Bucky.

Why was Bucky's arm around you? Was he asleep too?

At this your eyes flew open, wide and slightly panicked. You were even more confused when you found the dark room completely empty. The only indicator that you hadn't dreamt up hearing the voices of your fellow avengers just minutes ago were the blankets, throw pillows and snack remnants lying around the room. You turned your head slightly to see that the tv was off so the movie must have finished, maybe they just went to bed? But then why were you and Bucky still there, cuddled up on the sofa? Oh god what if he's uncomfortable? Did I make us end up like this when I fell

asleep? What if he cant move?

You were spiralling in your own head to much to notice Bucky rouse from sleep behind you. He too had trouble getting proper sleep but he had gotten a lot better with his time with the avengers and the nightmares and sleepless nights seemed to be an increasingly rare occasion for him now. He'd felt you fidgeting and caught on to the fact that you'd tensed up. But what concerned him most was the sound of your breathing that had turned short and rapid. He could almost feel the panic coming off you in waves. He was immediately concerned that he had made you uncomfortable when he realised how you were both positioned. He loosened his arm around you and sat up slightly to get a look at your face to see that you were in fact awake, wide eyes staring ahead of you.

"Doll?" He whispered.

You didnt seem to even notice he had woken up.

"Doll?" He spoke just a little bit louder to try to get your attention without startling you. This time, it worked and you jumped slightly and turned quickly in his loose hold to face him. You pulled away from him slightly trying to create space between the two of you whilst still being in his arms.

"I'm so sorry Bucky, I didn't mean to put you in this position" you mumbled frantically. "I shouldn't have come last night im sorry-" "Hey no, doll look, my arm is wrapped around you" he chuckled slightly trying to keep it light and calm you. When that didn't work and he saw that you still looked guilty and uncomfortable, he continued.

"If anything I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, you fell asleep during the movie and your neck was in an awkward position, I moved you slightly and I guess when we both fell asleep we ended up like this, its really not a problem but I understand if you don't like it. When I came to the compound I didn't like anyone in my personal space, not even Steve. No ones going to be mad at you for needing some time to adjust."

It was mostly dark in the room but the light from the kitchen illuminated his face enough for you to see the soft smile he gave you, you let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding as you smiled back. He felt a wave of relief as he felt you relax, the tight tension dropping from your shoulders. "Thanks Bucky, it feels good to have someone who knows how I'm feeling" you said quietly. Bucky was almost shocked seeing as that was probably the most you'd ever talked to anyone here but you didn't catch it as he was almost beaming with joy at the fact that you were starting to let some of your walls down. You couldn't calm down the butterflies in your stomach at the sight of his beautiful smile. When you realised you'd been staring at each other for a little while you hurriedly turn your head trying to process the thoughts running through your mind.

"I'm hungry" he declared noticing the tension. You took that as your queue to stand up and he followed then lead the way to the kitchen.

"You?" He turned to ask you. You'd been slowly building up an appetite since being at the compound and you hadn't eaten much all day so you responded, "yeah, I could eat" still quietly but feeling an edge of confidence, certainly better now that it was just you and Bucky. The rest of the team were amazing but being with all of them at once was a bit overwhelming, however the last few weeks had felt a little lonely despite choosing to stay mostly in your room so it was nice to have the company of just Bucky for a while.

He smiled, glad that you had found a part of your voice, and excited to help you find the rest of it so that you could finally feel like yourself after all those years.

He went over to the cabinets, stocked with nearly everything you could imagine thanks to Tony, although if we're being honest it was more for selfish reasons since Tony was so sick of everyone grumbling that there was never any food. Tony was convinced they were all just picky eaters, "earths mightiest heroes my ass you're all a bunch of princesses" was something he had actually said to them before which they certainly did not appreciate and tony ended up in a choke hold courtesy of Nat.

"What ya feelin?" He asked looking from the cabinets back over to you. You were just sort of standing awkwardly by the kitchen island not sure what to do with yourself. Bucky tried to cover his amused smirk as he watched you be- well completely adorable in his opinion.

"You can sit down doll, I'll make ya something"

"Oh no- it’s ok uh thank you though" you didn't want to cause him any trouble, but you did as he suggested and sat down on one of the stalls.

"It's no problem at all, how'd ya feel about pancakes?"

You froze and stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. "Pan cakes? I thought cakes were made in ovens?" You questioned timidly. You felt kinda stupid despite it being none of your fault as you were taken by hydra when you practically still a baby.

You have a very vague and distant memory of sitting in front of cake, 2 single candles on top and someone, you assumed your dad, smiling in front of you. You even remember being handed a small slice of cake on two occasions at hydra. You were young and never told what the reason behind it was.

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at the confused expression on your face but he felt bad when he saw your face fall.

" 'm sorry doll, you just look real cute when you're confused" 'you always look cute' he wanted to say but stopped himself.

A faint blush dusted your cheeks. You didn't know what you were starting to feel for bucky, you'd never felt it before you just knew it was different and that it was a good feeling.

"Look" he pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed something on it before turning it around so you could see it. There was a picture of a flat yet fluffy bread looking thing on the screen, there was a golden liquid drizzled over the top. You looked at it with shining eyes. "What's the goo stuff?" You asked him, eyes wide with curiosity. Bucky smiled at you, "thats maple syrup, delicious stuff you gotta try it" you finally looked away from the screen to smile up at him, "Ok".

He stood up, sending you a wink before tucking his phone back in his pocket.

He turned back at began grabbing stuff out of the cabinets. You saw him get eggs, flour and a pan out of the cupboards and laying it all out along with some other equipment he needed.

You watched on with curious eyes but felt bad watching him do all the work. "Is there anything I can do to help?" He was about to tell you it was no problem but looked back to see the hopeful expression on your face and once again had to try and hide the small curve of his lips. "If you wanna help then sure. c'mere" you beamed back at him as you clambered of the stall to come stand by him, and bucky made the decision right then that he would do anything to see you smile like that again.

He broke out of his daze when he saw your slightly clueless look, having no idea how to proceed with the items in front of you.

"Ok, im gonna put the stuff in here and you just gotta stir it together, make sure there's no lumps" he said, jokingly pointing his finger at you as if he was giving you a seriously important task. He handed you the whisk and you happily took it waiting for your orders to start mixing. He dumped some flour in the bowl, not bothering to measure since he made them all the time, and then cracked the egg into the bowl. "Mix that while I get the milk."

You did as he said and did your best to make the gooey mess into a smooth mixture as he poured out some milk. You stopped mixing to let him pour the milk in but clearly bucky was a bit too excited for the pancakes as he carelessly dumped the milk in the bowl letting it splash all over the place and getting you right in the face. Your jaw dropped open and bucky tried his absolute best not to laugh. "Oops - sorry doll" he said but you knew he wasn't. You turned to him with furrowed brows, jaw still hanging open and it was at that point that he lost it. He burst out laughing and you tried to look annoyed but ended up laughing with him.

With no idea it where it came from, a wave of confidence came over you and you grabbed a small handful of flour from the bag and through it at him.

He froze when he inhaled a mouthful of the disgusting stuff coughing for a second looking at you in complete shock. You panicked then thinking you'd over stepped but he just grabbed another egg and looked at you. "Oh its on" if you hadn't known he was playing around you would've been slightly scared but you barely had time to react before he smashed the egg on top of your head.

You squealed in horror as you felt in running down your face and scrunched yourself up as if a bucket of ice water had just been dumped down your back. Bucky was howling with laughter, pancakes long forgotten but he totally missed you grabbing a handful of the mixture before you smeared it right over his face. You were surprised at your own actions but couldn't help the uncontrollable giggles as you looked at bucky covered in pancake batter, assuming you looked pretty much the same.

The food fight continued until you'd literally run out of things to dump on each other. The kitchen was a complete mess, you hadn't got any further with making the pancakes and you and Bucky were covered head to toe in a sticky mess but neither of you could care less about any of that while you both sat on the floor howling with laughter and rolling around in the mess you'd created. You hadn't felt this happy literally since you could remember and Bucky felt almost the same way. It wasn't just the chaos you'd created that was making him happy but also the look of pure carefree joy on your face that made him absolutely elated. The laughter eventually died down and you were left staring at each other again but this time it wasn't awkward.

You hadn't realised how close the two of you had gotten until just then, on the floor faces mere inches away from each other. This time you didn't turn away. You couldn't. His eyes were literally mesmerising, the beautiful sea of blue looked right back at you.

Bucky was so incredibly proud of you and so so grateful for you to be willing to open up to him. In just one night you'd gone from barely talking to having a full on food fight. Granted it was just you and him, you still had a long way to go in regards to the rest of the team and eventually the rest of the world but right now you were doing amazingly despite everything you'd gone through. He felt so lucky to be the one that got to see the first glimpses of your incredible, blooming personality.

"We never did get any food" he whispered with a slight chuckle.

Your smile widened and you shook your head.

"How about bagels, I don't think pancakes are are an option right now" he questioned and you laughed. Bagels you did know.

"Yeah bagels sound good"

He got up, and, ever the gentleman, offered you his arm to guide you to your feet and not slip in the mess around you.

You looked around at said mess and felt a pang of guilt. "I'll clean up while you get the bagels" you bent down to start picking up eggshells. " don't be silly doll your not cleaning this up on your own.... Ya know what? it's kinda late what d'ya say we deal with this in the morning?" He said with a cheeky smirk.

"Wont they be mad?"

"Meh, they'll get over it. And if they don't I'll take full blame." He saw you about to protest, "uh uh uh no objections, I started it, plus that way most of them will be all over you with the "I'm sorry you had to deal with him" stuff so it'll just make them like you more."

