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dckweed · 1 year ago

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THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND ➺ bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut.

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

comment below for taglist!

wordcount: 2260

PART ONE - THE LIE.

The music was soft in the background for once, his friends laughter the loudest thing in the room. Bob couldn’t help but to laugh along with them as he took a swig of his third beer of the night, a little more than tipsy but not completely drunk. He knew he was a lightweight, and this was the only time he ever preferred to drink, in the comfort of his own home surrounded by people he trusted. His friends were all gathered around his coffee table, some of them on the couch, some of them sprawled on the floor as they laughed and goofed off, the NHL game they had all gathered to watch together no longer a top priority.

Bradley and Natasha had been talking about the blind dates they had been on recently, set up by each other, each of them pointing out the flaws in the others choosing with racious laughter as they knocked back their alcohol and made a mess of Bob’s coffee table as they playfully fought each other, Bradley flipping over the bowl of potato chips that was sat out as he kicked his leg across the table from the floor to hit his friend. Bob laughs at the scene, not minding the mess because the situation was just so funny and he was for once in his life, enjoying being in the moment.

“Look what you did, numbnuts! You spilled all the chips!” Hangman shouts, tossing his couch pillow at them from where he lay on the love seat across from Bob. Bradley catches it mid-air and tosses it back to Jake, a terrible throw and a clear enough window into how drunk he is because it doesn’t get any air and knocks clear into the row of open bud lights, knocking them over and causing what was left to slosh out onto the floor. Javy groans, slipping out of the chair he was sat in to pick up the bottles as Bob gets up to get a towel to sop up the wet beer from his outrageously expensive rug so his little shih tzu, Cosie wouldn’t go licking it up when he passed out tonight.

He was only gone for a few moments but by the time he came back the subject of dating had suddenly been turned to him. He shakes his head, trying not to think to hard about how he was way more than tipsy by that point because the whole room started to spin when he did that. “No, not dating right now.” He says, kneeling down to start cleaning up the mess as Javy comes back from throwing away the bottles.

Jake scoffs from next to him taking a long drag of his own beer, and Bob braces himself for whats coming next. “Of course not,” He says, a small bit of disdain in his tone, but Bob knew it was all just friendly teasing, even if it did hurt him. Even if he was so tired of constantly hearing from everyone about how he needed to get out into the dating pool. Truthfully, he was tired of being single, but he didn’t need these jack offs meddling in his love life the way Natasha had been doing with her blind dates with girlfriends she’d made off base. It just didn’t work out for him, it never did.

But god, he was tired of hearing it from Jake about how he was ‘too afraid of girls’ to actually go out and date one, they were grown ass adults, weren’t they? Why did it matter what he did with his personal life outside of work and the friend group? He didn’t like to date around, he liked relationships. Besides, he wasn’t afraid of girls either. That one was starting to piss him off, wither away at that self control that his mama swore he was born with too much of. Not that any of them needed to know that..so why then, did he feel like proving them all wrong?

He knew in the back of his drunk mind that his next choice of words was not a good one to make, and he had just dug himself into a terribly deep hole that would haunt him for the rest of his life (good god he would probably have to change placements if they ever fucking found out, or better yet, retire from the navy altogether). But Lord help him, he opened his mouth anyway and let the words out.

“I don’t think my girlfriend would like me seeing other people.” He says, taking a kind of sick pleasure in hearing Jake snort beer out of his nose as he sits up so quickly he falls off of the couch, his words catching the attention of his other friends too. “What?” He asks, looking around at all of their gaping faces. He regretted his lie immediately. “Is it so hard to picture me with a girlfriend? I am capable of getting one, you know.” A dig at Jake just for the fucking fun of it.

There was a long moment of silence before all of their voices were flooding his ears at once, questions coming from all directions. It was almost as if the news had shocked them sober.

What did I just do?

THE WEEK PREVIOUS-

Sunshine Y/L/N, was many things, a bitch, a whore, a liar, a psycho (all depending on which of her ex-boyfriends and family members you asked),..but a fool was not one of them. You were not foolish enough to let a man raise a hand to you and cower away and accept his apology because you thought you deserved it or because it would placate him. And so when the asshole you had been in the midst of arguing with because he swore to god that you were fucking the bouncer at work (you would never, you weren’t in to bald men who looked like broke versions of mr. clean) cocked his arm back and slapped you across the face so hard that blood splattered from your nose, you clenched a fist and let all hell break loose.

You had screamed, and screamed and screamed and had thrown anything that you could get hands on, drawing blood on his forehead as an empty flower vase shattered against the wall that she shared with her neighbor. “Look what you did, you crazy bitch!” He yelled, holding a hand to his forehead, offended that you had dared to retaliate against him.

