mymoonagedaydream
mymoonagedaydream
just some more fanfiction
requests open // taglist // ao3 // wattpad
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mymoonagedaydream · a day ago
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Ladykiller Update
Alright lads, this message is for any fans of my Ladykiller series.
Basically, I’m in the process of doing a little rewrite to put up on Wattpad. I’m definitely not abandoning Tumblr, I’ve just been wanting to do more with the series and figured reposting it all over again on the same blog would be a bit annoying.
I’ve expanded on it a bit, so the chapters are longer now, but I’ve also altered a couple things to make it a bit of a different reading experience- mainly the narrator’s voice and some of the character names, but a couple plot points might be tweaked too. 
For this new version I also commissioned some artwork from the incredible Elle at @chickenpaperco which I shall post below, please check her out she’s so lovely and so talented. 
So yeah, if you fancy a read, here's the link: Ladykiller
But if you’d prefer to preserve the series in your mind how it’s written on this blog then no problem at all :)
Much love my lovelies
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 days ago
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Rehab (Part 2)
Summary: You must’ve been insane, willingly throwing yourself into yet more torture for a guy you’d said four words to.
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Language
Author’s Note: Thank y’all for the lovely feedback on the first part :)
Part 1
---
The weather was suitably miserable as you trudged off the bus and headed towards the Casual Chat and Coffee Morning, cursing yourself for being so susceptible to brooding beefcakes clad in leather- a weakness that’d led you astray countless times before.
Ugh, he probably wouldn’t even show up.
You half-jogged through the streets in a futile attempt to avoid getting soaked, pissed that you were actively choosing this over staying in bed until midday, eating dry cereal straight from the box and crying at teen movies on Netflix- watching Lindsay Lohan prance about in god-awful early 2000′s outfits was all the therapy you needed.
Your wet shoes squeaked across the community centre’s linoleum floor as you slowly descended into the fifth circle of hell. 
The echoing of overly-enthusiastic voices down the hallway almost made you turn back, but after coming this far you were determined to at least show your face, even if the only thing you gained was some brownie points from your shrink.
Slogging through the door, you quickly scanned the room, but saw absolutely no sign of your target. 
He was obviously far more sane than you.
The temptation to swivel round and leave immediately had almost swayed you but, before you could escape, an elderly lady with a seemingly permanent sad expression caught your eye and waved you over to the beverage table. You had no choice but to hold your breath and jump in head-first.
It was a bad decision.
Marjorie talked at you for twenty minutes about her abandonment issues, stemming from a tabby cat that left to live with her neighbour. Lord have mercy.
Your will to live had reached a critically low level when you finally spotted James slip in through the door and sequester himself to the far corner, shooting threatening stares at anyone who dared to stray within chatting distance.
Usually, you tried your best not to judge a book by its cover, but you just couldn’t stop thinking that he didn’t look at all the type to be in therapy- guys you were attracted to usually preferred to drink and/or punch away their problems.
He must’ve been a fellow victim of the courts.
Marjorie shoved a biscoff towards your face and snapped you back to reality, at which point you realised that you'd been pretty blatantly staring at the poor boy ever since he arrived. It was probably time to scrape together as much subtlety as you could before he got too freaked out.
You spun around and began to pour yourself a coffee, inwardly cursing your blundering approach to expressing attraction, when a gruff voice piped up beside you.
‘What are you in for?’
You jumped out of your skin. 
In those few seconds James had somehow managed to approach you and plant himself a few inches away in complete silence.
The shock of finding him in such close proximity caused you to launch Marjorie’s biscoff into the air, which he managed to catch and place back in your hand without so much as a glance towards your face, then quickly reverting his attention to the cup of water he was pouring.
‘Uh, bereavement.’ You lied. You had no idea why you lied. He could obviously tell, that much was clear from his amused expression. ‘It... sucks. Y’know?’
‘Mhmm.’
You tried to gather as many working brain cells as you could to put together a few words that didn’t make you sound like a fucking idiot. ‘And yourself?’
‘Long story.’
‘Ah. Good long or boring long?’
As his eyes flicked in your direction you realised that, despite only being close to him for a few seconds, the woodsy scent of his cologne was already beginning to overpower that odour of stale cigarettes that usually lingered around you.
He smirked slightly, taking a gulp of water before turning his body in your direction. ‘Depends what kind of stories you like.’
‘Gory ones with lots of death.’
His face dropped, all the colour draining from it as his stare stayed fixed on you.
What a fucking idiot you were. That was obviously a fucking terrible joke to make at a fucking group therapy session, why couldn’t you just fucking think before opening your fucking face?
‘Shit, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes exasperatedly. ‘It's actually amazing how coherent I am, considering I live with my foot in my mouth.’
A dry chuckle escaped his lips. ‘It’s pretty impressive.’
‘You should see me at funerals, I'm a hoot.’
‘I'll bet.’ He pulled a leather glove off his right hand before reaching it towards you. ‘Bucky.’
‘Y/n. Pleasure.’
The feeling of his hand caught you off-guard a little. It was rough and weathered, far too rough for someone his age unless they’d spent the last twenty years working on a farm or an oil rig, which you doubted. You also couldn’t help thinking that he didn’t much look the type to introduce himself to strangers with a nickname. This guy was an increasingly complex puzzle...
Or maybe you were just terrible at reading people.
‘If everyone could find a seat, we’ll be starting in five minutes.’
The shrink’s announcement caused you and Bucky to shoot horrified glances at each other. He crumpled up his cup, tossing it in the trash can before pulling his glove back on.
‘I think I'm gonna dip.’
‘Oh, okay.’ You tried your best not to let disappointment leak into your words. ‘Can't say I blame you.’
He paused and to observe you, your best attempt at a polite, atmosphere-diffusing smile doing nothing to ward off the stare. After a few seconds, his eyes wandered towards the floor and his hand moved up to rub the back of his head- if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was a little nervous.
‘Is there, uh- any chance you wanna get a real drink somewhere?’
His voice had changed, almost to the point of sounding timid. It was profoundly strange hearing that come from such an intimidating host, you were worried that if you didn’t respond quickly he might ask you again in the voice of Elmo.
‘Yeah, that sounds great.’ Your answer was a little more enthusiastic than intended, so you did your best to compensate. ‘Well, I mean, better than sitting around listening to Marjorie go on about Gerald the adulterous cat.’
‘Who?’
‘Oh, she’s uh- it was- doesn’t matter.’
He nodded, very confused, and gestured for you to follow him to the door.
Fuck’s sake. Maybe one day you’d be able to prise that big ol’ foot out of your mouth, but apparently it wasn’t happening anytime soon.
Once you got out into the hallway, he stayed a few steps ahead of you, addressing you over his shoulder. 
‘I know a place we can go.’
‘S’fine with me.’ You replied, adding under your breath, ‘I just hope to god that story of yours doesn’t involve dangerous alcoholism.’
‘What?’
He stopped dead, spun round and began staring intently towards you again. It was difficult to hide your sudden panic, you were sure that you’d said that way too quietly for him to hear.
‘Oh, I just know that a couple people back there are pretty deep into the bottle.’ Your words were punctuated with nervous laughter. ‘Wouldn't want to ruin your AA streak, y'know?’
‘Appreciate the concern, think I'll be fine.’
‘That’s... great.’
Yikers.
Note to self, Bucky can hear everything.
---
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Join my taglist here
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 days ago
Omg “Ladykiller” made me wanna fall in love like that 🥺 it was so good!! If you ever write more for those two I wanna be tagged please! Heck I’d love to be tagged in anything you write for Seb/Bucky 😍
Thank you my love that's so kind of you 😊 ugh tell me about it can relate, if only real men acted like that eh 😅 there's a link in my bio for my taglist please do add yourself if you fancy I'd be v pleased, should have some more stuff coming out in the next few days 🥰
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mymoonagedaydream · 19 days ago
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Rehab (Part 1)
Summary: You weren’t exactly expecting court-mandated therapy to be a barrel of laughs, but the reality seemed to be much worse than you could have imagined.
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Language, hints to domestic abuse
Author’s Note: The bitch is back. Some shit life stuff has been going down recently but FATWS got me all inspired so here we are, couldn’t sit by and watch Bucky return without making a return myself. Sorry it’s not very long, I’m slowly easing myself back into it but watch this space lads. 
---
You could still smell it.
Even in this room, with all the doors and windows securely closed, you could still smell the stale cigarette smoke that clung to his fingers. 
You’d begun to worry that you might never be free of it. 
Towards the end it had became a harbinger of sorts, a warning signal, a budgie down the mine chirping for its life before choking and dropping to the bottom of its cage like a rock- if his hand was close enough for you to smell it, something unpleasant was coming next.
‘Y/n?’ The semi-stern voice dragged you out of your spiral. ‘Did I lose you for a second there?’
‘No I was, uh- just thinking about what to have for dinner.’
Her lips slowly pursed as a suspicious eyebrow shot up her forehead. You just huffed and shifted yourself around on the couch, waiting out the tense silence she’d intentionally manufactured in order to prompt you into a confession.
Oldest trick in the book, it wasn’t going to fucking wash.
She spoke again through a heavy sigh. ‘Y/n, you know what happens if these sessions aren’t productive. The court won’t look favourably on a blank report.’
Before experiencing it for yourself you’d never have guessed the extent to which therapy involves passive-aggressive coercion and veiled threats, you could’ve saved the bus fare and got the same amount of guilt and shame from an evening with your mother.
‘Define productive.’
‘Well, for one, you have to be honest with me.’
‘Awh, really? I can’t just make some shit up?’
