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#and real talk when i got to the 'just like bucky' part i made an audible 'awh!!'
mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
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you deserve the world
masterlist ko-fi ao3
College! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You were in a relationship with a man who had never truly cared about you, but after catching him cheating on you at a friend's party, you eventually decided to end things with him. The good news was that there was always someone who wasn't going to let you go through it alone.
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: toxic relationship, cheating, name calling, gaslighting, protective Bucky, feelings.
Author's note: college Bucky + some angst = my favorite combo. I already have a cute idea for the part 2 so stay tuned ☺️
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“And what about you, ma'am?” The waitress asked, looking at you. 
“Um–” 
“She’ll get a salad and a glass of water, thank you.” John interrupted you, not allowing you to choose for yourself. Everyone at the table went quiet, looking at you, and you felt the heat spreading on your cheeks. There was nothing new in the fact that John always decided for you, but no one from your friend really knew about that. 
You quickly nodded at the waitress with a polite smile and gave the menu back. When she left, you really hoped that this question wouldn't be discussed, but you were wrong. 
“What the fuck? You said that you were hungry. Why do you even listen to him?” Natasha, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table with Bucky, Steve, and Wanda, angrily looked at you. 
She was really protective over you, and she hated John. Natasha tried to convince you many times to break up with him, but every time you tried, he somehow managed to manipulate you to stay. And you hated yourself for being so weak. 
“Natasha, please, don't start it.” You begged, feeling that John was losing his temper. “I'm not hungry, I'm—”
“She’s on a diet, right, baby?” His fake smile made you almost want to cry, but you just nodded. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, not for the first time hearing that from your shitty boyfriend. Steve and Sam looked mostly disappointed or even concerned, but Bucky… Bucky looked furious. 
You weren't best friends. You hung out only when the team got together at the parties, and since John was extremely jealous, it had never been only the two of you. But you both felt something every time your eyes met or when you sat too close to each other. He always gave you that one-sided smile that made your knees weak and the plums of your hands sweaty. It seemed like John had always sensed that tension between you and did everything to ruin it, even fighting with Bucky a few times over it. Their enmity was unspoken, yet everyone on the team knew the real reason.
Bucky had a crush on you probably since the first day when you came to see the game, but no one on the team besides Steve, Sam, and Nat knew that. You had a boyfriend, so he had no place to ruin it. Well, that's what Bucky thought at first. But when you started spending more time with the team and he started seeing the real sides of your relationship, it made him want to just pull you out of there. 
You were so kind, and cute, and beautiful, so Bucky had to put effort into not staring at you like a creep. Everyone on the team adored you because you were nothing but sweet to them. But the person who was supposed to be your biggest supporter actually slowly ruined you. 
Bucky noticed the way your face dropped every time John ignored you and didn’t pay attention to your words. He was too busy chatting with someone on his phone or just casually didn't care and didn’t even try to hide it. Your eyes would flick between his face and the phone screen, and then you stopped talking and sat quietly, probably too deep in your thoughts. 
It really broke Bucky’s heart that you were taken for granted and that you weren't with the man who would give you the whole world without you even asking. And right now, he felt just a hot rage in his veins at the thought that John didn't care about your feelings; he was making decisions for you and convincing you that you needed to be skinnier. 
“Did you decide that?” Your eyes shot at Bucky, who was looking like he was about to punch somebody. His brows were slightly furrowed, his jaw tensed, and there was not a single hint of the playfulness that he always had.
“I know what's better for her, Barnes. She’s not yours, isn’t she?” He winked at Bucky and threw a hand over your shoulder, carelessly dragging you closer. You squeaked at the sudden movement and tried to push your boyfriend away, mumbling a quiet “stop”. 
“Oh, believe me, if she were mine, she wouldn’t try to push me away like that, Walker.” Bucky looked directly at you, making the weird feeling blossom in your stomach. The things that you were feeling for Bucky were wrong; you knew that. You had a boyfriend, and thinking about another man was basically cheating. 
But how could you not? 
He looked at you at every opportunity—you saw it even if you didn’t show it. Bucky was a charming man, a gentleman, with a beautiful face and a kind heart. Even though you weren’t so close, you were able to collect pieces of information from other guys, and you wanted to know him so badly, but it seemed like John felt something weird and forbade you to talk to him. 
Your heart told you otherwise, though. You felt a reaction in your body every time Bucky smiled or laughed, even not with you, when you accidentally touched his hand a few times, and when you caught his baby blue eyes in the room. 
It was never like that with John. John has been your first and only everything since high school, and after some time, it felt more like a routine to be together. He didn’t want to let you go, even though you suspected that he was cheating. You couldn’t say whether you loved him or not, but his usual coldness, carelessness, and annoyance when you were around made you think that you were the problem. 
You were not ready to admit that you often lay in bed before going to sleep, thinking about how your life would be if you dated Bucky. 
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There was more tension between John and Bucky than usual after that night. They even got into another fight in the field over nothing, and you couldn’t help but think that it was partly your fault. 
On Friday evening, there was a party at Bucky’s and Steve’s house. John was against you going there, and you got into another big argument over it, so he said that was not going to drive you there, and it was your own responsibility. Not that he usually gave you a ride somewhere; even on the rare occasions that were supposed to be a date, he went there in his car while you had to take a bus or a taxi. 
He will apologize later for everything he said to you, but he will still repeat it a few days later. Those emotional swings honestly drained you; you were sick of his behavior and disrespectful words and of the way he was treating you. But you still stayed for reasons that even you couldn’t name. 
Natasha, your usual lifesaver, picked you up despite your refusal, and after almost thirty minutes of driving, you pulled near the house with the loud music and a lot of people everywhere. 
Holding Natasha’s hand, you walked through the bunch of people dancing and drinking into the room where your group usually sits. Two large sofa’s and a few armchairs were filled with boys from the team, Wanda and Yelena; the coffee table in between them was almost breaking from the weight of the alcohol bottles. 
“Look who I got here.” Natasha slightly pushed you further into the room, and you followed her, still holding her hand, smiling and saying “hey” to everyone in the room. You definitely didn’t miss the way Bucky checked out your figure in a soft green dress. 
He was sitting next to Steve, holding a bottle of bear in his hand, and he was looking awfully attractive in the simple jeans and t-shirt. He also had that boyish smile, which made you feel weird. 
You were stuck on the coach between Natasha and Thor, who was laughing so hard that your entire body moved with him. Sam gave you a red cup with your favorite drink in it, and you sat comfortably laughing at the jokes with the group.
Even at parties, “Avengers” liked to hang out together, and with loud music and a lot of strangers in the house, it was fun and relaxing. People from your little circle came and went; some of them wanted to dance, some wanted to find a girl for the night, and when there were only your closest friends left, you remembered about John. It's already been half an hour since you came here, but you haven’t seen him. 
“Did you see John? He said that he'd be there.” 
“I saw him once, he should be somewhere here. Do you want me to find him?” Always cute and ready-to-help Thor looked at you with his kind puppy eyes and smiled.
“No, thanks, Thor. I’m just curious.” You waved your hand at him and soon forgot about your boyfriend, too interested in another playful argument between Sam and Bucky.
After another ten minutes, when your drinks finally started working, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom on the second floor. The boys didn’t let anyone besides your group go on the second floor, so as it seemed at first, the corridor was empty. You did what you needed to in the bathroom, and when you almost went down the stairs back to your friends, a weird noise caught your attention. 
You went in another direction, and around the corner, you saw something that you definitely didn’t expect. John was almost eating another girl’s face. Her legs were wrapped around his naked body, and his t-shirt was carelessly thrown on the floor. Your sudden gasp probably gave you away, because John immediately stopped and looked at you. 
Bucky had just finished another bottle of beer when strange noises came from the second floor, and you almost ran down the stairs in tears with John chasing after you. 
“Y/N, please, wait! That’s not what you think! I can explain!” John was struggling to fasten the belt on his pants and was half naked. The tall blond girl walked down the stairs, looked at you with a grin, and disappeared into the crowd. And then it hit Bucky. He cheated on you.
That motherfucker cheated on you.
Guys stood from their places, as if the same thought came to all of them at the same time. John grabbed your hand, not allowing you to leave the room. You tried to get away, but he brought your shaking form closer and looked almost as if he were truly sorry.
“C’mon, you know that I love you. It was just sex. Please, honey. Don’t be mad.” He spoke too softly. It was obviously so fake, and it made you want to vomit. You looked at John through tears. You tried to stop them, but they were just streaming down your face. The painful wound in your chest felt like you were suffocating.
You were breathing heavily, trying to control yourself and not make a scene. God, everyone could see you. Your closest friends were watching your interaction, which was so fucking humiliating that you wanted to flee right then and there.
Steve and Sam both held Bucky by his hands so he wouldn't interfere. You had to end it on your own, but Bucky was in such rage that he could’ve probably killed John.
“D-don’t touch me, please. I don’t want– I don’t want it, I’m sick of you, of this. I-I’m done.” You stuttered, pushing him away from you, but John refused to let you go. 
“Don’t you understand that you need me?!” As always, his behavior changed in a blink of an eye, and now, again, you were responsible for his actions. “It’s your fault. It wouldn’t have happened if you had given me what I needed… And can you stop fucking crying and put on a performance for everyone?" You shook your head to not let his words settle in, but you were already too hurt and broken to fight or stand up for yourself. Now you were blamed for your boyfriend’s cheating, and once again, he reminded you that your emotions were wrong. 
The whole team looked at how your posture changed, you made yourself seem smaller, and your head was low with eyes glued to the floor in shame. Everyone was ready to step in, but Natasha was already ahead of everyone. 
“I knew that I had to chop off your dick many years ago. You’re just using and manipulating her into thinking that she is the one to blame, while you are the piece of shit responsible for it.” Using the fact that Nat caught John’s attention, you ran past him back on the second floor, locking yourself in the bathroom.
As soon as you ran away, it became messy, with screams and almost a fight between Bucky and John. Sam and Steve weren’t able to hold him anymore. He was so pissed, ready to wipe off this asshole’s smirk for the way he talked to you. 
Bucky was able to throw a punch before his teammates dragged him away and held John by his hands too. 
“You’re trying too hard to get into her pants, Barnes. She’s not worth it.” John laughed, and Bucky tried to escape again, only to be stopped by Natasha, who got sick of this childish behavior. 
“James, go find her." She started throwing orders. “Boys, get the trash out of the house.” Her perfect red nail pointed at John behind her back. “And you, go fuck yourself. You’re not getting near her ever again, I promise you this.” 
“Are you sure?” Bucky furrowed, not sure how you would react to his company. 
“Yes. You know that you can help her. We both know that.” She licked her lips, stepping closer to Bucky. “But if you ever hurt her, I swear to God, it’ll be your last day on earth, Barnes.”
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You quietly slid down the wall, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle any sounds. Your heart was ripping apart, and you felt like you were going to faint. So stupid, so fucking stupid. The tears were rolling down your cheeks nonstop, and you just curled into yourself, crying and suffocating. It was probably your own fault that you hadn’t noticed everything earlier; it was obvious. John didn’t love you and didn’t care about you; he saw you as a possession and it made you sick thinking about every time he humiliated you.
It could be only a few minutes or a whole hour when you hear a soft nock on the door. Your whole body froze, waiting until the person went away. 
“Doll, it’s me.” Bucky. You felt the relief washing over your body, but you still refused to answer him or make any sound. “Doll, please, open the door. I know that you’re here. I just want to help you.” His calming and deep voice brought another wave of tears to your eyes. Bucky was always so gentle with you and it felt weird—you weren’t used to that treatment, especially from a man. 
You stayed quiet. Bucky tried to turn the handle on the door again, but it was closed, and you heard the muffled sound of his forehead touching the door. 
“Please, at least say something. Talk to me, Y/N. I need to know that you’re okay.” 
“Leave, Bucky.” You said between not stopping sobs. “I’ve already embarrassed myself enough.” 
Bucky's heart sank to his stomach from your words and the way you were crying there over the man who didn’t deserve a single drop of your tears. “Don’t say this, doll. The only person who embarrassed himself was Walker. You have nothing to be ashamed of, I promise. Just open the door, sweetheart.” You couldn’t resist anymore. And even though you hated the thought that Bucky would see you looking like this, you reached for the lock and opened it. 
He took a deep breath before stepping in and softly closing the door behind him. You looked so small, sitting on the floor in a ball, with your face hidden behind your hands and hair. Bucky kneeled in front of you, gently placing his hands on your wrists and pulling your hands away. He shook his head when you were avoiding his eyes and trying to stop crying, when your whole body was almost shivering with emotions and pain. 
Your eyes, cheeks, and nose were red, your face was wet with tears, and your mascara was slightly smudged.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He mumbled before stroking your hair with his left hand. Bucky’s movements were so slow and careful, as if he were trying not to scare you. “C’mere. And you shouldn't be sitting on the cold floor; you might get sick. ” Bucky himself sat on the floor near you before his other hand slipped under your legs and lifted you sideways onto his lap. 
When you felt two strong arms wrap around you, your body dissolved into his. Your face perfectly fit into the crook of Bucky’s neck, and you sobbed out loud. 
“Sh-h, that’s okay. You can cry if you want to, doll. Don’t hold it back. I’ve got you.” You shook your head, gripping his shirt in your fists. You tried to control yourself, but the way Bucky tried to calm you down and was so sweet made you even more emotional. 
You were crying, hidden between his neck and shoulder, while Bucky rocked you like a baby and kissed your head. His hands never left your body, creating a safe space and grounding you.
“I’m so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid. It’s my fault that it happened. I should’ve left a long time ago. I don't—I don’t know how it got so bad.” Your voice was weak and you couldn’t stop crying as the images from the night flushed through your mind. “I’m sorry for ruining your night, Bucky.”
“No. Don’t ever apologize for things like this, doll. None of this was your fault, you hear me?” Bucky took a deep breath as the rage began to form in him towards the coward who made you so unsure of yourself. "You are the sweetest person I have ever met, and I swear everyone on the team adores you. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and I'm so sorry that it happened to you. But you should know that we’re all on your side. If you let us, we’ll make sure that John won’t bother you again, sweetheart.”
“You’re so sweet.” You smiled through tears, gripping his shirt harder.
“Because that’s what you deserve. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.” He mumbled into your hair, but it didn’t respond. Now that John didn’t control you anymore, you just didn’t know what to say or how to feel about the warmth that Bucky’s presence and words had given you. 
Bucky sat there with you, probably for another ten minutes, while you were calming down and your tears were slowly ending. After your crying session, you just felt exhausted; your body was aching and your eyes felt so heavy that you almost felt asleep on Bucky’s firm chest. 
“Hey, doll, don’t fall asleep here.” He slightly pulled you away when he felt that your breath started slowing down, ready for sleep. Bucky held your face with his right hand and gently tried to wipe your mascara. “You’ll stay in my room, okay? I won’t let you drive home in a taxi like that, and everyone else here is drunk. But first, we should take off your makeup. 
“What? No, I won't sleep in your room, it’s your place.” The cutest little frown appeared on your face and Bucky bit his lip to not make a comment about that. He helped you get up, still having a firm hand on your lower back, and walked you to the sink. “Oh my god, I look horrifying.” 
“Actually, you’re really cute. But we should take off your makeup. You can’t sleep like that and your eyes will hurt in the morning.” Bucky stepped to the side and opened the drawer. “Here is everything Nat has. Is there anything to wash your face with?” He curiously examined the bottles, reading the labels and frowning at the unknown words. 
You couldn’t hold back a small laugh at the confusion on his face and reached to take the right one, squeezing some product on your hand. Bucky had a small smile on his face, noticing that he was able to make you forget about John, at least for a few minutes. “Can I help you?” 
“You don’t have to.” 
“I want to.” Not breaking eye contact, Bucky took a new clean towel, wetted it, and gently placed his left hand on your neck while the right one wiped your makeup off. 
You froze at your place, studying Bucky’s face. He was so concentrated on his task that he probably didn’t even notice you staring. Your heart was beating too fast, and your skin was burning under his touch. You craved him, only now understanding how much your body and soul needed him. 
“You look so pretty without makeup.” Bucky smiled at you, and you couldn’t hold your own smile from forming on your lips. “Wait a second.” He stormed out of the room and returned in less than a minute with one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. “You can wear it. Now finish here, change your clothes, and you can go to sleep, okay?” As soon as Bucky got a nod from you, he smiled, placed a light kiss on your forehead, and left you alone in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach.
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Bucky’s clothes smelled amazing, just like he always did. You spend a good minute with your face buried in the t-shirt that he gave you before finally putting it on. You looked at yourself in a mirror, feeling relieved and kind of happy for the first time in a while, until your phone on the counter buzzed with messages and you saw that someone texted you several times. 
Your heart sank in your stomach when you unlocked the phone, and your eyes started quickly reading the messages from John. 
Where the fuck are you? 
Come back now, or you’ll regret it, Y/N. 
I saw how Barnes run after you
Are you fucking with him?
I knew that you were just a whore
Can’t even keep your legs close, can you?
He’ll just use you, that’s everything you're good for anyway
Always played hard to get with me, but you’re just like any other bitch
Are you going to answer me? 
You’re really pissing me off right now
“Doll?” After sending Nat a message that you were okay and that you were going to sleep in his room, Bucky knocked on the door because you were too silent there, but you didn’t answer him. “Is everything okay? Can I come in?” He leaned closer to the door and still heard nothing. 
Bucky slightly pushed the door, and the first thing that he saw was you in his clothes. He almost made a comment, until his eyes shifted to your wet, teary face. Your hand with the phone in it was slightly shaking, while your gaze was glued to the screen. You didn’t even notice Bucky’s presence until he stepped closer to you and forced you to look at him with a hand on your face. 
“Hey-hey-hey, what happened, sweetheart? I left you a few minutes ago, and everything was fine. What’s going on?” The concern in his voice made you want to cry even harder. You hesitated for a few seconds, wondering whether you should show Bucky the text messages. What if he thinks the same? What if John’s right, and that’s everything Bucky wanted from you too? 
But the way he was looking at you, so genuinely worried, wiping your tears once again, made you give up. 
As soon as the phone was turned towards Bucky, you saw the instant change of emotions on his face. His brows furrowed, the blue eyes that were soft and caring before narrowed, and his jaw clenched. Bucky was filled with so much anger that he was ready to go after your ex and beat him up. Such a sweet and cute thing as you did not deserve to be treated this way or to hear such words directed at you. But Bucky knew that it was the wrong time to show his emotions; the last thing he wanted to do was scare you, so he just swallowed his anger, took the phone out of your hands, and put it in his pocket. 
"Please don’t listen to him. Don’t listen to a single word he’s saying, Y/N.” Bucky pulled you into himself, and you once again melted under his touch. His firm chest and tight grip around your shivering body made you feel safe. “You’re the sweetest fucking person ever. You’re everything that any guy could ever dream about. You deserve the whole world to be gifted to you, doll. He knows that he lost the best girl and now wants to hurt your feelings and boost his own ego.” Bucky started stroking your hair while mumbling reassuring words into your ear. “I want you to be strong. I want you to see in yourself what I see in you. Promise me that you’ll try. And I promise that I’ll help you.” You nodded against Bucky’s chest, now too emotional about his words. “Now let’s get you to bed, that’s enough for today.”