You laughed but stopped to ask him, "you think they like me? I haven't been much fun"

"Of course they like you doll, they just don't know you that well yet, and they completely understand that you might not be ready to open up, they've all had their shit. I know they seem like the worlds biggest jerks but they're actually big softies, they'll get to know you and come to like you as much as I do" he sent you a big goofy grin and you couldn't help but blush at his words - again.

You still felt slightly guilty about the mess but didn't want to protest.

Bucky brought over two plain buttered bagels, you sat at the counter together to eat them.

"How d'ya like living here so far? You don't have to answer anything, I just remember finding it a bit over whelming, no ones being to much of an ass to you right? I know they're annoying but I'll l beat em up if they're pissing you off" you both chuckled at that. He joked about them but you could tell it was only that - joking. Bucky had actually come to love the team, as annoying as they can be.

"I really like it. I mean anything is an upgrade from hydra but this is definitely the best of the best. I don't know them very well yet, but im extremely grateful for the team, i cant imagine having to welcome someone in to a close family type situation but they've all been amazing. Especially you, thank you Bucky." You looked at him trying to convey your immense appreciation in your eyes. You'd started to feel your own personality coming through and it was thanks to him.

"Your extremely welcome doll, I just wanted you to know there was someone there for you. And about the team - don't worry at all, this family is ever expanding - pretty much anyone is welcome here. 'The Avengers' isn't just our job title its our family name" he chuckled. Your heart melted at that. You knew about bucky's past and you would argue that he'd suffered far worse than you, and yet here he was talking about his new found family with a bright smile on his face. It gave you so much hope and courage for how you could become, it was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, discovering that you could finally have your own life, with a family and friends. It made you think about everything you had finally been rewarded rather than everything hydra had taken from you.

"Your gonna be just fine doll, promise and I'm here for you whenever you need me. Please don't take that lightly. Anytime you feel that you need me for anything you call for me ok?" Your eyes glazed over and you felt another surge of unexpected confidence. You did what only felt right in that moment and threw your arms around his neck in a warm hug. He was surprised but his arms quickly came to wrap around your waist. You sat in the tight, warm embrace for a while with a feeling you couldn't describe. For so long touch had meant pain, and the same went for Bucky, but this was nothing but warm, comforting and caring.

Eventually and slightly reluctantly you pulled away from each other. "Thank you so much Bucky, for everything" he just smiled and brought his arm up to swipe a patch of flour off your forehead, gently with his thumb. His fingers lingered on your face longer than necessary and he brought his hand down to your cheek with featherlight touches. Your cheeks heated at the intimate gesture and you made no move to pull away and ruin this moment. You leaned into his touch ever so slightly which gave bucky the sign that you were okay. He brought his other hand up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear then cupped your face in his large calloused hands. You closed your eyes at the sensation. He leaned towards you, and you did the same, following his lead. Barely two inches separated you now. "You okay with this doll?" He whispered carefully, like he was afraid this moment could blow away at any second.

"Yes Bucky" you replied with the same volume. Your eyes were still closed but you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

He finally closed the gap, brushing his lips over yours so gently they almost didn't meet, giving you the chance to pull away or change your mind. When neither of those things happened Bucky took the chance to capture your lips in his own. Sucking so gently on your upper lip and pulling the sweetest sound from your throat. Letting go and pecking your lips once more before pulling away just enough to look at you.

Your eyes were still closed and your mouth was parted in pure bliss. Bucky, still cradling your face in his palms, admired your blissed out expression with an amused smirk on his lips. When you finally opened your eyes and saw him staring back at you, your blush deepened under his gaze. Bucky placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. "Your so beautiful" he murmured against your skin. Your face turned redder still (if that was even possible) at his words and his smile widened. He would take every chance he could to make you blush like that. It was the purest most adorable sight he'd ever seen.

You stared at each other for a little while longer before your eyes were forced closed in a yawn and you leaned forward to lay on his chest. Bucky chuckled. "Lets get you to bed doll"

"I think I need to shower first" you murmured tiredly. "Yeah.." he looked at the flour and egg that was now dried up all over the both of you"you might be right" you both chuckled.

You let out another yawn a bucky looked at you with a fond smile. "C'mon doll"

You'd almost fallen asleep on hist chest at this point. "You want me to carry you sweetheart" you let out a sound that sort of resembled a laugh in your sleepy state because you thought he was joking, but quickly realised you were mistaken as he stood up, taking you with him and wrapping your legs around his waist. You didn't protest and simply relaxed against him once more, your face buried in the crook of his neck, and let him carry you to your room. His room was on the way to yours from the kitchen and by the time he'd made it there you'd fallen dead asleep in his arms. He decided there was no way you would have the energy for a shower right now so he took you into his room and gently laid you in his bed deciding to worry about the mess and his sheets in the morning. He went to his bathroom, took off his shirt that was completely destroyed with pancake batter and then grabbed a towel, running it under warm water and going back to you.

He gently wiped your face clean and managed to get some of the mess out of your hair. He stood up fully intending on just sleeping on his couch tonight he felt you grab his arm. He looked back down at you and saw that your eyes will still closed and you were definitely still half asleep.

"Don't go" you mumbled, bucky could barely make out your words in your sleepy state and he wanted to be sure before he just assumed.

"You want me to stay here doll?" He whispered in the dark.

"Humamph mmm cuddles" Bucky chuckled at the unintelligible sounds you'd tried to communicate, but he did pick up on one word.

"You want cuddles?" He chuckled.

"Mmhm" was the only response he got.

He climbed into the bed next to you and hesitantly wrapped his arm around your waist still cautious of making sure you were comfortable, but as soon as he'd stopped moving you'd turned over to bury your face in his bare chest. He looked down at your sleeping form unable to wipe the giddy smile off his face when he saw how relaxed and absolutely angelic you looked. It wasn't long before he joined you in a deep, peaceful sleep.

*****

The next morning you and Bucky woke, much like you had the previous night, cuddled together, only this time there was no awkwardness or panic, just soft smiles and a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead.

Your peaceful bubble was pretty much destroyed as the door burst open to the sight of a very pissed of Sam, other grumpy avengers appearing behind him. You froze slightly panicked at the sudden appearance of everyone but Bucky squeezed you gently in his arms effectively erasing your panic. You watched as each of the avengers, the earths 'mightiest heroes' all melted to putty at the sight at the two of you curled up.

There was a chorus off 'awwss' and cooes from the team, other than Natasha who looked at you with a smirk. "This is adorable but we know you made that mess in the kitchen and you're going to clean it up, she winked before shutting the door. You heard her shooing the others way and turned to look at Bucky with a blush covering your face and a timid smile. He just chuckled and placed a kiss to your nose.

*****

Later that day, you were in the kitchen with some of the team, bucky obviously standing by your side, and Sam was proudly displaying the picture from the night before with you two curled up on the couch. You'd blushed at the image and bucky had beamed brightly pulling you into his side and placing a kiss on your cheek. You thought back to when you had heard the 'click' of a camera. So thats what that was, you concluded, slightly amused at the teams reactions to you and Bucky. "I thought it was a great picture opportunity, pretty proud of it actually" Steve beamed, failing to mention how he had fumbled with phone and ended up dropping it in a bowl of popcorn. 'Punk' Bucky thought seemingly annoyed but with a fond smile on his face as he looked at the photo then back to you.

Yeah. You'd be just fine.

@orihimi-19 @natswife3000 (couldn’t tag? :( )

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Panic | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! Catch me writing fanfic on my lunch break lol. I hope everyone is having a lovely day and I hope you enjoy this lil something that I was able to hammer out while my students were at lunch. :)

Please message me with any questions, comments, concerns, or suggestions! 💜

**TW: Mention of panic attack**

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

Last night had been particularly bad for Bucky. This happened every so often, and you were mostly used to it by now. Something would set him off and he'd go down the rabbit hole, spiraling deeper and deeper into guilt and self-hatred. Without fail, he always ended up asking why you were with him, how you could stand to be sleeping next to a murderer every night.

Every time this happened, he'd make mention of leaving. He'd mutter something about not deserving you. Not being good enough for you. He'd tell you he was going to leave, that he would pack a few things and be out in no time so you could live your life without being burdened by him.

And every time, you'd talk him down. You'd remind him of who he really is, what he means to you, and how utterly broken you'd be if he left. You'd remind him that he never has been and never will be a burden. You'd pull him in tight, letting him rest his head on your chest while you played with his hair. It would calm him enough so he could eventually fall asleep, and you'd follow shortly thereafter. You'd wake up the next morning with his heavy body still on top of yours, his strong arms wound tightly around your waist.

But not today. No, this morning was different. You woke up alone. Touching the sheets on Bucky's side of the bed, you realized they were cold- his body heat long gone. His nightstand caught your eye and you saw that his phone was missing. The apartment was silent. You strained for any sound indicating he was home but heard nothing.

"Bucky?" you called out, hearing your voice echo through the empty hallways. Nothing.

You sprung out of bed and raced to check every room for him. Empty study, empty bathroom, empty hall. You turned the corner and rushed into the kitchen, colliding with your super soldier boyfriend.

"Woah, woah, hey!" he caught you with one hand and removed his headphones with the other. "Where's the fire, babe?" He looked at you with pure amusement, wondering what was causing your early morning antics.

"I- I thought...I thought you-" you stammered.

You hadn't realized until this moment just how tight your chest had become. You slid down the wall and finally came to a stop when your ass hit the floor. Tears filled your eyes and clouded your vision while you felt sharp, shallow breaths entering your lungs at an alarming rate.

"Hey, hey," Bucky knelt beside you, worry creasing his brow, "You're okay. Everything's okay..."

But it was too late. You were already in the midst of a panic attack. It had been years since your last one, but the thought of Bucky leaving in the middle of the night had been enough to trigger it. You struggled to catch your breath and felt hot tears steadily streaming down your face. Bucky sat down in front of you, wiping your tears and clearing your vision.

