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rogueshadow1124 · 7 months ago

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INTO THE SHADOWS

[SATORU GOJO X FEM¡READER]

{May or may not follow the actual plot, there will be a few changes- I dont own any original characters apart from Y/N Fushiguro.}

(Part one), (Part two)

Chapter One - I AM Y/N FUSHIGURO

...

The lights flickered erratically in the dark bathroom cubicle in one of the dorm rooms, a shadowed figure flashed in time with the lights before the bulb popped leaving the room to be a blank space in an abyss. The figure crossed an arm along their stomach, wincing in pain as a warm liquid hit their hands, the other hand roamed around and slid into one of the open pockets of the gowned jacket they wore, pulling out a phone which they immediately scrolled through the device to turn on the flash groaning when an orb reflected from the mirror before them and hit their eyes.

"Fuck-" a feminine voice echoed through the air, croaky and soft- also known as the voice of Y/N Fushiguro, she had been assigned a mission over three days ago and hadn't been able to make it back until today, evidently returning with more than just a minor injury.

Her face was pretty clean apart from the red irritated scratch that ran across her left cheek to the top of her lip, but what was more than worrying was the overly large gash that ran across the right hand side of her torso down to her hip where her hand was currently clutching to add pressure relieving some of the pain and the blood flow that was pooling through the gaps of her fingers.

Never had she ever been this injured when on a mission, she always came back with the odd cut and bruise but nothing too deep or crucial. The curse that she had just thought seemed to be stronger than most, its body was a light shy tone with a crumpled face as of where the mouth opened like a flower and it had three white eyes which suggested it was blind although it looked to be smarter than any other as it had been strong enough to out-smart the female fushiguro and render her weak.

The girl stumbled towards the wooden cabinet that stood in the back corner, thrusting open the middle sqaure cove harshly making the board slam against the wall beside it. She reached inside to grab a hold of the small translucent box, rushing back over to the counter by the sink and the mirror, eyes already being adjusted to the dark aura of the room.

After opening the box she instantly pulled out the gauze bandages, a thin sharp pointed needle, some rubbing alcohol and a think piece of dark thread that she pierced through the tip of the needle tying of the end so it was ready for her to use. She grasped a paper towel piece that was laying around, popping the lid from the bottle before pouring a generous amount of the liquid onto it, peeling her shirt off, only to quickly press the liquid soaked material into the wound making a hiss rumble in her throat.

She made sure the wound was cleansed before picking up the threaded needle between her thumb and forefinger, bringing the sharp edge down to the end of the large gash, pushing to allow it to pierce the skin there.

...

A loud banging sound brought Y/N out of her slumber, a sequence of knocks ranged on her door. She grumbled lowly, pushing herself up from the thin mattress that she layed on, a gasp passing her lips when a shock of pain ran up her right side, reminding her about the events from the nights prior.

"Y/N. Y/N. Y/NNNNNNN-" Satorus voice came from the other side of the door, a playful tone tugging at the depths of his voice. Once she reached the door, grasping at the brass handle, tugging it open roughly which nearly made the white haired, blindfolded male fall through.

"What do you wan-"

"What happened to you?!" His sudden alarmed voice cut her short when he some how sensed her injury, catching sight of the gauze on her right hip, making her aware that she was infact wearing no shirt now but was luckily still clad in a sports bra that still had some blood staining on the underside. And she had come to take notice that it wasnt only story that was present but alongside him stood a pink haired boy, who was looking rather sheepishly at her with an small awkward smile.

"Its nothing Gojo." She replied bluntly, looking at him with boredom lacing her eyed as usual before she peered back at the other boy raising an eyebrow. "Who's this-"

"Aha this is Yuji Itadori, sukunas new vessel." Gojo noticed how she had switched the subject quickly, but he wasnt at all surprised by her actions, infact he was kind of expecting that to happen, it was something Y/N Fushiguro always did to avoid attention and take a conversation elsewhere so it wasnt fully focused on her. He turned back to the young student, nodding his head towards the girl, "This is Y/N Fushiguro."

"S-so is she related to megumi?"

"Yeah hes my kid brother." She answered eventhough the question was directed towards Gojo to answer. Yuji could now see the resemblance between the two, the dark calculating eyes, structured facial features although still withholding a baby face that pieced together perfectly, not to forget about the black hair.

The sound of a door creaking open caught the trio's attention, each of their heads turning to face a disheveled megumi who looks to have just woken up, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck before coming to ruffle at his hair, his dark eyes locking onto the three who were stood a couple dorm doors away from him.

"Erk… You’re next door?" The ravenette scowled, his nose scrunching as his eyes focused on the pink haired boy in question.

"Oh, Fushiguro! You look like you’re doing well now!" Yuji exclaimed, a look of excitement flashing across his features when speaking to the boy.

"There were plenty of other empty rooms, weren’t there?" Megumi rose a brow, now switching to gaze to his teacher.

"But isn’t livelier better? I thought it’d be good for-"

"Classes and missions are enough. This was an unwelcome favor." Gojos words were cut off by the megumi's, his tone becoming annoyed as he grumbled lowly. He looked boredly at Yuji who he had been peering inside his room, a surprised look coming to his face.

"Wow, it’s so organized!"

"I just said you’re unwelcome!" His eyes then suddenly landed to his sister, trailing down to her torso where he spotted the bandage covering her hip, eyebrows furrowing as he also caught sight of the little blotches of blood that had been seeping through and were soaked into her sports bra, his eyes wandered back up to her face not failing to notice the lengthy scratch. "What happened to you?"

"Its nothing gumi, dont worry about it." She huffed, spinning on the ball of her foot to walking back inside her dorm only to be followed by the younger boy who sent one last look towards Gojo and Yuji, proceeding to shut the door behind him.