You sucked in a deep breath, fists clenching. There was nothing you hated more than being called crazy. You were not crazy. You were not fucking crazy. “Get out.” You breathed, a surprisingly steady hand pointing towards the door that was being banged on from an outside source. The man looks at you as if you were a bull with three heads. “Are you deaf? I said get the fuck OUT!” You had bellowed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and dragging him to the door, it took all of three seconds to throw open the chain locking the door before tossing the sorry fucker out, straight into your neighbor, Bob, who had very obviously been banging on the door.

“Woah-” The tall, lanky man had said, catching the rat bastard who had been flung out at him. He pushes him off of him, noticing the blood on his face and looks at you, the blood streaming from your nose. “Are you okay?” He asks, his immediate thought on his neighbor as watched the guy storm off towards the stairwell at the end of the hallway.

You sniffed, jaw clinched as you nod, watching the jerkoff walk away before running back inside. Bob follows as you yank open the window in the living room before running back down a hallway, to the bedroom he assumed. Bob had looked around at the mess of glass and blood splatters on the floor, wondering what the fuck had taken pace. He had heard yelling, and glass shattering and had run over trying to open the door. “Mother fucker, DON’T YOU EVER COME BACK HERE!” You scream, tossing a heap of clothes out of the window and down onto the street, Bob heard a mans yell and knew they must’ve landed directly on the offending asshole. “Stupid fucking son of a fucking bitch.”

“Um, Sunny,” Bob says, placing a gentle hand on your slender shoulder. You were shaking, with fear or anger he isn’t sure but he wants to help. “Are you okay?” He doesn’t know what else to ask, what else to do. He’d never been in this kind of situation before.

He watches you raise a hand and use the back of it to wipe your bloody nose before turning around to face him, your friendly neighbor whose dog you often watched when he had to work overnights at the base or when he had been on his deployment for the uranium mission. Blood smeared across your upper lip and cheek as you look up at him, eyes watery and full of an emotion he couldn’t quite decipher. The smile on your face is terrifyingly sexy. “Just peachy, bobby,” You whispered, blinking the tears in your eyes away as you set your shoulders squarely. “My step-daddy didn’t raise no fucking bitch, a man like him wants to hit me, he better be prepared for me to hit him back ten times fucking harder.”

Bob didn’t know what to say, so he resulted for saying a simple okay and stayed around to help you clean up the mess that littered your normally spotless living room. He had even ordered you pizza while you were in the bathroom cleaning up your face, paying for it without telling you because he knew you would argue. He knew you made good money in your line of work, he knew you liked paying for your own things, but he was a gentleman nonetheless and wanted to take care of a neighbor who was clearly in some kind of need of support. He had stayed until you had fallen asleep, silently letting himself out of your apartment and the pair of you hadn’t crossed paths until a week later, granted, you hadn’t left your apartment much (you couldn’t very well go to work with a bruise on your face, it certainly wouldn’t bode well with your bosses nor with your customers) for your paths to have crossed to begin with.

You were surprised to say the least when a knock sounded on your apartment door early in the morning on Saturday, and even moreso when you opened to find none other than your adorable next door neighbor (and, in a way, your savior) standing in your doorframe, hands in the pockets of his jeans and a cute little crease in between his eyebrows as he looked up at you from where he was looking at his shoes. “Hey Bob, everything okay?” You ask, wiping the sweat away from your forehead. You had been doing an intense pilates session in your living room, a good way to keep you limber and fit for your job. “Are you going on deployment or something? Do you need me to take Cosie?”

“No, no..” Bob shakes his head, he felt stupid for coming over here, for not just immediately fessing up to his friends about his dumb lie. He should just turn around and go back to his apartment and call it a day, and he was going to until his fuckin’ phone buzzed in his pocket and he was reminded of why he had told the damn lie in the first place. “Um, actually, do you think I could come in? I have a favor to ask of you, and it’s..a big one.”

You were confused but allowed him to come in nonetheless, shutting and locking the door behind him as he did. What could he possibly need from you that wasn’t watching his dog while he was away? You couldn’t say you weren’t keen to find out, you were bored out of your mind and you couldn’t help but wonder what he needed from you of all people. Bob had literally seen you at your worst last week, and yet here he was inside of your apartment with his hands awkwardly shoved into the front pockets of his boot cut jeans, his pretty eyes flitting about, finding anything to look at that wasn’t your breasts that were pushed up in your slightly too small lulu lemon top.

“What’s up, Bobby?” You asked, headed to your kitchen that over looked the living room. You grabbed a bottle of water out of your slowly emptying fridge and twisted open the cap, taking a hefty sip.