Bucky led you to his room, which was dark with only one nightstand lamp on. You’ve been here several times at other parties, but you've never really had time to look around. It was so… Bucky? Dark and comfy, with random books laying here and there, two coffee mugs, and his uniform on the chair. 
“Can you lay with me? At least until I fall asleep.” You whispered as you sat at the edge of the bed. How could he say no to you when you looked at him with those eyes? 
You got under the blanket, already feeling like you were about to fall asleep. Eyes heavy, body exhausted from the stress and all of the tears you’d cried today. Bucky climbed near you, lifting one arm as a suggestion for you to hug him. And you didn’t waste a second. You got closer to him, perfectly fitting under his arm, and wrapped your own hand around his waist. Bucky hesitantly touched your fingers on his stomach with his free hand, but you just went in and interlaced them.
“Thank you for everything, Bucky.” You mumbled against his shoulder, barely keeping yourself awake. “I– I wish everything went differently. I like you, you know that? I always did. But now I don’t know what to do.” You nuzzled deeper into him, listening to his steady heartbeat. 
“Well, then I am happy to even have a small chance. Everyone knows that I go crazy about you. But we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sweetheart. Now sleep, you had a long day.”
“Mhm… Just don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.” Bucky kissed your head, listening to you fall asleep. The only thing that he could think about was how he was going to make you his and shower you with all the love you deserved.
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purple-babygirl · 2 months
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don't call me daddy
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 4,826
Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.
Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, crying, mentions of hot liquid getting on skin, crying, mentions of the r-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares
A/N: so this is an idea I've had for forever and I finally mustered up enough courage to share it with you guys. Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you have anything you'd like to suggest for the upcoming parts. I love you 💜
~
“This sounds stupid,” Bucky grumbled when Sam suggested the program.
“It's not stupid, Buck and it works!”
“If it worked for you doesn't mean it's gonna work for me, Sam. You have patience and it's in your nature to want to take care of people.”
“Says the one who looked out for Steve all his life!”
“Steve was one person and he was actually dumb, he wasn’t acting like he can't fucking feed himself!”
“They're not acting. They're age regressed.” Sam tried to remain calm.
“What does that even mean!”
“It means-”
“You know what? I don't care because I'm not doing it.” Bucky smiled before leaving Sam's house and going back to hide in his own.
But Sam was persistent. He was determined to get Bucky help that would actually help. So he suggested the program to Bucky's therapist and before Bucky could punch him, she was having him sign the contract.
“Sam, I don't wanna meet anyone. It's not gonna work anyway so let's just pick any of them.”
“They're not service dogs, Bucky!”
“Really? Because that's exactly what it sounds like they are to me.”
Sam glared at him, elbowing his side as a short lady with a kind smile approached them.
Bucky didn't pay her much attention. He didn't want to be here and he didn't care what she was reciting.
Only thing that caught his attention was when she asked him what age he would prefer so she could introduce him to a group of littles.
He was dreading this. It was stupid.
“…what are you looking for?” Bucky caught the end of her talk with Sam.
“I don't know, someone who can talk like they're not retarded,” he answered the lady rudely and she smiled in understanding when Sam apologized.
“They're not retarded. All of them are perfectly healthy and okay. They're age regressed,” she told Bucky and he rolled his eyes so hard he felt they might never return from the back of his head.
He hated those two words. Age regressed, what the fuck did that even mean?
“Maybe we can meet some of the littles who are not so young, like 6 year olds?” Sam suggested and she nodded, leading them to a building with long corridors and lots of doors.
Bucky could see adult women and men playing with dolls, sleeping with pacifiers and some of them even had other people feeding them.
What the hell was this place? Did they expect him to do that? With a person perfectly capable of handling his or her own self but chooses not to?! Was this the 21st century? Because he didn’t like it very much.
The lady led them inside her office and got a group of files out of some organized drawer. She'd barely laid them out on the table before Bucky was slamming his finger on one.
“We'll take this one,” he said, staring at the lady in disinterest.
“But you haven't even seen them,” Sam said between his teeth, kicking his leg under the table. He wished Bucky cared enough to do this right.
“I've seen enough. I pick this file and I wanna leave,” Bucky seethed back.
“This is Doll. She's one of the softest littles I've ever met and I think you've made a great choice, Mr. Barnes.”
“You call her Doll?”
“Yes, real names aren't revealed for the privacy of our littles unless they decide otherwise and she chose the name herself when she joined us.” The lady smiled kindly, making Bucky even madder.
“Whatever, let's get this over with. Tell her to come so we could leave.”
“Mr. Barnes, I have to admit your attitude towards this is very concerning and I fear I cannot risk the peace of our littles who confide in us to find them safe partners! Like I said she's one of the gentlest and I need to know you're going to treat her right before I even let you meet her!” The woman voiced her concerns and Bucky sighed.
He couldn't blow this now. He's come far enough with this whole process and if he went back to his therapist like that she was definitely going to get out her dreadful notebook.
He had to take this girl home tonight or else they would make him go through this same process over and over again.
“I'm sorry, I'm just a little confused, I guess.” Bucky scratched his beard.
“That's okay.” She smiled again, “most of our visitors are, but you can always ask.”
“Well- what is wrong with them?!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands in the air. Sam kicked him again and glared.
“What? She said I could ask!”
“It's okay,” she told Sam with a chuckle.
“Nothing is wrong with them. Them regressing in age is their way to cope and relieve anxiety or deal with other mental illnesses such as traumatic experiences, or even just stress. It's a freer, calmer state of mind for them to return to when it's no longer easy for them to be big.”
Her calm, kind manner while explaining this made Bucky even angrier inside. This wasn’t normal and they should all stop acting like it was.
“So they're supposed to be helping me with my issues but they're dealing with their own issues?”
Like he originally thought, this was stupid.
“Yes, it's a mutual helping program.” The lady confirmed.
“Oh. And what's this Doll's issue?”
“Doll reverts to age regression as a coping mechanism for her depression and PTSD. She's been doing great lately actually!”
“Is she suddenly gonna go grownup or-?” Bucky continued, involuntarily asking every question on his mind.
“No, like I said, Doll reverts to little space for the comfort and safety of it and while she can coax herself out of her headspace, she rarely ever chooses to.”
“But she can?”
“Yes. But I need to tell you, Mr. Barnes, that this is not why you're here.” She reminded, wanting to ensure the safety of self expression for the little one.
“I know.”
“I also need you to promise me to be a good caregiver for her. She's a sweet girl and I can guarantee she will be good for you.”
“I promise.” Bucky knew he was lying but he couldn’t care less about his honesty at the moment.
“And it’s never acceptable to make fun of her or try to force her into a more grownup headspace. That only makes it worse and her mind regresses further.”
“So what she becomes younger?!” he was trying so hard not to get frustrated, why make him!
“That's correct.” She nodded.
“How young?” Sam asked.
“The youngest she's ever been is 4.”
“Oh.” Great. Just great.
“She can still talk just fine,” she reassured them, knowing Bucky didn't want anyone who couldn't talk or seemed 'retarded'.
“Okay, good.” Bucky nodded, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible.
“Would you like to meet Doll now or do you wanna take a look at the rest of the files?”
“I'll meet her.” Bucky stood up, hand already at the doorknob.
~
The meeting thing went relatively well and Bucky was surprised the girl wasn't intimidated by his frown or intense stare. She was mesmerized by the metal arm even.
He wasn't going to lie to himself, he still thought this whole thing was dumb but he needed to convince his therapist and everyone that he was okay again so they'd leave him alone.
She didn’t ask him any questions or have any conditions. She just stared at him with wide, sparkly eyes.
A minute later he heard the girl whisper her agreement to the short lady.
Apparently, she was big enough to make the decision to leave with a strange man she didn't know but not enough to properly dress herself or sleep without a damn toy.
Bucky was relieved anyway; glad she was idiotic enough to choose him so he wouldn't have to meet with any other 'littles'. And she wasn't ugly to look at either.
The old lady had a word with her privately before she was packing a bag and they were on their way to Bucky’s place.
~
“Where do I stay, daddy?”
Bucky hasn’t said a word to her since they’d left the institution. He made her carry her bag from the car to the elevator and from the elevator inside the apartment. He wasn’t going to be nobody’s maid.
She was physically capable and that didn’t need a professional to see it.
“I don’t know, figure it out.” Bucky shrugged, kicking his shoes off by the door and stepping inside.
She followed his lead and neatly placed her shoes at the corner by the door as well.
“Where do you want me to stay, daddy?” she asked politely, wanting to make him comfortable, seeing he was the owner of the house.
He was making her a little nervous.
This wasn’t his energy back at the institution and she tried her best not to get scared.
“I don't want you. I never did,” Bucky told her the minute she sat on his couch, throwing his keys on the wooden coffee table, “We're just gonna pretend your presence here is changing something and then I'm gonna return you.”
I don't want you.
She's definitely heard that before.
Return her. Like she was some sort of item. She wasn't what he wanted and it cracked her trained-to-love heart.
“Yes, daddy,” she replied brokenly, tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes.
Nothing was worse than feeling unwanted.
“Don't call me that.” Bucky snapped.
“B-But you're my daddy.” She was seriously confused now. Why would he pick her if he didn’t want this?
“I'm not your anything and stop acting so small, you look grown up enough to me.”
Why did he take her home if he didn’t like her and didn’t want to be her Daddy?
“I'm not acting.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt more insecure than ever.
“Yeah, yeah, you're age regressed. Whatever, just don't call me that. I'm no one's daddy.” Bucky took his shirt off throwing it on the couch beside her, making her flinch.
“But what should I call you if not-”
“Call me Mr. Barnes, if you're so keen on being polite.” Bucky rolled his eyes.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She sniffled.
“And stop crying.” He huffed.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly wiped at her face, holding the rest of her tears inside and forcing the lump in her throat further down.
Bucky muttered something under his breath before snatching his shirt and leaving to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as she flinched again.
He didn't say she was a good girl for calling him what he wanted, or for stopping her crying when she was told to. He didn't like her and he wanted to return her.
What was she supposed to do until he sent her back? He didn't want her help even if they said he needed it.
Was it going to be like this for the next 3 months? How was she going to do all of the grown up stuff if Daddy Mr. Barnes didn't help her? How was she going to live? And why did she still care to try her best to be good for the harsh, blue-eyed man?
~
She didn’t know what to do so she sloppily changed her clothes by herself, putting her socks in the hamper to be washed like a good girl.
She washed her hands and feet by herself, unknowingly making Bucky think he was right all along about letting her do things on her own as she should.
That was until he put a hot cup of instant noodles before her for dinner though. He refused to help her eat and she accidentally spilled hot soup over her hand and the wooden table. It was chaos.
Bucky cursed out loud and she started crying in pain.
He had enough pity on her to drag her to the bathroom and put her hand under the cold water. If his hold on her arm hurt, she didn’t say anything.
“Keep it there, don’t you dare move.”
“Mr. Barnes, don’t leave,” she sniffled, eyes red and in pain.
“I’m not leaving you in the Sahara desert.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “I gotta go clean the mess you made.” He left her in the bathroom and she kept her hand under the water, not daring to move like she was told.
“How hard is it to eat fucking noodles! It’s not quantum physics!”
Bucky muttered angrily as he wiped the soup off the table with a cloth.
“Fuck that age regression shit I am done!” he took their noodle cups to the kitchen and dumped both in the bin.
“What are you still doing in there! It’s not like you got burnt by lava!” Bucky shouted to her, walking to the bathroom.
“I- I- Mr. Barnes, you told me not to move.” She began crying again at his angry demeanor.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky groaned, “do you ever stop crying?!”
“I’m s-sorry.” She hiccupped. She didn’t know what to say or how to please him she just wanted him to stop glaring at her. She was scared.
“Get out of there and dry your hands,” Bucky told her, sitting on the couch with a sigh.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Came her chocked whisper.
“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked when she came out of the bathroom, tears drying on her cheeks.
The question surprised her. Maybe he did care after all.
“Burns a little,” she told him, pointing to the back of her hand where the skin got burnt.
“I might have a cream here somewhere,” he said, trying his best to keep an unconcerned expression on.
She took a look around when Bucky stood up to look in the kitchen. It was a cozy place and she wasn’t too needy but she couldn’t help but wonder about where she was going to sleep.
There didn’t seem to be enough furniture in here.
“Try not to touch it and you should be fine in the morning,” Bucky instructed after applying the burns cream to the sensitive area of skin.
“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered before absentmindedly pecking Bucky’s cheek.
Bucky’s eyes widened at her guts. He certainly didn’t see that coming. It was her first night here how was she so bold!
His breath stuttered out of his lungs but he quickly recomposed himself.
Bucky’s jaw clenched and he gave her a dark stare.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“N-No.” She quickly shook her head.
“Did I give you permission to do that?”
“No.” She shook her head again, sort of knowing where this was going. She was going to get punished.
“Then why’d you do it?” Bucky sneered through his teeth.
“To th-thank Mr. Barnes.” He made her so nervous she could barely hear herself answer him.
Bucky hated her. She had no sense of boundaries. He hated the way she cried all the time. He hated the way she referred to him in third person.
He hated her.
“You already said that, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
“Don’t do it again.” Was all Bucky said and she was relieved.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky scoffed and stood up to put the cream back where he found it.
~
Turned out, Bucky had no bed. He slept on the floor and he didn’t need one.
“But where do I sleep, Mr. Barnes?” She asked in a small voice.
“Anywhere that is not next to me,” Bucky replied, not even sparing her a glance.
“Can I sleep here?” she asked, patting the couch.
“Suit yourself.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She gave a shy smile.
“I didn’t make the damn couch. Just go to sleep.”
“Bad word again,” she whispered.
“What was that?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing.” She slammed a hand on her mouth.
“Repeat what you just said if you know what’s good for you.” Bucky glared.
“I- Mr. Barnes said a bad word,” she whispered shakily.
“Yeah, well, it’s my house! I’ll talk however I want!” Bucky raised his voice.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She nodded, not even thinking about arguing that he shouldn’t curse in front of a little.
“Go to sleep.”
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly plopped on the couch, covering herself with a blanket, and burying her face in a cushion.
Bucky almost chuckled; almost thought it was cute but he shook the smile off his face quickly and sighed, taking his shirt off and getting himself on the hard floor, easily falling asleep.
He always falls asleep so fast because nightmares usually wake him up few hours after; he be waiting for bed time all day.
She peeked from under the blanket when she heard Bucky snore, carefully tiptoeing to her bag to get her stuffie. She took one look at shirtless Bucky, her cheeks heating up, before sliding back under the covers on the couch.
Her Daddy that didn’t like to be called Daddy was beautiful.
~
It has started again. He’s chasing a person, he corners them to where they could not run anymore, his left hand wraps around their throat, they struggle and beg and then snap. He kills them.
Bucky startled awake, having a hard time taking his breath only to find her on the floor next to him.
Her eyes were full of worry and maybe even sympathy as she clutched a stuffed animal. Bucky didn’t like it.
“It’s okay, Daddy- Mr. Barnes. ‘T was just a bad dream.” She whispered, dropping her stuffie to wrap her short arms around Bucky.
He wouldn’t admit it but it felt nice to be held. Something inside him wanted to succumb to the gentleness of her gesture. But Bucky shut that down at once.
“Get off,” Bucky huffed tiredly as the girl clung to him and rubbed his sweaty back.
“But-”
“Get. Off.” He repeated, grinding his teeth and she reluctantly slipped off his lap and went back to her spot on the floor.
She stared at him as he panted and frowned for a second before leaving the room.
Bucky scoffed, rubbing a hand down his hot face. She probably went to cry in the bathroom again; such a crybaby.
Except she didn’t.
She returned with a relatively cool glass of water, only half full. She didn't want to be bad and spill.
“I got you water, Mr. Barnes.” She carefully got on her knees and offered him the cup.
“Stop saying my name so much.” Bucky snatched the cup out of her hand, gulping down the water without showing an ounce of gratitude.
She pouted, crawling to her bag to get him tissues because she didn’t see any around.
“So you do know how to act around liquids after all.” Bucky taunted, still not over the fact that she spilled soup over his table before taking the tissues from her to wipe his forehead.
“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby, Mr. Barnes? It helps me after bad dreams.” She suggested, desperately hoping he would let her help.
“Not all of us act like kids to flee our nightmares.”
“Mr. Barnes.” Her eyes filled with tears and it was the last thing Bucky wanted to deal with, “I’m not acting.”
She was hurt but he didn’t care. He said what he said.
“Get back on the couch, I wanna go to sleep.” Bucky dismissed, pushing the empty glass against the wall.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered dejectedly, taking her friend and crawling back to the couch.
~
The same thing happened every night for another four nights. At this point she was really worried about the man she started singing lullabies anyway, not waiting for his permission.
“Hey, you!”
“Doll,” she corrected.
“Whatever! Shut up already. I told you I don’t need your stupid singing.” Bucky growled into his pillow.
He was lying. He hated admitting it but he was. Her voice was actually angelic. He never went back to sleep again after a nightmare but that changed when she ignored his wishes and started singing. Bucky could drift off again to her soft voice.
He could get more hours of nightmareless sleep because of her lullabies. But he was too stubborn to admit anything that came from her was working for him.
It must be a coincidence. He probably fell asleep again because he was exhausted from being mad at her all day.
“I know Mr. Barnes doesn’t need it. It’s for me.” She lied as well. She knew lying wasn’t good girl like but she was helping Mr. Barnes; it was for good reason.
~
“Mr. Barnes,” her small voice called to him but Bucky was ignoring her.
He was pretending he couldn’t hear her and continued staring at the TV because she talked too much for his liking.
“Mr. Barnes.” She ever so lightly touched Bucky’s arm.
“What!” he spit suddenly, making her jump.
“We- We need to go shopping. Mrs. Morrison will visit tomorrow.”
She knew the process and for some reason didn’t want to be taken away from Bucky.
If Mrs. Morrison came and saw the way the apartment was or the way Bucky treated Doll, she was definitely going to make her leave with her.
“What?!”
“It’s day five.” She reminded, tilting her head to the side.
“Yeah, so?” Bucky’s body fully turned to face her.
“It’s visit day. We have to go shopping.”
“How do I know you’re not lying just to get me to buy you things?”
“I don’t lie, Mr. Barnes.” She assured him, looking hurt at even the suggestion.
“It’s in the papers,” she told him, referring to the contract he’s signed as well as the guide he was provided with her file before leaving the institution.
Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, but stood up to look at the papers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer in the kitchen a few days ago.
“Shit,” he muttered when he saw she wasn’t lying. He heard her whisper bad word but chose to ignore it.
There were scheduled visits listed with different time intervals between each visit for the next three months.