"It doesnt look like nothing." He walked across the room towards the small bathroom that was attached to the dorm, hovering in the door frame with his arms crossed and a stern look crossing his features.

"Its fine, I'm okay- nothing I cant handle, alright?" Y/N glanced back at him for a second, turning back to face the mirror as she peeled back the gauze, getting a closer look at the wound in the light that now filled the room as opposed to lastnight. It didnt at all seem to look 'fine' as she put it, in fact it was all ridged on the outline where the claws of the curse ragged through the skin and it had looked even worse with the job she had done on it last night after seeing it up, the outer corner looked to be an irritated red colour and little bit of purple crept at the surface. "Shit-"

"That doesnt look fine does it." Although it would normally be a question, megumi had said this in a more stated tone.

"S'just a scratch- a very big one." She hushed her voice towards the end but obviously not quiet enough as her brother clicked his tongue at her response, looking at her through he reflection of the mirror where their eyes had met. Y/N huffed, pushing the edges of the gauze back down over the wound, turning so she was now facing megumi, a look of guilt and sorrow forming in her eyes. "I-I'll be alright gumi, I promise. Everything will be alright."

Word count- [1441]

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sal-is-my-favourite · 2 years ago

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Mr Vulcano - Sal Vulcano Fanfic

⚠️ ex student/teacher contains Smut and Alcohol Consumption ⚠️

You were out in a bar in Manhattan celebrating your 25th birthday with friends when someone caught your eye, a familiar face but you don’t know where you remember him from. You rack your brain as to what his name was and where did you know him from, the it hit you sqaure in the face. It was Mr Vulcano my English teacher from High School, the teacher I used to fantasize about bending me over his desk and pounding into me whilst calling me his little teachers pet. I catch eye contact with him and i’m sure i’m blushing, he looks to me and frowns his brow’s slightly mostly likely trying to remember my face.

I wander to the bar asking for a large Vodka and Lemonade as i’m about to pay a voice from beside me pipes up making it clear that they’d pay, I look to my right and there he is towering over me, tall dark and handsome. He hasn’t changed much since I left high school seven years ago, his beard was neat as was his hair. “Thank you for the drink” I clink my glass against his bottle of beer making him smile, as i’m about to walk away he grabs my hand pulling me back making me giggle a little and roll my eyes. He presses his lips against my ear and whispers “Miss Brown, did you just roll your eyes at me?”. I swallow the lump in my throat as he places his hand on the small of my back pulling me against his chest, he remembered me.

“You remember me?” I shout over the loud music. “Of course I remember you, if you weren’t my student all those years ago i’d have called you my own. There’s no rules saying I can’t see an ex student after they leave…”. Butterflies fill my tummy and my pants become damp as he speaks, I wanted him back then but I want him even more now.

“Do you have a first name or should I just call you Mr Vulcano?” I asks playfully. “Sal, but I do like Mr Vulcano. Reminds me of when you used to put your hand in the air and ask for help.” I smile thinking back to the memories of high school.

“Well, thanks for the drink Sal I appreciate it. Have a good night” I kiss his cheek before walking away from him. What was I doing? He wants me just as much as I want him. I go back to my friends and glance over at Sal talking to three others who were also my teachers, Mr Gatto, Mr Quinn and Mr Murray. I’m surprised I remembered their names it was that long ago, why was I playing hard to get.

As the night got on we were getting more drunk and wild on the dance floor, I wore a little black dress that just covered my bum with spaghetti straps on my shoulders and a deep plunge at my boobs pairing the dress with black heels to give me some extra height. As we’re dancing I feel a pair of hands on my waist and a body pushing against my back, I hope that’s his phone in his pocket. I turn around and to my surprise I come face to face with Sal, I smile and wrap my arms around his neck pulling him closer. I bite my lip as he looks down at me, his lips smash against mine taking me by surprise but I open my mouth letting his tongue explore mine. I could taste the beer on his tongue as he holds me flush against him. We both pull away and I look down blushing, he laughs slightly before leaning into my ear, nudging my blonde hair out of his way as he does so. “Let’s get out of here”.

Around half an hour later we were back at Sal’s apartment, we hadn’t made it to the bedroom as soon as we stepped foot through the door his lips were on mine and both our hands were clawing at each others clothes in desperation to get undressed. Sal lifts me up and I wrap my arms and legs around him instantly, he make his way to the bedroom bumping against the door Sal kicks it open with his heel and lays me down on his king size bed. Both of us now in our underwear our clothes discharded somewhere in the house Sal climbs on top of me kissing from my neck all the way down to my damp thong, I whimper when he places his lips over the wet fabric as he hooks his finger against the side of my thong slowly pulling it down my leg. As the fabric pulls itself away from my damp spot Sal’s lips instantly connect with my Clit sending a jolt through my body, my fingers grab the sheet beneath me as he works wonders on me. My moans and pleads only encouring him. I feel the coil in my stomach tighten and as i’m about to come he pulls away, the tears threatening to fall from my lids as I look at Sal who’s pulling down his tight boxers. My eyes widen at the length and thickness of him. Sure i’ve had sex before but not with someone as big as him. Sal looks at me and the expression on my face says everything.

“You ok?” He asks, I nod before blurting out “Sal, you’re massive! I’ve never had sex with someone as big as you…”. Sal grins back at the compliment, he gave off big dick energy but he was so much bigger than I imagined. Sal grabs a condom from his wallet rolling it on before climbing between my spread open legs. “I’ll go slow I promise” he places his forehead against mine as he pushes the tip into me, my mouth flies open but nothing comes out. I watch as he slowly pushes into me disappearing deep inside. There was a mixture of pain and pleasure but I nearly scream when he finally comes to a halt. He stays still for a minute letting me adjust to his size as he softly places little kisses on my neck, my arms wrap around his neck playing with his short hair. Sal places his head against mine once again looking in my eyes for permission to start moving, which I grant.