Your smart-ass comment quickly turned to ash in your mouth as you were hit with the most severe stonewall you’d ever encountered, swiftly followed by a few more minutes of loaded silence.
Nine more weeks of this. You genuinely considered fleeing the country.
Your session mercifully ended ten minutes later but, naturally, you weren’t allowed your freedom without a final sprinkle of aggressive cajoling.
‘Y/n, before you go-’ she stopped you just before you managed to break contact with the couch, ‘are you aware that we also provide group sessions?’
A bolt of dread struck the top of your spine- surely there was no way she could force you to attend those after your sentence had already been passed? 
It was bad enough spending an hour of your week batting away her incessant questions, if were made to give up another hour to listen to some sad-sack weep over his mommy issues and resulting failed marriage then you were definitely booking a ticket on the next plane across the Atlantic.
You winced and slowly began to shake your head, gripping the fabric of the couch tight, dreading what she’d say next.
‘We of course offer your typical sit-in-a-circle-and-cry type meetings, but we’re also starting coffee mornings and cookery workshops. I think you’d benefit from them.’
She picked up a leaflet from the table beside her and strained to pass it over, pretending not to notice your obvious revulsion as you took it between two fingers and eyed the front cover.
‘Are you insured to have that many crazies in the same room?’
A smirk twitched in the corner of her mouth. ‘Barely.’
Regardless of insurance coverage, if the meetings weren’t compulsory you certainly wouldn’t be attending- it’d take nothing short of a miracle to change your mind on that.
You leapt to your feet just as the second hand ticked over twelve and, after giving your shrink a polite and slightly smug nod, made a beeline for the door. 
A whole week of sweet freedom was a mere few steps away when she called after you. ‘Could you tell James I’m ready for him?’
‘Mhmm.’
You didn’t even break stride, yanking the door open as soon as it was in reach but stopping dead before crossing the threshold into the waiting room. The slight wobble starting in your knees made walking any further quite a risk.
An intimidatingly stern but unreasonably attractive man was planted on the waiting room couch, staring stoically out of the window, apparently unaware of your presence. He was dressed a little strange for New York summer, you’d be absolutely sweltering in a leather jacket and matching gloves but the intense heat didn’t seem to be bothering him much.
As you took a brief few seconds to scan your eyes over him, you came to the conclusion that moving your sessions from mornings to afternoons was definitely a great idea, and not just because it meant you could sleep in until noon. 
You might even start to look forward to these things if you knew he’d be waiting outside every week.
‘She’s, uh-’ You opened with the most inelegant voice crack you could possibly have mustered, causing him to send an alarmed look in your direction. ‘She’s ready for you.’
He gave you a quick nod before calmly rising to his feet and slinking past you like a jaguar. A faint scent of bourbon and sandalwood was left in his wake, which only became stronger as you took a few small steps into the waiting room.
This was the first time in weeks that something had overpowered that lingering smell of stale cigarettes.
After hearing the door softly close behind you, your eyes danced down to the group therapy leaflet that was now slightly crushed in your sweaty palm, and you found yourself wondering whether she was plugging these group sessions to all her clients...
Maybe they were worth a shot.
---
Part 2
---
Permanent Taglist: @nnuree​ @tcc-gizmachine​ @emmabarnes​ @somewhatasoftbaddie @juenenfeu​ @ddowii​ @rebekahdawkins​ @x0xchristine​ @maevemarethyu​ @thechaoticargonaut @yayrainday​ @linkpk88​ @mcolbz14​ @indigo123789​ @verygraphicink​ @buckyfan12​​ @ene-rene @thenormreedus @bawsewoman @studies-4-ever @buckysalpine @babybluereads @marie1115 @thatslovelymoony @buckybarneshairpullingkink @old-enough-to-know-better73 @rottenstyx
Join my taglist here
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 25 days ago
Hey! No request just wanted to say I hope you are doing well as you haven’t been active in a while ❤️Your stories really helped me find some happiness during hard times x
Hi lovely 🥰 Thank you and everyone else who has reached out to me while I've been gone, I genuinely appreciate it so much. I'm all good, been having a bit of a rough time recently but nothing serious, I really hope to get back to writing soon I'm just struggling to commit to and finish any of my stories at the moment.  Hearing that my work makes anyone even the slightest bit happier means more to me than I can express, thank you so much for letting me know.  I hope to have something new for you all soon. Much love ❤️
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 months ago
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Glitch Masterlist
Summary: Most agents don’t survive their first encounter with the Winter Soldier, what the hell was so special about you?
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: Language
---
Part One / Part Two / Part Three
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 months ago
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Glitch (Part 3)
Summary: As pieces of The Winter Soldier slowly cracked and fell away, you got to witness the reconstruction of the man underneath.
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Language
Author’s Note: Last part, hope y’all enjoyed this mini-series :)
---
It felt a little strange sitting around the compound, twiddling your thumbs while Steve and Sam were out there, putting themselves in danger to try and find Bucky.
You’d begged Steve to let you go too, but he was pretty adamant that someone needed to stay close to Stark, to talk sense into him in case any significant developments transpired around the accords. 
Neither of you were convinced that’d be possible, but it’d be worth a shot.
Tony had left the room to take a call a minute or so ago. You were just about to hop up and chase after him when he marched back through the door, hastily stuffing his cell phone into his pocket.
‘That was Rhodes, they found Barnes. Apprehended him with Steve in Bucharest.’
Your heart dropped into your stomach. You knew SHIELD wanted Bucky dead.
Admittedly, in all your time working there you never got the impression they were big on capital punishment, but you really wouldn't put anything past them when it came to him.
‘So what next?’
‘They’re taking him to Berlin for evaluation.’ Stark headed for the elevator, gesturing for you to follow him. ‘We should get going.’
A relieved sigh escaped your lips, it sounded like he was safe for now.
By the time you arrived in Germany Bucky had long been locked in the secure containment unit, waiting to be assessed like some piece of faulty machinery, so you and Stark headed straight to meet with Steve.
The two of them debated the accords for a while but you zoned out, struggling to concentrate on anything other than the man locked up down there and what was going on inside his head. 
If the Winter Soldier was still in there then you were all in imminent danger, but if it was just Bucky, you hated to imagine how scared he must be. You just wanted to know which man were you dealing with.
Unfortunately, your question was answered much sooner than you anticipated.
Before you could even begin to compute what was happening, you found yourself sprinting behind Steve and Sam, racing to get to Bucky before he escaped the building and disappeared for good.
You split off from the two of them when you neared secure containment, sweeping the surrounding rooms for potential casualties.
It was unbelievable bad luck that you ended up running straight into his path.
Your eyes locked, both of you frozen, waiting for the other to make the first move. He tried to take a step towards you, but something stopped him before his foot hit the floor.
‘Do you know me?’ His eyes twitched slightly. ‘Bucky, you know me.’
You probably should’ve called for help, but for some reason you took a risk and decided to step closer, close enough that you could reach out and touch him. One wrong move and he could easily squeeze the life out of you, but something told you that wasn’t going to happen.
'I don't think you're going to hurt me.'
You slowly reached your hand out towards his flesh arm, observing his face intently as you did so. His skin was cold and clammy, it shuddered slightly under your fingertips, deep conflict spreading across his face as his eyes reluctantly fluttered closed.
Just as you were about to speak again, heavy footsteps clattered down the corridor towards you, immediately snapping him out of his trance.
He took a step back, turned on his heels and bolted in the opposite direction.
---
You, Steve and Sam had unbelievable difficulty getting Bucky out of there and into a somewhat safe location without being caught.
None of you had any idea who he’d be when he woke up, or what he’d try in order to escape, so there were no arguments when Steve decided to trap him in place with a steel girder. Seemed like an entirely sensible course of action.
You tried your best to make out their faint murmuring as you kept watch through a slim crack in the warehouse wall, every deep, gruff syllable from Bucky sending a hot tingle down your neck and along your spine.
Closing your eyes for a brief second, you remembered your first meeting with him, the sheer terror as you waited for your inevitable end and the strange relief you felt waking up in the car beside him. 
You just hoped like hell that it was finally time for you to get some answers.
‘Y/n?’ Snapped out of your fantasy by Steve’s voice, you quickly scurried over to where the three of them were waiting in silence. ‘Are you okay to stay here while me and Sam find a car?’
Your eyes quickly flicked towards Bucky, who was just staring at the ground, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Yeah, no problem.’
‘We won’t be long.’
Steve gave you a pat on the shoulder and a reassuring nod before following Sam out of the warehouse. Bucky remained completely still. Reluctant to disturb him, you silently made your way to the wall opposite and leant yourself against it.
It felt like you’d been standing there for hours, listening to the slow, tedious dripping of water through the roof, when he piped up.
‘I remember you.’ Your eyes snapped up to his face, he was still staring at the floor, fists tightly clenched together. ‘You give a mean two-foot kick, almost knocked my teeth out.’
An astonished chuckle escaped your lips. ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’
‘Don’t be. I would’ve done exactly the same.’
You were gobsmacked. This was the conversation you’d been waiting for for years now, and somehow you found yourself at a complete loss for words. 
Taking a deep breath, you collected yourself, and decided to start easy. 
‘Why am I still alive?’ He shifted slightly and quietly cleared his throat. ‘You know what I’m talking about. Taking me to hospital, stopping that car, pulling me and Steve from the river. Why?’
‘Steve’s my best friend.’
‘So what does that make me?’
He shook his head in exasperation and murmured under his breath, seemingly more to himself than to you. ‘I’d love to know.’
You watched him for a few seconds, watched how he kept adjusting himself like he was uncomfortable in his own skin, how he gripped his flesh fist so tight with his metal hand that it almost seemed as though he was trying to injure himself, how how he took a long, deep breath as if he was preparing himself for something.