“Um..” He says, his lips pursing as his eyebrows furrow together somehow even deeper. He blows air out of his nose and finally looks up at you, taking his hands out of his pockets only to place them on his hips, awkwardly. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” He says and you snort your water out of your nose on accident, choking on it at the first mention of the words as you tried to process them. “Oh fuck-”

TAGLIST-

@mamachasesmayhem

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #top gun maverick bob #lewis pullman

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years ago

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Dark Protector

AN: So I’ve been a bit quiet lately - writer's block got me in a chokehold, just when I’ve signed up to a load of challenges. However, I have managed to get this fic to fit three of them;

Into an Alternate Juni-verse - Square C2 - Bogeyman - @buckybarnesevents

3 words for Caplan - “Help me, please!” - First bolded text. @caplanbuckybarnes

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Square K1 -”That wasn’t nice” - Second bolded text @buckybarnesbingo

Beta’d by @indyluckycharlie - thank you so much!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard by me.

Masterlist | Juni-verse Masterlist | BBB 2023 Masterlist

Summary: He’s always been there when you needed him the most; your Dark Protector. Anyone else would be afraid of him, but not you. You’re in love with the monster under the bed.

Relationship: Bogeyman Bucky Barnes x Reader

WC: 6.2k

CW: Minor descriptions of physical assault of a minor, attempted sexual assault of a minor, forced to watch pornography, mild horror elements, death of a minor OC, alcohol consumption, attempted sexual assault of an adult, smut (unprotected PinV, slight use of tentacles, mild bondage) angst, soft!dark! (ish) Bucky.

You don’t remember how old you were when you first realised he existed. If you could even call him a ‘he’. Did the monsters under the bed have gender?

Your friends in elementary school were all scared of the ones in their rooms, but not you, and you didn’t know why.

You weren’t scared of the dark.

You weren’t scared of the creaks and groans of your home.

You weren’t scared of the gentle, but nameless, sound that emanated from under your bed.

Maybe it’s because you had something else to be scared of. Something tangible and real that didn’t just exist in the night, but existed in the day as well; your mom’s boyfriend.

Your dad left when you were very small and you didn’t have many memories of him; only the odd flash of a shadowy figure or a sound or a smell. You’d seen a few photographs, ones that your grandma had kept, knowing that one day you would be curious, but otherwise, the man was an enigma that your mother refused to talk about.

When you were eight she got a boyfriend - Darryl. He was tall, and lanky, with wonky teeth, greasy hair and a smoking habit. Even at that tender age you had no idea what your mom saw in him. He worked in construction, when he wasn’t being thrown off a job for being too lazy, or late, or just downright offensive to the other workers.

He got angry.

A lot.

He’d shout at your mom and slam doors, and if he saw you he’d try to kick you. If you accidentally disturbed him, which could be achieved just by breathing some days, he’d give you a smack around the head and scream at you until you were cowering in the corner.

Then the jobs started to dry up, so Darryl started to drink. And drink. You tried to find any excuse you could to be absent, doing your homework in the park on fine days and in the local library when it wasn’t, and if you had to be home, you’d tiptoe around in the hope he wouldn’t notice you.

Then, when you turned 11, it all, somehow, got worse. Darryl was starting to look at you. He’d leer and make comments that you didn’t fully understand, but knew weren’t right. He’d be nice to you, something that was totally abnormal, and it put you on edge. He’d slur and give you compliments, but only about the way you looked. Whenever you tried to talk to your mom about it, she’d duck her head, look embarrassed and try to convince you he was just being a good step-dad. You didn’t believe her.

You didn’t know who to talk to, so you talked to the monster under your bed. For some reason you decided he was called Bucky. It came to you in a flash of inspiration, seemingly from nowhere, but you knew from a change in the hisses and rumbles from beneath you that he approved.

Bucky was a good listener - you didn’t know if this was a trait common to all bogeymen or whether you happened to just get a good one, but you poured out your worries and fears, always feeling lighter by the time you fell asleep.

But for all that you felt lighter in the dark, that all went away in the light of day. Your mom got a new job, one that had her out of the house most evenings a week. Which meant it was just you and Darryl at home. Alone. It wasn’t long until it all came to a head.

You were channel surfing when he came and sat down next to you. His skinny thigh was pressed up against your own, too close, and you repressed a shudder. The smell of stale tobacco and cheap beer assaulted your nostrils, making you want to gag. His arm was slung over the back of the couch and although his hand wasn’t touching you, you knew his fingers were too close to your shoulder for your own comfort.

“I’ve got something we can watch together.”

He leered at you and plucked the remote from your fingers and apprehension prickled up your spine. With a few taps of his long, yellow-stained fingers, the channel changed and you couldn’t help but look up when you heard the strange noises - pants and grunts and moans - coming from the screen.

You gasped in horror. There was a naked man and a naked woman on the screen. He was holding her down and her face was contorted in some expression you didn’t recognise, and he seemed to be hurting her, stabbing into her privates with his thingy.

You shot off the couch, barely hearing Darryl’s dark chuckle as you ran to your room, and threw the door shut. You virtually launched yourself onto your bed, and clutched your stuffed bear, Mr Snoops, to your chest. The images from the screen ran through your head, making bile rise in your throat. Why had Darryl shown you that? You didn’t understand.