Sal pulls near enough all the way out before pushing himself back in, my breath becomes irregular and a little moan comes from my lips, he starts to go a bit faster causing me to moan his name which he clearly likes as he begins slamming into me. My nails claw at his arms as my back arches and the screams of his name leave my lips, Sal moans back all sorts of filth in my ear causing me to quickly reach my climax tightening around him and shaking uncontrollably, he pulls orgasm after orgasm out of me hitting my sweet spot everytime he slams into me harder, both our bodies stick together with sweat and the bed is covered in a large wet patch. Sal’s thrusts become frantic as he chases his orgasm. “O…oh my god Sal you’re so biggggg” I cry through gritted teeth, tears of pleasure rolling down the side of my face. “You’re so fucking tight, s..say my name… fucking say it” Sal wraps his hand around your throat forcing your eyes open to look at him. “S…s…sir!!!” I scream unintentionally, Sal growls back animalistically as he pulls my legs higher up his torso slamming deeper into me, this time I scream his name and he stills inside me crying out with pleasure as he explodes into the condom, ropes and ropes of his white come filling the latex. Sal is dripping with sweat as he looks down at you breathing heavy. “You did so well, let me get you cleaned up”. He pulls out of you as gently as he can, getting up and going into the bathroom you watch as he disappears coming back minutes later with a warm flannel wiping between your sensitive legs. You lie exhausted as Sal climbs into bed beside you softly moving your sticky hair from your eyes. Your cheeks burn crimson as you look at Sal’s body covered in angry red scratches, he notices you looking and shrugs laughing slightly. Your eyes fall closed as you smuggle close to Sal’s sticky body.

#fanfic #impracticaljokersfanfic #salvulcanofanfic #impracticaljokers #brianquinn #jamesmurray #joegatto #salvulcano #teacher #fanfiction #midnights #newyork

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

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Guiding Light (9)

summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra and now, Bucky can’t breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 7k warnings: angst™, cannon violence, PTSD symptoms, 🖤series masterlist // series playlist

The tight grip Bucky’s arm was the only thing keeping his feet on the ground. His mind was a thousand miles away, somewhere up in the clouds because what laid before him couldn’t possibly be real, couldn’t be anything but the darkest corners of his imagination or a fantasy that had been warped twisted and cruel within his nightmares.

It couldn’t actually be you lying at his feet in Natasha’s arms, scars and burns upon your skin and blood seeping through your clothes. It couldn’t be because he’d watched you die. He saw it happen on live television along with the entirety of New York City and he’d seen the bullet pierce through your temple, saw the blood splatter on the wall, and the cold, unforgiving stare of your eyes.

The grip on his arm tightened as he started to feel light-headed and he looked to his right to find Steve watching him, concerned and terrified and filled with a remorse Bucky couldn’t begin to describe himself. Steve’s handprint marked in red on Bucky’s skin and the burn was a relief from the agonizing churning in his stomach.

Men and women in white coats rushed through the garage at Tony’s demands, urgently nudging Sam aside as they attempted to move you to the stretcher. It took a moment before Natasha was willing to let you go, her arms wrapped so tightly around your barely conscious frame, hands brushing through your hair, trying to wipe the blood from your face. It was Steve that eventually kneeled down beside her, giving her a slight nod, a brush of his hand over her shoulder and a careful whisper in her ear, before she let go.

Bucky watched as they carried you inside on the gurney, shouting orders at one another and hooking every possible machine up to your body as they could manage. Your left arm hung over the edge, limp, and a dread so devastating filled Bucky’s chest because you looked so lifeless and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that again; watching you die for a second time. Even as you disappeared into the building, Tony and Sam on the heels of the paramedics, Bucky couldn’t find the will to move his legs. He was frozen, paralyzed, and he was certain he was dreaming.

It had to be a nightmare, some cruel trick of his mind, because how else could you end up dropped at the driveway of the Avenger’s compound after all that happened?

He started pinching at his arm now that Steve’s grip left him, tugging skin between his fingers until a sharp pain radiated on his right forearm, but he wasn’t waking up. The skin was turning bright red, blood vessels popping and Steve grabbed a hold of his hand, ushering it away.

“You’re awake, Buck,” he said softly, knowing enough to be aware of the small ticks in Bucky’s coping, heathy and not, that he used to keep himself grounded. He looked down and his skin was already purpling. His therapist would frown at that.

“It can’t really be her, can it?” Bucky whispered, voice too broken and shaken for anyone but Steve to hear.

He didn’t respond right away, his left hand squeezing Bucky’s forearm reassuringly as his right curled around Natasha’s shoulders, tugging her into the crook of his chest and Bucky winced as he heard her trying to stifle her cries. Steve let out a heavy sigh, staring out into the garage before he glanced down at the pavement by their feet. Speckles of red discolored the cement below.

“I don’t... I don’t know,” Steve admitted carefully and Bucky swallowed back the bile in his throat.

Bucky looked to the door at the end of the garage. Tony and Sam had followed the med team as they rushed you to the medical wing, leaving Bucky, Steve, and Nat outside. He tried to move a leg forward but found it was too heavy under him.

“Steve,” Bucky choked out, his hands shaking, “if she’s been alive this whole time and I didn’t...”

“Don’t go there,” Steve urged, hand gripping tight on Bucky’s arm, “not yet. Let’s get some answers first, okay?”

Bucky nodded, though it didn’t curb the rush of anxiety in his veins. The very idea that you could have been alive while he did nothing to find you, while he so selfishly caved to the darkest parts of himself to try and forget you was unimaginable.

An unsteady breath left his lungs and he pushed himself forward. Steve and Natasha trailed behind him and he knew if they hadn’t, he might have turned and run. It was what he did best.