Then, without any warning, his eyes finally met yours.
It felt like your heart had stopped. 
You couldn’t rationalise it but, for some reason, you really weren’t expecting him to look so much like the Winter Soldier. It was jarring, like you’d met two different people who had exactly the same face.
Almost the same face. 
This was a different set of eyes staring at you, eyes swimming with regret and fear, eyes that slowly danced over your body with a kind of feverish curiosity that set all of your nerve-endings on fire.
You swallowed thickly, your dry mouth and throat initially catching your words as you tried to break the heavy tension.
‘I owe you.’ Your voice cracked slightly under a heady mixture of nerves and excitement. ‘Thank you.’
A vague hint of a smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. ‘Anytime.’
‘Over here, guys!’
Steve’s voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife through butter, snapping you both clean out of your shared, hazy intensity.
Bucky stood up, his broad frame towering over you as he waited for you to walk first, eventually following you towards the car.
---
‘What the fuck happened to you guys?’
Both Sam and Bucky’s heads darted towards where you were standing, looking down at them on the floor of the airport, where they were all tied up with some kind of sticky substance.
‘Kid in a red suit, climbing on the walls.’ Sam sounded pretty defeated. ‘It all happened so fast.’
You chuckled to yourself as you made your way down to them, pulling out your pocket knife and quickly freeing Sam’s hands before turning your attention to Bucky.
You raised an eyebrow at him. ‘A kid?’
‘Well, yeah, but he fought like a mercenary.’
‘Oh, I’m sure.’
You gave him a mischievous grin as you helped him onto his feet. Forgetting yourselves a little, the two of you stood smiling at one another for a few seconds before Sam chipped in.
‘You guys good? We’re kind of on a time crunch here.’
Bucky looked over to him with a face like thunder. 
You did your best to diffuse, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder before leading the two of them back towards the action.
The lot of you fought like tigers to get Steve and Bucky to the jet, but you were the only one still with them when they finally reached the hangar. Now the only thing standing between the three of you and escape was Natasha.
She didn’t want to fight, you could see it in her eyes. She only hesitated for a second before relenting and letting you pass.
Bucky grabbed your hand but you resisted, pulling it from his grip, causing him spin back towards you.
‘I’ll stay with Nat, hold them off.’
He gave you a reluctant nod. ‘Try not to get yourself killed this time.’
You couldn’t explain what happened next, something just came over you. 
Diving towards him, you clasped his jaw in your hands and crashed your lips against his, relishing the feeling of his arms immediately wrapping tight around your waist and pulling you flush against him.
You almost got completely lost in him but, after a few seconds, you remembered where you were and quickly pulled away. 
‘Go get ‘em.’
You felt Nat’s gaze searing into the side of your head as you as you watched the two of them run towards the jet, only turning towards her once they were safely inside.
Her eyes were wide with shock. ‘Where the hell did that come from?’
‘Honestly, I have no idea.’
---
The first thing that hit you when you jumped off the jet in Wakanda was the overwhelming smell of fresh, clean air and the serene silence of your surroundings.
You could see why Bucky loved it here so much.
You were led towards a piece of vast grassland, where you spotted him straight away. He looked like a dishevelled, one-armed lumberjack, long hair falling across his face as he effortlessly tossed huge pieces of wood into a cart.
He didn’t seem to notice as you approached, so you called out to him.
'Finally pulling your weight, Barnes?'
His head snapped towards you, a wide, warm smile dawning in the corners of his mouth as he began strolling in your direction. You threw your arms around his neck and felt your stomach weaken slightly at the sensation of his strong arm wrapping around your waist.
'How are you Buck?'
'I’m good.' A slightly suspicious eyebrow darted up your forehead. 'Really, I’m good.'
You gently tapped the side of his head with your finger. 'So it’s just you in there now?'
'Mhmm. He's gone.'
'Shame, I’ll miss him.'
'Shut up.'
You mirrored his wide grin before he leant down towards you, the thick bristles of his beard tickling your chin as his lips pressed softly against yours.
You’d never say this to his face, but you were only half-joking about missing the Winter Soldier. Bucky always liked to think of him as a separate person, someone else who was living inside his head for all that time, but you knew it had to be a little more complicated than that.
After all, he’d saved your life. There must’ve been something human in him.
---
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Story Taglist: @bestofbucky
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 months ago
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Glitch (Part 2)
Summary: You assumed that the chances of you ever encountering the Winter Soldier again were less than one in a million
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Language
Author’s Note: Bit of a shorter one, been unusually busy lately but will hopefully be back on the writing grind soon
---
Three years later
The last few days had completely turned your world upside down.
SHIELD was compromised and Fury was gone, you felt as though the foundations of your life had been ripped out from underneath you. 
Plagued by uncontrollable anger and with nothing left to lose, you decided to fight alongside Steve without so much as second thought. Hydra had spread through your organisation like a cancer and there was no way in hell you were just gonna sit back and let it happen.
That’s how you found yourself in the backseat of a cramped car, squashed between Nat and fucking Sitwell. They were both engrossed in animated conversation with Steve and Sam, but you’d tuned them all out a while back. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Then everything changed.
Sitwell was wrenched through the window beside you, Steve slammed on the brakes and a heavy body tumbled over the bonnet, landing in the middle of the road. 
The sight of him made your heart stop, an inexplicable mixture of excitement and terror churning in your stomach.
You'd never told anyone about your previous encounter with the Winter Soldier. You’d never been able to make sense of it in your own head, never mind air it out for everyone else to analyse.
You hoped that now you might finally going to get some answers, but realistically you knew he'd probably just come back to finish what he'd started.
A second later, he was back above you, and the steering wheel had been torn clean out of the windscreen.
The four of you scattered. Nat pretty easily fell into the role of keeping your metal friend busy, while Steve and Sam were efficiently dealing with the other Hydra agents, so you took it upon yourself to clear out as many civilians as possible.
The public had this really irritating habit of always trying to move closer to the action, for some reason wanting to get a better view of the big, fuck-off guns randomly firing in every direction.
It was almost as if they relished being in the middle of an active warzone.
After emptying out the last busload of gawkers, you sprinted back towards the bridge, arriving just in time to see Tin Man lift Nat clean off the ground and hurl her straight into the side of a van.
Alright, maybe he had saved your life, but you certainly weren’t going to stand for that shit. 
This meant fucking war.
Keeping your footsteps silent and staying out of his line of vision, you carefully approached your target, somehow managing to take him by surprise and knock him face-first into the ground. 
By the time he rolled onto his back, you were standing astride him with your pistol aimed dead between his eyes.
‘Remember me, asshole?’
You thought you saw a glimmer of something in his eyes, some kind of vague recognition, but it was so fleeting that you couldn’t be sure you hadn’t imagined it. 
Even so, apparently it was more than enough to distract you from the rather pressing situation you were in.
He grabbed your wrist, knocking the gun from your hand and yanking you to the floor beside him. The two of you struggled against each other for a few seconds before he managed to straddle you and pin both your wrists to the ground.
‘You gonna finish the job this time?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ His eyes were locked with yours, words slightly muffled through his mask.
‘Bullshit.’
You hauled one of your legs up and drove it straight at his chest, knocking him backwards and giving you a brief opening to make a break for it. He was obviously far too strong to be bested hand-to-hand. 
You scrambled onto your feet but, in your panic, you ran straight into the path of a speeding SUV. Helplessly throwing your arms up in a feeble attempt to protect yourself, you squeezed your eyes closed and braced for impact. 
But the only thing that hit you was a roaring chorus of crumpling metal.
Then just silence.
You slowly let your eyelids flutter open. He was planted firmly in front of you, his back less than a few inches away from your chest, metal arm buried deep in the folded car wreck.
You were completely frozen, almost speechless in disbelief but just about able to push a single word out of your lips.
'Why?'
He didn't even turn to look at you before freeing his arm from wreckage and marching away. 
You knees started to shake and you eventually collapsed backwards onto the ground, all the time watching him gradually disappear into he distance, back into the chaos he’d created.
The rational part of your mind was sick with worry that maybe Hydra had some sinister, long-term plan for you, something that gave him incentive to keep you alive...
But every other part of you suspected that something else was going on.  
---
You gasped in a painful breath, choking on the water still sitting in your lungs.
The loud rumbling of the Potomac River filled your ears and, as your vision slowly cleared, you discovered that you were lying on the river bank.
Fragmented memories flooded back into your mind.
You remembered reaching the top of the helicarrier to find Steve in the fight of his life, and the bolt of fear that hit you when his attacker launched himself towards you, grabbed you by the throat and threw you against the glass.
But your clearest memory by far was the abject horror in Bucky’s eyes after you called him by his real name.
Steve had told you all about his best friend after the clash on the bridge, a conversation which had prompted you to finally confide in him about your previous encounter.
He was pleased, to say the least, at the thought that some part of his friend was still in there somewhere- even if it was just ‘the part that had an eye for the ladies’. He showed you some old photos of the two of them and talked your ear off all evening with stories of their childhood escapades.
Ever since, you’d been unwaveringly determined to help Steve bring his best friend back.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to figure out how the hell you’d ended up here. 
The last thing you remembered was plunging from the helicarrier, turning and catching a glimpse of Steve’s battered and bloody face-
Oh god, Steve.
‘Steve?’ Your voice was strained and croaky. ‘Steve!’
You spotted him on the bank a few metres away, lying eerily still. Quickly scrambling to your feet, you stumbled towards him, dropping to your knees beside him and rolling him onto his side.