You didn’t know how much time passed while you tried to work things through in your head, but the sun had set outside, and the streetlamps threw shadows across your room.

Suddenly, your door opened, banging off the wall behind it. Darryl stood there, outlined in the light from the living room. He rarely came into your room, knowing that despite his recent change in attention to you, it was still off-limits to him.

“Why’re you hiding in here, girly? I thought you might like the film I showed you.”

You curled up smaller, alarm bells ringing in your brain.

“He was hurting her.”

He chuckled, the sound just as dark and ominous as earlier on.

“Nah, he weren’t. She was liking it. Most girls do.”

He stepped closer and a waft of fresh whisky swirled around him.

“Bet you would, too. You’re getting real pretty now. Bet you thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did.”

You tried to back up, but the hard wall at your back stopped you. You didn’t quite know what he was talking about, but you knew enough to be scared. You were aware of an ominous rumble and hissing coming from under your bed, and a flicker of a dark, tentacle-like shapes in the corner of your vision.

A jingling noise brought your attention back to Darryl. He’d undone his belt and was working on his pants fly. There was a strange bulge in the fabric and you screwed your eyes shut.

“So you just lie back, and let me do this and it can be our secret, eh, girly? Might not be too nice this time, that’s the way of things, but I promise you’ll come to love it, just like that broad in the movie.”

You didn’t want him to stab you with his ‘thingy’. You didn’t care what he said - it looked painful, and your privates were your privates. The sounds from Bucky got louder and louder to your ears, despite the fact that Darryl seemed oblivious to them. It was as though your dearest monster was waiting for something.

When you felt your flimsy mattress dip under Darryl’s weight you let out a whispered plea into the darkness.

“Help me, please!”

The smells of tobacco and alcohol were hot on your face, and you felt tears start to roll down your cheeks, when in an instant it was all whisked away.

Then, Darryl screamed and your eyes shot open. His weedy form was hanging in the air, dark tentacles of shadow surrounding him, wrapping up and down each limb. He was struggling, but the shadowy limbs seemed to be tightening and drawing him downwards and back towards your bed, heedless of the garbled sounds of distress coming from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut again, holding Mr Snoops so tight you thought his head might pop off, and tried to put the sounds of breaking bones out of your mind. Your bed started to shake, the shrieks loud in your ears and then there was silence.

Well, almost.

There was a new sound coming from beneath you, a satisfied purring noise, almost like that of your best friend Maisie’s cat.

Opening one eye, you surveyed your room. Light still spilt in from both the hallway and the streetlights outside, and they showed that your room was empty.

No Darryl.

Carefully you got up, and padding to your door, you peeked around the frame. You couldn’t see him or hear him. Feeling a bit braver you scurried across to the living room. The only evidence of your mom’s boyfriend was the empty beer bottles and cigarette butts in the ashtray.

You returned to your room, and settled gingerly on your bed, before leaning down and looking under it. Darkness and shadows looked back, but you felt a wave of smugness emanating from the depths.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

You went to sleep, once again, with lightness in your heart.

The next few days you had to comfort your mom as she ranted and raved about Darryl abandoning the pair of you, pretending to be sad, but smiling inside. Bucky wasn’t an imaginary friend. He was real, and he had protected you when you’d needed him most.

Life moved on, and your mom got over Darryl’s disappearance. You were glad, because after the initial heartache, she became a much happier person. Yes, her job still sucked, but she didn’t have to support a deadbeat boyfriend on the meagre wages, and she didn’t have to worry about being shouted or screamed at.

No-one else in town missed him either, most shrugging their shoulders and assuming he’d done a midnight flit. You were the only one who knew different.

Your confidence grew. You weren’t scared anymore, because you had Bucky to keep you safe in your home.

As you reached your mid-teens you realised what it was that you’d been shown on the Tv screen that night, and any residual guilt you’d felt at Darryl’s demise evaporated with the full understanding of his intentions

“Thank you for saving me, Bucky. I’m so glad I have you.”

He hissed in pleasure and his tentacles appeared in the corner of your eye, evaporating quickly when you turned to try and look at him.

“I wish I could see you though.”

The hisses changed to rumbles, as though he was placating you, before bursting into his purring sound and soothing you to sleep.

Despite Bucky’s lack of normal ‘language’ you’d learnt to understand him. When you bought your first boyfriend home, a jock named Jack, and went to your room for a make-out session, you could almost feel the waves of disapproval coming from Bucky. He obviously wasn’t happy. When you opened your eyes a crack, part way through having Jack’s tongue down your throat, you saw the shadows shifting. In a panic about what might happen, you called your ‘date’ to an abrupt end, much to Jack’s annoyance, citing an upset stomach.