"Baby, hey. Look at me, okay?" he tried to get you to focus on anything besides the panic flooding your body, but to no avail. "I need you to look at me, doll. You're gonna breathe with me, alright?" He motioned for you to inhale with him, keeping your eyes intensely locked with his. You exhaled with him before taking another inhale on his command.

"You're doing great, sweets" he whispered, "let's keep going".

Your hammering heartbeat began to slow after a few minutes and you felt the burning slowly recede from your lungs. Bucky made you do a few more rounds of breathing with him before kissing you on the forehead.

"I'll be right back", he promised as he ran to get you a glass of water.

You buried your face in your hands, trying to banish your negative thoughts. Bucky hurried back and handed you the glass. You took a few small sips, your hand shaking slightly as you did so. He took the drink from you and brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your palm gently a few times.

"Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

You leaned your head back against the wall and let out a sigh. "It's not a big deal. I just- I woke up, and you weren't there. And neither was your phone. So I started thinking about last night and all the things you said and-" you could feel yourself getting worked up again, so you paused for a moment to catch your breath. "And I called out to you, but you didn't answer- I thought you left, Buck...and I panicked."

Bucky wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you into his lap, holding you tight against his body. "I'm right here. I went for a run this morning to clear my head and still had my head phones in when I got home. My bad, baby. I didn't mean to scare you," he held you just a bit tighter, pulling you against his chest.

You shook your head, "No, Buck. It's okay, you dont have to apologize. I just got nervous, that's all."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "I know what I said, and I know I go through some weird stuff sometimes..." he took your face in his hands, his eyes boring into yours.

"But I could never leave you. I promise".

[whirlybirbs]

         (  chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes​​ from this lovely set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

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Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.  

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

[toomanyrobins2]

a little birdie told me pt. 16

Summary: Y/N “Birdie” Parker left New York and her family three years ago in the middle of the night. Now, a call for help to her best friend brings her back into the fold of the Three Families and their “business.”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Parker!Reader

Content warning: physical abuse, miscarriage, mentions of forced marriage, sex, mentions of alcohol abuse

series masterlist // next part

After the situation had been explained, they all separated to start damage control. Y/N stayed behind with Bucky, waiting to see if the doctors could tell them anything else. Jaime was asleep on the brunet’s broad chest as Y/N paced back and forth. She couldn’t sit still and kept moving until a nurse came over to tell them that visiting hours were over and they could come back the next day.

Y/N was functioning completely on autopilot, imagining every scenario where Brock jumped out and shot Steve. Even when they got back to the apartment, she felt like she was moving through water. She managed to feed and bathe Jamie and put him to bed. He had been having trouble sleeping for weeks and now that Steve wasn’t there to settle him, the baby was determined to be wide awake. She felt like pulling her hair out, but eventually, she managed to get him settled.

The minute she walked out of the nursery, she was greeted by Bucky and Peter, who had arrived to help out when the former had seen Y/N spiraling. Her brother put a glass of wine on the coffee table. She sat down on the couch and dropped her face into her hands, ignoring the alcohol she wished she could drink, “When did it all get so fucked up? I thought when I left Brock that I had gotten the lowest I could possibly get. Except now I am home alone with my grumpy, teething baby, while my fiancé is in the hospital after killing my abusive ex? I don't know how to do this Peter! I don’t know whether I should scream or cry. I am fighting every instinct I have to run and it’s killing me.” He had come to sit next to her and she dropped her head onto his shoulder, “I just want mom.”

“Okay, I’ll give her a call.” Peter went out to call Pepper and when he came back into the apartment, Y/N wasn’t in the living room. She walked out of the nursery, with Jamie in her arms. “That lasted a good 10 minutes. Will you grab one of the teething rings from the freezer.”

Bucky walked over with the ring, “Why don’t you get changed, Birdie. I’ve got him for a few minutes.” Y/N disappeared into the master bedroom and came out in one of Steve’s shirts and pajama pants with penguins on them. Steve had laughed when he had first seen them and the memory made her smile whenever she wore them. Settling back onto the couch with Jamie in her arms, she watched as Bucky puttered around the kitchen. Both mom and baby had red-rimmed eyes from lack of sleep and tears, making a truly pitiful-looking pair.

A knock on the door broke Y/N from her thoughts. Peter got up and let Pepper into the apartment. “Eat.” Her mom dropped a bag in front of her.

“You got me Galletti’s?”

“It’s still your favorite, right? Give me my grandbaby and eat your food.” Pepper took Jaime, bouncing up and down until he was fast asleep against her shoulder. Y/N had quickly tucked into the food, the first proper meal she’d had in ages.

Y/N had finished eating and was struggling to keep her eyes open. “You should get some sleep, Birdie.”

“But, Jamie…”

“I’ve got him. It’ll be good practice for me.” Y/N was beyond arguing, she just walked into the room and curled up in bed.

“How did you do that?” Bucky and Peter were in shock. Pepper just shrugged and smirked at the two men.

Y/N woke up around seven in the morning, feeling more well-rested than she had in weeks. Walking out into the living room, she had to stifle a laugh. Pepper was in the kitchen looking as polished as ever, while Bucky and Peter were sprawled across the living room. She was pretty sure that the latter was drooling, but didn’t want to get close enough to confirm. Pepper greeted her with a kiss on the forehead and a cup of coffee. Y/N stared down at the sweet, sweet drink that she couldn’t drink for another 8 months. She pushed the mug away and shook her head, “I can’t drink that.”

Pepper’s brow furrowed, “I thought that’s how you took it. I can make a fresh pot.”

“That’d be pointless, Mom. I can’t have caffeine anyway right now.”

“Oh. Oh!” The older woman smiled sadly, “Oh, Y/N. How long have you known?”

“Your birthday,” Y/N winced, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

“You tell everyone at your own pace and not before. It’s not their business. Have you been to see a doctor?”

“No, not yet. But, I took like 12 tests and they all came out positive.”

“Do you know how far along you are?” Y/N’s mind wandered back to that night in the hotel where they’d both been too drunk on champagne and each other to think about protection. She should have been smarter than this. God, this was the second unplanned pregnancy in a year. The glaring difference was that this one didn’t put the same pit in her stomach as the last one had. She came back to the moment and nodded, her face feeling warm with the memory. Pepper laughed at the sheepish look on Y/N’s face, “It’s hard to believe you are going to have two under two.”

Y/N groaned and dropped her head on the countertop, “Don’t remind me. I can’t even begin to imagine how Steve is going to react to all of this once he’s awake.”

“Birdie,” Pepper switched from happy to stern, “No matter what has happened between you, Steve loves you. He is going to be ecstatic about this and I’m convinced you will get past this. Just take it one day at a time.”

“Right…one day at a time.”

**************************************

@founding-fuck-bois

@animegirlgeeky

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@directorsnarrative

@spntiel

@hollandstanevans

@samwinter09

@marvelofwitch

@mycosmicparadise

@l0ve-0f-my-lifee-blog

@austynparksandpizza

@lharrietg

@bluemoon-icecream

@ren-ni

@dottirose

[yuulina-vre]

Cuddles

Fauna’s save heaven

Summary: Y/N has trouble sleeping and shifting only helps for that long. Bucky and Steve are the best help.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Wordcount: 4555 words

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping and violence, Nightmares

Masterlist

“Y/N? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” Y/N’s head snaps up from the spot she had been staring at. The others around the table stare at her. Tony especially looks annoyed since she hasn’t listened to the mission briefing at all. This time he actually tried to turn his rambling down. The others just look amused, maybe with a little bit of concern. Bucky’s the only one who really looks worried. He grabs her hand under the table, squeezing it lightly. “No, I’m sorry, I’m listening now.” She ducks her head in shame, clearly embarrassed but Tony seems satisfied enough and continues talking. She tries to listen and pay attention. She really does but her head hurts and her eyes are heavy with sleepiness. “Did you manage to sleep at all?” Bucky’s voice whispers in her ear as he leans in a bit. “No.” She whispers back. Her voice is so silent that she worries if he even had heard her. “Y/N…” Bucky sighs knowingly but defeated and squeezes her hand again. She only looks briefly at him before her gaze falls back to her lap where Bucky’s hand clutches hers. “Alright. I have enough. Do you two want to share something with the class?” They both look up. Tony’s arms are crossed, glare directed at them, though, he’s the only one who seems annoyed. The rest are just watching, waiting for reactions. “No.” Y/N whispers but Bucky’s answer different. “She hasn’t been sleeping for days. She needs a break.”

“Bucky!” Now she’s the one glaring at him, trying to get her hand out of his but Bucky tightens his grip. “Why?” Sam pipes up, the concern now on his face, too. Bucky’s eyes meet her eyes, silently asking if she wants to tell them what’s up but she shakes her head nearly not noticeable. “She has nightmares. The bad ones.” That’s enough. They all know what that means. Dreams of kidnappings, torture. Experiments. For four years of her life, when she was only seven years old, she got kidnapped from her home. The people that took her got her across the whole country to a facility where other people with similar abilities to hers were kept. Four years of her life, the years in which children learn a lot, where children should have the happiest time because that’s the period of time that forms who they are going to be later on, were spent in constant fear and pain. She never told them what these people had done to her, not in any detail at least. Only Bucky and Steve have a vague idea and only because she once said that Bucky had suffered just as bad as she did and Steve’s the only one who make living with it a little better. This one little sentence had shattered their world for a week. They weren’t able to understand how someone could do things, these kinds of things, to a child.

“Then… Go to bed.”

“What?”