With one mighty whack between his shoulder blades, he took a gargled breath and water gushed out of his throat.
‘What happened?’
You helped him sit up, straining under the immense weight of his torso. ‘I don't know, we should definitely be dead.’
‘Bucky.’ He muttered under his breath before lumbering to his feet and yelling. ‘Bucky!’
‘You think he…?’
‘He must’ve, how else could we get up here?’
You let yourself sink back onto your heels, eyes straying over the cold, untamed water rushing past you. Your stomach twisted and your mouth fell open.
Three times. He’d saved your life three times. He could’ve so easily walked away on any of those occasions and left you for dead.
But you were still here.
Why?
‘Come on.’ Steve held his hand out, helping you onto your feet. ‘We need to get you warmed up.’
---
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Story taglist: @bestofbucky
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 months ago
Alright- my binge of Ladykiller is complete. I think I smiled 99.9999987% of the time while reading it. I would very much pay to see this as a rom-com movie. Thanks for sharing with us!
You’re too sweet this really made my day, thank you my love. All we need is much money and some sarcastic ass actors and I’m right there with in the cinema with you. 
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 months ago
Currently reading Ladykiller and I’m cackling SO.HARD at the sneeze part in Part 2. My goodness, there are tears over here. 😂😂😂😂
Yeeeees I fucking love a good cackle!
Honestly hearing that my writing makes y'all laugh just warms my heart so much it's the absolute best 🥰
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mymoonagedaydream · 3 months ago
MA'AM I just read your Leather Jacket oneshot (lots of your oneshots, actually, but this one was a real cherry on top) and I am FANNING MYSELF! not me getting flustered over some fabulous writing ☺️ keep up the great work, I am in love!
Awh thank you so much my lovely, I really appreciate it 🥰 I should've added a 'have a fan handy' warning I do apologise, next time I'll include it I promise.
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
list some of ur favorite fics you’ve written
Ooh, interesting question anon. 
In terms of one-shots, I really enjoyed writing Stranger’s Kiss and I’m v pleased with how it turned out. I also really liked Leather Jacket- it was the main inspiration for Only the Good Die Young and writing that series was such a lovely experience.
In terms of series, as I said above I really enjoyed writing OTGDY, but Ladykiller is probably my favourite just cause it allowed me to really explore my full sarcastic asshole potential. 
Thanks for asking, this gave me a chance to look back over some of my old stuff and I had a really nice time doing it :)
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
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Glitch (Part 1)
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Summary: Most agents don’t survive their first encounter with the Winter Soldier, what the hell was so special about you?
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Language
Author’s Note: I elaborated on these requests a little but hey, that's artistic license for ya. It’s gonna be another mini-series, maybe two more parts.
---
The outpost was down.
An unholy amount of incredibly sensitive information was at risk of being captured by Hydra forces, not to mention all the advanced weaponry tucked away out there, and you’d never seen Fury so frantic to assemble some kind of counterattack.
Unlucky for you, at such short notice, there were barely a dozen agents available- and not a dozen of the best. Some of them weren’t even combat trained.
When you and this motley crew eventually rolled up to the outpost, it only took a few seconds for you to realise how piteously outnumbered you were.
Twelve rapidly declined into single figures and, before you knew it, you were up against an entire Hydra legion solo. Your only option was to run, but you weren’t naïve enough to believe they’d let you get away easily.
Diving from cover to cover, sprinting through a hail of bullets, you cursed Fury for sending you on this fucking suicide mission. You refused to believe that there was something in this goddamn shithole worth more than the lives of those twelve agents.
As you finally neared your vehicle, a sudden, sharp pain in your pelvis caused you to plummet down to your knees, waves of shock and agony shooting down all your limbs and making them limp. You just about managed to arduously drag yourself behind one of the rear wheels for cover.
Your pain only worsened when you assessed the injury. You could feel the bullet lodged deep in your hip, every movement was like torture.
Before you could begin attempting to haul yourself onto your feet, you spotted a broad, dark figure approaching, the light of the setting sun glinting off his metal arm.
You were frozen with fear, your eyes widening as your heart began to erratically thump. You’d heard stories of the Winter Soldier, but you’d hoped like hell that you’d never be unlucky enough to cross his path.
He rounded the car and stopped beside you, looming over your limp and helpless body, glazed eyes assessing you from behind wisps of sweat-drenched hair. His nose and mouth were covered by a dark mask, making it almost impossible to identify any trace of humanity in his face.
Your vision was starting to cloud at the edges, your breathing shallow and painful.
This was it.
You knew going into this job there was a chance it’d take your life, but you never imagined it’d happen like this- alone, shit-scared and in unbelievable agony.
You just hoped Fury would come up with a better story for your mom, something heroic, something that made you sound a little less like a sick dog being put down for its own good.
Letting your eyelids slowly flutter closed, you braced yourself for that final gunshot.
You were still waiting for it as you slipped unconscious.
---
The gentle rumbling of a car engine slowly tugged you out of your deep sleep.
Waves of dizziness and nausea crashed over you as your eyes crept open, bright sunlight stinging your retinas and making you wince.
You tried to bring your hands up to your face but found that you couldn’t. After your eyes had adjusted slightly to the glare, you glanced down to see them bound together and cable tied tight to the inside door handle.
A fierce panic started to set in.
You tried to yank them free, but the twisting motion of your body sent unbelievable pain shooting from your hip and made you collapse back into your seat with a sharp shriek.
Your head snapped towards your driver. It was him, the Winter Soldier.
‘Where are you taking me?’
He didn’t answer, didn’t react at all.
You scanned the horizon, trying to get any semblance of where you were or where you were heading, but it was just vast, empty desert as far as the eye could see.
Returning your gaze to your captor, you tried to calm yourself down and untangle some of your thoughts.
You could feel that your wound was bound. He must’ve done that, made the effort to keep you alive, but why? You scrabbled around for possible reasons, the only ones coming to your mind being information or conversion.
It took you less than a second to decide that you’d rather die than be a prisoner of Hydra.
Mustering all your remaining energy, you twisted your lower body, lifting your legs and driving both feet towards his head in one swift movement. You felt your heel connect with his jaw, slight hope rising in your chest when you heard the heavy thunk of his head against the window. It was definitely a hard enough hit to knock someone out.
The car jolted to a stop.
Immense pain shot through your torso as you were thrown towards the dashboard. Snapping your head towards the driver’s side, you saw a thick, silver arm stretch over the centre console and shoot towards your throat.
He pinned you down, grabbing both your feet in his other hand and forcing them back down into the foot well. Producing another cable tie from the back seat, he looped it around your ankles, securing them to the metal bar underneath your chair.
All the time you were struggling against him, doing all you could to resist.  
‘Khvatit borot'sya.’
You had no idea what that meant, but his harsh grip on your throat pretty effectively prevented you from responding, so all you could do was continue to thrash around underneath him.
He growled as he yanked his mask off. ‘Stop fighting.'
The venom in his words made you freeze, his face hovering just a few inches away from yours.
You desperately searched his eyes for any kind of emotion, anything human that you could latch onto and exploit, but there was nothing there. It was like staring into the eyes of a corpse.
You let yourself go limp, nodding in defeat.
With steady, mechanical movements, he released you, returned to his seat and restarted the car. You’d only just caught your breath when he piped up again.
'Are you in pain?'
'Yes.' Keeping his eyes on the road, he reached behind your chair, grabbing a bottle of painkillers and throwing them into your lap. 'Why are you doing this?'
'Take some.'
You jerked them into the foot well, gasping in pain as you did so but still determined not to cater to his whims. 'Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.'
His eyes flicked down to the bottle of pills at your feet. You noticed his jaw clench and his grip on the steering wheel tighten, but he kept his mouth shut.
‘If you think you’re getting a word out of me then you’re going to be very fucking disappointed.’ You tried your best to sound intimidating, but you couldn’t help your voice wavering slightly. ‘And I’d die before switching allegiance to Hydra.’
‘You wouldn’t have a choice.’
You paused, taken aback a little. There was some emotion in those words. Only faint, but it was there, and you weren’t about to ignore it.
‘Like you didn’t?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Softening your voice, you leant towards him slightly. ‘I’d like to know.’
You thought maybe you saw a flicker of something on his face, a slight twitch in the corner of the mouth and a flutter of the eyelids, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
‘Enough.’ He shot you a threatening glance. ‘No more talking.’
Heavy silence sat between you for the next few hours, your gaze only wavering from him to do an occasional scan of the horizon, trying in vain to figure out where the hell you were.
When the car eventually rolled to a stop, you were completely bewildered at your destination. 
It looked like a military field hospital, long tents stretching out for at least half a mile, but it was in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by dense forest. You could see light and vague movement inside.
A second after parking up, your driver pushed his door open and climbed out without a word. You assumed he was heading inside for back-up, someone to help drag this squirming liability out of the car and into whatever hellhole they’d constructed, but he headed in the opposite direction.
Shifting yourself to look out of the back window, you watched as he disappeared into the trees.
What the fuck was going on?
Before you could begin trying to figure it out, two very apprehensive-looking men in lab coats emerged from the tent and approached the car, only rushing to pull open the door when they spotted you inside.
‘Are you alright, miss?’
Stupid question, your wrists and ankles were bound and you’d started bleeding pretty heavily through your shirt, but fuck if you weren’t glad to hear a friendly voice. After you’d briefly explained your situation, the two of them rushed you inside and began patching you up.
As you lay there, enduring the harsh twinges of pain being produced by their rough clean-up operation, all you could think about was him.  
He’d saved your life.
You tried your best to think of any motive he’d have for dropping you off in this safe location, any way this situation benefitted him or Hydra, but you came up completely blank.