He broke up with you two days later, telling his buddies that you were ‘a frigid bitch’. Three weeks after that a girl in your class was found bloodied, bruised and assaulted at the far end of town. The police questioned her in the hospital but she feigned ignorance about what had happened to her, but the school grapevine had it that she’d last been seen on a date with Jack. You told Bucky about it, and the rumbles that emanated from him seemed to say “I told you he was no good.”

Your thoughts about Bucky’s intentions to protect you from harm were further clarified with your next boyfriend, Clint. He was a sweet, accident-prone young man, whose jokes often fell flat, but he was earnest in his adoration of you. It was with some trepidation that you invited him to your room, but although you heard a sad hiss from Bucky when you and Clint started to kiss, there were no ominous smoky tentacles in your peripheral vision and no angry grumbles. Still, you decided not to go ‘all the way’ at your house.

Eighteen came, and with it a new chapter of your life - college. You’d scored a combination of grants and scholarships to enable you to study English Literature. A big step forward, for sure, but also a big change. You told Bucky all about it. He was uncharacteristically silent about it all, as if contemplating what it would mean.

It was only as you were unpacking in your small dorm room, laying your favourite blanket over your bed that realisation struck.

Bucky was at home, under your childhood bed.

The thought made you freeze where you were, a feeling of grief and loneliness filling your chest as you considered going through this period of your life without your closest confidant.

However, Bucky surprised you again. As you settled into bed that night, your eyes drifting shut after an exhausting day, you heard it. A rumbling purr. Your eyes shot open, and there, in the edge of your vision were those familiar flickers and a smile of joy appeared on your face.

“How did you get here, Bucky? Did you sneak in with my belongings? Or can you just pop up under any bed you choose?”

He didn’t respond with words – not that you expected any – but he did let out a sound akin to a chuckle, making you giggle in return. Once again you wished you could see him and make this friendship feel more real, at least to you. You hoped you felt real to him. You voiced your thoughts to him, but once again his response was vague, but with an undercurrent of sadness.

His presence buoyed you, and you threw yourself into college life. You worked hard, and you played… tentatively. Yes, you went to parties, and you went on dates, but your past still reminded you that men were to be distrusted more often than not. You often joked with Bucky that it would be easier if you were attracted to women. He chuckled back.

When you did have dates you always made sure to bring them to your dorm at least once, for what you had termed the ‘Bucky’ test. It was as though your tame bogeyman could intuit the intentions of men. If he hissed and writhed, you knew the guy was no good. If Bucky merely sulked like some kind of ousted puppy then you knew the guy was decent. But for all the decent ones you met, none of them seemed to tick all your boxes. You didn’t worry though - you were young and still had plenty of time to find ‘the one’.

You graduated with honours, causing your mom to shed a tear at your graduation ceremony, and you didn’t even need to discuss with her that you weren’t going to move back home. You’d managed to leave your little Podunk town behind, something she’d never been able to do, and she was happy for you.

When a well known publishing company offered you an internship you grabbed the opportunity with both hands. It was nothing glamorous – mainly taking notes, collecting coffee and getting up close and personal with the copy machine, but it was better than nothing.

However, one thing you weren’t looking forward to was the commute from your dingy apartment, especially in the winter months. You should have known that Bucky would find a way to reassure you.

It was like a strange prickle down your spine when you first felt it, as though you were being watched. You whipped your head around in all directions, trying to work out where the sensation was coming from, but then you saw him, or rather, as much as you’d ever seen of him. The mix of smoke and shadows, just out of your eye line, made you immediately relax. It was amazing that your protector had found a way to watch over you, even outside of the confines of your bedroom. You weren’t sure how he did it, but you knew it was his presence that kept others away.

You were so used to him by now, used to his friendly noises and movements, that you’d almost forgotten how dangerous he could be to those who threatened you. The memories of what had happened to Darryl had dimmed over the intervening decade, and sometimes you wondered if you’d imagined the whole thing.

You were out with friends from work for a drink, celebrating your birthday, when it happened. A group of you had set off straight from the office on Friday late afternoon when you all collectively agreed you were done for the day. Semicolons and em dashes could take a hike!

You all congregated at your local watering hole - a bougie little bar close to the office. You’d changed your skirt in the office washroom before heading out, and slicked on a bit more makeup, for that party feel. The atmosphere was buzzing, and after a glass and half of white wine, so were you. You and some of the other girls were dancing next to the old-style jukebox, while the guys perched on the high stools around the table you’d all claimed, sipping on beer bottles and shooting the shit.

“John likes you, you know.”

You whipped you heard around as Katie whisper-shouted in your ear to be heard over the music.

“What?”

“Walker. He likes you. If his obvious staring every time you walked past his desk wasn’t enough of a give away, he told Lemar, who let it slip to Kendra, who told me.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks and you turned your head to peek at John from under your lashes. The guy was tall, blonde and confident, one of the senior editors at the company. Lots of the girls fantasised about going home with him, wondering if he was as ‘apple pie’ as he looked, or whether he had some hidden ‘spiciness’. You never thought he’d look at you though. He could have his pick of any person he wanted.