“Out of the room and to bed.” A cold shudder runs down her back. For a split second a picture flames up in front of her. Someone’s scolding her, sending her to the bed, a bed with nails. The picture is gone as fast as it came but Y/N lifts herself from the chair, slowly. She tenses and she knows that Bucky sees it, that he wants to get up with her. But she doesn’t want him to get punished too, so she squeezes his hand and leaves the room. Funny thinking, they would punish her. Tony never punishes her, where did that come from? “Y/N! Wait a second.” She stops, back tensing again, worried she did something wrong but the warm hand on her lower back feels like a lifeline, like comfort. She turns her head to see Sam smiling at her. “You know Tony didn’t mean it like a punishment, right? It just came out wrong, he’s worried.”

“I know.” She mumbles silently but Sam catches it and nods. “The nightmares. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-I…” She swallows thickly. Can she tell him that she was afraid of what he would say? That he would laugh? “Hey.” His hand lightly lifts from her back to be placed on her arm. “You remember what we talked about? You don’t need to tell me what’s up. You don’t need to do anything, but I’m here when you want to talk and I listen, not judge. Just like the rest of us.”

“I know.”

“Good.” The man nods and grins again. He quickly looks back to the conference room and then to her. “What do you think about the thing we did last time? You think it would help now?” Y/N’s eyes stay on Sam’s face. “I-I don’t know.”

“Well, why don’t you go to your room and shift? I’ll come in a minute and pick you up. We can at least try.”

“Okay.” She nods and Sam squeezes her arm in comfort. Silently she walks down the hall to the elevator. FRIDAY does her job without Y/N doing anything. The AI gets her down to her floor without a hitch. Back in her room, Y/N falls down on her bed with a heavy sigh. How come she’s so miserable these last few days? What triggered it? There were no missions she had attended, no briefings, no reports. She hasn’t talked to her parents or about anything from these four years. So why are the dreams torturing her right now? Where is it coming from so suddenly?

She closes her eyes, only to open them again. The pictures start flashing as soon as they’re closed. With another heavy sigh, she sits up. Her back is tense, just like her shoulders. Her headache gets worse with her anxiety spiraling. “Are you ready?” The knock startles her a little. “A-a moment, please.” She stutters, gets up, and quickly sheds out of her dress and underwear. Then she concentrates. Sam usually asks her to change into a smaller animal, something that fits into the pockets of his hoodie or can easily be carried around. This way he can keep her calm and steady but still do his work. Sometimes Y/N settles for mice or a flying squirrel but today she doesn’t feel it. Instead, she concentrates on something else. She doesn’t want to sleep in a dark pocket. It will encourage other memories she rather forgets. So, she slowly shifts until she sits finished on the ground. Running over to the door she makes a small screeching sound. The door opens quickly, revealing Sam. ��Well, this is new. Monkey?” He smiles and crouches down, holding his hand out for her to climb up on his arm until she can rest on his shoulder. Her tail wraps around his bicep to hold on tight while one of her hands grabs Sam's ear. “Okay, here we go.” Sam walks slowly, making sure she’s not falling off until he reaches the conference room again. Everybody turns to look at him. “Is that…” Tony looks confused but Wanda coos instantly. “Oh my god. She’s so cute.”

“It’s a squirrel monkey, right?” Bruce looks closer at her and she nods. “We have watched some documentaries in the hope for her to fall asleep. I think one of them was about Primates or something.” Sam hums, probably connecting the dots while he walks back to his seat to sit down. “Come on, down.” He holds his hands to his lap, motioning for her to climb on his lap but Y/N doesn’t want to sleep down there. Instead, she climbs down from his shoulder but only halfway. She stops at his chest, holding tight to his shirt like the babies do, and looks at him to see if it's alright. He seems surprised but not bothered. He places his hand on her back and runs his fingers slowly over it. “It’s alright. Just try it, yeah?” She eyes Sam for a second longer but his focus is more on Tony now, so she uses the time she has to look around. Steve, Clint, Nat, and Wanda are also concentrated on Tony, though she sees Steve glance at her now and then. A soft smile grazes his face each time their eyes meet and Y/N knows that he itches to have her lying on his chest. He’s a sucker for a good cuddle. Only Bruce and Bucky watch her closely. Bruce seems a little on edge but the good kind. Like he really, really wants to touch her. She makes a mental note to seek him out later on when she’s not on the edge of falling asleep. Bucky looks… a little startled. No, more unbelieving, like he can’t figure out why she’s on Sam’s chest and not his. Maybe he’s a little jealous. But the moment he catches her staring he smiles at her with a nod, making sure she knows it's okay. She makes a small chirping sound before a big yawn escapes her and she snuggles closer to Sam, tail wrapping more securely around his wrist. Her eyes start to droop while she listens to Tony’s rambling about finances and training schedules.

 * * *

 “Hey, are you coming back to me now? You were out for a while.” Y/N chirps lowly, still pretty sleepy and struggling to open her eyes. She notices though that she’s no longer clutching Sam’s shirt but lies nestled in the crook of his arm. “I managed to get you down when we were halfway through the meeting. It looked kinda uncomfortable and Barnes was glaring at me the whole time.”

“I wasn’t glaring.” The deep rumble of a voice behind her lets her look around. She twists a little struggling to get a better look. Bucky’s sitting on another couch, book in hand but his eyes are focused on her. She makes another chirping sound, climbing out of Sam’s arms to run up to her brunette favorite person. “Sure Barnes. You looked like you would stab him any second.” Natasha wanders in a bowl in hand. Y/N looks at her briefly then back at Bucky and notices that Steve’s sitting next to him, head on the brunette’s shoulder and eyes closed. Though, what’s more, interesting is the little stuffed and colorful bear that he has in his hands. It was the first one that he tried to stitch on his own and even if it looks uneven with one arm longer than the other and the eyes not quite on the same height. The head is hanging a little sideways too and one leg is turning in the wrong direction. But the little stuffed creature is all hers since she loves to cuddle it while changed into smaller animals. It reminds her of him when he’s gone and they both lovely named it Cappy. A mix of Cap and crappy. Bucky sees her gaze and follows them, snorting. He lifts his shoulder lightly to rouse Steve while Y/N scrambles forward, over Bucky’s lap and right into Steve’s to free the stuffed friend of his hands. “Wha-? Y/N?” Steve wakes, rubs his eyes before he notices the little animal on his lap. She chirps and clutches the teddy to her chest while rushing up to sit on Steve’s shoulder. He laughs a little and quickly rubs her teil the moment she settled. “Y/N…” Bucky whines, sending his own puppy eyes to her. “No cuddles for me?” Steve rolls his eyes and Y/N would do the same, even giggle but she can’t. Her stomach grumbles loudly. She can smell fruits. She looks around and her eyes stop on the bowl Nat has on her lap.

Y/N swears she can see some banana slices just over the top. She looks between Nat and Bucky, who’s still pouting but her hunger wins out. She jumps from Steve’s shoulder, bear still clutched to her, over to the couch where Nat has settled. There she climbs all over Nat’s lap. “Hey, you. Hungry?” Y/N nods and climbs on Nat’s shoulder and lets Nat hand her a banana slice. Y/N quickly starts devouring it, grabbing into the bowl herself for the next one. “Hey.” Nat laughs but lets her get the next few slices of bananas and strawberries. Y/N chirps around the food, now and then jumping around to switch positions when Nat angles the bowl differently. A few times she even throws a raspberry on the coffee table and Y/N has to jump around to get it, making the four people laugh. Though, she notices that Bucky’s not as happy as he tries to look. Dread and guilt settle in her little chest. He still seems a little jealous, now of Nat too, maybe even of Steve, and Y/N knows that he sometimes starts to doubt himself when others can help her but he can’t. So, she makes a split decision. She runs up to Nat for the last time and steals two more Bananas only to waddle over the cushions to where Bucky sits. One of the slices finds its way into her mouth and while she munches on that she climbs up on Bucky until she’s snug on his chest, Cappy trapped between their chests. Bucky seems surprised but the smile on his lips is genuine and actually reaches his eyes. He lifts his hand and one of his finders stokes over her nose and along the white markings on her face. “Hey, monkey.” Instead of answering in any form, she holds out her hand with the slightly squished banana as compensation. “What’s with your banana?” She holds it up higher, poking it against his mouth. “For me?” She nods, which probably looks strange for a monkey to do. Bucky chuckles and Y/N holds her hand up higher once more until Bucky actually opens his mouth for her to drop the slice. “Thank you.” He leans down and kisses her little head. While he chews on it, Y/N jumps a little with cute little squeaks in a happy dance before climbing his shoulder and holding on tight to his hair, nuzzling it a little. Even if Bucky sometimes can’t help her fall asleep, he is one of her favorite persons after all. At some point, Y/N yawns again. Steve has gone back to napping a while ago and Bucky is drawn back into the fictional world of his book. Though, he notices that her head drops forward now and then. “Hey, monkey. Come down here, yeah?” He holds out his hand, slowly taking her small one, and guides her down onto his lap. Before she settles herself, he quickly grabs one of the smaller pillows to lies it on his thighs and lets her climb it. “Go to sleep. Stevie and I are here.” She doesn’t nod but she rolls herself into a ball, curled around the bear. Her eyes are closed and for a second, she fears the pictures will return instantly but she’s relieved as that’s not the case. She concentrates on Bucky’s warm, big hand on her back while drifting off.