Eventually, you came to accept that you’d probably never find out.
---
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---
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
R u thinking of doing a new series soon? Love ur stuff btw 💞
I really appreciate you asking anon, to be honest I've just been having a bit of writer's block recently.
When I started writing I was doing it just cause I enjoyed it, and other people enjoying it too was just a great bonus, but recently the engagement on my newer stuff has dropped a bit and I've stupidly been letting myself get bogged down in trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong.
I just need to stop worrying about the numbers and start writing for fun again, hopefully I'll sort myself out and put together a new series soon.
All that said, I want to emphasise how much I appreciate the hell out of every single person who likes/comments/reblogs/messages etc.
It honestly means the world to me, y'all are absolute beauties.
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
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Hot Patootie
Summary: You’d started to lose faith in the city you loved so much, then you met someone who breathed new life into it.
Pairing: 60's!Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Language
Author's Note: I think I’ve accidentally started a little series of one-shots inspired by song lyrics, but hey, not mad about it. This one’s very loosely inspired by Meat Loaf’s Hot Patootie.
---
Lower Manhattan, New York. Summer, 1967.
A loud thump against the wall jolted you awake. The neighbours were fighting again.
You lazily rubbed your eyes and pulled in a deep breath, almost choking on the thick, warm air that had been stagnating in your bedroom overnight.
Hauling yourself onto your feet, you clumsily ambled across the room. Your head was pounding and your mouth was bitter with the taste of stale cigarette smoke. You heaved the window open, ignoring the chips of white paint falling to the floor around you, and leant as far as you could through the gap.
For a few peaceful moments, you closed your eyes and breathed in the city.
To a small-town bumpkin like yourself, New York was a colossal and terrifying wonderland, a tidal wave that could easily swallow you whole if you didn’t have the gumption to keep your head above the water.
But you’d always longed to take the dive.
So, when a family friend had mentioned in passing their cheap, empty rental in The East Village, you practically jumped at the chance. The place was cramped and crooked, two of the windows wouldn’t close all the way and you were pretty sure there were rats living in the walls, but you were willing to put up with all of that if it meant you could live your dream.
And, at first, you did.
At first, the Village’s beatnik community of hipsters and juvenile delinquents was fresh and alluring but, after a while, it all became a little stale. 
Everyone around you was so desperate to achieve individuality that they inevitably converged into perfect replicas of one another- you couldn’t throw a bottle cap out your window without hitting someone who bore passing resemblance to Bob Dylan.
So, struggling to find motivation or inspiration, you just spent your days on the couch smoking Virginia Slims and your nights haunting some of Greenwich’s dingy music cafés.
The warm morning slowly turned into a close, clammy summer evening, beads of sweat forming on your brow as you trudged through the soupy air.
Turning onto 2nd Avenue, you had to dive from the path of a young mother with a stroller, her heels rapidly clicking at the end of her long, pale legs as a cigarette hung precariously from the side of her mouth. She took no notice of your irritated frown.
As you paused to recollect yourself, you felt your gaze gravitating towards a tall, broad greaser with suede blue eyes and a roguish smirk, leaning against the bonnet of an open-top Ford Mustang. He was intently watching everyone who passed by him, his face periodically obscured by clouds of thick smoke.  
A bolt of white-hot anticipation shot down your spine when his eyes met yours.
You were eager to chase that feeling.
He dropped his cigarette butt, crushing it under his black leather boot before taking a step towards you.
‘Where you headed, darlin’?’ His thick Brooklyn accent spilled out of his mouth like molasses, bright pink lips curling into a wicked smile as he awaited your response.
‘Greenwich.’ You stopped a few feet in front of him. ‘Why, you looking for some company?’
‘Somethin’ like that, yeah.’
Doing your best not to blush under his intense stare, you let your gaze dance past him and over cherry-red paintwork of his car, wondering to yourself how easy it would be to just say fuck it and hop in.
‘Greenwich is just beats and hippies, bunch o’ posers.’ He took another step as he spoke, almost coming toe to toe with you. 'I could show you the real city.'
‘Is that right?’
‘Mhmm. It’s just across the bridge.’
His eyes glistened with expectation as you considered the offer. 
On the one hand, you’d moved to New York with the assumption that you had common sense enough to stay out of trouble, and he was definitely trouble.
On the other hand, you were an absolute sucker for a great smile in a pair of Levi’s.
‘Alright, why not.’
He grinned, taking a few steps backwards and gesturing his head towards the passenger seat. You strolled over and tugged the door open, ignoring the empty liquor bottles in the foot-well as you climbed in.
A thick arm immediately draped over the back of your seat. ‘What do I call you then, sweetheart?’
‘Whatever you like.’ You did your best to match his overt flirtatiousness. ‘But my name is y/n.’
‘Bucky. Pleasure to meet you y/n.’
Speeding across the East River beside this perfect stranger, sneaking glances at his stunning profile as the warm wind tousled your hair, you felt so incredibly alive. 
More alive than you’d felt in years.
You drove for a while, the familiar streets of Lower Manhattan falling away, replaced by endless, bustling Brooklyn neighbourhoods. You were in a completely new territory, but it wasn’t as daunting as you expected.
On the contrary, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this excited. 
Bucky eventually parked up in a narrow side street and hopped out. ‘You mind walking a while?’
‘Depends on the destination.’
‘It’s a surprise.’ He rounded the car and pulled your door open, offering you his arm as you climbed out. ‘But it’s a good one.’
Maybe it was his tender smile, or maybe it was your irrational yearning for any kind of new adventure, but you found that you completely trusted him. You let him lead you through this new, unfamiliar landscape, fascinated at how he interacted with his surroundings.
He walked these streets like he owned them.
You came across a group of old men with pompadour hairstyles, tobacco pipes and huge turn-ups on their short sleeves, all gathered around an old chess board outside a barber shop. 
Every single one of them turned to give Bucky a dutiful nod of recognition as the two of you passed by.
A small pack of feral cats ran across your path, heading towards an elderly, dishevelled lady perched on a stone step, who began to hand-feed them. Her clothes were riddled with holes and her scruffy grey hair was scraped into a loose ponytail. 
Bucky greeted her by name, not breaking stride as he reached a five dollar note from his pocket and placed it in her free hand.
‘That your mom?’ You teased him as soon as you’d gotten out of her earshot.
He just chuckled, shooting you a mischievous wink as he snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.
It took a little while, but you eventually figured out that he was leading you towards Coney Island. Not exactly what you’d expected, but you’d never been before, and it definitely beat being murdered in an alleyway. 
The bright, flashing circus lights illuminated the late evening’s gloom. The jolly music and crowd of merry revellers, combined with the feeling of a strong hand dancing zealously over your hip, made your lips curl into a wide grin.
Bucky insisted on showing you his skills at the Davy Crockett rifle range. On his first try he won a miniature cowboy hat, which he flat-out refused to wear despite your hounding, and which he eventually gifted to a small boy beside him who was struggling to hit any of the targets.
You reluctantly had a try and turned out to be even more hopeless than you’d anticipated. You only managed to hit something when Bucky basically took the shot for you, his chest pressed against your back while his arms lay on top of yours, warm breath fanning over the back of your neck as he pulled the trigger.
After the two of you had spent a good few hours messing around in the arcade, he bought a couple sodas and some doughnuts to eat on the beach.
Sitting on the sand, watching the glimmering sun set over the sea, you felt comfortable enough to ask him something you’d been dying to know all evening.
‘So, why me?’ He turned to you with a quizzical look, wiping the sugar from his lips when he noticed you giggle slightly. ‘I’ll bet hundreds of pretty girls walked past you on 2nd before I showed up.’
‘You looked a little miserable, thought maybe I could cheer you up.’
‘I see. You make a habit of picking up down and outs on street corners?’
‘Occasionally.’ That answer surprised you a little, making one of your eyebrows jump halfway up your forehead. ‘But most of the time they just use me for a free ride over the bridge and then steal my meter change on the way out.
A faint chuckle escaped your lips. ‘Smart ladies.’
The night was slowly closing in, streetlights flickered into life one by one as the two of you strolled back towards his car, laughing together with hands intertwined.
He opened the passenger door for you, shooting you a sinful smirk which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The car rocked slightly when he jumped in beside you.
‘You taking me home?’
His head spun towards you as the engine roared into life. ‘Nope.’
The mustang eventually rolled to a stop in a quiet, wooded area. There was one other car, parked far enough away that you couldn’t tell if it was occupied. Once Bucky had clicked the headlights off, you could see a faint view of the city through the dense trees.
‘Here we go.’ You folded your arms in reluctant acceptance. ‘My parents warned me that if I moved to New York I’d get murdered.’
‘Mhmm. As soon as I saw you in the street I knew you’d fit perfectly in my trunk.’
The two of you chuckled as he pulled out his pack of Lucky Strikes, passing you one before flicking open his lighter. Watching him light up, his lips gently puckered around the cigarette while the reflection of the small flame glistened in his eyes, you felt your heart thump a little harder and your breathing become a little more laboured.
‘Why were you so down, anyway?’
His question snapped you out of your hypnosis. ‘I don’t know, I guess I was just thinking about how life in the big city isn’t panning out exactly how I’d hoped.’
‘I reckon you think too much.’ He kept his gaze fixed towards the windscreen as his arm snaked around your shoulders. ‘Sometimes you just gotta switch off and let life happen.’
‘What d’you think I was doing when I climbed into your car?’
‘Worryin’ that you were gonna get murdered, apparently.’
‘Well you look like the type.’