“Me?” Your voice was a squeak and Katie giggled.

“Yes, you, you silly goose. I don’t know why you find it hard to believe? Have you seen you? You’re so cute and sweet, and that smile of yours, honey.”

You batted at her playfully, feeling embarrassed by her friendly observations.

“Shush, you.”

She laughed, and kept dancing.

Another wine glass appeared, and then a fourth. For some people it would be nothing, but you weren’t used to drinking, and you hadn’t eaten, so by the time that Katie and the others were saying their good-byes, you were very drunk.

Grabbing your bag and coat, you teetered towards the exit, but despite your concentration, your heel still skidded on something and your foot flew out from under you. However, before you hit the floor, a strong pair of hands grasped onto your upper arms from behind, and you were pulled against a firm chest.

Dazed, and with slightly unfocused eyes, you looked up over your shoulder into the smiling, sea blue eyes of John Walker.

“Hey, watch your step, sweetheart, you coulda got hurt there.”

You should’ve said something classy and sophisticated, but your alcohol-addled brain didn’t want to cooperate. You blinked owlishly before your lips started working on their own.

“I almost fell. You saved me.”

To his credit, only a small chuckle made its way past his lips.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

John linked his arm into yours and led you out of the bar. The cold air hitting your face made you dizzy and you gripped his arm with your free hand, praying for the world to stop spinning. Before you knew it he was steering you into a cab. When he prompted you, you gave the driver your address and then sank back into the seats, eyes closed. You could feel John’s hand gently holding yours, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles and you tamped down a giggle. You were also trying to ignore the annoying buzzing that you could hear. Or was it a hiss?

When the cab arrived at your apartment block, you threw John a dopey smile as he helped you out.

“Where are your keys, sweetheart? I think you need to go to bed.”

You hiccuped and rifled around in your bag, swaying on your feet as you pulled out the bunch with a shout of triumph. John plucked them from your fingers and opened the door, ushering you through. Kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you made your way to the couch, and flopped down into a lazy slouch.

John chuckled again. Closing your front door, he came and sat next to you. As he took hold of your hand, enclosing it in both of his, you looked at him through one eye.

“Thank you for getting me home. I think I’m a bit drunk….” WIth your free hand you brought your thumb and forefinger together, leaving a small gap between them, to make your point and you giggled at your own hilarity.

“You’re cute.” He leaned forward, almost covering your body and dropped a kiss to your lips, taking you by surprise.

“Oh! Umm… that was unexpected.”

A strange smile appeared on John’s face.

“I don’t know why, sweet-thing. I know you like me and I like you.”

He kissed you again, but this time with more enthusiasm. Your arms were trapped against your chest between your two bodies, your head was swimming and your blood was pounding in your ears.

No, that wasn’t right.

It wasn’t a pounding noise, but more like an angry rumble crossed with hissing.

Hissing.

Bucky.

John!

John who was kissing you, despite the fact that you were drunk and hadn’t been flirting with him or anything.

You pushed against him with your hands, but it was totally ineffectual, so you tore your mouth away from his.

“John, stop. Please.”

He cocked his head to the side.

“Hey, don’t be like that. I thought we liked each other, and haven’t I been nice to you this evening?

His hands gripped your upper arms, cruelly, as he ducked back down again, his lips sucking at your neck, his teeth scraping your flesh, and in your ears the hissing grew louder.

“I’ll treat you right, sweetheart.”

You wiggled your body, trying to get free, eyes going wide at the feeling of John’s erection pressing into your stomach through his jeans.

“No. No! I don’t want this. You need to go.”

You managed to turn your head and bit down on the top of his ear, making him shout out and jump back to his feet, clutching his hand up to the side of his head.

“You fucking bitch!”

His face turned red and he took a step back towards you, anger and aggression easy to see in his expression as he loomed over your semi-prone form.. However, as he reached for you again, oily dark tentacles shot out from under your couch, coiling around him and lifting him into the air.

For a few moments you only felt relief, as once again Bucky came to save you when you needed him most, but the relief quickly faded when you remembered what your dearest monster was capable of.

You tried to stand, but your legs were too wobbly and you sank to the floor instead, some of Bucky’s shadow limbs ghosting over your legs. You tried to grab hold of them, but your fingers went right through.

“Bucky! Stop! Let him go!”

You had to shout to hear yourself over John’s screaming, but loudest of all was Bucky’s growl of disagreement. You had to try again.

“Please! He’s not like Darryl. People will notice if he disappears.”

You moved onto your hands and knees, crawling closer to where John was dangling and writhing in pain. Bucky’s limbs were more solid-looking here and you reached out tentatively and stroked down one. It rippled, reacting to your touch.