* * *

 The man that’s holding her hand has a fierce grip on it. Y/N doesn’t really understand what’s happening. She hasn’t got an answer after she asked for her parents, the man just had rushed down the street without a word. Soon he had pushed her into a car and after that, she must have fallen asleep. Now they walk through unknown halls with people she has never seen. The man's still silent, not saying anything. At first, she had thought he was a friend of her mum but now she isn’t as sure anymore. She’s afraid and has cried but kept silent. The other people that they go past don’t even look at her and if they do, they don’t show any sign that she would describe as pity or empathy. Suddenly the man stops walking. She looks up at him and then to the door. It’s big and looks heavy, not like the door to her room at home. “Where are we going?” She looks back at the man but he ignores her, instead he pushes the door open and leads her inside only to lift her up and set he into a chair. There are more people around now. Men and Women in white coats, a man in a suit and a woman in a dress. It looks like the one her mum wears when she meets with her dad at work. The people in the room run around her not even noticing her and the man that was with her the whole time now steps back and leaves the room. The fear she has felt spiraled a little and she curls herself together. She doesn’t know where she is, she doesn’t know anyone and she doesn’t have her little dolphin plushie to keep her company. The man and the woman that has been standing at the wall now walk up to her. They look nice enough, the woman even smiles a little at her. “How’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.” She speaks silently, wiping some tears away from her face. “And how old are you?”

“S-seven. Where am I? Where’s my mommy?”

“What animals can you shift to?” Y/N blinks once, then twice. Not only has the woman not answered her but she knows of her ability. Y/N’s mum and dad always told her to not go around and tell someone and she never did. “I want my mommy.” She starts crying again. This woman scares her. Then suddenly pain blossoms on her cheek. “I asked you a question!” her tone is sharp and she doesn’t look as friendly anymore. Y/N’s cheek throbs with pain and she clutches it while scooting as far back in her chair as she can. She’s too afraid to answer and only shakes her head. She flinches as the woman lifts her hand again, probably ready to slap her again but this time the man holds her back. “Darling, let her be. We will find out in a few days. Let us just proceed so she knows what’s up.” He smiles at the woman but Y/N can see that this smile is evil. It reminds her of one of her aunts’ friends when she promises Y/N to get sweet and then hands her these disgusting lollipops made of vegetables. Y/N watches as the woman nods and steps back. The man comes forward, smiling at her but then grabs her wrist and puts them on the armrests of the chair, and binds them to them. “W-where are you doing? Where’s my daddy?”

“Oh, did no one told you?” The man looks with pity at her while he now sets something on her head and attaches some strings to it. Then he attaches something to her chest after opening her pajama top. “Your mommy and your daddy don’t love you anymore. They don’t like your ability and want you gone.”

“Noo… They love me.” She cries again. Can it be true? Her mum always tells her how much she loves her, that she is her little miracle. And her daddy always tells her she’s his little princess. “Oh, you sure? Why are you here then?” he waves an arm around to show her again that she’s all alone under all these strange people. “Your parents want us to find out why you are as you are and to make it stop so you can come back and they can be a family again. Without a freak baby girl.” Big sobs wrack her body but she can’t do anything against it. And she can’t say anything. Only a split second later the man steps back with yet another gin and then. There’s only pain.

 * * *

She opens her eyes, confused about where she is. It’s bright outside, so it’s not night. A warm hand lies on her back and she looks around to find the interior of the common room. Nat’s sitting on the couch Y/N remembers her being on and on closer inspection, she sees that she’s still sitting on Bucky’s lap. The man is sleeping peacefully with his head bedded on Steve’s. Her eyes dart around as the feeling of fear grows in her. She knows that it only was a dream, a memory that’s way back into her childhood, that nothing the man had told her was true. But on the other side, she has lived with that lie for four years of her kidnapping and her mom… She hasn’t taken it well that her only child was taken right out of their home while she was sleeping only two doors next to her. She had committed suicide two months before they finally had found her. Her dad then had moved away with Y/N, out of their old little town into the big city to try and start anew. Even through all the therapies, he got her she still suffers the effects of the four years. And right now, she desperately needs comfort. She hasn’t noticed that she’s shivering until she gets taken off from the pillow and pressed to a broad chest. The smell alone is enough for her to know that it's Steve who picked her up. “Hey, doll. Are you alright? Another nightmare?” She doesn’t nod, instead, she quickly hides her face in his shirt and holds on tight, her tail wrapping tightly around Steve’s wrist. “Hey, hey. It’s alright. Your perfectly safe here.” Y/N only tightens her grip but looks up at him. He must see something in her eyes because he sits up straight, startling Bucky awake. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Why?” Bucky yawns but as soon as Steve stands up and Bucky sees Y/N in his arms he seems to understand. He disposes of the pillow but grabs the bear that has fallen to the ground. “Here, doll. Cappy might help a bit, yeah?” as fast as she can She takes the toy with a sad chirping and hides back in Steve’s chest. The whole way to their shared room she can’t stop the shivers or the picture of the two people that started her suffering. It’s as if the images burned themselves into her mind. No matter how much energy she pushes into it, she can’t get rid of them. She loses track of time quickly swirling yet another time in the pain that had come over her, in the torture she had endured, and in the pictures of other suffering children she had seen in that few years. Some of them she has never seen again. Today she knows they hadn’t made it through these ‘tests’. “Y/N!” Her head snaps up quickly. Steve looks down at her with a pained expression. She notices now that they are already in Steve’s room, sitting on his bed. “I’ve called you a few times now. How about we change, yeah? Cuddling is easier that way. Buck’s getting the laptop and beamer ready so we can watch a movie.” She’s not really able to answer but clings to Steve with all that’s left. Then she nods end lets go. While she shifts, she hears herself let out a sob. It sounds strange, some kind of screeching like an animal but equal like a human sob. The shaking intensifies but Steve comforts her, pressing her naked body against his. He cradles her head to his chest, even leaning back on the bed while she shifts so that she’s comfortingly leaning against him. Even after the shift, she lies against him sobbing. She hears Bucky come close and soon gets covered by a light blanket while he wraps his arms around her. “Hey, baby.” Bucky presses a kiss against her head. “How about we coot a little to let Steve lie against the headboard, hm?” Y/N notices Bucky’s hands gripping her. He is careful but Y/N is transported back into her dream with more tortures she had to endure. The screams broke free without her noticing. The hands pull her and the blood rushes in her ears. She hears screaming that’s faint and not coming from her, she feels more hands gripping on her, wetness in her face. She starts kicking and punching, everything to get the hands away from her, to not let herself be dragged to the room with the whips and collars. And then, suddenly… There’s calm.

There are warm lips on her forehead, arms circling around her waist and a broad chest against her back. She hears murmuring in her ears. Soft whispering voices paired with soft touches. All around her is warmth and the cold that has shaken her body is completely gone. The fear in her body slowly ebbs away but she still doesn’t dare to open her eyes. “Shh, doll. I’m sorry but you’re safe, you’re safe.” The voice sounds thick with emotions. “Y/N?” Another pair of hands join her body, one hand slowly stroking over her arm, while the other cups her cheek, thumb rubbing tears away. “Can you look at me?” Involuntary, she shakes her head. She’s not ready to open her eyes. What if she’s dreaming? What if the people she wants to see aren’t here? What if… What if she’s still there? 

“Hey, hey. Darling, come on.” Lips press again on her head; hands rub her skin in comfort. Slowly she peels her eyes open, just for a second. She sees Steve’s concerned face and hears a faint sniffle, right behind her ear. Dread fills her stomach. She knows these kinds of sniffles. Turning lightly, she finds Bucky’s face. It’s white and pale with streaks of teas on the skin. “B-Buck...?” She whispers, silently but he hears her. He sends her a watery smile and tightens his arms. “I’m okay, doll. I’m sorry I startled you. I’m sorry.” Y/N’s head empties from her worry and guilt, from her fear and dreams. All senses are focused on Bucky, on comfiting the man that helped her through so much. She sits up a little but his arms press her against him again. She struggles a little against him until he finally losses his grip. In a blink of an eyelash, she turns herself and flings her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him and taking him down with her. She can hear his head bump against the headboard but she ignores it in favor of pressing her lips against his. He makes a small confused sound but then turns it instantly into a moan, his arms tightening. Behind them is a chuckle. Y/N quickly turns around and grabs the wrist that’s the closest to her, pulling it in. “Woooh… Y/N.” Steve laughs almost tripping over and landing on her and Bucky but he catches himself in the last moment, though, it's to no use. Bucky pulls him down on top of him connecting their lips in a loving kiss. Y/N watches for a second before she drapes her free arm around Steve’s neck as well, connecting her forehead to the sides of them. “Thank you. I love you two.”

“We love you, too.” And all of a sudden, she has two pairs of lips against her forehead, two pairs of loving arms around her, and two favorite people that comfort her. Two people, she loves the most.

[grey-water-colors]

After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 2

I went ahead and wrote the second chapter, I was so excited. I did a lot of research on PTSD and the triggers. I may not have a full grasp on it, but I hope I at least got some of it right. I feel kinda iffy on writing the characters, but I did my best to stay true to who they are. I hope you like this chapter!

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, violence, yelling. Talks about triggers and PTSD. Mentions of death and killing. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 2,492

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve, I don’t understand why you’re dragging me out here to this museum.”

“They told me that they made a new addition to the Captain America exhibit and I didn’t want to go alone.”

Bucky clenched his vibranium hand and continued to follow Steve. “Did they at least tell you what it’s about?”

Steve sighed, “No, they didn’t. I wish they had though, I hate going into these things blind. Who knows what they’ve dug up.

“Steve, did you find it?”

“Uh, yeah Buck. I don’t think you want to see it though. It’s something they had no business digging in”

“What is it Steve. And don’t even think of lying to me, I know you too well.”

Steve sighed and led Bucky to the new exhibit. A memorial just like Bucky’s, but it was dedicated to Y/N L/N.

Bucky scoffed but read it out loud anyways. “Y/N L/N was a childhood friend of both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Y/N met the two in 1923 and they were close ever since. In 1941 record says that she became engaged to Sargent Barnes, but never married. Y/N was drafted as an Army Nurse but died in Germany in 1944.” A picture of her before the war and in a case were her dog tags, which was weird. If she hadn’t been found, how were her tags here.