The med wing was in chaos when he arrived. Dozens of nurses rushing down the halls as Dr. Cho sprinted past the waiting area and down the double doors, beyond where Bucky could see. He watched as she disappeared down the long hallway, turning into a room you had likely been wheeled into. His hands gripped onto the back of a chair, arm shaking, trying to get a better look he’d never find, until Sam blocked his view.

“Come on, man,” he urged, gesturing to the chair next to Steve, “have a seat, will you? You’re making the rest of us nervous.”

There was a soft laugh in his voice, light-hearted and genuine, and Bucky knew it was Sam’s effort at calming him. He was subtle about it, playing it off as his usual humor and Bucky appreciated it more than he would let on because it gave him a sense of normalcy he so desperately craved. Slowly, Bucky let himself collapse into the chair and found his knees ached from how locked they had been.

He didn’t know how long he spent hunched over on that chair, elbows to knees, hands wringing at one another as he tried to keep his breaths as even as he could manage. Tony was pacing relentlessly down the lobby, talking to himself and jotting a few things down on a notepad every few steps. Sam was standing by a vending machine, arms crossed and tapping his foot either from impatience or to the beat of a song in his head, his expression was too hard to reach which. Steve sat on Bucky’s right, staring straight ahead, still as a statue, while Natasha was curled up on the seat beside him, trying to find rest amongst the tension in the air.

Eventually, the double doors parted and Dr. Cho emerged, discarding light blue gloves in the bin and with a solemn grimace on her face. Bucky jumped to his feet the moment he heard the swing of the doors, panic keeping him on alert and unable to relax for even a second. Steve wasn’t far behind him, shaking Nat from her sleep as they met Dr. Cho halfway. Sam made his way over to the group, swaying on his feet as he stood.

“What’s going on here, Helen?” Tony asked quickly and for that, Bucky was thankful.

Dr. Cho paused, hands in the pockets of her lab coat as she glanced between the nervous Avengers in the room. She let out a heavy sigh and shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s her.”

Bucky stumbled on his feet, grabbing a hold of the exposed beam beside him. His whole world was caving in and he couldn’t separate the relief from the devastation of knowing you’d been victim to Hydra this whole time while he grieved and mourned and threw himself back to the darkness you so tirelessly worked to pull him out of.

“How is that... How is that even possible?” Steve questioned, speaking the words from Bucky’s mouth. He didn’t trust his own voice.

“I’m not sure,” Dr. Cho replied. She glanced back at the doors before turning to face the team. “I’ve run every test I could think of; compared DNA from previous injuries and checked for old scars I personally stitched in the OR. It all matched. It’s Y/n. She’s... alive.”

“But,” Natasha started, her voice quieter than Bucky had ever heard it, “we all saw what happened. No one could have survived a headshot like that.”

A silence fell over the room because she was right, there was no real answer for that. Bucky’s grip on the beam was so tight he could feel the metal warping under his fingers, mailable like putty. Steve scratched at the back of his head, glancing up at Bucky before his eyes trailed across the room to Stark, who gave him a single nod.

“She could have survived if it wasn’t her who got shot,” Steve proposed in a kind of sad revelation, sharing a knowing look with Tony.

“I’ve had my suspicions,” Tony agreed, rubbing his hand down his mouth, “couldn’t find any proof, but something was off with her eyes in that video. There was a fleck of gold in the center of her iris common in certain inhumans. Shapeshifters, mostly.”

Bucky could barely process what was happening. He’d been through more in his life than anyone else could have survived; been tortured at the hands of sadistic men, his memories wiped and destroyed, forced to kill for an organization he never agreed to, and yet, nothing hit him with an overwhelming anguish quite like finding out you were still alive.

It was the very thing he found himself praying for to a God he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in; for this all to be a horrible joke and for you to come walking in through the door with the smile on your face that brought butterflies to his stomach, for you to grab his hand and drag him on whatever adventure you had in store whether it was going into the city to remind him of where he grew up or sitting in your room watching movies and getting popcorn in your bed.

It was what he dreamed of and yet, he couldn’t help but think of every day since the video in Times Sqaure that he wasn’t looking for you, wasn’t actively searching to find you and bring you home. He’d given himself over to the soldier just to find some relief from the grief in his chest that he didn’t even stop to consider it was just another ploy by Hydra to torture him and the team, to make them believe you were dead. He stopped looking for you. He gave up on you. He left you in the hands of the very same people who ripped and tore and destroyed him until he was only a shell of who he used to be.

He let that happen to you.

He felt sick.

Nausea swept up Bucky’s stomach and suddenly he was leaning over a trashcan, heaving the contents of his stomach in dry, angry retches. A hand ran over his back, Steve’s, and he groaned at the horrid taste of bile on his tongue. Sam quickly jogged over and handed him a bottle of water with a tight-lipped smile. Bucky took it gratefully and gurgled the remaining stomach contents from his mouth, spitting it into the can.

“It’s a lot to process, I know,” Dr. Cho continued with a steady hand, “but she’s still under the sedation for now. I imagine she’ll wake in a few hours and she’ll be... confused. Scared, probably. Her physical shape is better than I would have expected but we don’t know what they’ve done to her mind. She should have a familiar face in there.”

All eyes fell on Bucky and he clenched his jaw, feeling unnerved by their stares, the automatic assumption that it would be him that you woke up to. Before today, he might not have ever questioned it, would have stepped up before the idea was even proposed. He’d always been the one sitting at your bedside after missions that landed you in the med wing, holding your hand as you slept and pulling away the moment he realized you were waking. He’d be met with your soft smile, a light grunt, and you’d ask him what happened with a pained laugh. It was where he was supposed to be.

He wasn’t sure anymore.