“Please.” This time you whispered your plea, and you touched him again, almost distracted from your goal by the sudden realisation that you were finally getting to touch your constant companion. There was a change to his growl, as if it were coming closer to you. Confused, you looked around and saw more of him sliding out from under the couch until it seemed that he’d completely left his cover. The mass of inky smoke started to coalesce in front of you, and as you watched in awe as it took on a different shape from the one you’d always known, one that appeared to get more and more human shaped by the second. Well, human shaped with some tentacles coming out of it’s back like some kind of Lovecraftian monster.

Bucky’s back was to you. All you could really make out was that he had black hair that brushed his broad shoulders. He walked forward, a little ungainly as though trying to work out how to balance on two legs. John was still struggling up in the air, held tight by the tentacles Bucky held out in front of himself, and was moving backwards as Bucky moved forwards, moving your would-be assailant across the room and away from you.

As if he wasn’t used to having hands - and you supposed he wasn’t - another tentacle shot out of Bucky’s back and wrapped around the handle for your front door. The others shook the almost hysterical man.

“Thhhat wasssssn’t nicccccccce.”

It was strange to hear him speak as you did, although it was clear it was something new for him, given the hissing sounds making up his speech. However, before you could really contemplate it, he was opening your door and hurling John out into the hallway. You tried to push yourself up to see if he was okay, but you were held back by Bucky’s otherworldly limbs.

You heard John scramble up and run towards the stairs whimpering and you let out a sigh of relief. You then turned your head and looked up into Bucky's terrifyingly beautiful face with eyes like ice chips and he pulled you closer. You were about to ask him the first of a million questions when he brought up a tentacle to cover your lips.

“Ssssssleep, liiiiittle one. Ssssssleep.”

And you did.

You awoke with a start, sitting up on your bed with your hand over your wildly beating heart. You were still in your going out clothes, but your head was pounding and your memories blurry. You didn’t recall staggering to your bed, but the clock said that a few hours had passed since you left the bar, and…

The memories hit at once. Whipping your head around you looked across your room to the easy chair, and there he sat.

Bucky.

A human looking Bucky. The tentacles were gone now. He looked almost normal.

For a moment there was silence hanging between you both, and you took him all in. Those bright eyes, ringed with black, like he was trying to camouflage himself, the dark hair flying loose around his shoulders, and his black clothes that made him look like some kind of Special Ops person straight out of your favourite TV show. His expression was unreadable.

“Bucky?” You held out your hand toward him, still not quite believing your eyes.

He moved towards you, as swift and silent as the shadows he normally took the form of.

“Yesssss, liiittle one. I am here.” The mattress dipped under his weight as he perched next to you. His two, larger hands enclosed the one you’d offered him. “I protect you?”

He tilted his head to the side, as if seeking your approval, and with your free hand you cupped his cheek. Your heart swelled when he pressed his face into your palm.

“Yes, you protected me. Like you always have. Thank you.”

You leant forward and pressed your forehead against his, smiling to yourself as you heard him begin to purr, that familiar noise that had always made you feel safe.

“How are you here?” Your hand inched up to tangle in his hair, needing to feel more of him, the rough and the smooth. “How are you like this?”

“Becaussse you wissshed it. And I wisssshed it. My liiittle one. Alwaysss my liiittle one.”

And you knew it then, deep within yourself, that everything that had happened in your life from the moment you were first aware of his existence, had been leading you both to this point.

“It’s always been you, hasn’t it? Who I’ve been waiting for?” Both of you shifted slightly, your noses brushing against each other, your breath mingling.

“Been waiting. Human livesss are confusssing.” He moved one of his hands to rest on your waist, drawing your bodies that much closer together.

“Neither of us has to wait any longer. My Bucky. My protector.” You sighed into his mouth as your lips came together for the first time.

It was soft to start, both of you gauging the other, a small part of you wondering what you were doing and also wondering how old Bucky actually was. Did it matter though? There was something between the two of you, always had been. A meeting of souls.

Desire flared quickly, and you surprised yourself by taking the initiative, practically crawling across the last remaining space between you to straddle his lap. You had his hair in both fists now, kissing him like you needed him to breathe, grinding down on his lap as the heat in your core threatened to overwhelm you.

Bucky moaned into your mouth, nipping at your lips, and then tangling his tongue with yours. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your top, up your skirt, caressing your face. That’s when you realised. It wasn’t just his hands - those were on your face. You were being touched everywhere else by his tentacles, the parts of him with which you were most familiar.

You looked down to find he was now naked, his human skin pale and juxtaposed to the darkness of his other limbs that were sprouting from his back and surrounding you. You reached down and pulled your top off over your head and you felt Bucky’s entire body rumble from the growl he let out. A thrill ran through you at the vocal sign of his need. Although you hadn’t been able to get a proper look at him, blocked by your own body, you could feel his human arousal pressing into your core through your panties.