Bucky trailed off, the rest just going on about what kind of person she was. They stood in silence for a while, both staring at her picture. Steve finally broke the silence, “How much of her do you remember?”

Bucky looked away and tried to remember the girl in front of him. Flashes of smiles, tears, and laughter floated through his head, but he could only focus on one memory.

“I don’t remember her before the war.” Steve’s head moved to look at Bucky so fast that his neck cracked.

“What do you mean before the war Buck.”

He looked at Steve and backed up until he could collapse on a bench. A deep breath then, “I remember seeing her when I was the Winter Soldier. I vaguely remember a mission, maybe a couple, and then an order. I couldn’t help myself. All I could do was watch as I choked her to death, them dragging her away after declaring her dead.”

He shook his head as if he could erase the memory, make it disappear to never see again.

“If you killed her-“ Steve paused, “If you went on missions with her then she didn’t die in 1944. She was captured by Hydra. Then there could be a possibility that she, well that she could still be alive. Could it be possible that it was staged? Buck is there any chance at all that she could still be alive?”

Bucky shook his head again and looked at his hands. “I felt it Steve, I felt her neck crush. There’s no way she survived that.”

He took a deep sigh and felt the world shift, his heart plummeted to the ground as he realized the full gravity of what happened. “Oh god. Oh god, I killed her. I killed my fiancé, Steve.”

Steve just sat down next to Bucky, still in shock. She had been a good friend to Steve. They had come from similar backgrounds, hell they had grown up together, she understood him in a way that Bucky never could have at the time. She had been there when needed and even when she wasn’t. A ray of sunshine in a dreary New York. He had taken a picture of them after Bucky had proposed. They were all so happy.

It shook Steve to his core that Hydra had gotten their hands on her. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that she had gone through, might still be going through much like his best friend. Was she as much of a shell as Bucky?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt good to walk into her apartment without having to break in. She had hassled every office and bank that had her name in its databases to get her back as a registered live, human being. And to get electricity and water going to her place.

She had already been living in the apartment, but now she could cook, light a fire, and make noise. With her accounts opened again, she bought a couple pairs of clothes to wear while she cleaned the place.

Starting with the kitchen she cleaned every surface, threw away all the canned food that had been left behind.

By the time she had finished cleaning, she was physically exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the master bedroom. She had managed to turn off her emotions for the day. No tears had been spilled because there had been work to get done. But her new superpower didn’t work now that she had nothing to do. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room desperately trying to stuff her emotions back into the box they had been in, but they had seen their chance and taken it.

Tears filled her eyes and she took her first real look around the place she had once called home. It was like she had never left at all. A place for everything and everything in its place. She turned to face the worn leather wingback. The thick blanket draped over the back just like it always had. She shuffled over to the chair and sat down in it. The leather was cold but familiar with the smell of her life before the war. Ghosts of days past floated through the air around her. She curled up in the chair, thick blanket pulled over her.

Things had been so easy then, and it would be so easy now to just fall back into that time when everything was perfect. Except the person that had helped make it perfect wasn’t here. A tear fell from her cheek onto the leather, and she quickly brushed it off not wanting to ruin the chair.

As she was wallowing in self-pity, a fight broke out on the street below her window, voices piercing the air and pulling her back to a place she never wanted to go again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Project Cecilia had become a nightmare. A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. The project was a testing ground of trial and error. They tested the trial serums, triggers, enforcers, and everything else to make sure that they wouldn’t damage whoever took the role of Winter Soldier. The project was named after the scientist who did most of the testing.

The serums were bad, it felt like lighting her blood on fire, like hell itself was inside her. But trigger testing was far worse. For every test or experiment, a trigger experiment came after. Is sound more effective than smell? Are words better than sounds? What kind of words work better than others?

Trial and error for over 30 different types of triggers until they settled on a list of words that would mean something to the Winter Soldier. Her mind was blocked off so carefully that she couldn’t remember anything before the last trigger.

Here she was, testing how much electricity a super soldier could take before things started to shut down. And then the doctor walked in. Constantine Cecilia was the man who haunted her dreams. She couldn’t ever quite remember who he was, but somehow she knew that when he arrived, things would be bad.

“How is our little rabbit doing today? I believe a congratulations are in order, you finished testing.”

He put on plastic gloves and his assistant walked up to them both. “She’s due for sound this time.”

The doctor smiled. “Good good.”

Things were going well; the set-up went smoothly. She was ready to receive the trigger, the thing her mind would take as a trauma to seal away all of the bad.

But then a fight broke out, and then people were yelling, screaming at each other. The trigger was set.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shuri had done her best at getting rid of the physical effect of the triggers, and by best, she was completely successful. Unfortunately, there was still an emotional effect that came with the triggers. Certain smells, sounds, colors, and even sometimes emotions would send her spiraling into a memory. Most were memories that terrified her, they brought her back to Hydra and their torture. Some were good, like remembering life before the war.

They happened less at home, surrounded by memories of a past that never hurt. The outside world was what tortured her. Going outside was like sentencing herself to relive the worst of her life.

And she remembered it all. Hydra had done such a good job of playing Tetris with her brain that every time that Shuri released a trigger, she remembered everything. Y/N bet that Dr. Cecilia was laughing in his grave at her tragedy.

Y/N fell asleep under the thick blanket on the chair of the man she had loved more than anything else in the whole world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N decided to visit the Veterans Center, hoping that they magically had the cure for what Shuri called PTSD. She walked inside and was met with the smell of burnt coffee and laughter down the hall. She followed the noise until she came to what looked like a break room, or a very poor excuse for a kitchen.

A tall man took notice of her and he excused himself to go talk to her.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I, uhh, came here to talk to someone, hopefully.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling so small. She was a veteran after all. She just fought in a different war.

“Are you a vet?”

“Yes?”

He smiled, “Well then welcome. My name is Sam Wilson. I help run this place. Mostly I work with the people though. Business isn’t really my style.”

Y/N gave a weak smile.

Sam spoke up again, much to her relief. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk so we aren’t standing in a door way.”

She merely nodded and followed Sam to a room with foldable chairs and a couple beat up sofas.

After they had sat down, and awkward silence filled the air. Sam cleared his throat, “So what’s your name?”

Y/N took a deep breath and “My name is Y/N”

Sam nodded. “What war did you serve in Y/N?”

She froze, of course she could just answer him. She heard there was a whole museum dedicated to the two oldest people on the planet, so why was it so hard?

“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m not going to force you into anything here. It’s a safe place.” The genuinely caring smile on his face helped her relax.

“I fought in World War II.”

Sam looked startled for a second. “Excuse me?”

“I was a nurse with the Red Cross in World War II.”

She watched as Sam’s shoulders dropped. Y/N prepared to fight, to tell him that it was true, without going through the horrors that she had witnessed. She prepared to give him the riot act like she had for every person who hadn’t believed her at the bank and social security office.

Instead, he started laughing. “Man, I wonder how many more of you there are out there,” Sam said between breaths.

The look of confusion on her face must have put more puzzle pieces together for him at how lost she really was.

“You… You actually believe me?”

“Yeah I do! I work with the other two.”

She suddenly felt cold, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. While Shuri had told her about James, or Bucky, and about Steve and how they both lived in New York in the Avengers Compound, it had never occurred to her that they were so close. So close, yet so far away. Her heart dropped.

“How exactly do you know them? You said you worked with them, so you must be an Avenger I suppose.”

“How much do you know about this time and place?”

She felt, for the first time since she left Wakanda, that someone understood. Only a fraction maybe, but an understanding all the same. Sam somehow knew that she didn’t know much about the present she found herself in. She didn’t really care to learn either though, the world was scary, and she had to face it alone for the first time in her life.

“Not much. I’ve only been off ice for about 9 and a half months now. Most of that was spent in Wakanda, while Shuri worked on getting rid of my triggers.” The more she talked the more Sam’s face filled with understanding and horror and that scared her.

“You were captured by Hydra weren’t you?”

All she could do was nod, her head held low.

“I won’t ask about that. I know better than that. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve been through.

“Well, I’m the Falcon, I fly and I see things really well with my goggles. Other than that I’m just a human, no serum or anything.”

It was like all she could do was nod her head, she had been robbed of words.

“Would it be ok if I went home?”

“Of course! Nothing is keeping you here. I’m glad we met, and you’re more than welcome to come by anytime at all. We do close at 9 pm, but here’s my phone number if you need anything after those hours.”

More nodding. Y/N rushed home.

The first thing she did was climb into the chair, drape the blanket over her, and tell a ghost of what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sam are you ok? You seem distracted today”

“Yeah. Yeah man I’m good.” Sam looked at Steve for a minute. “Say have you ever met someone named Y/N L/N? She came into the VA today and when I asked what war she fought in she said WWII. She was captured by Hydra. I didn’t press her on it, she got that same look that Bucky does when it gets brought up.”

Steve froze. “What was her name?”

“Y/N L/N, do you know her?”

“Are you sure about what you told me?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

“What did she look like?”

“She had H/L hair and E/C eyes. She was about yay-tall” Sam held up a hand to about her height. “Again, do you know her?”

“I promise I’ll tell you later, but I gotta go.”

Steve took off running through the compound until he got to Bucky’s door. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the museum, but this was important. He pounded on the door, “Buck! Bucky! Open the door!”

A quiet mumbled “Go away Steve” came as a response.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “She’s alive. Sam met her today.”

Silence.

Then the door opened. “Where?”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Monsters  -  Six

Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader 

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Language,

Word Count: 2.7K

A/n: Hehehehehehehehehehehe y’all... read this and enjoy how calm it is because this won’t last for long.....

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!

~*~

"So Buck! You seem to be in higher spirits!" Bucky nods at his blond friend, tossing his arm over the back of the couch. Steve sits across from him in the common room, and Natasha sits on the couch beside him, snuggled against his side.

