#Sleeping Disorder Tablets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enchantedbarnes · 5 months

Text

Uncle Buck • Part 6

I Caught Fire

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Word Count: 900

A/N: I know, I know - I'm sorry I suck at posting. Again - none of this was planned to go on after Part 1 😂 Only warning is this is just a short silly idea that popped into my head. However, I do have something else that's much longer cooking up, I just have been on the struggle bus to finish it. Ideas and suggestions are always welcome and what keeps this nonsense going. If you wanna spam me with replies, gifs, reblogs, what you love about these - maybe it will get the inspo bus moving along again. xoxo thank you so much for all the love so far 🥰

Bucky arrives at the house to meet up with you. You both had plans to check out the local farmer's market.

Nora opens the door with a welcoming smile, "Hey, Bucky!" She pulls him into a quick warm hug.

"Good to see your handsome face around here again," She teases while stepping back to let him step inside, "She's in the attic, go on up."

Bucky gets to the attic landing and hears music.

Stopping short he waits a moment to listen. You're singing along to the song playing.

He takes a seat on the bottom steps, enjoying the moment of you happily singing along without a care in the world.

"I'm melting, I'm melting!

In your eyes, I lost my place

Could stay a while

And I'm melting

In your eyes like my first time

That I caught fire

Just stay with me, lay with me.."

Benji walks out of his room and is about to let out a shout of excitement when Bucky holds a hand up and brings his finger up to his lips to silence him. He waves Benji over and pats the open spot next to him.

Benji runs over and takes a seat next to Bucky with a grin.

Bucky silently nods his head towards the stairs and points upstairs with an eyebrow raised.

Benji answers the silent question with a shrug and nod, as if to say, "Yup, this is what we deal with here."

"You can stay and watch me fall

And of course, I'll ask for help

Just stay with me now

We could take our heads off, stay in bed

Just make love, that's all

Just stay with me now!"

Bucky's eyebrows raise so high they almost levitate off his face.

The chorus starts up again and you let out a string of curses, "Shit. Damnit. Fuck. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7- Wait...Shit.. 6-7-8-9-10..."

Bucky holds his palms up and mouths, "What is she doing?"

Benji then mimes crocheting while mouthing the answer. "She lost count or something, happens a lot..." He whispers.

The next song starts to play. A soft guitar intro begins only to then be broken up with fast drums and heavier guitar, the unexpected transition almost startles Bucky.

Benji starts air drumming along to the song while headbanging.

Bucky lets out a silent laugh with a shake of his head.

"The toxicity of our city, of our city," you join in, singing along to the more aggressive chorus of Toxicity by System of a Down, "YOU, what do you own the world?

How do you own disorder? Disorder!

Now! Somewhere between the sacred silence

Sacred silence and sleeeep

Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep

Disorder, disorder, disorder!"

Benji is still busy in his fantasy drum performance rocking out.

Bucky starts to wonder what exactly happens in this household on a daily basis. He's certain nothing he can possibly imagine will be anything close to the actual reality.

His phone vibrates in his pocket pulling him out from his thoughts. You had sent him a text.

Did you take a scenic route to get here?

You could say that.. be there sooner than you'd think.

He's about to stand up when Benji grabs his arm and mouths, "Wait. One second..." Benji scurries off to his room and comes back a moment later with his tablet. He taps around for a bit and the song changes. The intro seems to grab your attention because he hears you go "Oooh shit." Benji smirks.

The two sit there a moment, Bucky can hear shuffling and footsteps, but they're not approaching the stairs from what he can tell.

He looks over at Benji to see if he has an answer.

"This is her favorite band," he whispers, he motions Bucky to follow him.

They both slowly move up the stairs, one step at a time, until you're in view. They stay low trying to keep out of sight as much as they can. Benji is lying on his stomach against the stairs with his head peeking up. Bucky continues to sit on a step and has his arm leaning on the next step, propping his head up to watch in amusement as you dance around the attic while carrying your crochet project with you, somehow continuing your row of stitches. You start singing along as the vocals start up.

"If you have an opinion

Maybe you should shove it

Or maybe you could scream it

Might be best to keep it

To yourself…

To yourself!"

Benji hops up and runs over to you as the beat picks up, both of them start jumping up and down with each other.

"This is why I don't leave the house!

You say the coast is clear

But you won't catch me out

Oh, whyyyyy?"

You point your crochet hook at Benji as a makeshift microphone and continue dancing as you shout, "This is why!-" You suddenly catch sight of Bucky leaning against the wall with his arms crossed at the top of the stairs and freeze in your spot.