Bucky groaned, throwing the paper sheet back in the drawer and slamming it shut.
“Put your clothes on, we’re going fucking shopping.”
“Bad word.”
“Don’t even-” she ran to the bathroom to change before Bucky could get angrier.
What has Sam gotten him into?
~
“Why’s your hair so messy!” Bucky asked, shoving her out of his way to grab a jar of peanut butter and put in the cart.
“I don’t know how to do it on my own an’ Mr. Barnes kept telling me to hurry up.”
Her voice was so small and if Bucky wasn’t so infuriated by the situation he would’ve felt bad for how he spoke to her.
“You’d think you’d actually look decent enough after taking forever to get ready.” Bucky huffed.
She remained silent, looking down and closing in on herself.
“Do you eat this?” Bucky asked, waving a box of corn flakes in front of her.
“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky nodded, throwing the box in the cart.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop saying my name so much?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Barn-” Bucky’s cold stare stopped the word on her tongue.
“Call me Bucky.”
He didn’t want her to call him Bucky. But if that Mrs. Morrison was visiting tomorrow she couldn’t know he made her speak to him formally.
“Bucky?”
“Bucky.”
“Yes, Bucky.” She smiled shyly, feeling one step closer to the man.
Bucky didn’t know his life would turn upside down so fast.
He never cared about grocery shopping because he didn’t need that much stuff and he mostly ate at restaurants or diners or bought take out. He mainly just had beer filling his fridge.
But with her tied to him now he was buying all kinds of food: fresh vegetables and fruits, juice boxes, snack bars and way too many Oreos. Not to mention the toiletries he had to pay for because aside from her tooth and hair brushes, she came with nothing.
“Bucky, can we please get this?” she asked, pointing to a stuffed white wolf.
“No, you already have one at home. I see it every night.”
“Please, Bucky, please. Pretty please,” she begged, giving puppy eyes and pressing her palms together even.
“Okay, fine, shut up. God!” Bucky grumpily put the toy in the cart and got them to the nearest cashier before she could pick anything else.
She was so happy and was going to cherish her new stuffie more than ever.
~
Bucky was pacing back and forth in the living room. He needed to find a way to convince her not to tell Mrs. Morrison or whatever her name was how he treated her.
He didn’t want her to know she had any type of power over him because of the situation.
Bucky definitely wasn’t going to say please, but he also knew he couldn’t scare her into saying what he wanted.
“Bucky, please go to bed. Wolfie can’t sleep.” She whined, hugging her newest stuffie to her heart.
Bucky gave her yet another hard glare. She made him so angry that sometimes he forgot how to function. She was so spoiled and oblivious.
“I won’t say anything to Mrs. Morrison,” she whispered.
“You think I care what you have to say?! They could take you right now for all I care!” Bucky replied angrily.
“I know…” she mumbled, “I don’t want them to.”
Her words left Bucky without a reply. He was confused. She didn’t want to leave? Why not? Bucky hasn’t said one kind word to her since she’s been entrusted to him.
Was she some type of masochist?
“I wanna stay with Bucky. Sing him lullabies and eat noodles with him,” she said, her voice soft and heavy with sleep, before her eyes shut as she drifted off.
Her words put Bucky at ease for now and he got on the floor to finally try to get some sleep. He tried to ignore the way they affected him though.
~
“Bucky,” she called gently.
“Hmm.”
“I need to shower,” came her timid whisper.
“Do you see me using the bathroom?! Help yourself.” Bucky huffed, stirring the sugar in his mug.
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?!” he snapped, throwing the spoon in the sink.
“I need Bucky’s help.” Her face was on fire with embarrassment of having to say this out loud.
“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing his mug aside before grabbing her arm and pushing her to the bathroom.
She whimpered as they stood before the glass door of the shower.
“This, because you’re not stupid you’re just age regressed, opens the hot water.” Bucky pointed to the tap handle on the right. “This opens the cold water. And this-”
“Bucky, that’s not what I need help with.” She shook her head, biting down on her lip.
“What do you want from me then?!” Bucky had no patience and her bashfulness wasn’t helping.
She raised her arms up before whispering, “I need Bucky to gimme a shower.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Bad word.”
“Don’t start now! You don’t know how to shower?!”
She shook her head, pouting as her eyes got teary again, “not when little.”
“This is bullshit. I didn’t even wanna do this. Damn you, Sam Wilson!” Bucky said, walking out of the bathroom angrily as she trailed behind him like the lost puppy she was.
“Bad word.”
“Stop!” Bucky boomed and she put her hands behind her back timidly.
“Please, Bucky,” she begged, getting hold of his hand.
“No! On my dead body!”
~
“Stand straight or I swear I’m gonna leave you here and go!”
“Yes, Bucky,” she giggled, the water trickling down her spine tickling her.
“Now what?” he huffed, trying not to stare at her naked chest.
“Now, this.” She held up the bottle of conditioner for him and Bucky sighed before taking it and squeezing some on his hand.
He was about to smooth it down her scalp when she moved away.
“No, no! This goes on the ends or else it gives you dandruff,” She said and Bucky would’ve facepalmed so hard if it wasn’t for the slippery matter covering his palms.
This was going to be long.
~
She was fast asleep on Bucky’s couch after her shower, so peaceful and without a care in the world.
Bucky envied her as he got in place on the floor. He really wished he had enough flexibility in him to accept help and care from someone.
But no, he didn't need her. He didn't need any of this. He just had to go through tomorrow and the rest will figure itself out.
Yeah, yeah just tomorrow for now, Bucky thought as he drifted off.
part II
~
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𝘐 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘛𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘺 (𝘖𝘳 𝘋𝘰.)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You’d never understood why Bucky never seemed interested in physical intimacy. When you find out, you realize it goes deeper than you ever thought.
Note: For my ‘Don’t Touch Me’ square on my @marvel-smash-bingo card!
Warnings: rape/non-con, sexual abuse, nightmares, ptsd, Hydra Themes, implied Hydra Trash Party, insecure!reader(?), crying, angst.
[Series Masterlist]
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Your sex life was not bad in these last few months you’ve been dating Bucky. That wasn’t to say it was particularly good, either.
You hadn’t had sex with him at all. You hadn’t even got past a little bit of making out. And there was nothing wrong with that, either. Maybe he was just shy. And he was a real quiet guy when he was around anybody but you, so you knew that that was a possibility.
He was also born in 1917, so there could be just more of an awkwardness around the topic for him. You obviously had no idea what Sex Ed was like in the 1930s, but you knew that it definitely wasn’t great.
Maybe he just wasn’t interested in sex at all. And that was perfectly fine, too. He could be asexual. Or gray-asexual. Or demisexual. And you were by no means a homophobe. If he wasn’t into it, he wasn’t into it and that was that. You would certainly not be upset or—God forbid—angry over something like that.
But the thing that plagued your mind after he ran off somewhere after kissing you for a little too long was the why. He’d never said a word about sexual attraction—you’d never had that conversation before. You didn’t really know how to bring it up.
Part of you wondered if you were the problem. Was he just not attracted to you? Was there just one tiny detail on you that completely made him not want you in that way? Fuck, did you smell bad?
You pushed the thought away. But you did know that you needed to have this discussion with him. Mainly in case that last reason was it.
As if right on cue, he walked into the kitchen of your apartment.
“Hey, doll.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around you and swaying you from side to side.
“Howdy howdy. I didn’t hear you come in.” You grinned. “You’ll give me a heart attack one day.”
“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly.
The rest of the night went on as usual. At least, until halfway through the night—perhaps early morning—when you were awoken by the sound of muttering.
Now, to be very honest, you thought about muttering ‘shut up’ back, before you remembered that you were a real person and not a dinosaur like you’d been dreaming about.
You sat up, looking over at your boyfriend. Another bad dream.
You kneeled above him, opening your mouth to say something to wake him up. And once again, as if on cue, he woke up. He sat up quickly, bonking you in the head with his own skull.
“Fuck—“ You hissed as your eyes watered slightly. “Bucky, you’re okay, you’re okay, it was a dream, it’s over.” You attempted to reassure him as you reached out.
“Don’t touch me,” he pleaded. “Don’t touch me. Please.” The way he said it made your stomach flip.
“I’m not.” You promised. “I won’t. I won’t. You’re okay, you’re safe. It’s me. Jus’ me and you.”
He seemed to relax at that as he laid back down. And then—very surprisingly—fell right back asleep.
Normally his nightmares were more of a major thing, so this was certainly a surprise. You frowned, before you yourself eventually fell back asleep.
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The next morning, you woke up alone, with the faint smell of breakfast coming in through the room. You walked out of your bedroom and to the kitchen, greeting your boyfriend.
“Mornin’,” you hummed.
“Good morning, doll. Did you sleep good?” He asked innocently, as if he didn’t remember the night’s…revelations.
“Yeah.” You murmured back. And then you decided to finally grow some balls and ask.
“Bucky? Can I talk to you about something serious?”
“Sure.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Always, hon. What’s goin’ on?”
“Is there a reason you don’t want to have sex with me?”
He practically turned to stone.
“What?” He croaked out.
“There’s nothing wrong about it! I’m just—it’s stupid. I’m sorry, I’m being an asshole. Never mind—“ You wanted to simultaneously beat the absolute shit out of yourself and bury yourself.
“No, you’re not.” He cut you off. “I—should’ve told you earlier. About this. It’s—it’s not you, I promise. I..I want to have..sex with you and all of that stuff. I do, really. It’s just—there’s..some stuff.”
Your brows furrowed as you took on a concerned and empathetic expression. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s—it’s okay. I do. It’s important to me that I tell you.” He explained. “But—it gets kinda heavy. Are you okay with..hearing all of that?”
You nodded. “Yes, babe. I am.”
“When I was—when I was the Winter Soldier, HYDRA would torture me. You know that. They’d…’punish’ and ‘train’ me in ways that..fucked me up. Clearly. One of those ways was through sex.” He admitted, fiddling with his hands.
Your mouth went dry. You didn’t really know what to say. Or to do, even. Did you comfort him? Say anything at all?
“I know you would never do that to me. I promise—I’m positive and comfortable in the fact that you wouldn’t ever do anything to me without my permission.” He assured you, making eye contact. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that I can say ‘no’ and can make my own decisions without any form of punishment.”
You nodded slowly.
“But it’s just—it’s hard, y’know? Like, how I get all..jumpy and ‘PTSD-y’ on the Fourth of July because of the fireworks. It’s like that, but with..sex, and being naked and stuff like that. It doesn’t have anything to do with the Fourth of July, just like it doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just..a thing that happens in those circumstances.” He explained. “I don’t—I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like this, I promise.”
You could see his nose was getting red and his eyes were beginning to water.
“I don’t want to be broken.” He blinked away some tears, wiping the ones that escaped his eyes with the side of his hand.
“Baby, no. Oh, baby. No, you’re not broken. Honey, you’re not. I promise.” You comforted. You opened your arms for a hug and he wrapped his arms around you.
When he was ready, he continued. “It was mostly men. There weren’t any women in HYDRA up until like..2010. But sometimes they’d sell me—and I mean literally sell me—off to certain powerful women for a variety of purposes. And I didn’t have a choice.” He murmured.
“I know, baby. It wasn’t your fault. None of that was ever your fault.” You said softly.
He nodded slowly. “I do..want that. I want to do that with you, it’s just—it’s hard.”
“I know. Thank you for telling me. And we can take it slow. And if you realize you’re not into it at all—no shame. No judgement. Not from me.” You promised.
He nodded. “Dr. Raynor—when she was my therapist she..she uh, pushed on the subject.” He confessed. Your brows furrowed.
“She what?”
“I was mad about it then. And I still think she could’ve gone about it in better ways, but she gave me something useful, so..at least there’s that.” He hummed. “She suggested showering and taking baths together. For..non-sexual intimacy.”
“You wanna try that?” You met his eyes, the beautiful blue eyes that captivated you.
He nodded slowly. “If you're comfortable with it, yeah.”
“Okay. We can try that, babe.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“I love you.” He murmured. You’d heard him say it before, you’d worked your way up to it, but neither one of you really wanted to hold back that feeling from each other.
“I love you too. No matter what.” You swore.
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A/n: two Oneshots on the same day? Shocking, I know. Really wanted to bring hydra trash party and reader insert fics together. This was low key inspired by me and an ex (we’re on good terms dw), and it feels very important to me.
Please reblog if you enjoyed!
Sequel here!
dividers by @saradika-graphics
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holylulusworld · 3 months
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Dinner for three
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Summary: You and your husband eat together to celebrate something special  
Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, pregnant reader
Catch up here: Dinner for two
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“The usual?” The hostess chuckles at the insider joke. “Your table is ready, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.” She guides you toward your table. “I hope you’ll like our new menu. We have a few new desserts.”
“New desserts,” you hum. “Maybe I’ll try something new tonight. What do you recommend?” 
Bucky chuckles next to you. He knows you’ve got a sweet tooth when it comes to desserts. 
“Oh, I’d recommend the new tiramisu with cherries. Not everyone likes it, but it tastes like heaven. It’s alcohol-free too if you do not like your tiramisu with alcohol.” 
Bucky pulls the chair for you, still smiling as you keep on talking to the hostess. He pecks your cheek and whispers something only you can hear.
“I love cherries,” you exclaim. “And it’s a plus that the dessert is alcohol-free. I do not like alcohol in a dessert.”
“We already decided on the dessert then,” he says and sits down to have a look at the menu. “What about the main course, doll? Salmon maybe or lasagna?”
You grin. “The usual please, Clarice,” you say before Bucky gets the chance to decide on what to eat. I’ll take the chicken parmesan and my husband will take the usual.”
“You know me so well,” he grins and closes the menu. Bucky gently grabs your hand to bring it to his lips. “It’s been five years since we first met here. I can’t believe I met the love of my life by chance at my favorite restaurant after I got stood up.”
“Mr. Barnes are you trying to seduce me with your charm and pretty smile,” you chuckle. “You know we are already married, right?”
“This doesn’t mean that I’ll stop complimenting you, Y/N,” he flashes you a smile. “I got a surprise for you too, baby doll. I want to celebrate our anniversary.”
“I want to celebrate something too, baby. It’s a surprise,” you return his smile and bat your eyelashes. “I think this is the perfect moment. But let’s eat first. I’m starving.”
“What? No…you can’t just do things like that and leave me hanging, Y/N,” he pouts, making your resolve crumble. “Please tell me.” Bucky is giddy like a child when you refuse to tell him about the surprise.
You will take your time and wait for the perfect moment. For now, you are damn hungry and want to enjoy dinner with the man you love.
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“…and then you just sat down and had dinner with me and my bear,” you giggle at the memory. “If you think about it, I should’ve thanked my unfaithful ex for cheating on me. If he wasn’t such a horrid person, we’d never met.”
“I’ll send him a gift hamper,” Bucky smirks and dips his head to watch you get something out of your bag, “but instead of confect or wine, he’ll get a turd, so he knows he’s a piece of shit.” He whispers the last part. 
“James Buchanan Barnes!” You raise your index finger. “You won’t poop into a gift hamper. That’s not…” You struggle not to laugh. “We should stop talking about my ex. I have a surprise I wanted to share with you.”
“Before dessert?” He asks. 
You open your hand to reveal a business card with his name on it. Bucky cocks a brow when you place the card on the table and shove it toward him. “What’s this?”
“I made your new business cards,” you casually say. “Why don’t you read it? I chose a nice font, and the paper is eco-friendly. Maybe you should read your new title first.”
“New font, huh?” Bucky wonders aloud as he looks at the business card. “Hmm…James Buchanan Barnes, best soon-to-be dad in the world.” He swallows audibly. “Is this real?”
“I got to know this morning,” You get a tiny shirt saying Daddy luvs me out. “I didn’t feel well over the last days, and I was overdue.” You lick your lips. Bucky and you talked about having children, but now you are a little nervous. “I was seeing my gynecologist and they confirmed that I’m five weeks pregnant.”
“I-“ he looks at the tiny shirt. “Really?” Bucky hiccups. “You are not joking?” He jumps up, knocking his chair over to pounce on you. Bucky wraps you in his arms and whispers your name.
“Buck, are you happy? I know this is sudden and—” Bucky cups your face and presses his lips.
“More than happy, baby doll,” he smiles, and tears are in his eyes. “I guess this means we are having dinner for three soon.”
“We already have dinner for three, baby. They are with us, and enjoyed every bite,” he laughs and kisses you again.
“Dinner for three,” he whispers. “I can’t wait to tell them our story…”
Part 4
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queers-gambit · 21 days
Text
Damage Done
prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 5.4k+
note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?
warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, established relationship, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.
it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.
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"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.
"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.
"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"
"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"
"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.
"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"
"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.
"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"
"What's that matter - "
"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "
"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.
"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."
"So?"
"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"
"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.
"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "
"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.
"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."
"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.
"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "
"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.
"Neither would Bucky."
The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.
You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.
Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"
"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.
"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.
"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.
"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."
"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.
He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.
"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.
You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.
There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...
"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"
He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."
"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.
"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"
"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.
"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"
"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."
Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"
"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."
"An equal partnership, would you say?"
"Yes."
"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.
"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."
You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"
"She keeps me safe."
Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"
"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.
"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.
"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"
"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.
"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."
"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"
"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."
"The fuck does that - "
But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"
"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.
"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"
The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.
"Longing."
"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.
"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.
"Rusted."
"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.
"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"
"Seventeen."
"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.
"Daybreak!"
"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"
He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.
"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.
"Nine!"
"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.
"Benign!"
"You stupid fucking little man!"
Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"
"DON'T!"
"Freight car!"
You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.
"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.
What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.
In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"
And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."
Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."
You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.
It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.
Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.
"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.
"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"
"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.
When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"
"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.
"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.
"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"
He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."
"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"
"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.
"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."
"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.
"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.
"I know - "
"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."
"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.
"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "
You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.
"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.
"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."
Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.
He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.
You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.
Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"
"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.
You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"
"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.
"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.
Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.
"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"
"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.
"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"
"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."
"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."
"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."
"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."
"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."
"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.
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Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.
You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"
"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.
"No..."
"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.
"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"
"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."
"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."
"I'm sorry, Buck."
"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"
"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."
"She didn't want to come here?"
Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."
"I didn't mean to hurt her."
"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."
Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."
"Gotta agree with you there."
"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."
You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.
"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"
"I'm okay."
"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"
"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."
"I still hurt you, I still did it."
"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."
"I can smell the fear on you."
"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."
"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."
"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."
He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"
"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"
"What's that, doll?"
"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."
His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."
"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."
"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."
"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."
"You and I, both..."
You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."
"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."
You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."
"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."
"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."
"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"
"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."
His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.
"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."
"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."
Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."
"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"
"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."
"You might regret that."
"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."
"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."
"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."
"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."
"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.
"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."
"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."
Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.
"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.
"I do."
"Is it still unregistered?"
"You know it is. Who're we calling?"
"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."
"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"
"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."
When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.
"Always. Got my six?"
"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."
"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."
"Hmm? For what, handsome?"
"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."
You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."