"You've been a lot happier and a lot more... active in our social outings. I like that. I think it's great. Whatever you're doing, whatever therapy you've started is working wonders for you," Nat says with a small smile. Bucky kisses the top of her head and nods.

"Yeah. I've been... him less and less. I'm slowly getting control of my mind back, and with that, the monster is getting back under my control. I think."

~*~

His hips slam brutally into your ass, leaving bruises that will be a bitch to sit on.

His metal hand is holding onto your hip while his flesh hand is tangled in your hair, yanking it back to force you to arch your back more.

"Oh fuck! Harder! Please, please! Harder!" A growl rumbles in his chest and he pulls your head back further. Your neck aches at this angle but the pain is so perfect, it sends sparks down to your core.

He looks down at you, at the way your lips are parted in pleasure and the furrow of your brows, the way your eyes are squeezed shut.

You look perfect. Absolutely picture perfect as he rams into you harder and harder.

"You want me to fuck you harder? Yeah? Want me to show you who you belong to?" You nod then whimper as he pulls your hair again. He spits down onto your face and you flinch in surprise as it lands across the bridge of your nose and on your cheek.

He stops thrusting, pulls out of you, then flips you onto your back. You stare up at him through hooded eyes and he grins, loving the fact that you're taking him so well.

He squeezes your cheeks, forcing your lips to purse until they pop open. He then leans down and collects saliva in his mouth. His eyes stay trained on yours as he lets gravity pulls the liquid from his mouth into yours. It's warm and tastes like him, and you can't help but lick your lips and moan at the act and the taste.

"So good for me. Taking everything I give you." You nod, an innocent look in your eyes that has Bucky's balls throbbing.

He watches you for a moment longer, the tip of his cock resting at your entrance, and you can't help but squirm, wanting him to fuck you hard and show you who you belong to.

He leans down and licks a stripe up your neck, the salty sweat adding to his arousal as he gets up to your face. He licks your cheek then pulls away and spits on you again. In the same moment, he buries himself inside of you, cock hitting every sensitive spot you have.

The force of his thrust leaves you breathless for a moment, and he uses that moment to bring your legs over his shoulders and your hands above your head, pinning them there in his metal fist.

He starts pumping into you, hard and fast and deliciously rough, each thrust abusing your cervix and making you see stars.

"Yes... fuck, yes..." Drool drips down the corner of your mouth as he fucks you dumb, coherent thoughts leaving your brain until all that you can think about is him. His cock, his hands, his smell, even his spit. You want him to mark you up, you want to be put on display and have everyone know that you belong to him.

"You love getting used by me, huh?" He asks, panting hard as his hips speed up.

"You love it when I fuck your tiny little pussy like it's a fucking toy. You love it when I fucking destroy your little cunt." You nod desperately, eyes glazed over as the coil in your belly tightens.

The squelching sound of him thrusting through your wet heat has fire climbing up your spine. It's erotic and absolutely sinful, and you can't get enough.

"I love it... when you fuck me... when you- oh fuck!" A particularly rough thrust has your back arching, head digging into the pillows as your core throbs.

"Take me.... use me... I'm yours." The words are hardly whispered, but Bucky hears them. And he has every intention of obeying.

He fucks you brutally, the position forcing you to take every painful thrust until he cums.

You can feel your own orgasm creeping up, the brush of his pelvis against your clit doing nothing to stop the feeling. It takes only a few more thrusts, and then you're cumming.

"Cum on my cock, baby! Fuckin' cum! Cause you're mine! You're all mine. You belong to me. And everyone's gonna know it."

The way your cunt clamps down, walls squeezing tightly against his cock at his words, has him moaning, his hips stuttering. God, he could live in your pussy.

He follows you into the orgasmic embrace, painting your walls with his cum, marking you up inside and out and wrecking you for any man that may follow.

You slowly come down from your high, chest heaving and body slick with sweat, and Bucky is no better. He drops your legs to his waist then rolls onto his side, keeping his cock warm inside of you.

You press your face into the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths of his comforting scent as the post-orgasmic haze slowly trails off, exhaustion taking its place.

When he finally catches his breath, you're already sound asleep, pussy fluttering every now and then on his cock.

He rocks his hips a little, just enough the hear the sloshing of the cum in your pussy, then settles in beside you, content to fall asleep.

~*~

You wake up sometime after midnight, Bucky's cock still lodged inside of you. The heat in your core frustrates you beyond belief, and you want nothing more than the soldier to come and fuck you good.

You grind against him, hips wiggling and rocking in an attempt the gain friction and put out the fire in your belly.

He groans lowly in your ear, arms wrapping tighter around your frame for a moment before relaxing. You furrow your brows and hump against him, the feeling of his cock moving against your walls only worsening the fire inside of you.

A metal hand flashes up, gripping your hip tightly, and you know then and there that you've awoken the soldier.

He whispers something in your ear in Russian, his voice low and husky and absolutely arousing.

You try to rock your hips, and he quickly gets the message. He lifts your leg higher on his hip and starts to thrust into you quickly. The constant pressure of the velvet tip of his cock against your tender g-spot is absolute heaven, and you never want to lose the feeling.

He fucks you hard and fast, metal arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against his body.

He leans down, lips slotting against yours in a kiss that's all dominance and force. He pants into your mouth, and you moan into his. The intimacy of it sends you spiralling and you find yourself gripping his shoulder and his back, nails digging in and creating red crescent moons in their wake. 

He's your rock, the only constant in your life, and you ground yourself to him. You tether yourself to him so tightly that nothing and no one will ever tear you from him.

A single tear falls from your eyes and you moan, the way he cares for you pushing you over the edge. Your body trembles, cunt fluttering and eyes rolling back as wave after wave of your orgasm crashes through your body.

He growls into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip as he chases his own release. He finishes inside of you, adding to the mess of white already covering your walls.

He doesn't pull out. Instead, he keeps his cock inside of you just like Bucky did and you can't help but think that the two of them are starting to act the same to you.

~*~

Bucky wakes up the next morning feeling well-rested and happy, his mind not clouded with nightmares or flashbacks to what he did to you.

He reaches out, looking for your warmth in the bed, but when he finds nothing he bolts upright. Now, logically he knows that you couldn't have escaped, but the fear is still lingering in his mind.

He jumps out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweats quickly, desperate to find you and make sure you're not doing anything he'll have to punish you for.

You've been so good lately. Listening, obeying, loving, fucking. He's beyond happy with you. He hopes to any and all God's available that you don't ruin that.

He pulls open the door to his bedroom but stops in his tracks, taking a deep breath in through his nose.

It smells like cooking. Like bacon.

He decides that he can spare a few minutes in his search for you and goes back into his room, wanting to brush his teeth and take a quick shower.

When he's finished he heads down the stairs, less frantic than before, and finds himself slightly confused when he sees you.

You're wearing one of his shirts as you scurry around the kitchen, getting two plates of food ready.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you tease, glancing over at him with a smile. He nods, watching as you set the table.

"Well don't just stand there. Go sit down. Breakfast will be ready in a minute. I got you some coffee too." He sits down and takes a hesitant sip of his coffee. It tastes normal.

"Here you go. I uh... you always make breakfast but today you looked so peaceful, I thought I could do it. I'm no chef, but even I know how to make pancakes. So I figured maybe we could have breakfast together." You scramble to explain yourself as you set a heaping plate of food down in front of him. Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, sausages, and a bowl of fruit as well.

It looks delicious.

You turn to grab something but he grabs your arm, stopping you. You look at him shyly, worried he'll get mad. He only recently took the locks off of the cabinets and drawers, and you hope you're not overstepping. He pulls your arm again and you stumble closer, gasping when he surges upwards and captures your lips in a kiss.

You're surprised but you kiss him back, butterflies swarming your belly when he pulls away and looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

You hurry to finish setting the table, sitting across from him with your own plate of food.

Breakfast is eaten in comfortable silence, and when you're both finished Bucky waves you over. You sit on his lap, straddling his thick thighs, and look at him shyly. He rubs your back gently and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Thank you for breakfast," he whispers. You nod, smiling at him. He peppers kisses across your face and down your neck, reaching your clavicle when his phone rings. He groans and you sigh, climbing off of his lap so he can answer the call.

"Hello?" His eyes are on you. Until whoever is on the other line starts talking.

"Uh no, no I didn't forget. I was just eating breakfast... Yeah... Yes... I'll be there in an hour... Bye." He hangs up the phone with a hearty sigh and tosses it onto the table, shaking his head.

"Mission briefing," he explains, standing up and stretching. You nod, walking to him and sneaking your hands up his shirt to rest on his warm chest.

"And you're gonna be going out right after, yeah?" He nods, leaning down to trail his nose over your pulse point.

"I should be back tomorrow, maybe the day after." You nod, sighing heavily when he steps away from you.

"You go get ready. I'll clean up in here," you say, watching as he turns and walks to the stairs. He shoots a glance over at you, a strange look in his eyes, then goes upstairs to get ready.

You're washing the dishes, trying not to think about the fact that he's going to be leaving you when his phone dings.

You ignore it. But then it does it again. And again. And a fourth time. Eventually, the noise is too annoying to ignore, so you march over to it to shut it off.

Your fingers freeze, hovering over the phone when you see the message.

It's from a woman. ‘Natasha’.

Your brain makes the connection that she must be Black Widow. As you're leaning down to read the message, another one appears. This one a photo.

You find yourself staring at her naked body, breasts on full display while two of her dainty fingers are pushed into her pink pussy.

With a deep breath, you turn away and resume your cleaning, wanting to distract yourself until you have time to think about this by yourself.

~*~

He's gone for three days. And in those three days, you do a lot of thinking until it clicks in your mind.