“I don’t... I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, thrown. He ushered for the rest of the team to back off, giving him the space to talk to Bucky alone. As the team retreated to separate chairs around the waiting room, Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. “What are you talking about, Buck? You know she’s gonna want to see you, don’t you?”

“What if…” Bucky let out an aching sigh, and he could feel the words spilling from his tongue before he could stop them, “what if she doesn’t know me? Or what if she does and she hates me for giving up on her? What if—”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Steve interrupted, offering Bucky a kind smile. “You won’t know how she’ll react until you go in there. Trust me Buck, no matter what happens, she’ll find her way back. You did.”

Bucky nodded, though it didn’t ease the tension in his chest. He supposed Steve was right. He had been in your place before, been put through torture at the hands of Hydra and believed to be dead while the rest of the world turned on. He’d been at the worst in his life and he still found a way to swim to the surface. It was because of you, because of Steve and this makeshift family that he was able to survive what happened to him. He’d have to find a way to do it for you, too.

“You’ll be here?” Bucky asked nervously, dropping his gaze to the floor quickly from the shame of it. He couldn’t admit he was afraid to be alone with you, afraid that you might revolt at the sight of him, but knowing Steve was out here, acting as his lifeline, made it feel a little less terrifying.

Steve smiled, giving a reassuring nod. “I’m not going anywhere, pal.”

As Bucky took his first steps down the long hallway, he was certain he had fire in his veins. He glanced back at the team as they waited in the lobby, the only eyes on him were Steve’s, giving him gentle encouragement to keep going. He pushed past the double doors and a muffled silence fell over the hall as they closed behind him. All he could hear was the gentle clicking of a heart monitor in the distance.

He passed four rooms on his left, three on his right, all empty before he came up to the one the beeping was coming from. His hands were clenched painfully at his side, unable to take the step to turn the corner into your room because it meant seeing you for the first time in months, truly seeing you. He’d been too in shock, too out of it outside the garage where you were found to really see you, unconvinced that he was even awake.

“She’s still asleep,” Dr. Cho’s voice came from behind him, soft, encouraging. He watched as she paced around to his front, glancing into your room with a gentle smile. “We washed the blood off so she doesn’t look nearly as bad as we would have expected. Looks like she’s been eating okay, hasn’t lost much weight. No significant physical injuries.”

Bucky nodded, feeling a little more at ease, prepared to walk into your room. “Where did the blood come from then?”

Dr. Cho shrugged. “That I’m not sure. It’s not hers though. She may have sustained it in the escape.”

Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t even considered that you had escaped. Maybe it was his twisted mind but he instinctively assumed that it was Hydra who left you on their doorstep, as their final blow, to remind the avengers that Hydra held power over them, could manipulate them and rip them from the inside out. He assumed that it was just another reminder that they they’d failed you in the worst possible way, a new layer of torture. It was agonizing enough for it to be.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Cho called quietly, pulling him from his trance and Bucky met her eye. She pressed out a kind smile. “Y/n is alive. Focus on that.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled sincerely, trying to re-center himself. He watched for a moment as Dr. Cho disappeared down the hall, the soft clicking of her heels on the tile echoing with every step. He waited until he could no longer hear the tapping of her shoes and closed his eyes, taking in a heavy breath before he turned the corner to your room.

As he stepped inside, his hand gripped at the frame of the door, needing something to hold onto as he finally let himself take you in. Covered by the thin cotton sheets of the hospital bed and a light blue t-shirt and sweats the nursing team must have changed you into, you laid on your back, arms resting down at your sides, head dropped just slightly over to the right, chin pressed to chest, eyes closed.

To his right, a pile of your clothes sat folded upon the countertop, black fabric discolored in deep maroon, and he did his best to ignore it as he made his way to the chair at the side of your bed.

It was like a dream and none it felt real. Bucky was sure he’d wake up at any moment and you’d be ripped away from him again, left alone to cold embrace of the dark, by himself in a room that never felt warm enough without you in it. He collapsed into the soft cushioning; an expense Tony had splurged for after the frequency in which the team was getting hurt in the field. Plastic framing wasn’t cutting it anymore.

So, Bucky carefully slid the chair closer to your bed and tried to relax into the pillowy seat, but it was too soft, kept him on edge, and he let his eyes roam your body. There were scars coating your skin, more than he knew to be on your body the last time he’d seen you; scars that had healed and faded with time, but they had been angry once, red and oozing, infected. His eyes trailed up to your collarbone and he was relieved to find the bones weren’t protruding the way they had been in the videos Hydra sent to the media in the months you’d been missing; ones that were confirmed to be you, at least. They’d been starving you at one point and you’d become weak and gaunt because of it. For some reason, they started feeding you again; well eventually, because muscle had started to build again on your bones.

Then, with bated breath, Bucky caught sight of your face; the face that calmed him, that soothed him just by walking into a room, and if he tried hard enough he could pretend you were sleeping, like this was just some mission gone wrong and you’d wake up soon with that sweet smile and a laugh that made his stomach weak and ask him what happened.

But he didn’t live in fantasies. He didn’t trust his reality to be anything but cold and cruel.

He could still see the faded outline of the scar on your cheekbone that had been present in one of the first videos. Without thinking, his right hand reached out and brushed a thumb across the faded scar, feather light movements, and your nose scrunched softly at the touch. Bucky pulled back instantly, flinching away like he’d burned you.

Clenching at his jaw, he slumped back into the seat, unable to tear his eyes away from you. Your eyes were still closed, still under the effects of the sedation, and Bucky sighed of relief. He knew there would be a time soon when you woke up, when you saw him sitting next to you, and he wasn’t prepared for that just yet.

He leaned forward, gathering your hand in his and he choked back a sob he hadn’t realized he had been on the verge of. He brushed his eyes with his wrist, pressing his lips carefully to your knuckles, an intimate gesture he only dared to do when you were asleep, when you couldn’t see how much he loved you, how much he had fallen for you, the feelings only growing the longer he knew you until they consumed him with a brightness he never thought he’d be privileged to again.

