#nd he is crying n all vulnerable n he asks himself 'damn what have i done to deserve this'

[rinwhore]

hello babes if u know any or wrote Shion fics plz mention me love you so much u and ur fave<3

[redgillan]

I’ve got you under my Skin - 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader ♀️

Summary: Modern!AU  We’ve been sleeping together on and off for almost a year and I know it’s angry hate sex but I got you a little gift because it reminded me of you.

Word Count:1,892

Warnings: Everyone’s c r y i n g

A/N: The gift has finally arrived! I lured you with the sex but now you’re stuck with the feels lol Anyway I hope you enjoy this part. Please consider leaving feedback if you like this!

It was Friday night and Natasha had invited some of her friends and colleagues over for dinner. The party in itself was boring. 

At work, Natasha had a reputation for being mysterious and she was adamant about keeping this bossy persona even though you all knew she was a huge dork. Her colleagues were terrified of her, and Bucky had to admit, it was pretty funny.

Bucky entered the kitchen and paused when he saw you. You were standing at the kitchen table with an assortment of washed vegetables in front of you. You were busy chopping vegetables into little sticks.

Things had been awkward between you after that night you spent babysitting Steve’s kid. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel your fingers on his cheek, your body pressed close to his.

You only had sex once after that night. It happened at his apartment after you had had a difficult day at work. He had taken you up against the door, no words had been exchanged at all. It had left him feeling dirty. Empty.

He wanted more than meaningless hate-sex, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted exactly. And, most importantly, he wasn’t sure what you wanted.

“Hey,” he greeted. “Nat put you to work?”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently I’m not allowed to tell her colleagues she adopted a stray dog because it would-” still holding the knife, you raised your fingers to make exaggerated air quotes “-blow her cover.”

“Yeah, she’s clearly enjoyin herself,” he said, stepping closer to you. “Y’know, m’pretty sure that’s some kind of kinky roleplayin shit. Sam’s been called her ‘ma’am’ all night.”

“Nutjobs,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Bucky said, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel his body heat. “His crazy matches her crazy. It’s romantic in a sort of twisted way.”

The shy smile you gave him made his heart stutter. He tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he took a knife and helped you cut the carrots into little sticks.

He didn’t say a word, but the silence between you was comfortable. It was probably the first time you felt comfortable in each other’s presence.

Once you were done, Bucky playfully bumped his hip against yours. It caught your attention so you put the knife on the table and turned to him.

“I have somethin for you,” he said with a nervous grin.

“For me?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise.

Bucky reached a trembling hand into his bomber jacket pocket for the box he had decided, at the last minute, to take with him. Your eyes widened when he handed you a little white box with a baby pink ribbon tied around it.

“It’s heavier than it looks,” you commented with a laugh. “What is it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I hate when people ask that. Open it ‘nd find out.”

“Okay, relax,” you laughed, pinching the end of the ribbon, untying it. “I’m opening it.”

Inside was a silver snow globe with miniature representations of the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, the Flatiron Building and the Chrysler Building. The base was engraved with the New York City skyline.

Bucky was holding his breath, your lack of reaction was making him even more nervous. You just stared at the snow globe, unmoving. The silence was too loud, he had to say something.

“It’s a snow globe,” Bucky explained as if it wasn’t obvious. “My sister’s boyfriend never visited New York so we took him to all the tourist spots. I saw your collection of snow globes on your dresser the other day and I noticed you don’t have one from New York and it’s dumb ‘cause we live in New York,” he paused, nearly breathless, “so when I saw it in the shop, I thought you might like it but it’s fine if you don-”

“I love it.”

He stopped rambling and briefly wondered if he sounded as creepy as he felt. He had no idea he could talk even half that fast.

“Thank you,” you said, not looking at him.

Your voice was strained, quiet. Bucky tilted his head to the side so he could see you better. You were still staring at the snow globe, your eyes shiny with tears. It threw him off for a second. Why were you crying?

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

He took the snow globe from your hands and placed it on the table. You made a sound of protest, your eyes following his movement. There was panic in your eyes as if you expected him to give it to someone else.

“Let’s just put this aside for now, okay?” He took your hands in his so you had something to hold onto. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong? Whatever you say will stay between us.”

Staring down at your joined hands, you took a deep breath. “I’m fine, it’s okay.”

He freed one of his hands to gently lift your chin up. You allowed him to do that, though you still avoided his piercing blue eyes.

“Did I do somethin wrong?” he asked. “I can see you’re upset and I’m really sorry. I was tryin t’be nice,” he paused, “for once.” A big cheeky grin spread across his face when you snorted.