Of course she's texting him. He needs someone to tame the monster while he's at work. You can’t be there to help him when he’s away on missions. 

The solution you come up with does wonders to ease your stress, and you find yourself happily doing household chores, not worrying because you know that Bucky is loyal to you. He cares about you.

You're switching the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer when two hands grip your waist, squeezing rather tightly.

You gasp in shock, glancing over your shoulder as your heart races. A familiar pair of blue eyes stare back at you and you sigh, relaxing instantly in his hold. You can tell from the way the blue is slightly cloudy that this isn't Bucky, it's the soldier.

He tugs your shorts down your legs, panties getting ripped off next, and you can already feel yourself getting wet. You lift your leg up and rest your knee on the washing machine, opening yourself up to give him easier access.

He sheathes himself inside of you in one gentle thrust, and you sigh, having missed feeling him inside of you. His thrusts are smooth, almost as if he's reacquainting himself with you, each thrust hitting you deeper than the last.

You lean down onto your forearms, taking deep breaths as each thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge.

He whispers soft words in Russian, his hands gently stroking the skin exposed to him.

His thrusts gradually get faster, his mind focusing more on his release now that he's back inside of you. His metal hand snakes around your waist, fingers toying with your clit, pinching and rubbing. It brings you over the edge quickly and you shiver beneath him, cunt clenching and twitching around him.

His hips still, warmth spilling inside of you. You take a deep breath, whining softly when he pulls out of you. He rests his hands on your hips, his forehead coming to lean against the back of your neck.

He breathes heavily, his chest heaving as Bucky takes control of his body.

He nuzzles against the back of your neck, peppering gentle kisses across your skin. "Hi," he whispers. You smile to yourself. "Hi."

He pulls away slightly then looks around, seemingly taking in his surroundings.

"You're doing the laundry?" You nod, turning around in his arms and looking up at him. You can feel his cum dripping down your thigh and you can't help but shiver.

He wraps his arms around you and you smile up at him, rubbing your hands over his chest and shoulders.

"Of course. You already do so much for me. You provide for me, keep me safe, put a roof over my head. This is the least I can do." He nods, mulling over your words as you press kisses to his jaw. He hugs you tighter and nudges you with his nose until you look up at him. When you finally do, he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a gentle and intimate kiss.

[mymoonagedaydream]

(bucky reader) the reader and bucky have been dating for quiet some while now and bucky gets this awful nightmare and he starts choking the reader while sleeping, you finally get him off of you and run out of the room to knock into steve. the bruises already forming around your neck, you just drop to the ground and start crying and catching ur breath. steve holds you and everyone starts coming down the halls, steve hands you off to tony to deal with bucky and however you would like to end that

Night Terror

Summary: You thought Bucky’s nightmares were finally under control

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Language, violence

Author’s Note: Poor ol’ Bucky, my man just can’t catch a break

---

‘Hey babe, what’s a Robocop?’

You gave Bucky a very puzzled look as he strolled through the door in his t-shirt and sweats, carrying the mug of tea you’d asked him to fetch for you.  

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘Tony just called me it. Is that a thing now? Robot cops?’

You couldn’t help laughing a little, even though you resented how often Tony casually threw mind-control jibes at Bucky from his seemingly endless list.

‘It doesn’t matter, he’s just being an asshole again.’

As he passed you the mug, you noticed straight away that it was only half-full, and you could only assume that the rest of the tea was spotted up the hallway carpet. You’d told him before not to carry drinks with his left hand, he was so easily distracted and didn’t have the sensation in that arm to feel them spilling everywhere.

You didn’t say anything though, just gave him a warm smile as he climbed into bed next to you.  

It was still early, so the two of you relaxed for a little while, curled up watching your shows. This was the part of your evenings together that you really looked forward to, but the bit that came afterwards was always a little jarring.

He had a careful routine that he had to carry out to the letter before turning the lights off, without which he couldn’t get so much as a few minutes of sleep. 

By this point, you’d memorized it too.

Bolt all the windows shut. Check the door is double-locked before and after using the bathroom. Make sure the handgun in the bedside drawer is fully loaded with the safety off. Take a double dose of sleeping pills and wash them down a full tumbler of scotch.

If it had been anyone else, you might’ve questioned whether it was necessary to do that last part every single evening. But not Bucky. Anything that helped him sleep through the night was completely fine with you.

And it did. 

Even the nightmares had waned since he’d perfected his routine. When you first met, you couldn’t even share a bed, he’d howl and thrash around like he was fighting for his life. Now he barely moved, sleeping best when he was completely cocooned around you with your back flush against his chest, like he was sheltering you from heavy gunfire. It gave him deep comfort knowing that, in this position, he could keep you safe even while he rested.  

This evening was no different than usual. 

He finished his routine, slipped carefully into bed behind you and dozed off, his warm breath on the back of your neck giving you the feeling of immense comfort and safety that helped you to do the same.

---

A sharp, throbbing pain in your arm pulled you out of deep sleep.

Still a little disoriented, you blindly fumbled at the source of the ache, finding something tight and firm. Taking a deep breath in and peeling your eyes open, you directed your hazy vision towards it.

It was Bucky’s hand. He was digging his fingers into your arm, his thumb deep in your muscle causing the bulk of the discomfort.

‘Buck?’ You muttered, trying your best to release his grip. ‘Buck, wake up.’

He didn’t so much as stir. Still half-asleep, you decided to try and crawl away to the other side of the bed, hoping to either wake him up in the process or muster enough energy to yank yourself out of his grip.

That was your big mistake.

As soon as you tried to shift yourself away from him, he wrenched your shoulder back towards the bed, flipping you onto your back and eliciting a shocked yelp from your lips. 

You were fully awake now but, before you could even try to figure out what was happening, both of his hands were sealed around your neck.

He was looming over you on his knees, elbows locked and shoulders squared. His face was completely flat, emotionless. His eyes were still closed. He was still asleep.

You quickly realised that if you didn’t start fighting back, he probably wouldn’t stop until he’d finished the job.

You started flailing your legs, whacking them against any part of Bucky they could find. You clawed at his hands but they were bolted in place. You grasped at handfuls of his hair, wrenching it as hard as you could, just hoping that’d be enough to wake him up. Nothing.

Just as darkness started creeping into the corners of your vision, you managed to manoeuvre your foot underneath him and wedge it against his throat, mustering all your remaining energy to give one powerful kick.

He fell backwards, jolting awake.

You rolled yourself off the bed and thudded onto the floor, violently coughing whilst trying to gulp in as many raspy breaths as you could. 

Without even thinking, you clambered up onto your feet and sprinted towards the door, scrambling around with the locks until it would open.

You fell into the hallway, your shoulder whacking hard against Steve’s door opposite. Bucky’s hoarse voice followed you out but, before you even begin to decipher what he was saying, Steve was standing in the doorway in front of you.

As soon as you saw his face you broke down in hysterics, your throat producing a horrific cacophony of scratchy breaths and guttural sobs. He took you in his arms, asking you what the hell had happened, demanding to know who was responsible.

He stopped when he saw Bucky stumble into the doorway of your room, wide-eyed and shaking.

All the other doors in the hallway flung open one after another, your thunderous bawling had seemingly woken up everyone within a mile of the compound. Tony bolted towards you and Steve, carefully lifting your chin up when he reached you, examining the pattern of bruising already mottling your neck.

‘What the hell happened?!’

You tried to respond but all you could produce was a series of scraping gasps, the sound of which sent you straight back into your spiral of distress.

Steve passed you over to Tony, asking him to take you down to the infirmary while he dealt with this.

As you were being led down the hallway, you glanced over your shoulder to see Steve storm into your room, yank Bucky back inside and slam the door behind him.

---

‘I told you he wasn’t good for you, y/n.’

You opened your mouth to retort, but Tony quickly raised his finger up, holding it an inch away from your lips.

‘Ah. No talking, rest your throat.’

You just shook your head, frustrated that you couldn’t come to Bucky’s defence.

You knew he’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you.

It’d been one of the most intensely terrifying nights of your life, but now you’d had some time to calm down and reflect on what’d happened, all you wanted to do was find him and reassure him that you were alright.

‘Y’know one of these days, he’s gonna-’

He cut himself off when he noticed Bucky uneasily shuffling into the room, looking more desolate than you’d ever seen him, barely even able to look you in the eyes. You felt your heart drop. His expression alone told you how savagely he was beating himself up about this.

‘You come to finish her off?’

Tony’s spiteful jeer immediately made an intense anger bubble up in your chest. You shot him a murderous glare, prompting him to put his hands up in surrender and back out of the room.

‘Squeak if you need me.’

Bucky slowly approached, stopping just a few inches in front of you, his eyes welling up as they scanned over your bruising. He brought his hand up to stroke his fingertips gently across your neck, quickly retracting when you involuntarily winced.

Before he could take a step back, you reached out to grab him by the waist, holding him in place and trying your best to give him the most reassuring look you could manage.

He lowered his head, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

‘I’m so sorry.’

You cupped his face in your hands, stroking your thumbs across his cheeks before planting a lingering kiss just below his hairline.

‘It’s not your fault.’

Your voice was dry and scratchy, making him squeeze his eyes shut and clench his jaw, intense self-loathing in his chest rising again.

You could spot Bucky’s warning signs a mile off. 

As soon as he began to tense up, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into you, holding him tight to your chest until you felt some of the agitation melt away.

He buried his face in your shoulder and ran his hands up and down your back, just savouring the feeling of holding you close before having to say out loud what both of you knew was coming. 

‘I think we should sleep separately for a while.’

You pulled away slightly, giving him a weak smile and nod, doing all you could to hold back your tears for his sake. He felt shitty enough about what'd happened seeing you upset again.  

‘I’ll figure this out, I promise.’

---