"How long have you been here..."

"Honest answer?" He asks with a smirk.

"Obviously."

"Something about catching fire a few songs ago."

"Oh my God," You groan in embarrassment. "Creep!" You laugh while throwing a ball of yarn at him.

"Maybe they'll have a karaoke contest you can start at the market."

Another projectile ball of yarn hits his chest.

Song list/links:

I Caught Fire by The Used

Toxicity by System of a Down

This is Why by Paramore

Dividers by @saradika

Taglist: if you'd like to be on the taglist let me know. Also if you're on the taglist and change your username - let me know so I can update the list! xo

@pono-pura-vida @bitchy-bi-trash @random-writer-23 @jvanilly @clintsupremacy @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction@firstcashheroathlete@stany0url0calwh0res111@sjsmith56@eliwinchester99@babymady@shaking-a-jar-of-bees @its-daydreamer23@capswife@thecubanator2@wintermunsonreads@buckybarnessimpp@moon-light1928@emily-roberts@jeanbarton@doublevirgogirl@unknownpengu@trixxietat@imdoingbetternow@buckys-bbg@samsgirl93@lovebittenbyevans@inwhichiramble@jbuckybarnesfan@buckysfirstbitch@marvel88 @spiderman-stilinski@marvelfreakgirl@assassinscross@foolishwaitersblog@thatsojasminesworld@buckysbaby-doll@kilikina34512@rintheemolion@themorningsunshine@saranghaey@je-suis-prest-rachel@alovecraft@openup-yourmind@alicedopey@ilovetaquitosmmmm @sebbystanlover-vk@sleepertown@ivorycrow19@songoficecreamandfireworks@ellabraun9339@vicmc624@tiedyedghoulette@superduckmilkshake@ozwriterchick@kandis-mom@wintersoldierdarling@scooobies@magz-muni

#bucky barnes x reader #uncle buck fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine

217 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Don't Speak 42

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Almost lost this chapter bc my computer went nuts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You hit delete chat in the conversation settings. You leave it just as blank as before and close out the app. Just like Dr. Kemp said to. He can’t be there right away but he has a better plan. You’re not good at those anyway.

All you have to do now is wait out Andy. He’ll be going to work come morning and you’ll be alone. Then you can take your things, the things that are really yours, and leave. Finally. You realise that’s exactly what you’ve been longing for. A way out.

The hard part is still ahead of you. Freedom is still just out of reach. You have to pretend that everything’s fine but you’re realising, you’ve been doing that for a while.

You shake off your nerves and roll the tears back behind your eyes. You can cry later. Even as your cheeks strain and your nose tingles, you resist. Not yet, not yet.

You finish tidying up the tablet, trying to leave it as you found it. With not much else than your drawings. You close the cover and bring it with you as you turn off the lights and head upstairs. You sop up the mess in the bathroom and leave it dark.

You hesitate to approach the bedroom. You hear Andy’s snores, low and steady. Your skin crawls. You enter and put the tablet on the small side table where you charge it. You hang the damp robe and face the bed.

For the first time in your life, you want to hurt someone. You’re not afraid of being the one hurt. You really want to hit him and kick him and just let out your fury on him. You can’t and you won’t. You’re not who he told you you are. And you’re not strong enough for that. You’re still too small, too weak.

So you near the bed and climb under the covers. You move slowly as you pull the duvet to your chin. He snorts, making you wince, and sidles up behind you as he wraps his arm around you. You go rigid but fight through the ice that threatens to encase you. He can’t know, he can’t know.

“Mmm, where were you?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Had a bath,” you squeak, putting your hand over his. You want to rip him away but instead, you squeeze, holding him tighter. “Sorry.”

“Nmph,” he grumbles and nuzzles your crown, just as quickly drifting back into his rhythmic snores.

You exhale little by little. You close your eyes but just as quickly open again. You know you won’t sleep. You can’t. Not with him as good as on top of you. Not knowing what awaits you in the morning. But mostly, not with that needling guilt in the nape of your neck.

Amber.

You betrayed your own sister. You treated her like a villain. You demonised her. You ostracised her. You left her!

You don’t know if she can ever forgive you. You can’t blame her for that. Worse, you don’t think you’d let her forgive you. You don’t deserve it.

You feel brittle as you bite down on your cheeks. No crying, not yet, you remind yourself. For once, you have to do things right. You have to follow through. It’s up to you now.

🕊️

“I didn’t know you could make crepes,” Andy smiles as he cuts into the roll, compote fruit and syrup oozing out.