“Help me get naked, Bucky. I don’t want anything between us.”

His response was to kiss you passionately again and you were heedless of the ruination of your clothes as he ripped them from you. Your hands roamed his upper body, and while part of you wanted to take you time, and learn everything about him, your desperation was winning. You just needed him. Now!

When his tentacles brushed across your breasts, you tore your lips from his to throw your head back in ecstasy. His human hands held onto the swell of your ass, helping you grind down on his length, covering him in your arousal. This time when you peeked down you could see the tip of his cock poking out from between the folds of your pussy and you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Now, Bucky. Please. I need you. I need you to fuck me!”

“Yessss!”

He grinned at you, almost playful, almost innocent, but then he was tipping you onto your back and caging you to the mattress with his body, tentacles arcing out of him and cutting most of the light. His eyes narrowed, predatorily, before two of his limbs gently snaked down to clasp your wrists, drawing your arms above your head. You didn’t resist - you wanted it, wanted him to claim you, finally.

His hands and tentacles moved your legs up, bending them at the knees so you were open and bared before him. You could see his cock, heavy and thick between his legs, waiting to be engulfed by your warm heat and you shifted your hips in need.

“Please! Don’t make me beg. Please, don’t make me….” Your whispered words were cut off by a scream of pleasure as he thrust into you. He was so big, and you felt so full. It was heaven.

Then, before you could even plead with him further he started to move with long gentle strokes, slowly making way for more and more of him, until his hips were flush with your thighs and your restrained hands were scrabbling at the pillow under your head as you just felt everything.

“My perrrfffect liiiiittle one.”

His cock seemed to be moulded to perfectly fit you, the bulbous head of it rubbing that sweet spot just right. One of his shadowy appendages slipped between you, rubbing across your engorged clit and pleasure jolted through you.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum! Bucky! I’m gonna cum!”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body convulsed under his erotic onslaught. Every nerve ending felt over sensitive as Bucky used the non-human parts of his body to touch you everywhere he could. Tentacles slid through your slick folds either side of his cock as he continued to fuck you, harder and harder. Others stroked your face, your breasts, your legs and you’d never felt so alive. It felt as though you’d barely come down from your high before you felt another approaching.

Bucky held himself over you, on his arms, his hair falling around his face like a shroud. He continued to kiss and nibble at your mouth and jaw and neck. He seemed almost incapable of human speech now, just letting out pleasured hisses and purrs as he sank over and over into your wet heat. Your walls clutched at him, like they never wanted to let him go.

“Bucky. Gonna cum again. Want you to cum with me. I want to feel you.”

He nodded against your neck, before sucking on the delicate flesh, marking it. He tilted your hips, somehow plunging deeper into your pussy, and continued to caress you everywhere he could.

You wiggled your hands, desperate now to touch him, and as if he could read your mind, your shadowy bonds receded, allowing your arms to move to his shoulder, your fingers curling so that your nails could dig at his back.

Bucky lifted his head then, his startling blue eyes boring into yours before he smashed his lips against yours one more time, his hips stuttering. You swallowed his screech of ecstasy before responding in kind with your own as you felt him pulse inside you, flooding you with the warmth of his cum. You spasmed around him, the sensation sending you into a state of euphoria, as wave after wave crashed over you.

When you returned to the world, you were laying on your side, your head on Bucky’s chest as he purred and stroked up and down your spine. You lifted your head and smiled at him, heart soaring as he smiled back.

“I still can’t believe this is real. How am I not dreaming?”

“I knew that I would beeee able to beeecome human for you at the riiight tiiime. I wassss told it would happen.”

You cocked your head at him.

“Someone told you it could happen? Who? That means it has happened before?”

He dropped a kiss on your forehead with an enigmatic smile, before looking out of the window. The sun was rising on a new day, and where it was shining in through the crack in your curtains, a shaft of light fell across the bed. Right over Bucky’s leg, which appeared to have partially disappeared.

You furrowed your brow in confusion and slight panic.

“What’s happening? Where is your leg?”

“Don’t worry. I will be back with the ssshhadowsss, liiiittle one.”

You looked on in horror as more and more of him seemed to dissolve as the light spread and increased.

“Bucky!”

No, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t be leaving you now!

“Alwaysss in the ssshhadowsss. Alwaysss protecting you.”

Your hands were passing straight through his body, only his head and a few wispy tentacles remained.

“Like your father protectsss your mother. He told meee.”

You froze, unsure what to say. Your father? The shadowy man in the old photos?

Realisation hit you and your eyes went wide, seeking Bucky’s only to realise they were the last part of him remaining, before they too disappeared.

You sat in stunned silence, naked on your dishevelled bed and tried to make sense of the - not one, but two - life-altering things that had happened. Not only had your non-corporeal companion become flesh and blood, albeit temporarily, he’d also implied that your father was the same type of being.

All you could do was await the coming of the shadows and his return.

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