Hand pressed tightly in his own, Bucky leaned against the bed, his forehead against the edge of the cot. His eyes were heavy, his body tired and aching, and he wondered if he just closed his eyes for a minute, maybe then, he’d be ready when you woke up.

If he just closed his eyes for a minute...

This wasn’t Bucky’s first mission, not even with the Avengers. He’d been on reconnaissance ops with Sam, undercover at a dingy money laundering poker tournament in the basement of a Chinese takeout joint with Barton, halfway around the world fighting organized crime with Steve. He knew his place in the field, felt more secure there than almost anywhere else.

But this was his first mission with you.

You winked at him from your seat in the quinjet as it landed in an open field on the outskirts of Vienna, unfastening the buckles on your seatbelt and jumping up to gather your weapons from the wall. Bucky watched as you bounced with every step, excited almost, and he couldn’t suppress the smile on his face as you lit up the moment you caught sight of him staring at you. Bucky chuckled under his breath, trying to rid himself of the nerves, and removed his own restraints.

He’d been officially instated as an Avenger only six months prior and he still managed to feel like he fit perfectly in place by your side. You handed him his rifle and a handgun he strapped to his jacket without having to ask. You just knew.

Steve and Natasha had already taken off for the east wing of the building while Sam and Tony flew overhead to check for infrared and anything out of the usual. You and Bucky had been assigned to the west wing, tasked with downloading intelligence straight from the personal computer of the arms’ dealer you were ambushing. It was your specialty after all and Bucky was essentially the hired gunmen to watch your back. He didn’t mind. The idea of keeping an eye on you was one that helped ease the nerves in his stomach being in the field with you. This way, he didn’t have to trust anyone but himself to keep you safe.

“You know,” you said as you disembarked from the quinjet, shutting the hatch behind you and waiting patiently for Bucky to follow, “maybe when we’re done here, you’ll let me take you to that record store I was telling you about. Old man like you might like having a record player, huh?”

Bucky pressed his lips to a tight smile. “I think the Splatifly playlist is just fine, doll.”

“Spotify,” you corrected cheekily as you kicked in the door to the first floor. You took out a guard as he passed by with little hesitation, turning back to him with a grin. “Records just have a different sound, Buck, or did you forget?”

Bucky laughed, following close behind as you made your way down the hall, weapons raised. “You find a way to put that playlist of yours on a record for me and I’ll get a record player.”

“Buck,” you whined playfully and he took out a guy who turned the corner before you could spot him, “I can suggest albums for you too, you know. There’s a lot more music out there than that one playlist. Besides, I made it months ago at this point.”

“I don’t mind.”

Bucky shrugged, pushing past you to grab the door, giving you a quick signal before he yanked it open and you stepped through, taking out three men on sight while Bucky took out the remaining two. Bodies fell to the ground and you turned back to him with a pout.

“You must be bored of it by now. It’s outdated,” you continued, a hand perched on your hip and Bucky wondered if he ever saw anything as endearing and perfect as you. Holding a Glock in one hand, dressed in black Kevlar, with a grin as wide as your cheeks on your face; sweet and deadly, soft and lethal. He was more taken with you than he dared to admit.

“Yeah, well, so am I, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled as he shoved a body aside with his foot to clear a path for you to the computers. You followed behind him, grabbing a hold of his shoulder as you stumbled and brushed it off with a laugh and a flush in your cheeks.

You pulled the flash drive from your pocket. “I’m going to extract the intel. You want to double check the hallway?”

“You think I missed someone?” he teased, nudging you in the shoulder and the giggle that left your lips was the sweetest sound he ever heard.

“Course not,” you replied with a grin, “but I can't work with you hovering over my shoulder.”

“Naturally,” he agreed sarcastically, shaking his head as he stepped back to give you the space you needed. He watched from a careful distance as you kicked aside the rolling chair and typed away at the keyboard. Green lettering on black screen. Code he couldn’t begin to understand.

With one final check back to make sure you were clear, Bucky stepped out into the hallway. It was quiet, not a soul in sight. He straightened his back and pressed a finger to the com in his ear.

“Should be out soon,” he said into the mic, “Y/n’s abstracting the intel now.”

“Good work,” Steve’s voice replied, grainy and a little out of breath, “get out when you can. There’s more of their guys our way than we anticipated and – oomf!”

“You good?”

“Fine,” Steve grunted out. “Just finish up there so we can get out of this place, okay?”

Bucky laughed, turning to head back into the room. As he stepped inside, he saw the movement of the guard on the floor too late. You were at the computer, turning to face him with a smile on your face and the flash drive in your hand because you finished just in time, but the reflective edge of a knife caught your attention and there wasn’t enough time for you to pick up your gun or react before it was plunged into your stomach. You fell to your knees and something carnal and rabid tore through Bucky.

He rushed forward, yanking the guard away from you and firing the rest of his clip into the man’s chest before he kicked the body a good twenty feet away for measure. You were on the ground, legs too weak to hold you up, hands clutching at the blood gushing from your stomach.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Bucky cursed rapidly under his breath as his hands hovered over you, too afraid to even lay a hand on your body, terrified he might make it worse.

“That’s not good, huh?” you mumbled, words slurring, and Bucky looked up to your face in horror to find blood dripping from your lips.

He wanted to scream, wanted to give into the shaking in his hands and the fear paralyzing him, but he knew you wouldn’t make it if he did. The very idea made him sick to his stomach. So, in haste, he gathered you into his arms and held you tight against his chest, as he lifted you into the air.

“I need a med evac,” Bucky said into the coms, his voice unsteady, rushed.

“What’s going on?” Sam replied and Bucky couldn’t find the words to respond.