You do your best to mirror him, making a show of nibbling away at your own food.

“I found a recipe,” you tap your tablet, not far from you.

“That’s great. You’re… doing better.”

“I’m trying,” you assure him, “I hope it doesn’t make you late for work.”

“Hm? Oh, no, breakfast with you is worth it,” he pops a bit into his mouth and hums. You regret not spitting in it, repulsed by the thought when it came to you, but now, not so much.

He can sit there and lie to you. It makes it easier for you to do the same. He’s been lying this entire time. Making you feel like you’re a problem. A burden. No, you were a thing to be used. To be exploited. He never liked you, the girl he calls dove, he only liked what he could get out of you. And he got off on it.

He took Amber from you. He did that. Yes, you’re stupid for falling for it but he knew what he was doing. He lied to you. And you know exactly how he did it.

He took all that therapy and twisted it around on you. You wonder why he even bothers with Dr. Kemp when he’s not trying to change. More than the narcissist he branded your sister, he’s a psychopath. You found that on the internet too.

Bitter, angry, hateful. You’ve never felt this way before. You’ve never truly loathed anyone. Not even your grandfather. His fists were nothing compared to Andy’s emotional battering.

“Well, don’t let it get too cold. They get gummy,” you force a smile, only fed by the thought of what comes after. Of what you’re going to do when he leaves.

Run.

🕊️

When Andy leaves, you’re in the kitchen tidying up. You left all the dishes in a stack to make a convincing show for him. You’ll be busy all day scouring the skillet and the fruit stuck to the inside of the pot, along with your plates and the cutlery. Oh and the mess you made of the counters.

The door closes but you don’t break your charade right away. You give it ten minutes. Fifteen, just to be sure. Then you tiptoe down the hall and look out the window. The tire tracks are already snowed over.

You don’t hesitate. You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life. This is your chance. You spin and race upstairs.

You search the closet and the dresser, everywhere for the bag you brought there. It’s gone. Along with all the clothes from your old life. All that was you. Andy took them along with everything else.

Whatever. You grab a few pieces of the more practical slant; turtlenecks, some leggings, a pair of jeans. Socks and underwear. You work quickly, with intent. Just enough to get out, not a lot. Not too much. As little as you can. You don’t want to keep too much that will remind you of this place.

You rush back downstairs after you change. You grab your tablet and message Dr. Kemp, the chat log still blank. You delete each message once he responds. You can’t be too careful.

‘He’s gone. When can you get here?’

His reply isn’t long; ‘ten minutes, been waiting a block away.’

‘I’ll be outside.’

You close the cover of the tablet and stare at it. You hover it over the countertop but stop yourself. No, you earned this. It’s yours. Andy never did pay you for the painting. Not in full.

You hug the tablet and go to retrieve the bag you found in the front closet. A tote bag with faded floral print. You don’t wonder where it came from. You don’t want to think too hard about him or this place. They’ll soon be long gone.

You pull on your boots and your coat. That’s all he’s left you of your former existence. You don’t suspect you would have them for much longer if you stay. You shudder and grip the fabric handles of the bag.

You open the front door and step out into the drift. The snow floats down in fluffy flakes. As you step off the porch, it collects on your lashes. You make slow progress, lifting your knees high as the unshoveled walk makes each step a task. As you come up to the curb, a distant rumble comes from down the avenue.

You shield your eyes against the steady snowfall and squint. You think it’s Dr. Kemp. You’re not sure. When you saw his car, it was dark and you were more focused on other things.

He rolls down the snow-carpeted road cautiously and pulls in the next driveway before turning around and coming up along the curb. He grins at you through the passenger window and the doors unlock with a loud thunk. You grab the handle and pull.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Thanks, doctor, I… thank you. I…”

“You sounded scared, how could I say no?”

You nod and look over your shoulder at the house.

“Let me deal with Andy when the time comes,” he insists, “come on, it’s hell out here. Get in.”

You nod and haul your bag onto the floor ahead of you and put the tablet on top. You stop yourself before you release the device. You look at Dr. Kemp. He stares.

“You alright?” He asks.

“I forgot something,” you say as you let go of the tablet. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be two minutes,” you hold up as many fingers, “promise.”

“I trust you, sweetheart,” he assures with a smile, “I’ll be here.”

You take and breath and close the passenger door gently. You whip around and stumble back up the walk, stepping into the holes you left on your way out. You burst inside, not carrying for the melting snow you leave in your stead or the undone dishes, or anything about this place. There’s only one last thing that needs to be done.