"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."
"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."
He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Marvel masterlist
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bloodynereid · 1 month
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Navy Blue Ink Part 2
part 1
pairing: major john 'bucky' egan x fem! reader
tw: swearing, kissing, fluff, mentions of war and death, historical/military inaccuracies, yh not much else it's pretty sweet
description: john makes it back home to his angel.
a/n: first off, i wanted to say thank you for how nice and incredible this fandom has been and the response to the first part just made me heart burst. i hope this still does john justice and that you enjoy this little reunion fic. once again this is solely based on the show's characters and not the real people!
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You stood anxiously at the side of the airfield. A letter clutched in your left hand and a leash in your right. Ghost nudged his head against your pant covered leg, making you look down at your companion.
“I’m alright, boy. Just a bit nervous.” He barked in response and an easy smile fell on your face. After the announcement that war had ended a heavy weight that had been placed on your shoulders seemed to disappear. You had beat those German bastards and now your best friend was coming home.
It was a few weeks before the end of the war that a letter arrived for you. Its date was a few days old but a feeling of euphoria washed through your body when you noticed John’s spiky handwriting.
He was alive.
Dear Y/N,
I don’t think you understand how happy I was to hear from you. I do not know if this letter will reach you or if you will ever read it but I needed to write this. I’m also sorry for not writing for so long and for not getting back to you.
I am alive, somehow. I made it out of a POW camp and I’m back at base. I can’t write about the specifics yet but I needed you to know that I miss you terribly. You were the one light while I was there. You gave me hope when everything was starting to dull to gray, and I don’t know if I can ever repay you.
I don’t know when I’ll be back but you should know that I will be back. God I miss you. I wrote that already didn’t I?
Buck’s fine. A little scraped up, but we all are. He can’t wait to meet you, says I talk too much about you that he basically knows you already. I hope to see you soon again, angel. You better introduce me to the love of your life too, I might need to officiate the wedding… or maybe Ghost needs a best man huh?
Yours,
John Egan
That letter restored a feeling of hope that encompassed your entire body. He was alive. John Egan was alive.
You held onto that feeling for a long while. Keeping the letter tucked into the pocket of your jacket so you could carress the paper when everything was feeling like too much. Until that fateful day when a short telegram was handed to you at work. It was filled with a few words that made your heart beat even faster than you thought it could.
Coming soon. Meet. Airfield. 16.00
So there you stood, at the airfield waiting for your best friend to come back, for the love of your life to come back (sorry Ghost).
You scratched behind Ghost’s ear when a distant noise made you perk up. An airplane. Squinting in the late afternoon soon a distinct shape appeared in the sky. He surely had to be on that plane.
Checking your watch confirmed it, it was 16:05 and he was right on time. Albeit a little late but that was John alright.
You watched with nervous excitement as the plane touched down and stopped near the tower. A group of families were all standing beside you, anxiously awaiting a glimpse of the people they had missed beyond belief.
Standing and waiting as everyone got to hug their loved ones was a special kind of torture. That was until you saw a glimpse of those beautiful brown curls and the face that you had missed so dearly.
“John? John!” The face turned towards you and a delighted grin overtook your face as you started to run towards him, with Ghost right on your heels.
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John was beyond tired. The past few weeks had been a time for recovery and yet he didn’t feel like himself quite yet. Who knew if he would ever feel like that again? The plane ride back made him feel like a whole other set of nerves had taken control of his body.
He was about to see his girl, his angel and he had no idea what he would do, or rather if he could control his reaction to her. The photograph she first sent to him in those precious letters was carefully tucked into his jacket pocket and he was itching to get it out and just look at her once again.
Maybe she wasn’t even waiting for him. Maybe she hadn’t gotten his telegram. The one he quickly had someone send out for him after he had said his goodbyes to Buck in Florida. God what if she was busy and he didn’t have her address to find her and-
His barrage of thoughts was cut off when he felt the plane hit the runway. Fuck, it’s time. Once he was given the all clear, he quickly gathered his full belongings and started to set out of the plane.
John felt the familiar smell of Wisconsin fill his nose. Home. It smelt like home. The airfield was lit in the glow of the sun and John felt alright for the first time in a while. He was safe.
“John? John!” The sweet sound of a voice so familiar was calling to him. Just as he turned John felt arms encase him and you were suddenly all around him.
He let himself just feel for a few moments before he dropped his bags and hugged you right back just as strongly. What he wouldn’t do to stay in your arms for the rest of his life. To feel your warmth surrounding him and never letting him go.
“Angel? God, I think I might be in heaven.” John whispered into your ear, making a tearful laugh come from your mouth as you let your arms drop from around him. Finally getting a proper look at your Bucky.
“Heaven? Nah, you’re in good old Wisconsin, Bucky.”
“I think that’s my version of heaven right now, darling.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I missed you John.” You whispered as you looked at him. You noticed how he had changed, how he had hardened but he was still the man you fell in love with, even if he didn’t know it.
“I guarantee that I missed you more.”
“Oh really?” John hummed back in agreement as he also took his time to take you in. Take in the little changes in your face, the way your eyes shined as you looked at him and the smile on your face. The most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
“I really love you.” John whispered, pouring his entire being, his entire soul into those words. Your eyes widened, this felt different from all those times when he had uttered it drunk into your ears as kids. This felt like something more. Something you had waited to hear for far too long.
John felt something in him shatter as he watched different emotions flash over your face. He made a mistake. He should have stayed quiet and just hugged you. Just been there for you.
“I love you too, John Egan. I love you more than you can imagine.” 
That thing that shattered within John seemed to remake itself. Like a wound stitching itself back together. He stepped impossibly closer to you and brushed his lips hesitantly over yours, warmth blooming in both of your chests as the hesitant pressure became more stronger and more assured.
What you both didn’t account for was the loud bark that came from behind you. The two of you broke apart and John looked over to Ghost with a chuckle. The damn dog he wished to be all those months ago was standing before him looking mighty pleased with himself.
“So the famous love of your life?”
“Shut up, John. You know there is only one man worthy of that title.”
“And who would that be?”
“You, you stupid, beautiful man.”
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and... that's the end wow. i'll probably write some more stuff for mota so look out for that <3
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wintersoldiersoul · 6 months
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Afterglow
A/N: Final part to the Tolerate it mini series!! Thank you all for the support on this series, I've had so much fun writing it and I hope you enjoy!
 It had been 5 days. 5 days since you were shot. 5 days since Bucky had seen your eyes, had heard your voice, and 5 days since he had gotten more than an hour of sleep at a time. He stayed next to you in your bed at the medbay where you lay unconscious. You had pulled through, for now at least. Bruce had performed emergency surgery on the jet on the way home to stabilize you until he and Helen could get you into an actual operating room.
You flatlined on the table. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor turned into one long tone as your life was whisked away. Steve had to hold Bucky back from breaking down the door of the O.R. as the horrible sound flowed to the other room. It took them 3 minutes to resuscitate you. The worst 3 minutes of Bucky’s entire life. Worse than any moment he had spent with HYDRA. But you fought. You pulled through the surgery. Now, you just had to wake up.
Bucky hadn’t left your side. Steve brought him food, knowing he wouldn’t take the time to go make himself something. After the third day, Helen brought him a bed to sleep in. Not that he was even sleeping anyway.
“How’s she doing?” Steve asked, walking in.
Bucky sighed and rubbed his eyes. “No change. She’s still stable but-” his voice broke. “What if she doesn’t wake up, Steve?” He looked into the eyes of his best friend.
Steve placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. “She’s gonna wake up. Your girl’s a fighter.”
“I don’t even know if she’s still my girl,” Bucky whispered. “God, I wasted so much time! I fucked everything up. This is my fault.”
“It’s not your fault that she got hurt,” Steve responded.
“Yes it is! If we had still been together, maybe I could have convinced her to stay back on this mission. It was too dangerous.” 
Your eyes slowly started to open as he spoke but he didn’t notice since his head was in his hands.
“I could have stopped her. I could have protected her better,” he continued.
“Too…stubborn. Couldn’t have…stopped me,” you croaked. Your voice was raspy from 5 days of silence.
At the sound of your voice, Bucky immediately picked his head up. “Oh my god,” he grabbed your hand and kneeled at the side of your bed, stroking your hair. “Oh my god, Y/N,” fresh tears spilled down his cheeks.
“Bucky,” you whispered. “You look like shit.”
He laughed through his tears. So typical of you, of the girl he loved. Always sassy, even in crisis. He kissed your hand over and over again, still not believing that this was real and not a dream. 
The next day, you were released from the medbay but instructed to stay on bedrest for at least a week. You were just happy to be in the comfort of an actual bed. 
Bucky waited on you hand and foot as soon as you were brought back up to your room. “What do you need?” He asked, hands on his hips. He was ready to spring into action.
“Water, please. And maybe something to eat. Something small.”
He nodded and immediately left the room, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water and a grilled cheese. “Here,” he said, setting the glass on the table and handing you the plate. “I made you a grilled cheese. I know it's your comfort food.”
“Thank you, Bucky,” you answered. An awkward silence fell over the two of you. Technically, the two of you weren’t back together. Your confessions of love as you were dying didn’t automatically mean that he was your boyfriend again.
“Y/N,” he finally said. “I was so scared when you were shot. You were bleeding out in my arms and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I thought I was gonna lose you for good. Do you remember what I said to you?”
You smiled softly. “That we were gonna get married and adopt a bunch of cats?” 
He nodded. “Yes. I meant every word I said. I want a life with you, beautiful. I want to get married in the Fall like you’ve always talked about and I want to get us a nice house and fill it with kids and animals and grow old with you. I wanna give you everything.”
You sat, looking at him. Nothing he said would ever erase the hurt he put you through. But despite yourself, you still loved him more than anything. You wanted that life with him. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He echoed. “Really? You’ll let me be yours again?” His eyes lit up.
“Yes, Bucky,” you smiled. “But you can never pull that shit again, do you understand me? I don’t need you to protect me from yourself. I’m a big girl. I’ll never need to be protected from you, I just need to love you. Fucked up past and all.” 
“Oh, angel,” he looked at you lovingly. “I know I’m never gonna be able to take back what I did. But I can spend the rest of our lives showering you with love and showing how much you mean to me. I promise I will never do that again. But you need to promise me something, too.” He took a deep breath. “Never almost die again, okay? I was so fucking scared.”
You blinked back tears at the pure emotion and love for him that you felt. “I promise.” 
The whole time you were healing, Bucky didn’t leave you alone. He got you whatever you needed, even buying a little bell for you to ring. He knew he’d regret that immediately but he wanted to make this misery a little bit better for you. You were obsessive with it, abusing the power he had given you.
“Bucky!” you would call, ringing the bell. 
He would sprint into your bedroom, flour on his face from the cookies he was baking for you. “Yes, honey?”
“Kiss me.” And he would. 
A few weeks later, you were able to leave the house for a couple hours at a time. You were in the passengers seat of the car with Bucky behind the wheel, driving you to an undisclosed location.
“Are you kidnapping me, Bucky Barnes?” You asked when he refused to give up the location you were headed.
“Patience, baby,” he smirked, keeping his eyes on the road.
20 minutes later, you pulled up to a large farmhouse. The outside was white and it had vines growing up the sides. It was the kind of place you had always dreamed of living.
“Bucky this house is beautiful but what are we doing here?” You laughed. 
“You like it?”
“It’s my dream house. I’ve always wanted to live in a place like this.”
He looked deep into your eyes. “I’m so glad, honey. Cause it’s ours.”
You blinked at him, not sure if you heard his words correctly. “Wait, what?”
“This is our home, beautiful. I bought it for us.” 
You were speechless. The house in front of you was the kind of place you had wanted to live in since you were a child. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.” 
After he walked you around the interior, he led you out to the backyard. It was stunning. String lights hung from wooden beams, there was a fire pit and a wood fired pizza oven, and flowers perfectly landscaping the grass. Your eyes gazed over everything, not noticing Bucky shifting his position beside you.
You gasped as your eyes found their way back to him, kneeling on one knee.
“Y/n,” he began. “My beautiful angel. The love of my life. My reason for living. We’ve been through so much together. My past isn’t perfect. I’m far from perfect. I’ve done a lot of horrible things. But somewhere in my life, I must have done something good. Because I met you. And by some karmic intervention, you let me love you.” Tears overflowed from your eyes as he spoke. “Baby, will you marry me?”
You nodded your head enthusiastically. “Yes, of course, yes,” you cried. He slipped a ring onto your finger. “When did you even get this? You’ve been glued to my side since the mission.”
He smiled and kissed you passionately. “You wanna know something, baby? Remember when you heard Steve say that I had been looking at rings? Well, I wasn’t just looking,” he beamed. “I’ve been carrying this around in my pocket every day for months now. Just incase the opportunity ever presented itself.”
“Oh, Buck,” you gasped, hugging him tightly into you. “I love you, Bucky Barnes. My fiancé.”
“Ooh I like how that sounds,” he laughed. “I love you too. Forever.”
Taglist: @differenttyphoonwerewolf @jamesbuckybarnes1917 @learisa @mollygetssherlockcoffee @almosttoopizza @kandis-mom
@spookyparadisesheep @vicmc624 @aesthetic0cherryblossom @kjah97 @elizalexwil @scmoobly @wayward-gypsy @sarah1barnes
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dungeonpuppykai · 11 months
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|| Bliss ||
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Description: What happens when a spoiled and disgraced Princess is handed off to an ex-Winter Soldier as a strategy for the royal family to be rid of her and ensure the Soldier's loyalty to them at the same time?
Pairing: Dark Ex-Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Brat Princess!Reader.
Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier arc. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.
Warning(s): Dub-con, Dark!Bucky, arranged marriage, Brat!Reader, Brat Tamer!Bucky, spanking, exhibitionism, degradation, fingering, hair pulling, dumfication, pet names, blow job, gagging, choking, cock warming.
Note: Thank you all so so much for the love on this story! You have no idea how dear I hold it and each and every one of you to my heart! Muah!! <333 The chapter is unedited, I am sorry </3 Also, I did my best to tag everyone and if anyone got left out I am very sorry this story is my first time doing these lists and I am not very good at them 🩷
STORY MASTERLIST 
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IV
"Did you put on that show at breakfast for the Queen to see, sweets?" James raised an eyebrow at his wife after he joined her at the backseat of the SUV that would drive them to their part of the Kingdom. 
She had refused to bid farewell to anyone after behaving quite well at breakfast upon his order, or rather, threat that he had given her when they had had their bath in the morning.
James would not tolerate being husband to an out of control wife. He knew exactly how to put a leash on little deviants such as Her Highness.
Then Y/n had acted like nothing was out of the ordinary, nodding obediently when he informed her that the cars were ready for them and his men before exiting the Palace whilst her family had watched her back expectantly.
"What are you talking about, James?" The bride from last night was barely there anymore as she lied through her teeth. His jaw ticked. "I have no idea whatever you mean." 
The man sighed, sitting back as he shook his head and hooked an arm around her back. "Now, what did I tell you about lying to me last night?" She was staring out the window but he could tell she was pouting. 
"I am not." 
Oh, he was going to have so much fun crushing this pathetic little brat of his.
James clicked his tongue. "So you are lying to your husband after you used him like a disposable pawn in your little game with your mother-"
"Step-mother" the Princess corrected him, turning around to look him in the eyes with her agitated ones.
He raised an eyebrow. "So you are admitting it, then?"
"I didn't do it to disrespect you" her eyes turned soft and eyebrows furrowed worriedly. "I just-"
The Chief clicked his tongue. "Come on up" his vibranium hand patted his lap. "Little girls like you cannot just make and execute their own decisions. You need to learn your place." 
Her bottom lip jutted out. "But–"
"Butts get spanked and fucked, come on" his words made a blush and giggle burst out and into her shy hands unexpectedly. For both. He hadn't meant to say it. It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
James wasn't a boy that said things like these.
But he still did.
And her response made it worth it.
He could get used to this.
"James!"
Was he trying to compensate for the centuries long generational gap?
For her?
"I haven't even done anything and you're already this worked up" the embarrassment on her shy face worked him up in the best way. Her real self was so different from the facade she put up. So easy. So soft. So fragile to crush and plunder. "Tsk, Mrs. Barnes. What am I going to do with you, hm?" His hand pushed at her ass. 
"Not too painful, please?" Y/n batted her lashes at him prettily. 
The driver was so uncomfortable James could sense it. But he dared not glance at them through the rearview mirror. He wouldn't. If he cared to keep his eyes and head. 
"Stalling will only add to your punishment, sweets." A small whine left her as she pouted and crawled his lap begrudgingly with her head lowered. 
"No fair" she whispered so softly under her breath that it made her gasp when he responded. 
There would be a lot of getting used to to an enhanced man.
"I'll tell you what isn't fair." Pushing her dress up to her waist, James placed his non-human arm over her back to press her in place. "What isn't fair is lying to me when I have been nothing but a good husband to you" spanking both her clothed cheeks at the same time, he peeled her underwear off. "What isn't fair is you using me as a pawn to deny your step-mother her satisfaction" a loud whine filled the air when he rained down spanks on her already hurt and bruised bottom. 
"James, please! Husband, please! It hurts so much!" Y/n's legs kicked in defense, ass trying to dodge his hits. 
"It hurts, does it?" He feigned surprise, removing his arm from her back to hold her by the hair at the back of her head, pulling it closer so he could whisper in her ear. "Then why are you so wet, baby?" James' eyes were trained on the rearview mirror, watching the nervous driver carefully to make sure he wouldn't steal a glance. 
No one except him could see his wife in this state.
"You've made such a mess on my hand, look" moving her head by her hair to allow her an easier view of his hand that he had been spanking her with, the Chief showed her his wet fingers. "Tsk, what a dirty little girl I have here."
Y/n blushed and bit her lip, embarrassed yet aroused. "Please…"
"Please what, hm?" Letting go of her hair, his hand now reached for her throat for a better grip, still holding her face close to his lips. "Need husband to take care of you?" A smirk made it's way on his face when she whimpered in response to his other hand caressing her sensitive ass. 
"... Y- Yes, please…" Biting her lip, the Princess pushed her ass up and into the Chief's fingers when they travelled down the crack of her ass, resting at her wet entrance. 
"Here?"
"Yes!" It was pulsating with need. "Yes, please, James! Right there!" 
The man's digits circled and rounded her entrance like a beast does its prey, coating themselves in her slick before spreading it over her touch-starved folds. Lewd hums and moans started to flow out of the girl's mouth in response, hips swaying and fingers gripping the man's thigh.
"You love being dominated and put in your place, don't you?" The super soldier snickered, feeling a shiver run down his spine at the erotic gasp that ripped it's way out of his wife when he finally allowed her the aid of a finger inside her wet ring of muscles. "I knew it, it's always naughty little brats like you who rile people up desperately just so someone can come along and beat some manners into their pathetic holes." His dirty talk was making her insides flutter, droplets of cold sweat decorating her temples as one ran down the side of her face.