You took a small step back, putting some distance between you and him. Bucky didn’t mind. He would have done the same thing if the situation were reversed. You needed a moment to collect yourself. He respected that.

“It’s not you,” you finally said. “It’s the... the snow globes. They’re special,” you paused, debating whether to continue. Bucky listened avidly to anything you said. You gave him a long look as if to determine whether you could trust him.

“My best friend gave them to me when we were younger. She was travelling a lot,” you explained. “I wasn’t a big fan of these things. They were kinda useless, only collecting dust on my shelves. But now I’m old enough to admit I was jealous of her,” you said with a little laugh before your face fell. “They’re important because it’s all I have left of her. She’s gone.”

You ended your story with a little shrug, but Bucky saw right through your brave façade. You pressed your lips together and stayed quiet for a few long, painful seconds. He didn’t dare move.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. He stared at you, not knowing what to do. He’d never seen you look so vulnerable, and yet you were still trying hard to keep your composure.

Your chin started quivering and a fat tear rolled down your cheek. His protective instincts stirred. Bucky immediately went to you and pulled you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held on just as tightly as he held you.

Your tears flowed, soaking the collar of his shirt. They fell in hot tracks down your cheeks; warm and strangely soothing. Your breathing slowed and the tension eased from your muscles.

Bucky held you and rocked you gently, swaying from side to side. His body was warm and solid against yours.

After a moment, you pulled back but Bucky kept you close. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the trail of tears.

“Sorry,” you whispered, sniffing, “I don’t usually lose control like this.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “Feels good to cry sometimes.”

Bucky wiped snot from your nose with his sleeve. He smiled when he heard your tiny groan of embarrassment.

“I never told this story to anyone before,” you said, not quite meeting his eyes.

“It’ll stay between us,” he promised.

“I feel like an idiot.” You laughed lightly, wiping away a few stray tears as they rolled down your cheeks. “Thanks for not laughing at me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. Yes, you had a complicated relationship but he would never make fun of you for something like this.

“Give me your hand,” he said, extending his palm.

You complied without hesitation and it made his heart do funny things. He folded his hand around your fingers and brought your hand to his chest. He slipped your joined hands under his shirt and guided them to his bare shoulder.

“Do you feel this?” he asked, pressing your fingers over a long, bumpy scar. “Almost lost my arm when I was ten. Some punk ass kids beat the crap outta me. My parents took me to the ER but I never told anyone what had happened. Not even Steve. These kids bullied me for months. It was hell.”

You ran your fingers over the scar again. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know,” he nodded, a smile on his lips.

You frowned at him and reached up to brush a tear from his cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“Dunno.” Bucky shrugged. “I feel like an asshole. Didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

“Same here,” you said with a smile. “Damn, we’re stuck in a loop.”

He let out an airy laugh. “Fuckin vicious circle.”

He reluctantly let go of your hand. You couldn't think of anything to say, and to fill the awkward silence between you, you took the snow globe and gave it a good shake. You watched with a smile as the snow swirled around the miniature monuments.  

“I’m gonna go home.” You pressed the snow globe against your chest, hoping he’d understand you were incredibly grateful for it. “Thank you, Bucky. I love it.” You took a step closer and kissed his cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary.

Bucky stood frozen, feeling like someone had turned the heat up in his chest. He was seeing you in a different light. You had allowed him to see you at your most vulnerable, giving him a part of yourself you always kept hidden deep inside. You trusted him.

In return, he opened up to you, trusting you completely.

You were walking out of the room when he shook himself out of his self-induced trance. “Wait!” He turned around to face you. He didn’t want to let you go.

Let me drive you home. I think I ruined a good opportunity to show you I care for you. I don’t like seein you cry. It fuckin kills me.

That’s what he tried to say, but no sound came out of his mouth. You were frowning at him, concern etched on your face.

“I know,” he spoke, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I know you and I have a... complicated friendship but I,” he paused, his stomach was in knots, “-please text me when you get home, all right?”

A smile spread across your face. “You worried about me?”

“What if I am?” he questioned back defensively.

Your smirk softened into a real smile. “I’ll text you.”

You waved goodbye and left, your footsteps echoing on the wooden floor as you made your way back to the living room.

Alone in the kitchen, Bucky slumped down in a chair. He felt a burst of heat coil low in his stomach. He sighed, running a hand down his face. Yeah, he had it bad, and now he had to do something about it or he’d lose his goddamn mind.