He turned towards you, chuckling deeply as he dropped his cigarette butt over the side of the car. ‘Oh, I like you.’
‘Thanks.’
The arm that was lying around your shoulder slowly bent back on itself, hand coming to gently stroke a couple fingers over your cheek. The sensation sent hot, searing waves down your spine, making your stomach tense and your toes curl in anticipation.
As he moved a little closer, you found yourself completely transfixed by his eyes, glowing and flickering like blue flames. You kept your gaze fixed on them right up until the last second, right up until his face came so close that your eyelids instinctively fluttered closed.
His lips pressed softly against yours, making your breath hitch before you began to relax, focusing on the sensation of his warm skin against yours and his arms slowly circling your waist.
You weren’t sure how long it took, the minutes really seemed to blur together, but he eventually began tugging you into the backseat, slowly manoeuvring himself to rest between your thighs.
The feeling of his lips and hot breath against your neck made you melt against the leather seats, almost losing yourself in him completely before a stark realisation hit you.
You tapped him on the back, making him swiftly lift his head and catch your gaze.
‘You alright?’
‘Yeah, just- does the roof on this thing go up?’
‘Course.’ He smirked down at you, lowering his face until his mouth was hovering a centimetre above yours. ‘But where’s the fun in that?’
---
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---
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
Text
Lullaby
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Summary: You’d learned to live with your nightmares, never expecting to find any kind of remedy
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Language, mentions of parent death
Author's Note: Back on it, ploughing through some lovely requests :)
---
You couldn’t believe it when you got the call.
Tony Stark had chosen you to be his new secretary, effective immediately.
Your flight to New York left the same day, but that wasn’t no issue at all, because you had very few belongings to pack and ever fewer goodbyes to say. No heartache or sentimentality, it was finally time to get away from your past and everything that reminded you of it.
Even though America was huge and bright and terrifying, it felt like your promised land, and you were eager to absorb every last drop of its mystifying beauty. You could barely stop yourself excitedly fidgeting in your plane seat.
Unfortunately, you’d greatly overestimated your capacity for adapting to sudden change. Your first day of work was really overwhelming.
You spent the entire morning just trying to familiarise yourself with the insanely complicated computer system, and a great deal of the afternoon doing the same, only getting a “break” during the hour or so you spent sitting in Tony’s meeting with Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes.
They were all huge, incredibly intelligent and intimidatingly attractive- you’d really been thrown right in at the deep end.
Steve and Sam didn’t take much notice of you, giving polite smiles when they arrived but nothing more than that. You figured that, with this workload, Stark probably cycled through a new secretary every couple of months, so they’d have no real reason to learn your name or engage you in conversation.
Bucky, on the other hand, seemed a little intrigued. You felt his gaze land on you a few times, but whenever you mustered the courage to look back, his eyes immediately flicked away.
It was unbelievably difficult to focus on note-taking whilst being repeatedly studied by this statuesque, mountain of a man.
It was also unbelievably difficult to shake him from your mind even after the meeting had ended. When you finally finished for the day, you were completely exhausted and ready to just collapse.
Thankfully, your bed was only an elevator ride away.
Stark had given you a bedroom in the compound while you were looking for an apartment in the city. You told him you were struggling to find a place you liked but, truthfully, there was no way you could afford a deposit until you got your first pay check through.
You whiled away the evening hours watching some crappy shows and reading, eventually bumbling through your night-time routine and slipping into bed, hoping so much that tomorrow would be just a little easier.  
---
A long, dark hallway stretched out before you. No doors, no windows, no turns, no end.
The soft padding of your bare feet against the ground echoed off the walls as your legs involuntarily marched into the darkness before you.
You focused more intently on the sound. It began to split, a distinct new set of footsteps detaching themselves and moving out of time with yours.
A cold wave of dread trickled down your spine. There was something behind you.
You couldn’t stop, couldn’t run, couldn’t turn. All you could do was carry on walking, forced to helplessly listen to the increasingly fast approach of your pursuer.
Hot, heavy breath brushed against the back of your neck. A set of long, dark claws crept their way into the corner of your vision, twitching manically, before clamping down on your shoulder.
‘Y/n!’
You bolted upright, eyes shooting open as you tried to gulp in deep breaths, heart thumping inside your chest like a jackhammer. Still struggling to separate the residual fragments of your nightmare from reality, you instinctively jerked away the hand firmly gripping your shoulder.
Bucky took the hint and stepped back from your bedside. ‘Are you alright?’
‘Jesus.’ You roughly wiped some of the cold moisture from your forehead. ‘Why the fuck are you in my room?’
‘I’m really sorry, I know this is weird but I heard you freaking out in here and I just wanted to make sure you were alright.’
Your gaze flicked towards him, the intense concern in his face confusing you a little.
He didn’t know you at all, why did he care?
You took a few deep breaths and collected your thoughts. Maybe cursing him out like that was a little harsh, he was just trying to help. Besides, if there was any face you wanted to shake you out of a nightmare, it was definitely that one.
‘I’m okay, thank you.’ You swung your legs over the side of the bed, perching yourself right on the edge as you shot him a faint smile. ‘I appreciate you checking up on me.’
‘Anytime.’
He lingered for a few seconds, rubbing his thighs nervously, before giving you a quick nod and heading back towards the corridor. Just as he reached your doorway, he paused, quickly spinning back around.
‘I’ll be in the living room for a while. Y’know, if you struggle to get back to sleep.’
You felt your smile grow into a wide, bashful grin as you watched him disappear down the hall. Your usual post-nightmare routine consisted of splashing cold water on your face and crying for an hour, so hanging out with Bucky was immeasurably preferable.
You debated how long you should wait before joining him, not wanting to miss an opportunity to get to know him better but also worried about coming across overly keen.
Ten minutes seemed reasonable.
Slipping on a sweater, you tiptoed past the other bedrooms on the corridor, hoping to god you wouldn’t wake any of the others and accidentally make a bunch of powerful enemies before you’d even spent your first night here.
Bucky was slouched on the sofa, watching TV with the volume so low that, at first, you thought it was muted. An open but untouched bottle of beer was standing on the table in front of him.
‘D’you have super hearing or something?’
His head snapped towards you, the corners of his mouth curling into a pleasantly surprised smile.
‘Something like that, yeah.’ He patted the seat next to him as he clicked the screen off. ‘There’s never anything worth watching on at this time anyway.’
‘You make it sound like you’re always awake at 4am.’
‘Mhmm. It’s nice to finally have some company.’
Chuckling weakly, you planted yourself next to him, as close as you could without invading his personal space. As soon as you were settled in, you felt him shift towards you.
‘You get nightmares often?’
‘Most nights since I was a kid.’ His mouth fell open slightly. ‘It sucks, but I’ve learned to live with it. They’re not nearly as bad as they used to be.’
‘Really? You were thrashing around like a fish out of water.’
Your face heated up a little when you noticed his playful smirk. ‘Trust me, that’s nothing. When I was eight I dislocated my aunt’s shoulder. Didn’t even wake up when she screamed.’
‘Jesus. You could’a warned me that I was risking my life earlier.’
‘Yeah, sorry. It’s just that, usually, people wait a few days after first meeting me before they come into my room while I’m asleep.’
He cocked a mischievous eyebrow at your teasing. ‘I’ll knock next time.’
‘Good plan.’
You pressed your hand to your mouth to stifle a deep yawn, feeling incredibly drowsy all of a sudden, like you could drift off right there on the couch. The adrenaline from your nightmare must’ve finally worn off, it just never usually happened so quickly.
‘You good?’ Bucky obviously noticed your abrupt decline. ‘You can rest on my shoulder, if you want. Not as comfy as a bed but I can give you a hard shake if you start freaking out again.’
‘Thanks, I’ll try my best not to.’
You didn’t want to intrude too far, so you just leaned over and perched your head on the very edge of his shoulder. Without missing a beat, he shifted himself towards you, causing your head to slide neatly into the crook of his neck.
‘Did they start for a reason?’ You didn’t answer right away, needing a second to figure out how best to word it. ‘It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it.’
‘No, I don’t mind. They pretty much started right after my parents died. They probably would’ve just stopped on their own after a while if I hadn’t had to move in with my aunt and uncle, pair of fucking assholes.’
He let a low chuckle escape his lips, sliding an arm around your shoulder and squeezing them lightly. ‘Well in that case I hope you did much more than dislocate her arm.’
‘I wish.’
You yawned again, unconsciously nestling your head further into Bucky’s neck and your body into his side, the soft motion of his hand stroking over your shoulder just making you all the more drowsy.
‘It’s alright, you can go to sleep.’ His soft, low voice was like a lullaby. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ 
As your eyes fluttered closed, you felt your breathing fall in time with his, and you slowly drifted off into the most peaceful sleep you’d had in years.
---
It was a little embarrassing when Steve came across the two of you in the morning, fast asleep on the couch, tangled together like electrical wires. Bucky explained the situation, but Steve didn’t look too convinced by his tale of nightmares and innocent chat.
Even Tony gave you a knowing look as he walked past your desk.
This wasn’t exactly the reputation you’d hoped to build in your first week, but nothing that could’ve shaken your good mood that day. Every time you thought about the night before you couldn’t help grinning to yourself like an idiot.
You even felt more optimistic about your future in the job, everything just seemed so much more straightforward and intuitive.
It was incredible what a difference some good, deep sleep made.
As you were getting ready for bed that night, your heart jumped at the sound of a soft knock against your bedroom door. You inched it open to see Bucky, looking a little nervous, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his sweatpants.
‘Hey, I uh- I was just wondering-’ He paused for a second, narrowing his eyes at you slightly before chuckling and taking a step back. ‘Never mind, it was stupid.’