“Y/n’s hurt,” Bucky gasped out, his grip on you so tight he was sure he’d leave bruising behind, “I need— fuck! — I need a way out of here, now!”

“Head to the northwest exit,” Sam instructed, voice stern and calm, everything Bucky couldn’t be. “I’ll meet you there.”

Bucky nodded and he pushed his way out into the hallway, relieved to find it empty. He turned down a corridor and ran as fast as he could manage.

“Buck,” you gurgled, eyes falling heavy as you curled up against his chest.

“No! No, don’t you do that!” Bucky shouted, shaking you until you opened your eyes again. “You need to stay awake, you hear me? Don’t you dare close your eyes!”

You nodded sleepily, lulling your head against his shoulder. Panic lived in his veins and he was struggling to breath; not from the exertion but from the fear of losing you, of this being it. He couldn’t fathom it. He needed more time with you. Tears started to blur his vision no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay.

When he looked down at you, you were watching him, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“That’s right. Stay with me, sweetheart,” Bucky pleaded, “I’ve got you.”

He spotted the exit at the end of the hallway, the door opening on the other side and light seeping in. The end of the tunnel. He was so close, just feet away, and he glanced down at you to tell you just that, but your lids were falling shut, your head slumping against his shoulder, arm falling flatly by your side.

“Y/n! Wake up!” he shouted, desperate now as he reached the end of the hall. Sam stood on the other end of the door. Bucky shook you, but it did no use. “Come on!”

“Barnes, give her to me,” Sam requested urgently and Bucky only held you tighter against his chest. He knew Sam could get you to the help you needed, help Bucky wasn’t able to provide himself, and it took every ounce of strength he could manage before he passed you over. The weight of your body left his arms feeling cold and empty.

Sam didn’t waste any time as he took off into the air. He was reporting to Steve what was going on, where he was taking you, but Bucky could hardly focus. He was covered in your blood.

Sam managed to get you to the cradle on the quinjet and stabilized you while the rest of the team sprinted back. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes away from the machine the entire flight home; had Sam explain how it worked about twenty different times because he was terrified you were going to bleed out before they even got you home.

But by some miracle, you’d made it. Mostly. Dr. Cho had stitched up the wound and the fixed any damage beneath the surface, hanging a blood bag to replace what you’d lost. Your hand was clenched between his, pressed to his forehead as he leaned against the cot.

The moment he heard a groan pass your lips; eyes shot up at you to find you wincing as you came to. He released your hand before you could notice his hold on to. You laid eyes on him and relief seemed to pour through you and a smile grazed your face.

“Hey Buck,” you whispered, voice hoarse, and he nearly laughed through the lump in his throat. He grinned, reaching forward and brushing a hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You were warm under his touch and the smile that followed was enough to ease any pain he’d felt since you’d been hurt.

“Hey sweetheart.”

A soft rustle of a groan and Bucky snapped awake, jumping up from his position leaning against the bed, creases of the sheets on his cheek, as wide eyes locked upon you. A broken whimper cried from your throat as you scrunched your shoulders, head darting to the other side of the pillow. Your hand clenched in his, legs squirming under the sheets.

“Y/n?” Bucky called as gently as his could, caressing your hand and trying to ease the tension from your locked fist. Bucky leaned forward, using the cool side of his left hand to touch over your forehead, brushing away the beads of sweat that had formed while he slept. You were warm under the sensors of his metal plates and he gritted his teeth, looking to the hallway to see if Dr. Cho was nearby.

He wondered briefly if he should leave for just a moment, to find someone better than him who could help ease you through whatever was happening in your head, but the idea of stepping away, even for a second, was too painful.

You groaned, the soft ache of a tremor in your voice and Bucky watched with his heart in his throat as your eyes slowly fluttered open. You swallowed, breaths incredibly shallow as you looked around the room, staring straight ahead, your entire body stiff as a board. You didn’t seem to even notice his hand still wrapped tightly around yours.

He licked at his hips, unsure of what to say or how to shake you from whatever trance you were in, so he spoke a name that was familiar to you, one that he reserved only for you, hoping it might bring you back down from the clouds.

“Sweetheart?”

In sharp movements, you sprung up suddenly from the bed and Bucky dropped your hand in the shock of it. Before he could quite react, you’d thrown yourself off the far side of the cot, stumbling over to the counter, your grip on the surface barely able to keep you on your feet. You were struggling to stand, legs wobbling under you from the sedation, and your breaths were coming in fast, too fast, and he was sure you were on the verge of a panic attack.

“Hey, hey, hold on now,” Bucky urged, trying his best to stay calm as your hand slid over the counter, knocking various items to the ground in haste before you grabbed a tight hold of a pair of scissors. You spun around to face him, breaths panting, arms shaking, hair erratic, and you held out the sharp end of the scissors at him. Bucky threw his arms in the air defensively.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he begged, taking a careful step towards you only for you to jump back. He bit on his lip, pushing aside the awful pain in his stomach to watch you retreat from him in fear. You’d never done that before, not even when he’d been triggered into the soldier. He took a step back, away from you to give you space.

“Y/n, it’s me. It’s Bucky.”

You didn’t react, staring at him like he was something in your dreams.

“You’re safe,” he pleaded, a little desperate now, eyeing the scissors in your hand and wondering how fast he’d need to dive before you threw them at him. “You’re home. The whole teams been waiting for you to wake up.”

Your eyes darted around the room, like you were trying to catch your bearings, trying to recognize a familiar space, one you’d been in dozens of times before. Bucky took the risk of moving a step in your direction while you were distracted by the soft whites and greys of the med bay and you didn’t flinch on his approach. A steady breath in and he moved closer until he stood within your reach.