The girl was too far gone to care or notice whe her husband moved her out of the way, momentarily letting go of her neck which made her collapse against his thighs, fucking herself on his fingers softly as her eyes fluttered shut. 
"Come here" grabbing a hold of her head by her hair again, the man guided it to his hard cock. "Look at what you do to me, sweets." Her confused and surprised face was inches from his thick and tall cock as James peered down at her. "Now you must be a good wife and take care of it."
"What-" 
"Tsk, aren't you the most precious and dumb little wife?" Y/n was starting to like how he crooned at her. "Needs her husband to teach her everything." Clicking his tongue, he added a second finger to her tight pussy. "Open up, baby. Let me see that pretty sucker" holding her cheeks between his hands hurriedly, the man pushed them open, causing a tiny O to form between her lips through which he pushed the tip of his cock inside but moving his hips. 
"Princess…" James called out warningly when she jumped up in response, trying to move away only to freeze at his tone, peeking up at him through her lashes with questioning eyes as he explored her oral cavity bit by bit till he was properly inside. "That's it, baby" the man praised, biting back a moan when she gagged in response to his tip tickling the back of her throat. "Fuck. This is perfect. You're such a fine set of wet little holes." 
Speeding up the movements of his fingers inside her pussy, he guided her face up and down his cock by his other hand, hips aiding the process as he tried not to but still made her gag and choke with each thrust. 
The car filled with sounds of slapping, choking, squelching, gagging, cursing and moaning as it ran smoothly on the highway roads, the driver using all his willpower to not look back or act bothered, ignoring the headache hurting his eyes. 
"Hnnnmmmm~" The Princess moaned against James' cock, hips bucking up as she finally climaxed, her shudders and grunts sending vibrations down the man's cock and adding to the heat that was settling in his own abdomen. 
He was close but it wasn't until Y/n unintentionally placed her hand on his ballsack to try and brace herself against the face fucking that had turned quite brutal that her husband collapsed, cursing loudly as he came down her throat, causing her to choke which made her nose ooze out some of his seed. 
"You better… fucking… swallow every drop." The man warned, his chest burning at how perfect she looked with mouth full of his cock, mascara smudging her face and nose decorated with his cum. Keeping his fingers buried in her cunt, James put her worked up face down against his lap, a hand gently placed behind her head to keep her in place with her mouth still stuffed full of him. 
"Keep it there and don't move" he panted, feeling her widened nostrils exhale out overwhelmed breaths as she had no choice but to cockwarm him with her mouth. "This will teach you your true place." Pressing a kiss to the exhausted girl's head, he whispered in her ear. "Between my legs with your cute sucker full of my cock."
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Tag list <3: @darkserenity24 @darkghostfairy @bonkybarnes106 @gloriouspurpose01 @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @kandis-mom @jjmaybankslittleslut @braverthanthenewworld @princezzjasmine @angiestopit @nd264 @yourdryadwife @ireneop @marvel-fandom23 @imsonick @smut-reader @ashovertheriver @candybabysworld @sebastians-love @jessicaloons @neeezza101
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scoonsalicious · 26 days
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Unwanted: Chapter 9, Unselfish - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of past trauma, Pocket's self esteem issues.
Word Count: 1.8k
Previously On...: Jade's really doing her best in insert herself into Bucky's life. After forgetting all about you when he walked off with her at Central Park, you and Bucky have a talk, and he seems to see where you're coming from. Hopefully, you've reached an understanding.
A/N: FINALLY! Some quality Pepper Potts. I weirdly love writing her, for some reason, and she played a larger part in my original draft of this story, so I am so happy to finally give her some time to shine. To everyone getting hit by the Nor'Easter this weekend, I feel you. Currently snowed in and freezing. It's supposed to be Spring, damnit!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff
The next day, you called upon the one person you knew had been in your shoes and you hoped could help you make sense of your emotions. You knocked on the door of Pepper’s office, letting yourself in when she called out an invitation to enter.
“Pocket!” She put down the file she was perusing and stood up, walking around her desk to embrace you. “To what do I owe the pleasure, honey?”
“Hey, Pep,” you said, returning her hug with all the affection you felt for her. “Do you have a minute? I was hoping to talk to you about something.”
“For you?” she asked, motioning for you to sit in one of the armchairs that sat near the windows. “Always.” She called for her assistant to bring you both a pot of tea and you made idle small talk while you waited for it to arrive.
“So,” she said once her assistant brought the tea and poured you both a cup, then  departed with orders to hold all Pepper’s calls, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Is it business or personal?”
“Personal,” you told her, taking a sip of the Earl Grey.
“Did something happen with you and Bucky?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. “Did he do something?”
“No,” you laughed, though there was no real humor in it. “God, no. Bucky’s been perfect. I’m worried that I’m the problem.” You put your cup down and looked at her. “Pep, when you and Tony first got together, how did you handle it?”
Pepper leaned back in her chair. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, honey. Tony’s given me a lot to handle over the years.”
You snickered at that. “Yeah, fair enough,” you said. “I guess I’m not really sure how to word this. We both know that, before you, Tony was a… well…”
“A giant slut?” Pepper offered.
“I was going to say something like ‘amorously adventurous’, but yeah, ‘giant slut’ also works,” you said with a laugh. “Even after you two became an official couple, women were still throwing themselves at him. How… how did you deal with it? Sometimes I just get so angry, so jealous, I want to scream. I hate feeling like this.”
Pepper reached across the coffee table and took your hand in hers. “Oh, honey,” she said, her voice conveying her sympathy. “I’m going to tell you something that took me a lot of time and pain to learn: You can’t control what other people are going to do. I won’t lie to you, it wasn’t easy for me. Every woman who made a pass at Tony, I kept thinking ‘she’s prettier, she’s smarter, she’s younger; why would he choose me when he could have any or all of them?’"
“But,” you began, “you’re Pepper Fucking Potts. You’re amazing.” The thought distressed you. If someone as absolutely wonderful as Pepper struggled like that, what hope was there for you?
“That’s what Tony said.” Pepper offered you a wistful smile. “I had to realize that it didn’t matter what any of those other women did, how they threw themselves at him. The only thing that mattered was how Tony reacted to them, and whether or not I trusted him. And I trusted him. So, you have to ask yourself: Do you trust Bucky?”
You nodded fervently. “With my life,” you said.
“No offense,” Pepper began, “but he’s your teammate. Yes, you trust him with your life, but you could say the same about Thor, or Clint, or even Rhodey. Do you trust him with your heart?”
“I do.” There was no ounce of hesitation in your answer, no pause for consideration. You trusted Bucky implicitly, with every fiber of your body and soul.
“Then you have to hold onto that,” Pepper said. “Like I said, you can’t control what other people are going to do, but you can control how you react to them. If you trust Bucky, then why waste your energy worrying about what someone else might do? Especially if you don’t have any doubts about how Bucky feels about you.”
“I know,” you sighed, “but it just feels like it’s so much easier said than done. Like, I know he loves me, but I’m so scared that one day, he’s going to wake up and realize that I’m just not worth it. That he could do so much better. Or that I’m holding him back. Did you know I’m the first person he slept with since the ‘40s?! What if he decides that he wants more? That, even though he loves me, I’m just not enough to keep him satisfied?”
Pepper exhaled and scooted forward in her chair to be closer to you, taking both your hands in hers. “Honey, I might be biased because you’re essentially my sister-in-law and I love you so much, but you are, by far, more than enough. I know you get caught up in your head, and that all of this relationship business is brand new to you, but you’re extraordinary. Look at everything you’ve overcome and where you’ve gotten yourself. Do you know how many people who have been through what you’ve endured would have just given up? Or settled for so much less?”
You halfheartedly shrugged your shoulders. “If it hadn’t been for Tony, though, I–”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Pepper interrupted gently. “Tony just saw what was already inside of you. He saw your drive, your raw talent. He knew you were starting from behind the finish line, and he just provided the resources to help you catch up. If you had been brought up the way you should have been, the way you deserved, with the love and support that parents are supposed to provide, I have no doubt that you would have found yourself here on your own eventually, with or without any assistance from Tony.”
Your throat caught with the weight of Pepper’s words. You held the CEO in the highest esteem, and to hear her speak of you this way filled your heart. “I wish you and Tony had been my real family,” you whispered, hoping to keep the cracks in your voice in check. “I love you both so much.”
Pepper’s face softened. “We might not be your blood family, honey,” she said, her eyes growing glassy with unshed tears, “but never for a minute think we aren’t your real family. You’re the family we chose, just like I hope we’re the family you chose.” You nodded in agreement– they were the family you chose– the entire team was, but Pepper and Tony were special. “I wish you could see what we all see whenever we look at you,” she said.
You swallowed thickly. “I wish I did, too.”
“Can I make an observation?” Pepper asked gently, as though afraid of overstepping. When you nodded, she continued: “Being loved has always been transactional for you. You were never allowed to just be loved for who you were; your sad excuse for a mother and her monster of a boyfriend made you work for it in the most horrible ways imaginable. They gave you less than the bare minimum, and only if they felt you’d earned it from them. That’s no way for a little girl to grow up. And it breaks my heart, because now that you’re surrounded by people who love you for you, and a man who would literally die for you, who sees no other woman than you, you’ve been so conditioned to think that, if you’re not actively working to earn that love, you don’t deserve it. And Pocket, honestly, nothing could be further from the truth. You make all of our lives better just by being in them.”
You looked down at where she still held your hands in hers. God, you wanted to believe her. She made it sound so fucking easy.
As if sensing your hesitation, Pepper went on: “I’m going to make a recommendation,” she said. “I’m making it not just as your friend, but as a sister and your boss, because I think it would be beneficial in all aspects of your life right now. You’re free to do with the recommendation whatever you like; I only ask that you seriously consider it.”
You looked at her, anxiety beginning to course through you as you ran through all the possibilities of what she could possibly have to say. You nodded for her to continue.
“I want you to consider getting yourself back into therapy,” she said, gently squeezing your hand. “We can all tell you how wonderful you are, how worthy of love, until we’re blue in the face, but it’s not going to do any good until you actually believe it.”
You looked down, ashamed to meet her eye. You had been in therapy for years while you were in college and when you first started working for Stark Industries, but you’d prided yourself on your progress and had stopped attending sessions a long time ago.
“I know you’re private when it comes to your past,” Pepper continued, “and that you don’t want anyone thinking less of you or pitying you because of what you’ve been through, but honey, it’s not healthy for you to go on this way. You’re in a whole new phase of your life right now that should be filling you with joy, but you’re unhappy. I’m not saying that to make you feel bad, or to make you feel like you can’t handle it, but don’t you think it would be good to have some help? Maybe you could talk to Tony about accessing his Virtual Therapy program. That way, you’re not divulging your secrets to a real person, but you’re still getting the help you need.”
You looked at her, considering her suggestion. It had a lot of merit, and you wouldn’t have to open up to an actual person, just FRIDAY. And Tony had created it, had trusted it with his own issues, so you knew the system would be secure, and just as good, if not better, than speaking to a human therapist.
“Yeah, okay,” you finally agreed. “I’ll talk to Tony and see what we can set up.”
The relief on Pepper’s face was palpable as she stood, pulling you up so she could embrace you again. “You’re so important to me, Pocket,” she whispered. “To all of us. None of us want to see you trapped in your head. You don’t deserve that.”
“Thanks, Pep,” you said, squeezing her back. “I’m so thankful to have you in my life.”
“I am, too, honey,” Pepper said, stepping back and releasing her hold on you. She brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face. “Anytime you need anything, you know where to find me.”
You nodded, thanked her again, and made your way out of her office. Once back in the hallway, you pulled out your cell phone, dialing Tony’s number. 
“Hey, kiddo,” he answered. You could hear the sounds of DUM-E extinguishing something in the background; he was obviously down in his lab, setting something on fire. “What can I do for you?”
“Hey, Boss,” you began, taking a deep breath, “I need to ask a favor…”
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fluffysucker · 10 months
Text
8. Deep Blue, but you painted me golden
Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)
Tw: Mentions of miscarriage.
A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.
I can't believe this is the last chapter. Thank you so much for reading. It means the world to me.
Epilogue coming right away.
Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me
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The day at Coney Island felt like a fever dream. It was too amazing to be real.
After finishing breakfast, Bucky told you to get ready, and he would help the kids get ready. Choosing to stay casual, all of you were out and in Bucky's car in a short time.
The car ride was filled with Lily and Theo's voices expressing their excitement about the day and all they wanted to do. It was barely afternoon, and your smile was already so big. Once Bucky parked the car and you helped the kids out, they ran off ahead of you, ready to start the day.
And it was wonderful. Between the kids getting in the children's rides while you and Bucky took pictures like any parents, going on rides as a family, and eating so much food, you never had more fun. Your favourite part,however, was a moment you didn't expect. You split up, Bucky took Theo to try a game he really wanted to, and you and Lily went to pick up some food for all of you. As you were talking to Lily, you heard your son's excited squeals.
"Mommy, look what Daddy won." While Theo was running towards you, Bucky was trailing behind with two teddy bears in hand. One is bigger than the other. Bucky kneeled to get to Lily's height. He gave her the pink teddy bear with a smile for his favourite girl and got so many kisses and hugs in return. Then he got back to his feet and gave you the bigger white teddy bear, which you happily took from him happily.You tried so hard to listen to your boy as he told you how strong his father is and how he won over all the people standing at the game, but you couldn't. All you could think about was one thing. He remembered.
In your first few months of dating, Bucky took you to a carnival that had opened recently. It was such a fun date. However, Bucky established an important rule for your relationship. Whenever you were out at a carnival, an amusement park, or any other place possible, Bucky was going to win a teddy bear for you. And he did. You have a big box filled with teddy bears labelled Buckies with a Heart. According to him, all these teddy bears are going to keep you warm and safe, just like he is.
So when you looked at him, you wanted to see if he gave you the fluffy animal as a coincidence or if he really remembered. And you saw it. He did it out of tradition. Out of a promise he made over 11 years ago. You collected yourself. This day was about the kids, yet he somehow managed to steal your heart again.
You thought that after spending the day running and playing around, the kids would be tired, but they weren't. So Bucky drove the four of you to your favourite ice cream place. You sat in a booth near the window. You and Bucky were facing each other with a kid on each side. You ate ice cream while the kids talked about their week, and Bucky would also share how his week was. You were almost sure you were going to get kicked out because you were talking and laughing too loud. Which is why, before you left, Bucky left a very generous tip.
On your way back home, the kids' energy finally wore out, with both falling asleep almost immediately in the backseat, leaving you and Bucky talking in hushed voices. You've reached your house. You got out to carry one of them out, but Bucky beat you and carried both of them as if they weighted like feathers. You opened the door, and both of you went upstairs to the kids' room and changed them into their pyjamas, then kissed them good night.
Watching Bucky leave after a beautiful family day was hard. You wanted him to stay. You would go to bed together, talk about your favourite moments of the day, and hold each other. But you knew this was the right call. Two days of pure bliss aren't enough to make up for everything.
And without the two of you noticing, it became a routine.
The first day of the weekend would be a family day. You would spend the day together. The next day would be Bucky's day. They usually spent the day at Bucky's place, having a lazy day, worn out from yesterday's activities. Because your family day always consisted of fun activities to do together. A day at the park A Picnic. An aqurimium. Cinema. Always so much fun.
Your favourite was the beach day. Bucky planned the day ahead with you. Summer was approaching, so it was the perfect time. Watching the kids play with Bucky on the sand and swim in the clear water under the bright sun was a heartwarming sight. It was a breath of fresh air. That day, you took a picture of the four of you together, which ended up being your phone's lockscreen. Then Bucky took a picture of the three of you—you  and kids—which ended up being his phone's lockscreen.
You started to feel like family again. In every sense, the word meant And not just because of the fun days you spent together, but because, in the face of hardships, you were a family. Like the time Lily had food poisoning, spent the night throwing up, and had a very bad fever. You called Bucky at 2 AM with tears and a shaky voice, telling him that Lily would almost pass out of the pain and you didn't know what to do anymore. By an unknown power, Bucky showed up at your doorstep less than ten minutes later in his pyjamas. You rushed to the emergency room with Lily in Bucky's arms, and you stayed in the waiting room with Theo, trying to ease your panic and not traumatise your boy. You couldn't leave him alone in the house, so you kept him seated on your lap, wrapped up in your arms, assuring him that his sister would be okay. A huge relief filled you when Bucky walked out and told you that Lily was better now. You had to stay the night at the hospital. But you had your family's support, and, most importantly, Bucky's support.
That night, Bucky took in his surroundings. It's 5 in the morning. His baby girl was sleeping peacefully on a hospital bed, the colours returning to her face. He was holding his son's sleeping figure securely in his lap. And you rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling the stress die down. All of you were still in your sleepwear. Despite the panic the night had caused him, this was exactly where he belonged. Taking care of his family. Making sure they are safe. Looking after three of them. This is what he is supposed to do for the rest of his life. And just like that, all the remaining doubts evaporated; his demons left him. Nothing can make him leave this. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent promise that he would always be here. He would live his life by your side.
Despite your heart being full at the return of your family, you and Bucky were still a work in progress.
You and Bucky managed to steal time for just the two of you. Secret dates nobody knew about. You were still mainly using Sam for babysitter duties, but whenever he wasn't available, you would have to lie to your friends about where you were going or why you were so smiley.
Bucky managed to have a date at least once a week. It was always something you loved. Restaurants, Café shops, bookstores, and places that you enjoyed Sometimes, Bucky would bring back the act of you not knowing each other before. You always had more fun during these times. It felt like re-exploring your relationship.
Along with dates, there were the bouquets of flowers at your doorsteps every weekend, the lunch packed on your desk with the sweetest note every now and then, the small gifts you would find around the house, and the dreamy texts you would receive out of nowhere. Bucky was making it extremely hard not to get back, but you knew you needed your time. You needed to be sure he wouldn't just get bored.
That is why you avoided physical contact as much as you could. Bucky was indeed a very charming man, but his main love language was always physical touch. And of all the people, you were the one to know this the most. You had fallen under his magic far too many times. You knew the minute you felt his touch, you would give in immediately. Because his touch was captivating. It never hurts you. It always made you feel loved, safe, secured, wanted, and taken care of. You never understood how Bucky was able to express so much through his touch, but it was always so loud. So you kept physical contact to a minimum.
One time, you broke your own hidden rule. The kids were spending the night at their aunt Nat's house. So, you weren't surprised when Bucky showed up with takeout and your favourite snakes, ready for a movie night. It was supposed to be a normal movie night. You didn't know how you ended up on the roof. Each of you is wrapped in a comfortable blanket, watching the stars and moons in the sky. Stargazing was one of Bucky's favourite activities. You loved listening to him talk about the different stars. It was soothing. You didn't know how the conversation went from stars' names to serious topics. Deep questions flew around between the both of you.
Without giving it much thought, you asked Bucky if he could make a wish and know it would be granted. What would he wish for? His answer wasn't something you could have ever expected.
"I would wish that I would have been there for you when you lost the baby."