‘Go on. I promise I won’t laugh.’
You waited as he took a deep breath and steeled himself. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I slept better on that couch than I have in years. So I thought-’
‘Do you want to come in?’
You were a little surprised at how easily that’d fallen out of your mouth, and he looked pretty shocked too. ‘You sure?’
‘As long as you’re still willing to give me a cold, hard slap when necessary.’
He chuckled, nodding firmly. ‘I can definitely do that.’
You stepped aside and let him pass, quickly ducking your head into the corridor to check for witnesses before softly pushing your door closed.
After that night, you and Bucky fell into a routine of sneaking between bedrooms after everyone else had gone to sleep.
It was inexplicable, but the two of you just seemed to sleep so much better in each other's company. At first, Bucky had to wake you up and calm you down a couple times a night, but it really wasn’t long before you started sleeping through the night.
Between having him in your life, having your dream job and having the brand new feeling of being consistently well-rested, everything in your life finally felt like it was falling into place.
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
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Happy Holidays!
Just wanted to quickly wish you all a happy time whatever holiday you celebrate, hope it's v relaxing and magical.
I'll be taking a little break from writing for the next few days, but I have lots of ideas for future stories, so I'll be back on it soon and will still be here to read requests or messages or whatever else you fancy sending me.
(I'm not planning on being fully sober again now until the 27th, so if you want to know my deepest darkest secrets this is the time to ask.)
(For legal reasons that's a joke.)
Much love my friends!
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
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Stranger’s Kiss
Summary: Heartbroken and lost, the neon city streets seemed to guide you to exactly where you needed to be.
Pairing: Bartender!Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Language, smut references
Author's Note: Cheeky little oneshot, hope y’all enjoy. It’s based around lyrics from Stranger’s Kiss by Alex Cameron.
---
Don't even bother climbing out of the well That ain't no way to get out of the hell that you're in
Four years.
You’d given him four years of your life, for what?
For you to walk into your bedroom and find him balls deep in some tramp from his office.
You left without a word, but it felt like something of yours had stayed there, with them. Like they’d chipped away a piece of you and left it lying there on the carpet.
As you walked aimlessly for hours, the city started to feel like it was dying around you. 
The night was made of flickering street lights, sirens, broken glass and junkies. You thought about leaving, starting somewhere fresh, but what was the point? You'd have to take your baggage with you wherever you went.
Keeping your head down and your pace swift, you half-listened to the faded whispers of people passing you in the street, but even those were eventually drowned out by the pattering of rain against the sidewalk. 
Turning into one of the city’s many dreary backstreets, you saw a solitary neon sign bathing the uneven concrete and murky puddles in a jarring red light. 
The only place that was open this late, Stark’s Bar.
It was the end of the earth, the rock under which all the sad and lonely insects of the city crawled. You’d never been inside, never before sunk low enough to warrant a visit, but tonight it seemed to be calling your name.
As soon as you tugged the door open, the heavy scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke hit you like a wall, knocking you backwards. But inside was warm, dry and quiet. 
That’s all you wanted.
Keeping your eyes fixed on the sticky, creaking floor, you trudged towards the bar, taking the first free stool you found. A broad torso planted itself opposite you, blocking out the dim light that streamed from underneath the crooked lampshades.
‘Double scotch.’
‘You sure you’re in the right place?’
The torso’s low voice came from above your head, but you didn’t bother glancing up. You didn’t have the energy or the inclination for conversation right now.
‘Double scotch.’
The dim light returned, only interrupted again when a tumbler flecked with hard water stains and half-full of liquor was dropped in front of you.
You stared at that glass for what felt like hours, just thinking.
There was no way you could go home tonight. You’d struggle to ever set foot in that apartment again, the whole place was scattered with painful reminders of everything you’d lost. Maybe you should call your mom, ask her to pick a few things up for you.
Tomorrow.
Tonight, just find a motel and sob yourself to sleep. 
---
I know you're wondering why you wish you were dead And there's no solace in the fact that it's all in your head
That flickering red light just kept leading you back to where you knew you belonged.
You dropped yourself on the same barstool and waited for the torso to plant itself in front of you again, ordering the same drink as you had for the past however many nights you’d been here. They all seemed to blur into one.
Something different happened this time, though.
The shadow didn’t shift. You waited, eyes fixed downwards, but the dim yellow light didn’t return.
‘Are you alright?’
This was only the second time you’d heard the torso speak, but the voice was much firmer than last time.
‘Fine.’
‘So you’re depressed and a liar? Not a great combination.’
Your eyes shot up, widening a little as you took in the monolith of a man in front of you. His dark, stained t-shirt was stretched over his thick shoulders, bright pink lips trained into a slight smirk as he kept his gaze fixed on you.
‘Excuse me?’
He placed his hands flat on the counter either side of you, bracing himself against the bar and bringing his face down to level with yours. ‘You been in here four nights in a row. Ordered a double scotch without even looking at me, sat for a couple hours staring at it and then left without a word. You’re telling me you’re fine? Whatever.’
'Maybe it's none of your goddamn business, asshole.'
'So drink at home.’
You watched him back away, his sharp blue eyes only breaking from yours when he eventually turned around.
He was right, you definitely weren’t fine, but you figured the only thing sadder than drinking in this place was picking up a ten dollar bottle of whiskey from a liquor store and drinking it alone in your motel room.
Besides, it made you feel a little better knowing that you probably weren’t the most tragic loser in the place.
---
Don't bother flying when we jump off the cliff Make sure it's head first if you don't want to deal with what ifs
When you arrived the next night, a double scotch was waiting on the bar above your usual stool.
You flicked your eyes up to the bartender, who gave you a nod and a knowing smile as you climbed onto your seat, your gaze slowly wandering down the length of his arms. The way they tensed and shifted as he slowly polished a glass was almost mesmerising.
It was only a minute or so before he approached.
‘Still fine?’
Maybe it was the crippling loneliness, the bottle of wine you’d had earlier in your motel room or just the fact that he was the only human being who’d smiled at you all week, but the idea of opening up and spilling all to this perfect stranger really wasn’t as unappealing as it should’ve been.
‘Been better.’
‘No shit.’ He reached a bottle of scotch from under the counter and topped up your drink, knowing full well you hadn’t so much as touched it yet. ‘I always thought we should rename this place Rock Bottom.’
A faint laugh escaped your lips. ‘Funnily enough, that doesn’t make me feel much better.’
‘Maybe not.’ He edged your drink a little closer to you. ‘But this will.’
The golden liquid rippled around the glass as you plucked it from the bar, squeezing your eyes shut and necking it down in one.
His smile widened into an astonished grin, making your face begin to heat up and your chest tighten slightly.
‘Bucky.’  
‘Y/n.’ You felt the corners of your mouth curl up slightly, a movement they’d almost forgotten.
‘Nice smile, y/n.’
Your gaze stayed on him as he went back to work, serving all the other hopeless nonentities propping themselves up on the bar. It only wavered when you felt your phone vibrate against your thigh.
It was him, your ex, asking if you could talk. He wanted to work things out.
Five days since it’d happened and this was the first time he’d tried to get in touch.
This fucking asshole had banged some random bitch in your bed, made you to live out of a duffle bag in a sleazy motel for almost a week and then expected you to come crawling back as soon as he whistled?
Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing. 
He knew you’d be low and vulnerable. He knew you’d be tempted. He knew that, even now, you were still wrapped around his little finger.
And it hurts, and it hurts But I don't wanna talk about it
A rogue tear escaped from the corner of your eye, rolling halfway down your cheek before being quickly and firmly wiped away, its brief presence going unnoticed by most of the other figures scattered around the bar.
Most, not all. 
‘Hey, you see that dude over there?’
Bucky folded his arms on top of the bar so he was eye level with you, gesturing his head slightly towards a white-haired man in a three piece suit, sitting alone at a table in the corner behind two empty martini glasses.
You had no idea where this was going, but you were pretty glad for the distraction. ‘Mhmm.’
‘Used to be a millionaire. Invested all his money in CDs in ‘98 and lost it all when Steve Jobs invented the iPod. He was married to Claudia Schiffer for a couple months but she left him when he couldn’t afford to pay for her nose job.’
A single, full-throated guffaw escaped your lips, making you clamp your hand over your mouth before slowly lowering it and muttering. ‘That is absolute bullshit.’
‘You got me.’ He leaned in a little. ‘Fun though, right? You try.’
You bit your lip slightly, gazing at him for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding and beginning to scan the room. This place was so full of eccentrics and weirdos, it was difficult to choose just one.
'Alright. Woman over there.’
Bucky twisted slightly to look at a very broad, stern-looking woman sitting at the bar, wisps of dyed red hair clinging to the moisture on her forehead. ‘Go on.’
‘She used to work security for Bryan Adams. The two of them were best friends, but he fired her after she got hammered and told him that she was in love with him. She can’t listen to Summer of ‘69 without sobbing, he broke her heart.’
His eyes darted back to you. ‘And how did she feel about that?’
Your gaze was fixed on your subject but it felt more like you were looking straight through her, your mind wandering somewhere else entirely, words falling into your mouth spilling out involuntarily.
‘Like someone shoved their hand into her chest, grabbed a handful of anything they could feel and just ripped it out. Like all the sensations in her body had been permanently replaced with waves of fear and dread that got better and worse at seemingly random intervals. Like the last four years of her life meant nothing to-’
You stopped suddenly, eyes shooting back towards him as you realised what you'd said. He stood up straight, triumphantly folding his arms across his broad chest, smirking down at you.
‘Bingo.’