You take the stairs two at a time as you complete your final chore. You barrel back down and don’t bother with a final goodbye as you head back out. For once, you feel accomplished. Like you’ve done something and you don’t give a heck what Andy feels.

You don’t look back, you just keep going. You falter but not from doubt, only the snow. You get back to the car and rip the door open, climbing in with a heave. You fall into the seat as you snap the door shut. You lean your head back and sigh.

“I’m ready to go now,” you say.

“Great,” he shifts into gear, “put your seat belt on, sweetheart, the roads are awful.”

You do as he says as you catch your breath. Your skin is buzzing from more than just the cold. You fold your hands as you try to settle your nerves.

“Good girl,” Dr. Kemp praises, “we’ll be home soon.”

🕊️

It’s real once you walk through the front door. You look around at the home decor and nearly fall apart. The stringent, almost sterile walls of Andy’s house haunt you. It’s only then, with something to compare them to, that you realise how much you dreaded them. How much you despised them.

You look around and take in every inch. The brown leather bench beside the door, a tall coat rack on the other side of the entryway, a mat for your snow laden boots, and a runner rug with the honey coloured curlicues on a deeper shade of brown. There’s a faint smell of cedar in the air.

“Ann made up the guest room for you,” he says, “and the kids are at school so they shouldn’t be a bother.”

You stop short, your hands on the collar of your coat. You look at him, dull with shock. Your cheeks tremble as you gulp.

“Ann… your…”

“My wife, yeah,” he says coolly, “she’s excited to meet you.”

“She is?” You blink, “I uh…” your eyes flit all around, “I’m so sorry, this isn’t–”

“It’s fine,” he intones, “really. She understands how vulnerable some of them a safe space.”

It’s like a slap in the face. You don’t know what you expected or why you expected it. He’s your doctor, you’re his patient, a crazy person. How did you forget that?

You glance down at his hand, his left hand. There’s a gold ring on his finger. It wasn’t there before. Not in your sessions, not at Thanksgiving. Never. Why wasn’t he with his family during the holidays?

“I thought I heard the door,” a woman appears from the other end of the hall, “oh, this must be her.”

You bat your lashes, fighting to hold yourself together. Don’t cry yet.

“Uh, hi,” you squeak as she struts down the hall.

“Hello, hon,” the tall blonde pulls you into a hug as you cower.

“Ann,” Kemp clears his throat.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forget–” she lets you go, “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

You only shake your head. Your eyes are dry and itchy. You can only look back at her before slowly glancing at Steve. Your cheeks twinge and your lips pinch. He never told you about her. Why would he?

You feel like your chest is empty. There’s an icy whirlwind inside of you, flowing through you, sending a shiver up your spine. This is the worst thing you've ever felt. What is it?

“Ann,” Kemp says, “she's had a long night.”

“Oh, of course, you take her up to the guest room,” she backs off, “you take your time, hon, do whatever you need to do.”

You nod and mouth a thank you, unable to get any noise out. She goes back the way she came and you turn, focusing on undoing your coat. What have you done?

“I guess I should've warned you, huh? What with your… issues,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Just let me know if it gets too crowded around here.”

“Okay,” you croak.

You bend to wiggle free of your boots. You don't know what to do. You just want to be alone.

He leads you through the house. Into a cozy front room and to a staircase curled up to the second floor. You follow behind him, the tote bag dangling from your grasp.

He opens a door as he faces you. You try to hide your emotions but you can barely keep from frowning. He rests his hand on the door frame.

“This is you. I'm down at the very end,” he points over his shoulder, “if you need anything…”

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? For…”

“Coming here.”

“Sweetheart, I wouldn't say yes if it was a problem,” he coos as he reaches to caress your shoulder, “I wouldn't be a very good doctor if I don't make sure my patients are safe, huh?”

“I guess not,” you murmur.

“Look, you just get yourself situated. Try to relax. I know a lot's happened but you're strong. You can do this,” he leans in, “I believe in you.”

He kisses your forehead and you wince. His hand goes to your chin as he pulls away. You stare up at him.

“I meant it when I said you're special,” he hums.

“I…” you turn your head away from him, slipping free, “I need to lay down.”

“Sure,” he smirks and drops his hand, “I'll check in when I can.”

You turn into the bedroom, slouching through as you sense him behind you. You feel him watching, as if waiting for something. You refuse to look back.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he purrs, “you're exactly where you need to be.”

The door shuts and you gasp as the bag falls from your hand. What does he mean?

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #don't speak #steve kemp #fresh #au #library au #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

168 notes · View notes