You didn't know how to feel. Your miscarriage was something you never talked about. Up until now, no one knew. You felt no need to tell them anyway. You moved on, supposedly. You saw in Bucky's eyes many questions, begging you to tell him everything. You had to be open and vulnerable. You knew this was necessary if you wanted to carry on again. Together. So you did. You told him everything.
When you found out, how did you feel, keeping it a secret, losing it, going to the hospital, getting back home, having the kids, everything. You never said this stuff out loud. They were kept hidden in the back of your mind, like it was someone else's story, not yours. But it was yours. It happened to you. You openly told Bucky that the worst part was the empty house. It left you with just yourself and the pain, both physical and emotional.
Bucky couldn't help it. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and letting you rest your head on his chest. He noticed the way you avoided his touch, and he understood. But this time he couldn't. It was too unbearable. The need to comfort you was overpowering. Hearing the full story was painful, but he wanted to. He had to. He wanted to know what it was like to go through such a thing alone. He wanted to do the thing he should have. Hold you.
You felt overwhelmed. Different emotions were hitting you. But the feeling of being surrounded by Bucky was the strongest. Deep apologies filled your ears. And you knew he meant it. However, you could only focus on him. This was why you avoided his touch. Because, exactly as you expected, him holding you was the only way for you to heal.
As the night carried on, it got too late without notice. You offered the guest room for Bucky to stay in tonight. A part of you didn't want to be alone tonight. You wouldn't invite Bucky back to your bedroom. You just wanted to know he was there. And he understood. Despite the sad topic that you approached, both of you went to bed with a smile on your faces. Something tells you that you were a lot closer to peace.
After that night, it got very hard for you to hide what was going on from your friends. Suspicion grew between your group. And you neither confirmed nor denied anything. Which was all the confirmation they needed. They respected your choice to not share until you wanted to. However, they didn't stop teasing both of you. Sharon and Natasha were having a field day with it. But they have already coordinated the threats and promises of torture to warn Bucky once you make it official again. They already regretted not doing it the first time. So this time, they would make sure Bucky wouldn't have to face your two very protective bestfriends.
You would always get teasing texts from all of them whenever they were on babysitter duty. Even if they were the ones to ask to have the kids. They would always make comments about the blossoming romance between you.
However, you never expected to receive this text. In the middle of the day, from Steve
"Why do I have a feeling that the fact that Bucky was unbelievably disgusted by this beautiful woman's, who was very much his type, flirting and turned her down so fast, has something to do with you?"
"And why has he been going on for almost half an hour now about how it is rude and disrespectful to hit on a taken man?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Rogers."
"I thought so, too."
"Heads up, He is calling your babysitter to come for the night."
Right after Steve's text, you got a text from Bucky that got you smiling.
"Hey,doll ♡♡ What do you think about coming over tonight to my place? I already called the babysitter."
Bucky was so offended by the flirting comments, and you weren't even back together. In his mind, he was only yours.
As you were approaching Bucky's place, an uneasy feeling started to go through you. You spent tonnes of time alone, both of you. However, you had never been to his place after that day. So was it a good idea to spend time there? You removed these thoughts quickly and knocked on the door. Bucky opened up with a smile that flattered your heart. He let you inside. The delicious smell instantly filled your nostrils. He told you dinner was almost ready. So you joined him in the kitchen, where you put the dessert you brought on the counter and helped as much as you could. It was peaceful. You and Bucky were cooking and eating, genuinely enjoying each other's company. After dinner, you moved to the living room, where you both sat on the couch, still talking. Unknowingly, you and Bucky found yourselves in a very serious and open conversation. A conversation about what really happened between the two of you. After so many dates, it was the right time. It was another important conversation that you had to have. Bucky poured his heart out to you, and you welcomed it. Everything that clouded his judgement Everything he thought he couldn't share. You understood why he would hesitate to say this, but you were his wife and his safe place. It was a long conversation. You shared your sides and talked about the miscommunication that happened. It felt like removing all the dirt so you could build again.
You turned to Bucky as you were about to leave after convincing Bucky that an Uber would do okay as long as you shared your location and texted him once you were home. You needed to tell him that.
"Just to make something clear for the future. There are millions of men in the world. Only you have my whole heart. Only you are perfect for me. Only you, I would choose every time."
It took every bit of power and self-control. Bucky had, so he wouldn't kiss you. Wouldn't hold you and never let you. Not to bring you in and worship you all his life. But he would wait. Bucky wasn't a patient man. However, he would wait all his life for you.
But today, Bucky's patience was being tested beyond what he could handle. It was supposed to be a normal day at work. He didn't think much of the meeting with a new business partner who was Steve's friend. He was thinking about your family day tomorrow and the time he was going to spend with you. But his thoughts came to an abrupt stop as he saw that man walking into his office. His biggest enemy That god of a man Thor Odinson.
You didn't mention Thor again that often, as it really meant only work for you. However, Bucky could never forget him, even if he wanted to. His hands around you weren't something Bucky could forgive. Which is why he knew this deal wasn't going to ever happen. Steve and Sam kept looking at Bucky, confused and questioningly, as they watched Bucky be extra rude and strict to the other man. It got to the point where Steve had to hit Bucky's leg under the table, but Bucky didn't care. He despised the man in front of him for obvious reasons.
It all stopped when Thor excused himself to answer his wife. Before Steve or Sam could open their mouths to scold Bucky, he turned to Steve quickly, asking if he knew Thor's wife. Steve told him that Thor had been happily married for over six years now. Steve was offended on behalf of his friend when Bucky asked if Thor was the kind of guy to cheat. Before Bucky could know more, Thor returned and apologised. "Sorry, but I always answer my wife. I don't let my wife's calls go to voicemail." And just like that, Thor became someone Bucky could tolerate. The meeting went well after that. Bucky was more focused and open to the deal.
Everything made sense for Steve and Sam as Thor was leaving, and he mentioned your name. "And please, send my regards to her. It was a pleasure working with her. I'm sure working with her life partner would be just the same." Thor was a smart man. He knew Bucky was more than just your kids' father. And Bucky liked that. He was indeed your life partner.
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Planning dates was more Bucky's thing. Unless there was somewhere you wanted to go or something you wanted to do, Bucky was usually the one to make the plans. So he couldn't say he wasn't surprised when he got a text from you with a location, asking him to meet you there and to dress nice. Bucky also couldn't say his heart didn't flatter at the thought of you being comfortable putting in efforts again with him. For him.
And he listened to you. He cleaned up nicely. And went to the place you chose. He tried to keep his heart from bursting when he saw the place. It was your bar. The classic bar that held so many memories Your first anniversary, your first date as an engaged couple, and your first date as a married couple. A special place. Bucky didn't bring you to the bar the past few months because he didn't want to overwhelm you or make you rush your decision. But he couldn't help but have hope for tonight.
He didn't wait long before you were there. Bucky always wondered if there was ever going to be a time when you didn't take his breath away. He knew the answer was no. Bucky would always be enchanted by you. You walked to him, wearing his favourite dress that he always loved, then joined him at the table he picked. Right when he thought he could recover from your beauty, his eyes caught sight of something that left him breathless. You were wearing your wedding rings. Bucky could swear he almost shed a tear or two. He didn't want to read too much into the situation, but his heart was doing little dances, making him more hopeful for tonight.
You still find it fascinating that after so many years, conversations never died down between you and Bucky. There was always something for you to talk about. To laugh about. And you wanted it to be like this always. You never wanted silence to take place between the two of you again. And you had a feeling it wasn't.
Bucky's smile was too big when you asked if he wanted to dance. He stood up, offering you his hand, which you took gladly. The bar had a small area in the middle for dancing, which was now only occupied by you and Bucky. The soft music was playing, his arm around your waist, yours around his neck, your fingers intertwined together, and you were swaying to the music. Bucky could swear this was heaven. You were his heaven.
And if his heart could take more. Your song started playing. And Bucky looked at you as if you hung the stars and the moon. His eyes were showing all his love for you. And you took this as your sign. That what you were doing was right. What you planned to do was the right decision.
The night was magical. A night of your dreams. Bucky dropped you off. And got out of the car to open your door. But you still had one thing to do. You moved a little as if you were getting inside, but then you turned to Bucky, who was still waiting by the car, making sure you got inside safely.
"Do you think if we go to the same lawyers, they will give us a discount on the marriage this time?"
Bucky could swear his heart jumped from his chest. His lungs were working overtime to keep him breathing.
"I don't know. But I will pay everything I have, if that is what it takes."
You were standing in front of him, wrapping your hands around his neck. His arms came around your waist instinctively.
"So you want to get married again?"
"Never wanted anything more in my life."
Bucky couldn't resist anymore. He leaned forward, capturing your lips with his. Like pieces of a puzzle put together, a cold breeze of air after a blazing day, rain after drought, home after exile—everything felt alright.
The kiss was gentle, soft, and sweet. Both of you are pouring all your emotions into it. No pain. No confusion. No regret. Only true love.
You broke the kiss, maintaining eye contact. You said it all with your eyes. And Bucky understood. You stood on your tiptoes to bury your face in his neck, needing to feel him once again. Bucky tightened his arm around you. At that moment, Bucky felt like he owned the world.
By a miracle, you loved him so much that you forgave him and let him have you again. And he would never waste your trust or love again. He would never hurt you again. He is going to live all his life doing one thing. Loving you
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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year
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runaway “bride” | i want you pt. 8
natasha romanoff masterlist | series masterlist | navigation
pairings: older!natasha romanoff x young!fem reader
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summary: your father doesn’t know it yet, but you’re in love with his best friend. and what makes it better is that you’re sure enough that she feels the same way. the sad part is, neither of you can word out your love for each other properly.
warnings: sensitive topics (abortion), fighting (like tons), heavily detailed angst, scared reader, slight attraction, and more - MINORS DNI.
notes: good luck xx :)
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NATASHA'S POV:
I've always found that drinking and smoking go well together. It causes me to lose track of my true emotions. As if I'm in a different dimension where no one knows how I feel or what I want. Moreover, I never imagined I would be so hurt in my life when Y/n acknowledged that she wanted to abort our child. I was completely unable to bear the excruciating pain she inflicted on me. Therefore, a case of beer and a pack of cigarettes were my companions when I returned home while Y/n was away.
"You're drinking again."
Turning over my shoulder, Steve was leaning against the door with his hair ruffled everywhere on his head. I assumed that he went out today to grab a drink with his friends, causing him to look like that. I smiled wearily at him, knowing that I got his daughter pregnant.
"Just having a rough night, I guess."
He simply sighed, took a bottle of beer from the cooler next to the rickety table, and walked over to where I was sitting on the couch. He handed the bottle to me and I gratefully accepted it. I then opened the lid and downed the beer.
As he goes to get a beer for himself, he remarks, "Y/n's been weird lately. She's been distant with me and always out of the house, I don't know how to deal with that."
I looked at him briefly, before turning and gazing at the big painting on the wall instead. "She's probably just being a teenager, Steve."
"Yeah, I know that. But we're close," he claims. "Like really close, she tells me everything. And now it's like we don't know each other anymore. Is it because I'm trying to make Bucky be with her? I just don't want her to live in a–"
"Do you maybe think that she doesn't want her love life to be forced?" I questioned, which almost comes off as patronizing. "What do you mean?" he enquired as his eyebrows furrowed in my direction.
"Maybe she wants true love," I said. "Like, real love. Not the kind of love where you try to pair up with two people that would never even work out. Sure, Bucky's her best friend. But I know that look in Y/n's eyes, and she is not in love with him."
"How are you so sure, anyway?"
I licked my bottom lip and sighed. "Don't know, she's just... different."
After a few minutes of peaceful silence, he finally spoke: "I know my daughter, Natasha. She's not like this."
"I'm not saying that you don't know your daughter, but maybe you should support whatever she wants in life."
He shakes his head at me and says, "All I want is for everyone here to be happy."
"And maybe she won't be happy if she chooses Bucky to be his boyfriend."
"Why are you talking like this with me? It's like you know my daughter all your life. Like you're her mother."
Because I'm in love with your daughter and got her fucking pregnant.
I made a small effort to speak, but nothing came out. I was at a loss for words and had no choice but to merely glare at him in response. He gave me a dubious look, but I could tell there was something shrieking through his bones behind those eyes.
Then, I felt my heart clenching with pure affliction. If I keep staring at him, the guilt will eat me up – and it's beginning to do so. I looked down at my bottle and choked out a sob, which made him scoot closer to me.
"Hey, hey... are you okay?" he asked, placing his hand on my shoulder, which I do not deserve. "What happened? Did she tell you something?"
I am aware that once I tell him about my relationship with his daughter, I will lose our friendship, possibly even more, but I'm not sure if I was mentally prepared for that great loss. Before she came into my life, I swore to Steve that I would never betray him by any possibility. And now, with the information that I will tell him, I know that I've betrayed him a long time ago.
You always can't have both when it comes to love.
"I'm in love with your daughter," I whispered with trembling breath. "I'm so fucking in love with your daughter that I got her pregnant, Steve. I love Y/n so much, and I'm fucking drinking away this shit because she's aborting our baby."
I'd never heard such deafening silence until this happened. He had wide eyes as he stared at me and was holding my shoulder so firmly in his hand. But I didn't give a damn. I turned my head away from him as I wiped my tears with the back of my hind, almost letting snot come out of my nose. I could feel his hard breathing on me, and I was prepared to be punched by him. At the end of the day, I never get what I truly want from my life. I've lost everything, including my first love. And now I'm about to lose this security with his daughter and I don't know how I can function right with that.
"Say that again."
I gasp for air as I look back into his eyes and then take a deep breath. "I'm in love with your d-daughter, Steve."
"No, enlighten me as to what you said following that."
"I got your daughter pregnant," I looked down from my lap and cracked out another sob. "I got your daughter pregnant and I'm so sorry."
He lets go of my shoulder and stands up, walking away from me. He covers his mouth, as if not believing what I just said, and threw his hands in the air angrily. I looked away again.
"You got my fucking daughter pregnant?!" I feared Maisy and Antonio would be startled awake by his screams as they filled the entire house. He screamed at me while pointing his index finger at me, "You got my only daughter pregnant and have the audacity to tell this to me knowing that I won't be happy with this?!"
"W-What else can I do?" I asked as I stood up, facing my true fears. This was, in fact, my true fear. It has been beholding me like a gift, except that it really wasn't. "I couldn't help myself, I fell in love with her the day that we grew close."
"And how was she when you fell in love with her? What, 16? 15?!"
"No, I would not ever do that–"
"You shouldn't say that to me after I've sacrificed everything for you," he shouts and roams around the living room like a crazed man. He cries while pulling his hair back from his head. "I thought you would be a good auntie to my daughter, and I trusted you with her, but you took advantage of her innocence! You are aware of how Y/n spent her childhood growing up with her mother. I had thought you would be that person for her, but you ended up making her pregnant. Have you ever considered how I might feel about this? You were the only one I could trust with her, and that's no longer the case! You are GONE!"
"Steve," my chest hurts from the sobs I've let out, and I could only sit back down with great despair hitting me like a truck, a very big one. "I-I'm sorry, I know it shouldn't have happened but... it did. We fell in love, she loves me. And I love her, I can't help but love her like that."
I had not anticipated watching a father receive the news that his daughter had become pregnant with his best friend, much less falling in love with a woman myself. He was one of the many people I could trust and truly was my best friend. And the more I touched Y/n every minute, the more I realized I was losing that position. But if I could lose one person today, it would be him.
But it's like losing a family in a single motion, and I'm not sure how I'd manage this pain beating out of my chest.
"Natasha," he breathes out my name as he covers both of his eyes with his hands, choking out another sob. All I wanted to do was hug him, tell him that I was deeply sorry, and maybe work things out along the way. But that wouldn't happen, not at this moment. "She needed you as a mother, not her lover."
"She loves me more than that," I mumbled. "We love each other, and I don't want that to stop. I know I-I'm being selfish, but for once in my life–I'm happy. I'm so happy, Steve."
"But you shouldn't be happy with my daughter."
He was right about that.
I sadly smiled and said, "She's the most perfect human being in the world. Who could resist being in love with her? I don't blame Bucky for that even, she's too perfect. She's the one for me, and I'm sorry that I had to tell you this way."
Steve sat down again, this time facing the other way. I imagine he didn't like the idea of sitting next to me, so I did the same. I'm left in the dark after he takes a single piece of paper off the coffee table and scrawls some words on it. As soon as he was finished, he handed it to me, and I silently read the paper.
We can't choose who we love, can we?
This note had a peculiar mixture of contempt and relief. I kept looking at the paper with tears welling up in my eyes because I was unable to decide which emotion to feel. A few tears fell onto the sheet, and I quickly wiped them away with my hand. "What does this mean?" I asked him as I turned to face him. "Why did you write this?"
He leaned back and murmured something under his breath while heaving a trembling sigh.
"Because if I say it out loud, I do not know if I would mean it."
I nodded, a great deal of internal pain causing my throat to bob. Y/n felt more significant to me than my friendship with him, even though I was aware that I was going to lose his trust. I have the option to choose anyone to be my friend – but never love. And she is the object of my deep love; no matter what, it will always be for her. I firmly believe that it must be Y/n because I could never love someone this deeply in any other way.
"I would do anything for her, Steve."
He nodded slowly, accepting this kind of fate brought up to him abruptly. "Yeah," he said in his deep voice. "I know you would."
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READER'S POV:
Natasha had not spoken or seen me in days, and I was dying for her to look at me again. But I can't force our fate, especially since she knew I was planning to abort the child inside of me. Those were lonely days for me. Every hour that passed made me wish it was night so I wouldn't have to think about her while trying to fall asleep. I would try to keep a safe distance between us by either being upstairs or at MJ's house when she was around. Though, I could no longer handle this pain – it was getting too much. Speak to me and let me know that you'll fully support my decision so that we can be happy again. Don't go away so fast, we haven't even finished our story yet.
I haven't seen my father either since the day he left for work, so it was just me, Natasha, Maisy, and Antonio in our lonely gardened house. But today felt different since my father came home drunk. I tried talking to him, but he wouldn't even look me in the eye. Perhaps he was that intoxicated, so I left him alone in his bedroom. While walking back to the garden, I see MJ waiting for me outside. I ran towards her and asked, "What are you doing here? It's barely noon."
"I came here because–" she takes a deep breath before finishing her sentence. "Remember Wanda? Yeah, she's available now. She'll help you today."
"But, my father is here and he might be looking for me–"
"We don't have much time," she claims. "She'll be leaving tonight, so it's best if you come with me right now."
I was only hesitant to leave because I wasn't sure if I still wanted to have the baby out of my stomach, but I was afraid to say I did. So I nodded, grabbed my bag, and followed her to a place I didn't know.
When we got to the small house, a tall brunette woman was waiting for us outside. Her face looked dreary, yet she didn't look like a threat. Before I could introduce myself to her, she said: "You look young."
Her voice sounded condescending.