'Oh what do you think you are, a fucking shrink?'
'In this job, gotta be.'
'Cause in my dreams, I miss you Then I wake up to reality's bliss
For the first time, you decided to hang around at the bar until it closed. You weren’t sure why, you had no idea what you were hoping would happen, but every minute that passed made your motel room seem less and less appealing.
Bucky called last orders, and minutes later the few remaining dispossessed wandered out into the red-bathed side street.
You hoisted yourself onto your feet, turning to leave but stopping dead when a full bottle of whiskey was firmly planted on the bar in front of you, a very smug-looking barman smirking at you from behind it.
The two of you sequestered yourselves to a snug, dimly lit corner and began sharing the liquor straight from the bottle.
As you stared blankly out the front window, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, a sensation you were enjoying far more than you were letting on. Being this close, you could pick up his faint scent of old spice and cigarettes, you could hear his deep, slow breathing and feel his muscular thigh pressed up against yours.
‘He messed you up pretty good, huh?’ You nodded faintly, keeping your gaze fixed forward. ‘Wanna talk about it?’
‘Nothing to say, really. After four years I caught him fucking someone else. It is what it is.’
He scoffed, taking a long swig before holding the bottle out to you. ‘What a fucking asshole.’
‘Mhmm.’
‘If it helps, my last girlfriend stole my TV to buy weed.’
You almost choked on a mouthful of liquor, just about managing to swallow it as you choked back fits of laughter. ‘That does help, actually.’
‘Thought it might.’ He reached over and gently pried the bottle from your hand, placing it on the table and shifting himself to face you. ‘Seems like we’re both shit outta luck.’
‘You’re not wrong there.’
As you slowly turned towards him, the wild look in his eyes made the hard thumping in your chest quicken, your lungs tightening slightly as you rapidly pulled in shallow breaths. You to adjusted yourself as his arm slid over the back of your seat.
Letting your eyelids flutter closed, you focused on the gentle stroking of his fingertips over your shoulder, the feeling of his warm breath brushing over your lips as he leant towards you, the soft pressure of the side of his nose against yours and the muffled bump as your foreheads connected. 
Everything else melted from your mind, all the stress and misery of the last few days briefly disappearing in the distance as you just let yourself live in this moment. 
His hand moved up to cradle the side of your face, drawing it towards his and finally closing the gap between you.
Now all I ever wanted and all I ever needed is right here In the stranger's kiss.
---
Permanent Taglist: @nnuree @tcc-gizmachine @emmabarnes @somewhatasoftbaddie @juenenfeu @ddowii @rebekahdawkins @x0xchristine @maevemarethyu @thechaoticargonaut @yayrainday @linkpk88 @mcolbz14 @indigo123789 @verygraphicink (Italicised names are untaggable)
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
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Home Masterlist
Summary: Two years ago, you’d left behind your hometown and the love of your life to pursue your dream career, but returning for Christmas really made you start to second-guess that decision.
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Language
---
Part One / Part Two / Part Three
---
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mymoonagedaydream · 4 months ago
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Home (Part 3)
Summary: You’d made your decision, now all you had to do was stick to it.
Pairing: Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Language
Author’s Note: Final part, hope y’all like it :)
---
You woke up the next morning feeling sick, memories of the night before flooding into your mind as soon as your eyes peeled open.
The dejection in Bucky's face as he stood up and left, how he didn’t look back even as you called his name, the sound of his heavy footsteps on the stairs and the slamming of the front door.
How he’d left the ring box on your dresser, where it was still sitting, unopened.
You buried your face in the pillow and did all you could to push last night out of your mind, but it was impossible trying to claw your way out of this pit of despair whilst being peppered with pangs of guilt and remorse that kicked you further and further down. Eventually you just had to accept that there was no way you’d be able to stop thinking about it.
And the more you thought about it, the more you doubted your decision.
An increasingly loud voice in the back of your head was screaming at you that these past few days were the happiest you’d had in such a long time, so you must’ve been insane to turn down Bucky’s offer of making this life permanent, while the rest of your brain was ferociously arguing that there was far too much you’d have to give up to make that happen. 
Were you really going to turn your back on the life you’d been working so hard towards for the past two years? At times it could be lonely and thankless, but it’s what you’d always wanted. 
So much had changed, you and Bucky had your own, separate lives now. You couldn’t just suddenly drop everything and move back home... right?
You went round and round in your head like that for hours, slowly building new trains of thought just to watch them derail and catch fire, fully aware that it was creeping up to midday but entirely unable to muster up the energy to get out of bed.
The destructive cycle was finally broken by a faint knock at the door. 
You slowly sat up as it inched open, your mother’s head appearing in the gap.
‘You want to talk, sweetie?’ Wiping your face, you nodded faintly, prompting her to step in and close the door behind her. ‘What on earth happened last night?’
Without a word, you gestured your head towards your dresser. All the colour drained from her face when she spotted it.
‘Oh fuc- is that- did he- what did you say?’
‘He bought it before I moved.’
‘Holy shit.’
A short, half-hearted chuckle escaped your lips. She really had a knack for effectively summing up complex, emotional sentiments in the shortest and sweetest of ways.
You folded your legs as she perched herself on the edge of your bed and started to stroke your shoulder, her face swimming with intense concern and pity. 
‘Well he left very suddenly, so I’m guessing that conversation didn’t have a happy ending.’
‘He asked me to stay.’ Her mouth fell open, eyebrows shooting up her forehead. ‘But I can’t, right? We both have our own lives now. I have my job and he has the workshop, too much has-’
‘Sweetie. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?’
You smiled faintly, pulling your knees up to your chest. ‘I just need time to think about everything.’
‘Well, do you love him?’ It took less than a second of deliberation before you felt yourself begin to nod. ‘Isn’t that enough?’
‘I don’t know.’
The two of you sat in silence for a minute. You could see her really scrambling to find the perfect thing to say, something that would make it all better, but she seemed to draw a blank. Instead, she leant forward and planted a short kiss on your forehead.
‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’
Giving you a final sympathetic smile, she stood up and headed towards the door, not hearing you whisper to yourself.
‘I always do.’
---
The next few days were like torture.
You were too nauseous to eat, constantly tired but unable to sleep and obsessed with checking your phone every few minutes to see if Bucky had tried to contact you.
You’d pined for him before, but this was different, this was painful.
Every so often you’d scroll through your contacts and hold your finger over his name, willing yourself to just suck it up and call him, but in your panic you’d always manage to convince yourself that you’d already blown it for good.
All you could think about was his face as he left, surely there was no way he’d want to hear from you again after that.
The days slipped away and, before you knew it, it was the morning of your flight.
Wearily gathering your things from your bedroom, you eyes wandered over to the ring box, still sitting where he’d left it. It didn’t feel right leaving it behind, but taking it would mean living with a constant reminder of what you’d walked away from.
You were far too tired for another internal war, you just grabbed it and stuffed it in your pocket.
Your dad tried to make conversation on the drive but your mind was elsewhere. The further you travelled from home, the more cracks you could feel forming in your vision of a happy future with Bucky. It wouldn’t be long before it completely shattered.
Hugging your parents goodbye, you felt hot tears begin to stream down your face, prompting your mother to ask you over and over if you were sure about your decision.
You just nodded, plastered on a smile and turned away, making your way into the airport. 
Once you got to your gate, you slumped yourself down in the waiting area, staring blankly at the floor and gently stroking the box in your pocket. Your trance was only broken when you heard the announcement.
Your flight was boarding.
Just as you heaved yourself onto your feet, your phone pinged in your pocket. 
It was a text from Bucky’s mom.
Roger’s bar. He’ll be there all evening.
---
Your cab skidded to a stop and you quickly jumped out. 
Glancing up at the neon sign blinking over your head, you began to hear the vague music and laughter coming from inside. Minutes passed as you stood out there in the snow, watching the figures through the foggy windows, building up the courage to go inside.
Taking one last deep breath, you marched forward and pulled the door open, diving into the sea of people inside. 
The place was small but absolutely packed. You frantically scanned your eyes around the place, eventually spotting him, alone at the bar. A solitary, slumped figure, the only person in there who didn’t look like he was having a good time.
You pushed your way over, stopping a few feet behind him.
‘Buck.’ It came much weaker than you’d intended, he didn’t hear you over the crowd. ‘Buck!’
He spun round, his eyes widening when they settled on you. ‘Y/n? What are you doing here?’
You tried to answer, but your words got caught in your throat. Not wavering your gaze from his face, you dug the ring box out of your pocket and held it out to him.
He shook his head indignantly, grabbing it out of your hand. ‘You really came here just to give it back?’
‘No, I- I didn’t mean-’ You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. ‘Ask me.’
‘What?’
‘Ask me, if you still want to.’
His eyes flicked between your face and the box in his hand, his irritated frown softening as the corners of his mouth started to curl into an excited smile. 
‘You wanna get married?’
‘Yes.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ You laughed through a beaming smile. ‘More than anything.’
He lunged towards you, lifting you off the ground and squeezing you tight as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You placed your hands on either side of his head, tilting it upwards and capturing his lips with yours, melting a little when you felt him smile against you.
It was only a few seconds before he pulled away, setting you back down on the floor before excitedly pulling the ring out of the box. He took your hand in his and gently slid it onto your finger.
Your breath hitched when you saw it for the first time.
‘You like it?’ Bucky snaked his arms around your waist and drew you into his chest, grinning proudly as he watched you place your hand on his shoulder and just gaze at the ring.
‘I love it.’
‘I knew you would.’ You raised an eyebrow at him, trying not to chuckle at his overt smugness. ‘I know you too well, Lilypad.’
---
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---
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