“I need you to give me the scissors, okay? No is going to hurt you,” Bucky said, his voice low and raspy from the lump burning in the back of his throat. He tried to still the shaking in his hand as he noticed tears welling in your eyes, glassy and red. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please, sweetheart. You know me. You’re safe here.”

His hand ghosted over yours, your grip weakening on the scissors as you stared straight ahead to his chest, unable to meet his eye. You were shaking, hands trembling, and Bucky was terrified.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He could barely hear his own voice as a tear slid down the side of your face, your jaw clenching so tightly muscles twitched through your cheek.

Slowly, your eyes trailed up his chest, until eventually you met his eye, filled with tears and bated breaths. You stared at him, eyes darting over his features like you were trying to convince yourself he was real, that this wasn’t a dream or a sick, twisted nightmare. Lips parting as if to speak, trembling as you struggled to find words, but eventually, in a raspy, broken sound, you choked out his name.

“Bucky?”

He closed his eyes for only a moment. The relief of your voice, even as shattered and numbed as it was, flooded through his body in warmth and solace and heaven. He nodded; his face wet with tears as a sob cracked through you, deafening and puncturing his heart through his chest. The scissors dropped from your quivering hand and the clash of metal against tile filled the room.

You threw yourself at him, arms crushing around his body as you dug your face into the crook of his neck, squeezing and pulling and unable to get as close as you needed even with your body flush against his.

Bucky didn’t know how to react, too stunned and feeling like he could wake up at any moment, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you as tight against him as he could manage. As you brushed tears against his neck and your back shook with sobs, Bucky kissed at your hair, trying to soothe you in the ways you knew so well to care for him, but he was never any good at this, not like you were. But he loved you and you were alive and in his arms, so he poured every ounce of his relief into his embrace.

“I’m here, sweetheart, you’re okay,” he whispered against your hair, trying to carefully guide you back to the bed when he felt your legs unsteady under you. You only gripped him tighter, like you were afraid he might leave, and it sent an awful pang to his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, love. I’m here.”

“I don’t--” you gasped against him, your breath warm against his neck and you didn’t dare pull away, “I don’t understand. I don’t-- I don’t know how I got here.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “You don’t remember?”

You shook your head, your grip on him only growing tighter, like you were grounding yourself against him, tethering yourself to the Earth through his body to remind you of what was real. Wrapped so tightly around him, it hurt a little against his ribs, made it a bit harder to breathe, but Bucky would have scarified a lot more than his breath and mild discomfort to ease even an ounce of your pain.

“I-- I don’t know. I don’t-- there’s gaps,” you stuttered out, pulling away from him just enough for Bucky to see the hesitancy in your features, the confusion, and the fear. “I don’t know... I don’t...”

“It’s alright, doll, it’s okay,” Bucky cooed softly as he helped you back to the bed. You were getting lightheaded, delirious to the point of panic, your eyes falling heavy, and he needed to get you to rest before you hurt yourself.

With a steady hand, he eased you back onto the bed, sitting on the edge of the cot because you wouldn’t let his hand out of your grip and he had no intention of taking it from you. The more contact against you, the calmer you seemed. He kept his thigh pressed against yours, his hand intertwined in your own, metal digits running soothingly over your arm.

“We’ll figure it out,” Bucky promised gently, pushing out a soft smile for you. You nodded slowly, curling up in the bed and letting your lids close, too exhausted to keep them open any longer. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I'll find some answers for you.”

A soft groan vibrated through your chest in acknowledgement.

“Try and get some sleep,” he requested quietly, resting his feet on the chair beside the bed and settling in on the edge of the bed, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

It only took a few seconds before your heart rate settled down, the soft beeps of the monitor hanging above you pulsing at even, steady intervals, until your breaths became longer, calmer, and you’d fallen asleep, pulled back under the sedation in your bloodstream.

Bucky clenched at his jaw, trying to keep himself from giving into the sob slowly etching his way through his back, but it broke through him anyway. The relief of you being so close, the pain of knowing you’d been alive all this time, was too much for his body to handle and it flooded out of him in tears and gasps for breath and muffled cried as he tried to stay silent.

After he was able to calm himself again and the tears dried, he leaned forward and gingerly ran his fingers over the long faded scar on your cheekbone; the same one he saw the day the first video aired on the news. It was thick and raised under his fingers, still discolored and angry.

As he watched the careful rise and fall of your chest, the gentle vibrations of your breaths, Bucky found the questions surging in the back of his mind didn’t matter as much, not right now. Not as he held your hand in his, warm to the touch, and you lying so close to him. Nothing else mattered because you were here, you were alive, and he wasn’t going to let you go for anything.

Not again.

----

reunion!!! I know it’s been a long time coming and there’s a thousand unanswered questions, but stick around and I promise I’ll answer them before the fic is over :)

your comment and feedback mean everything so tell me what you’re thinking!

tags 🏥 @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @panic-naran / @fairislesheets / @kaliforniacoastalteens / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @daydreamsquad / @deanssweetheart / @maybesomedaytho / @montypythonsholysnail / @saharzek / @jillybeaner13 / @chubby-dumplin / @searchingforbucky / @alohafromhell1 / @tabalugax / @shesalatesh / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @aliensbecameourstyle / @bucksgoat / @serpensortiaaa / @trash-rats-unite / @hungry-pasta / @nervosaa / @lbuck121/ @get0verit / @obama-mia / @imsoft-barnes / @this-broken-band-girl / @michelehansel / @itz-kira / @forever157 / @grey-water-colors / @sebastianstan-posts / @sarcastic-and-cool / @no-clue-whats-happenin / @capsgrl / @happyeyesandsunshine / @slithredn / @13sunken-ships13 / @thefandomplace / @wxstedhexrt / @jennmurawski13 / @galaxkay / @moonlessnight14 / @kittybritty7 / @sweetheartbarnes / @pancakefancake

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #guiding light

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