"I uhm..." I stumbled over my words and seemed to be left with no choice but to nod. She licks her lips before inviting me inside her house, which hardly even resembled one. In the corner, there was a bed and a long table covered in medical supplies. She motioned for me to sit, so I did so slowly at the edge of the bed while waiting.
"How old are you?" the woman asked.
"E-Eighteen," I responded quietly, almost as if it was a secret. She looked at me briefly before asking: "When was the last time you had sex?"
"I-I don't know, maybe six weeks ago."
"You did not do anything else after that? Did you take a plan B pill?"
Despite how overwhelming these questions were, I was compelled to answer each one. She also didn't look friendly, which only added to the nausea I already felt.
"N-No," I replied. "I didn't."
She looked at me quite skeptically before grabbing her clipboard and writing down something, since I cannot read it from here. MJ was a few feet away from me with her eyes roaming around the room, then back at me to check how I was holding up.
The woman had her hand on my knee and squeezed, acting kinder this time since I got a sense that she didn't appreciate me much. "Are you sure about this procedure? If you have any thoughts, let me know. But right now, I'll leave you be as you talk this out with your... friend I should say?"
"Yeah," MJ replied for me, nodding her head. "I'm her friend." The woman kindly smiled again before leaving us in the room, making my way towards MJ as I hugged her tight, face buried into her neck.
I have never been so scared in my life.
"Do you still want to do this?" she asked with a very soft tone, almost like a cat. "If you don't want to do this anymore, I can help you raise the baby. I'll always be here for you, you know that."
"I don't know anymore," I whispered into her neck, feeling my tears streaming down my face. "It's like I wanted to get rid of this thing yesterday and now I feel like I have the sense to keep it."
"You also have to think about yourself too, sweetheart." her words were so comforting, and it feels like I don't deserve them whatsoever. But she was openly saying these things to me and all I had to do was to accept it.
"I'm trying, I really am."
After a brief period of hugging, someone entered the room. When I looked at the door, Natasha was there, her brow furrowed by the doorframe. Her expression softened as she turned to look at MJ and then at me.
"Y-Y/n? Can we talk outside, please?"
I pulled away from MJ and whispered, "How did she know this place?" she only shrugs and steps back away from me, making Natasha pull my wrist gently as we go outside of the small house. I stood with a frail body and murmured, "W-What are you doing here?" even though I was still upset with her, I couldn't help but feel my heart beat slower when she was around.
"I just," she takes a deep breath and rubs the back of her neck. "C-Can we please think about this first? You're making a decision without me, that's my baby too."
"I really don't want to fight right now, Nat–"
"If you could just listen to me, maybe you'd change your mind." her hands were in the air in a beseeching gesture, and her voice sounded like she was pleading. Before I made the choice that would change my entire life, I took a moment to look at her and nod. She lets out a huge sigh of relief. "I know things have been rough with us, b-but this baby could probably change our life. It would make our relationship stronger, and we would be different. Good difference. And if you just give us time for each other, then maybe you'd change your mind."
"I don't know if I would want that, Natasha," I muttered, rubbing my elbow to help my anxiety ease. "We've been okay, until you didn't support my decision. What makes you say that our relationship would grow stronger if we keep ourselves hidden in the dark?"
"That's why I want to run away with you, so we could be open to everyone. So that we wouldn't be so scared anymore," Natasha cups both of my hands as she brought them to her dry lips, kissing my skin softly that I'm reminded of her undying love for me. "Just think about it. You and me, in a strange town where no one knows us, and us taking care of our beautiful baby? Once the baby's born, you can go back to college again. We can take care of our child–"
"If that ever happens, I won't be leaving a child behind," I interrupted her, furrowing my brows. What was she even saying? That I would go to college to pursue my dreams yet leave the baby that I never planned for? What kind of a mother would I be to do that? "That baby would need me more than my fucking future–"
"So let's say you don't go, okay? Let's just say you don't," she was getting agitated now as she moved closer to me until both of our foreheads touched. "I can work from home and take care of you and our baby, and be happy together... don't you want that? Be free and happy?"
"But lying to our loved ones? I don't think so, Natasha."
"Wait–"
I removed my hands away from hers before crossing my arms around myself, as if creating a safety net for myself. "And if we do keep the baby, will you be there?"
Natasha nodded happily, her grin getting wider as tears streamed down her face. "Of course," she whispered. "I'll be there every second, baby girl. Just... don't do this. We can run away right now and leave everything behind, don't you want that for the both of us? We can leave everything behind, beautiful."
I first gave it some thought. Sure, giving up everything to raise a child with her sounds like a wonderful experience. In fact, I was so close to wanting it. What harm would there be in that? I would sacrifice everything for the woman I love, but in return, everyone would despise me, even my distant father. Yes, that sounds fantastic. But yet, I couldn't say yes to it.
"Natasha..."
"I'll marry you, and be with you, and do whatever I want with you–"
"Natasha," before she could even kiss me, I placed my hand on her chest. I could feel it beating against my palm, and I almost wanted to kiss her back. But she kept our lip distance, yet they were so close to mind. "Tasha, I can't have that future with you."
She looked distraught. "W-Why?"
"Because I still want to achieve my dreams," I told her while smiling weakly at myself. "I want to finish college, be who I am, and maybe if time can tell, maybe it could bring me back to you. But for now, I don't think this would even work out between us."
"Y-You don't know what you're saying, detka," she sniffled, cupping my face desperately. It almost screams, please don't let me go, not now, not ever. But I push that away once more, trying my best to be brave for myself. "You don't know what you're saying, please don't do this."
"How can I let you love me when you don't even fully support my decision?" I asked with my voice quivering with woe, and she touched me even more. "How can I let that happen?"
For a while, we were silent, trying to savor the last few seconds of our proximity. And if she ever still decides to not support my decision, letting her go was the best choice. I would not be able to look at her if I thought about the words she used to describe me as an immoral, self-centered individual. How can I ever look at her the same way again? She presses our lips together, and I felt elation course through my veins. I was delighted to be kissed by her once more, to be the girl she has always cherished. That's what I always wanted to be.
"Then I will support you," she whispered with her mouth close to mine, aching to be kissed again. She looked down at me with those sorrowful eyes, yet smiled at me. "I-I will support you, Y/n. I just can't lose you yet."
Natasha held my hand throughout the procedure. I was crying with agony while she kissed my forehead, repeatedly telling me that everything was going to be okay. MJ was waiting outside since she was too frightened to see the process. As soon as it was done, Wanda told me to take some pills to help me ease the pain for the next couple of weeks. And before I left her house, Wanda gave my hand a tight squeeze, whispering: "Don't let her control your life."
These words resonated with me as Natasha walked me home. She couldn't possibly control my life, right? She was fully supportive when I told her that my school was a priority, so how can she control my life? While thinking about these thoughts silently, I heard her asking: "Do you want me to bring you to bed later?"
Y/n, everything will be fine. Just a few more seconds until the fetus comes out.
Trauma, pain, agony, or whatever the hell is in there. I hated it.
"Y-Yeah," I replied, pushing those thoughts away far away from my head. "I think I'd like that."
I did not see my father again that day, and I will not see him the following day either, as we will be leaving in a week. So I anticipated that he would meet some friends before we leave. I was in bed with Natasha while she spoke about her previous life in New York, how I influenced everything for her, and how she is now truly content. Something within me felt proud, but the majority of the time I felt terrible. Truly fucking horrible and truly fucking disgusting.
I regret what transpired with that child; I should not have had an abortion. I should've seen it grow, to become a wonderful child. And now it's gone.
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whoops
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tuiccim · 8 months
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Though I Have Never Read It (Part 9)
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2348
Warnings: Angst, so much angst. I'm so sorry.
A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.
Though I Have Never Read It Masterlist
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"U-us?" You ask, confused. 
“Yeah, us. I, we, I- God! I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you about this for weeks,” Mark says. 
“About us?” You clarify.
“Yes,” Mark nods but seems to be at a loss for words. 
“What about us? You know you can talk to me about anything,” you reassure him. 
“After things ended with the woman I was seeing, Laura, I got to thinking. She knew about Eva from the beginning but then she decided she didn’t want that. To be a stepmom. She said she didn’t know if she could love Eva, love a child that isn’t hers. And it made me think, what if I can’t find someone that can love her?” Mark pauses. 
“You will, Mark. It just has to be the right person,” you put a hand on his arm. 
“It does and, so I thought, why can’t that right person be you?”
You stare at him absolutely stunned before finally finding your voice, “What?”
Mark takes a deep breath and then launches into his reasoning, “You love Eva and we’re great friends. Maybe we’re missing this great thing that’s right in front of us? Maybe we could be a family and along the way we could fall in love? We’ve always seen each other as friends. Off-limits in a way but if we tried, it could be great. You’re practically Eva’s mother anyway or the closest thing she has to one. We could do this together. Am I making any sense?”
“I understand what you are saying but… Mark, you’ve been through a lot lately. Your first relationship and breakup since you were widowed and then all this with Eva. Your emotions are running high.”
“I know it seems like that but I’ve thought about this a lot. I think all of this gave me clarity. We would be great together. We are great together. We get along, we work really well together with parenting, we’re comfortable together. We don’t have to jump right into anything. We could start spending a little more time together. Go on a few family outings and then a date. It felt weird when I first started thinking about it but it makes sense. Doesn’t it?”
“I’m… a little thrown, honestly,” you admit. 
“I know, I’m sorry but… will you at least consider it? We could be a family. A real family,” Mark says softly. 
“We are a real family. It’s little and broken but still good,” you quote one of Eva’s favorite movies, trying desperately to relieve some of the tension between you.
“Okay, Stitch,” Mark laughs, “but will you think about it? Really think about it? Please?”
“I… Okay, yeah, I’ll think about it,” you whisper.
“I think we could be really good together. Seriously, you’re my best friend. We tell each other practically everything. You love Eva. We could make this work. I think- I think this could be great. For all of us. Eva would be so happy. We could be happy together, the three of us as a family. I’d make you happy,” Mark looks at you in a way he hasn’t before. It makes you feel nervous and scared and so many things but you can’t think of it now as Eva walks in with a sweet smile asking for breakfast. 
“What would you like, Eva Diva?” You distract yourself from the conversation that you knew would weigh on you for hours. 
“Toast!”
“Toast? You got it! How about some eggs, too?” You smile. 
Eva’s face lights up with an idea, “French toast?”
“I’ll get out the bread,” Mark winks at both of you. 
“Will you help me crack the eggs?” You ask Eva as you join Mark in the kitchen. 
A few hours later, you left their apartment with Mark walking you to the door and asking one last time, “You’ll think about it, right?”
You nodded, answering quietly, “Yeah, I will.”
“Have dinner with me Saturday. I’ll get my mom to watch Eva. We can talk about it then. No pressure, just to talk. Okay?” Mark looks at you expectantly. 
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you Saturday,” you agree. 
As you were driving home, your mind ran through the exchange with Mark over and over again. You had never thought of Mark that way. As he had said, it was off-limits, unthinkable because he was your best friend’s husband and you would never betray her by even considering it. He was also right that it made sense. You would love nothing more than to have Eva be yours legally. As it stands, you have no real right to her. If Mark did ever end up remarrying and his new wife decided she didn’t want you around, you had no recourse to seek visitation. It could turn the situation ugly and that was your greatest fear. 
As you pull into your parking spot at the compound, you realize you don’t even remember the drive. You had driven by rote, your mind consumed with the dilemma at hand. You laid your head back on your seat and imagined your best friend in the seat next to you. The two of you had often had your “car talks” when you could tell each other anything and you knew it would never leave the confines of that space. 
“What should I do?” you ask. 
“What does your heart say?” She looks at you with a smirk. 
You scoff laughingly, “I hate it when you ask that.”
“Because it’s not an answer,” she smiles knowingly. 
“Exactly. You answer my question with a question. It’s the worst,” you pause for a moment before asking her, “Would you hate me?”
“For loving my family?”
“No…” you stare at her, knowing she understands your question. 
“I could never hate you,” she reassures. 
“It feels strange, wrong to even think about it. As if I’m trying to take your place, take over your life,” you feel tears shimmer in your eyes. 
“Are you?” She asks softly. 
“No… I don’t know. Maybe there was always that little bit of envy. You had a good man and a real life and I was this shadow of a person under everyone else’s control.”
“You weren’t a shadow. I saw you.”
“You saved my life and then lost your own.”
“It was worth it. I brought Eva into this world.”
“She’s amazing. She’s so like you. I love her so much,” you tell her.
“And I love you. No matter what. You’re-”
A knock on your car window makes your head pop up. The presence of your best friend melting away and you stare up at Bucky for a moment before reaching for the door, “Uh, hey.”
“Hey. Are you okay, doll?” He asks.
“Just a lot on my mind,” you say as you exit your vehicle and grab your bag. 
“Let me carry that for you,” he takes the bag from you.
“Thanks, Bucky,” you give him a small smile. 
“How is Eva?” He asks as he walks with you to your room. 
“Almost fully recovered. She still tires out easily but she’s back to her normal self for the most part. She’s a fighter, like her mom was,” your voice breaks a little as you enter your room. 
“Doll?” Bucky looks at you curiously as he sets your bag down. 
“I’m sorry. I just-” you break down in tears and Bucky is to you in a second. You wrap your arms around his neck as sobs wrack your body. Everything converged on you at once, your fear of losing Eva, the grief of your best friend’s death, the fear and uncertainty surrounding Mark’s request, your feelings for Bucky, and your own insecurities. You cried more than you had in years and through it all, Bucky held you. 
“It’s okay. I got you, doll,” Bucky whispers reassurances as you cling to him. 
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do,” you release the words shakily. 
“About what? Talk to me,” Bucky rubs your back. 
“I don’t- Everyth- Eva and Mark and everything. I can’t…” You stop, scared you’re going to start hyperventilating. You felt panicked. Everything was pressing down on you and you felt heavy, so you held onto Bucky. He was your lifeline in that moment. 
“You’re overwhelmed, doll. The last few weeks, the last few months have been a lot for you. Let’s get some food and then maybe an early bedtime would be a good idea. What do you think?”
You nod against his shoulder, “Will you-” You stop yourself from asking him to stay with you. You know how unfair it is, but his presence comforted you. It felt wrong to ask him to be there for you as you are considering whether to give up a chance to be with him in order to be with Mark. If Bucky even wanted to be with you like that. God, you were so confused and torn and sad. Maybe you should tell him, ask his advice, and find out how he feels. He was one of the few people who knew about your full past. He had become your closest friend and confidante over these last few weeks. 
Then, as if reading your mind, he answers your unspoken question. “I’ll stay with you as long as you want. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you,” he whispers. 
Those sweet, perfect whispered words should have given you all the comfort in the world but they shatter you. Your heart feels like it’s burning a hole through your chest and the tears start all over as all the confusion crashes down on your head again. 
“Doll? Did I say something wrong?” He asks, pulling back to look into your face. 
“No, no, it’s me. I’m wrong,” you pull away from him. Bucky lets you go, allowing you space, and waits. You put your head in your hands and turn away. Your mind is going too fast, the thoughts are crowding in. You don’t know what to think or feel. “I don’t know what to do,” you cry. 
“Talk to me. Please, doll,” Bucky takes a step closer to you.
“I don’t know what to do,” you repeat the words as if stuck on a loop. 
“You talk to me. That’s what you do. Look at me, doll,” Bucky moves around you to look in your face. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know if I should. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to you. You-, I-, do you…” you look into his eyes before shaking your head, “I can’t.”
“You can,” Bucky watches as you shake your head, “You can, you can, doll. Whatever it is, I’m here for you. You can tell me.” He cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look him in the eye. 
You stare at him, covering his hands with your own, and it calms you. You had told Bucky about everything else. You had told him how weak you once were and shown how strong you had become. It wasn’t fair to him but…
“Mark,” you whisper. 
“Mark? What did he do? Did he hurt you?” Bucky looks over you as if expecting to find some mark or bruise. 
“No, no, he would never. He… he wants to be a family.”
The color drains from Bucky’s face as he takes in the meaning of your words, “What?” 
“He’s scared he’ll never find someone who can love Eva. He wants us to be a family and…” you trail off. 
“And?” Bucky prompts. 
“He said, what if we’re missing out on this great thing that’s right in front of us? We could be together and be happy and… I’d be Eva’s mom,” you looked up at him with all of the confusion and fear showing on your face. “But would I be betraying her mom? Am I doing that just by thinking about it? Is that really a relationship that could be happy when it’s based on the love of a child rather than loving each other? Mark said maybe we’d fall in love along the way. But we’ve had six years as friends, wouldn’t those feelings have surfaced if they were there? Or was it just so off-limits we’ve never let ourselves go there before? He wants to go to dinner Saturday night to talk about it. I don’t know what to do.”
You lay your forehead on Bucky’s chest. If it was possible, you would have heard his heart breaking as he held you there. He felt it shattering into pieces too tiny to ever be put back together. He was in love with you, head over heels, beyond sense, in love with you. He had planned to tell you that night, before Mark called about Eva’s seizure. Maybe that was his sign that he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe he was supposed to let you go. Maybe you were only ever meant to be a night of comfort. His past was just the past and you were just meant to be a part of it. You were his sign that he could let go and move on. All he knows is he can’t fail you now and so he takes a deep breath, puts his own feelings aside, and asks the question that may turn his heart to dust, “What is your heart telling you?”
You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, staving off the onslaught of tears you feel coming to choke you. It was as if you were hearing your best friend speaking through him. You give him the only answer you can, “I don’t know. I’m just too overwhelmed right now. I can’t think straight.”
Bucky blinks rapidly, trying to keep his emotions at bay, “Of course you are. Let’s get you some food and then you need to rest. Everything will be clearer in the morning.”
“Thank you, Bucky.”
“Of course, doll. I’m here for you. Whatever you need,” he kisses the top of your head wishing he could make it all better. For both of you.
Part 10
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𝘖𝘯 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 (𝘖𝘧𝘧 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend had only gotten better. At least, until a new part of the equation came along.
Warnings: unwanted erections, discomfort, past SA (no graphic descriptions), hurt/comfort, shame/humiliation, fluff. As always, let me know if more needs to be added.
[Series Masterlist]
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It had been a month since your shared shower, and things were going great. You and Bucky hadn’t been intimate, but there was an insanely higher amount of intimacy between you.
He held your hand, rested against you. Hell—the two of you even cuddled most nights. And you reveled in it.
And part of you knew he did, too.
You walked into the kitchen, your phone and some other random items in your hands. Bucky was always astounded by the fact that you could hold so many things in one hand. You were positive it came from a lack of pockets for so many years.
“Hey, Buck.” You greeted as you set all of your junk onto the island to be later forgotten.
“Hi.” He said awkwardly as he shuffled around.
You felt your brows furrowing. “You good?”
He nodded, but shuffled off into another room quickly. You didn’t follow, positive he was just having an off day. It happens.
And that was the end of that.
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Your arms slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck and resting on his shoulders as his hands stayed planted on your hips.
The kiss was loving, and downright passionate—like it came straight out of a fanfiction, regardless of if those kinds of kisses were even real.
It lasted a while, both of you pausing for split seconds just to breathe before returning to the kiss.
Until he pulled away suddenly, a strange look in his eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked softly.
“Nothing.” He rushed the word out. “I think I left the oven on from when we made that pizza earlier.” He said as he pulled away and walked out of the bedroom.
You stood there, entirely unsure of what you did wrong.
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You snuggled up against him as he wrapped his strong arms around you. Your back was pressed against his chiseled chest, one of his knees resting on top of yours as he clung to you like a koala.
You closed your eyes, just about to fall asleep. In that same moment, he pulled away and rolled over.
“Woah—are you okay?” You were startled by the sudden movement.
“Yeah. It’s just hot tonight.” He murmured, not turning to look at you.
“Bucky, it’s cold tonight.” You couldn’t help the frustration that leaked into your voice. You instantly regretted it.
“Listen—I’m sorry. It’s just that you’ve been randomly running away and I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.” You confessed.
He sighed. “You’re not doing anything wrong, dollface.”
You paused, waiting for him to continue.
“I—God, this is stupid.” He rubbed at his face.
“It’s not, baby. Just..can you tell me what’s wrong?” You gently prompted.
“It’s not you. I swear.” He assured you, before taking a breath. “It’s—I’m hard.”
You blinked. “What?”
He rolled over to face you, the blanket pulled up on him, resting just under his ribs. “I mean I’m hard, honey.”
“Okay. That—I’m lost.” You told him.
“It’s another shitty thing HYDRA ruined for me.” He began to explain. “Whenever I got—I got like this, there was like, six ways it could go. Sometimes they’d get me like this on purpose then shame or beat me for it. Sometimes they’d do it to me and then fuck me—as a reward, I guess. Sometimes it’d just happen naturally and it could go either way.”
You frowned, letting him continue.
“So..I think now that every time it happens, I just assume..there’ll be some kind of consequence.” He finishes his thought.
“There won’t be,” you murmur, offering your hand. He takes it. “I will never lay a finger on you in anyway that’s not gentle. And I’d never touch you in that way without your explicit permission.”
“I know,” he hummed. “I know that. I don’t think my brain does.”
“Me and your brain will just have to have a ‘stern talking to’ session.” You teased, instantly lightening the mood. He cracked a small smile.
“Can..can we still cuddle?” He asked. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable—“
“We can.” You chuckled. “That stuff doesn’t bother me. It’s just your body doing what it knows to do, babe.”
“I feel like a preteen boy.” He grumbled as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.
You chuckled, not at all bothered by what’s pressing against your thigh. “Womp womp.” You said in a goofy voice, one you knew would make him smile. And he did.
“I love you, Buck.” You hummed into his hair.
“I love you too.” He answered back. And then you shut your eyes, and began to fall asleep.
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A/n: another part! I love this series. If you enjoyed, please REBLOG. likes do nothing 😊
graphics by @saradika-graphics
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a-jar-of-beetles · 6 days
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kristen thoughts plus divine musings
I really want to write out my theory and speculations about last episode but Kristen C. Applebee's won't stop taking up all my brain space so I might as well share my ramblings.
First off it was a really interesting choice to reach out to her parents she could have easily settled for checking in with Bucky to see how he and their other siblings were doing, but decided to talk to her parents anyway which besides being brave also shows a maturity that often alludes Kristen (not that ignoring her parents for the rest of her life is immature but that's not the point I'm making).
Although I wish she could have interacted more with her brothers her conversation with her parents was not as confrontational as I would have expected I for sure thought that Kristen would have bitten back at the "Helio might not have let that happen" comment when Kristen the literal chosen one of Helio has died multiple times.
Another thing that stuck out to me was the way Mac and Donna talked about Galicaea, they acted like she was just some random goddess but in Elysium Galicaea refers to Sol as her brother which is a weird thing for Kristen's parents to ignore so is the fact that Sol and Galicaea are siblings something that not common knowledge? Could it just be something that's forbidden or just taboo to talk about? Mac and Donna were also pretty judgemental about elves when they were first introduced so maybe it has something to do with that?
So that got me thinking about how Cassandra is mostly referred to as Galicaea's sister instead of Sol's while it could just be that they're both associated with night and that they both had elven followers but it made me wonder what type of relationship they had. Were they just never close in Elysium he never mentioned Cassandra but that could have just been because Kristen didn't ask him about her the only real thing we know about Sol is that he obviously approved of Ankarna and Cassandra otherwise he wouldn't have officiated their wedding.
Which brought me back to how Sol followers in the modern/evangelist church of Sol don't seem to actually know or care about what Sol actually represents/represented, which made me think about the inverse. Does Sol even truly know what's going on with his followers? Because of devil's nectar we know Gods can be purposely deceived but we also know that the nectar works by deceiving yourself first so if you truly believe something and tell your God the same they will believe it too because in Spyre the gods aren't omniscient, we've literally seen it with Galicaea who thought that Cassandra erasing her old name was her own idea and the Nightmare King killed her even when there was evidence to the contrary. Do you think her clerics did it on purpose? Whether their words were Honeyed or delusional Galicaea was still lied to. Galicaea who loved her sister, who would destroy anyone that would dare hurt her baby sister, who bared her fangs at the mention of doubt and only spoke of conviction and clarity which belonged to her fallen sister in law.
Do you think that after Cassandra died Ankarna wasn't the only one who got corrupted? Do you think that with out someone to champion doubt and hold peoples hand through the unknown, people stopped questioning the words of their preachers, paladins and clerics? because doubt became hard to speak about was it just ignored and swallowed? Was it the avoidance of doubt that made the followers of Sol demonize Ankarna? Because without Cassandra Ankarna was no longer a part of their family? Sol and Galicaea did they care? How did they when they lost the last part of Cassandra besides themselves? Were they sad?angry? relived? upset? apathetic? Did they even notice it happen at all?
Maybe I've just been thinking too much
IDK
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hogans-heroes · 1 month
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Just thinking about how Gale had to watch and wait as more boys from the 100th started showing up, and Bucky wasn't with them.
How the first question he probably asked, the only one that mattered to him, was where's Bucky? Then once it becomes clear Bucky went down, he adds on, did he make it? And no one can answer him. Some of the guys say they saw his fort go down but didn't see how many parachutes got out. Then Brady or someone who was with him shows up, and Gale asks his questions again. Brady says Bucky was the last one out, but Bucky still doesn't show up.
Gale wonders what option he prefers: Bucky's out there on the run or he's on the way here. He won't consider the third option, won't even let anyone speak it into existence. But the days go on, and fewer and fewer boys from the 100th show up. Then none of them show up. Yet, Gale still waits at the fence, ready with his questions for any familiar face that walks in.
Until finally, Bucky walks in, looking like death but still alive, miraculously blessedly alive, and part of Buck feels alive again, the part that he hadn't dared acknowledge, that had died when he heard Bucky went down come back to life at the site.
What took you so long? Finally, Buck gets to change his question.
Everyone always talks about how Bucky comes back to life when he sees Buck again, how his first question was about Buck, but when I watch that scene, Buck also looks like he's seen a miracle in action.
Fam you drop this gorgeous, heartwrenching piece in my inbox and expect me to NOT be speechless?? Sorry it too me so long to reply.
The idea of Buck waiting patiently at the gate every day begging for any news of Bucky and struggling not to lose more hope with every passing day shatters me. I can see the other guys staying with him as much as they can, for support and comfort, trying to take care of him. No one knows if Bucky made it and no one wants to think about which option is worse for Gale, if they find out for sure Bucky is dead or if they never find out and Gale keeps going to gate, for how long? They’re already seeing him become a shell of himself.
He really does feel alive again Bucky walks through the gate. He can hardly believe it’s real and maybe it takes a few days and a few nights of holding Bucky close that he can believe it.
We have some good post-reunion fics but I’d love to see more, such a lot of potential right there. 🥺
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casdeans-pie · 8 months
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Part 4 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3.
Happy birthday to me! This is my birthday gift to myself so it's deliciously self indulgent for the final part. I honestly could have just kept going with this forever, I adore flustered!Cas and his angel powers lmao
This part got so big I couldn't put the whole chapter in the tumblr post sorry!
Taglist: @dreampencil , @mymisfitsbabe , @fivefeetfangirl , @kerryweaverlesbian , @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back , @mooshroomister , @castielsbloodynose , @the-great-pumpkin-67 , @casavanse , @homoangel - thanks all for your interest, hope you like the conclusion!!
-----Read on AO3-----
---------
If stubbornness was a sin, Dean knew he would be going straight to hell when he died. Again.
There were a million reasons that Dean could think of for why Cas had distanced himself (that buzzed around his brain like insistent bees whenever he lay down to sleep at night) but if they didn’t talk about them then none of them were real. The ache in his chest at Cas’s absence, familiar from when he used to leave them for stretches at a time, felt like it dug in deeper and deeper with every passing day – but he still just couldn’t bring himself to talk to him about it.
The biggest surprise became the slow realisation that the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ wasn’t just some made up cliché bullshit that people said to each other, because seeing Cas, even briefly before he scurried away, made Dean’s heart sing like a lovesick teenage girl.
Sam only suffered through so much before he started using his Sad-Sam-Eyes whenever he saw them both, hoping they would finally sort out whatever was going on between them, but he didn’t mention it otherwise. Somehow that made it even worse. If Sam told them to talk to each other, at least that could have been a good excuse. But no.
Dean had to do something on his own.
He had to.
He’d started all of this by being a jerk about Cas’s powers, so it was time to dip into that Dean Winchester Courage, have a real conversation about all of this, and face losing his best friend – the Angel that he loved – head on.
------
Then they finally had a hunt together. Alone.
Dean’s bloody machete hung in a loose grip by his side as he kicked the toe of his boot at the decapitated body on the ground beside him. The head lay nearby.
“Think we finally got ‘em all,” Dean said with a grin. His clothes were covered in splashes of blood, and he could feel some drying on his cheek that he was itching to scratch off with his nail. “I love a good vamp nest clear-out, but if I’d have known there were gonna be this many, I would’ve brought Sam as extra back-up.” Dean didn’t want to mention that the reason he’d told Sam to stay behind in the first place was because he’d finally stopped being chickenshit scared about sorting this thing out with Cas. “Not that we didn’t handle it.” He gestured towards the headless bodies scattered around them with his machete.
Cas didn’t reply. He’d been quiet in the ride over and had kept his distance for the whole fight.
Okay. Time’s up. Time to do this. Dean took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. “Cas, listen-”
“Dean!” Cas yelled, slamming into him just as the sound of a gunshot exploded nearby.
Dean went hurtling down as another gunshot rang out. He landed heavily – the floor winded him and disorientated him enough that he couldn’t get straight back up, and he shook his head rapidly to try to clear it.
There were sounds of Cas wrestling with the vampire nearby. Dean watched dazedly as the vampire snarled and bared his fangs as he threw a punch at Cas’s nose, and his fist connected with a thud. But that gave Cas the opportunity to wrench the gun out of the vampire’s weakened grasp, and he tossed it aside, making it skitter harmlessly across the floor into a dark corner of the warehouse.
Red bloomed through the top of Cas’s trench coat on his left shoulder.
“Cas!” Dean warned, finally scrambling to his feet just as the vampire grabbed Cas and threw him down with a hiss onto the dusty, blood-spattered floor.
The vampire loomed over him with an open mouth full of needle-sharp teeth just as Cas sat up with a grunt and threw up his hand with his palm out. Dean recognised the gesture, and he immediately braced himself for the blinding light of Cas’s angelic smitey powers, but only a faint sputtering glow emerged from his hand.
After a moment, where Cas stared at his hand in confusion, the vampire hissed and lunged.
He never got any further.
Dean’s machete swung in a clean shining arc through the vampire’s neck, and he collapsed in a heap like a puppet with cut strings. The spray of blood caught Cas, smattering his face and hair with even more crimson alongside what currently trickled out of his nose and soaked his shoulder.
Dean groaned in relief and threw the machete to the concrete floor with a clang. “Definitely the last one,” he declared with a deep breath. “Damn that got close for a second there. Come on, up you get.” Dean offered out a hand to help Cas, but he pushed himself up with a groan instead, pointedly not looking at the hand as if he hadn’t noticed it.
Dean tried to shrug it off again, just like he had all the other times that Cas refused to touch him recently, but he could feel the hurt burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He clenched his fist so tightly it almost hurt as he returned it to his side.
“You okay?” Dean asked instead with a frown, thinking of the gunshots, and noticing the blood stain on Cas’s shoulder increasing in size.
“Yes. The first bullet got me, but the second bullet missed. I think it went clean through. Didn’t hit anything vital.” Cas touched his shoulder and winced, then observed Dean – his blue eyes raking him up and down from head to foot. “What about you? Are you hurt?”
Dean shook his head, the mixture of hurt and concern and happiness at the closest attention he’d got from Cas in weeks making his words come out harsher than he intended when he snapped, “Nope. My bullet-proof friend pushed me out of the way, and then revealed that he’s not so bullet-proof today.”
Cas smiled ruefully. “Ah. Yes. Looks that way.” He dusted his trench coat off as best he could and lifted an arm to wipe his sleeve across his nose – though he only succeeded in smearing the dust and blood around. He closed his eyes and rubbed again.
Dean pushed down his confusing cocktail of emotions, like he always did, and forced on a smile. “You’re just making it worse, buddy. Why’s killing vamps always such a bloody job?” He reached over without thinking, while Cas was still rubbing at his nose. “Nose doesn’t look broken at least, but your shoulder’s probably gonna need stitches while you’re low on power like this.”
Dean’s fingers had barely even grazed the fabric on Cas’s shoulder before Cas flinched back violently.
The lights in the warehouse groaned and buzzed as they flickered and dimmed, and then just as quickly returned to normal.
Cas’s eyes were wide as he took another step back.
Dean felt all his confusion sharpen into a frustrated stab of white-hot anger. He gestured violently at the ceiling. “Okay. Y’know what. That’s it. Let’s talk. What the hell is going on with you, Cas? Why have you been avoiding me? What’s the deal with the lights?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Nothing you need to know about.”
“Nothing I- are you even hearing yourself right now? You’re really gonna admit to keeping secrets again after everything we’ve been through? And- hey, what’s up with your face? What are you doing?”
Cas had screwed his eyes together so tight that it pinched his whole expression. “Concentrating.”
“On what? This conversation that you’re trying not to be in?”
“On using my Grace to heal my shoulder and clean all of this off, but it’s not…” Cas gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. They glowed faintly. “It’s not working.”
Dean took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Cas. You know you’re low on power right now, you really want to use up what little juice you got left before you get chance to recharge? The motel’s only twenty minutes away.” He scowled. “You can even sit in the back. Far away from me, like you want.”
Dean didn’t wait for a response, he turned, reached down for his abandoned machete, and stalked back to Baby.
By the time Cas finally got into the car – in the back – Dean had already texted Sam to tell him that the nest had been cleared out and they would be spending the night at the motel.
They’d be back at the bunker tomorrow, and then Cas could keep avoiding him like before. Or maybe he’d finally just admit that he wanted to leave… and he’d go. The thought made Dean clench the steering wheel with a grip that made his knuckles white.
He couldn’t imagine his life without Cas in it.
The ride to the motel was tense and silent except for Baby’s engine that Dean pushed harder than he should. (The twenty-minute ride only took them ten. Cas didn’t comment on it.)
As soon as they were through the door Dean toed off his shoes, flicked on all the lights, and went to wash his hands in the bathroom. He didn’t look back to see what Cas was doing. It was none of his business. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then what did he care. (He tried to tell himself, even as the ache in his chest pounded and felt cavernous.)
Dean splashed some water on his face and gripped the sides of the grubby sink. Water plinked pink from his chin into the chipped basin, as the vampire blood washed away down the plughole.
After a deep breath Dean grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his face, careful not to inhale at the same time – he’d learned a long time ago that it was best not to know what motel towels smelt like – and reached for the first aid kit he always left in the bathroom when they went on hunts.
Sufficiently calmed down, and feeling less like his heart was caught in the vice grip of a homicidal ghost, Dean turned and emerged back into the main room. He froze mid-step at what he saw: Cas had his head in his hands, perched on the edge of his bed, while the blood stains from his bullet wound were soaking through his coat down his arm. He hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, and there seemed to be a particularly troubled tenseness to the set of his shoulders. Even more than usual. Despite their strained relationship recently, it cut Dean deeply to see him like that – so clearly suffering and so human.
Dean sat heavily onto his own bed opposite Cas. The old springs creaked loudly and protested at the sudden weight. “Alright. Coat off.”
Cas startled and snapped his head up. The lamp beside his bed flickered weakly. “What?”
Dean’s usual enthusiasm for the phenomenon of the flickering lights wasn’t his priority this time, and he pushed his curiosity aside. “Stitches,” Dean said simply, brandishing the first aid kit.
“I don’t need them,” Cas grumbled, looking away. “Once my Grace has recharged enough it will heal on its own.”
“Oh okay, so you’re just going to wait and see if your mojo recharges faster than you bleed? And you’re, what, expecting me to just sit here while we find out? Because I am not okay with that.”
“Yes.”
“Cas. Just let me put some damn stitches in your damn shoulder.”
“No.” The muscles in Cas’s jawline clenched.
Dean scowled as he ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky and matted with drying blood, but that was nothing new. “Let me put it this way. You either take off your coat and shirt willingly, or I will tackle you to that bed and remove them myself” – the lamp flickered again – “so help me God, don’t think that I won’t. Your choice.” Dean had his eyes locked on Cas’s narrowed ones. “I will not let you suffer when I can do something about it. Yeah, you might heal it up yourself in an hour or two, but I’m not going to sit here watching you bleeding and in pain, when I can help. Don’t ask me to.”
“Dean… This is just… It’s a bad idea.”
“A bad idea? To stop you from bleeding out? C’mon man, you’re always healing me up after hunts, let me repay the favor for once. Besides, you took the shot meant for me – it should be me sitting there with the bullet hole.”
Cas went suddenly pale, and his eyebrows drew together in a serious line. “If it were, I would use up whatever Grace I had left to heal you.”
Oh.
Dean blinked in surprise.
Huh. But Cas had been avoiding him so much lately... He’d assumed he didn’t care anymore. “Uh,” Dean faltered, “no, that wouldn’t be okay either. I wouldn’t want that. But maybe I should teach you some basic first aid now that your mojo gets patchy sometimes.” He shook his head. That would require them to be in the same room for more than five minutes. Stupid suggestion. “Look, if you’d want to heal me that badly if we were swapped over here, that’s what I want to do to you right now, get it?”
“I um. I think so.” The line between Cas’s eyebrows grew deeper. “It’s fine now anyway. It barely hurts,” he lied, gripping his shoulder tightly.
“Sure. Okay, Black Knight.”
Cas squinted.
“The Black Knight – ‘‘tis but a flesh wound’? Guess you didn’t get Monty Python in the pop-culture upload. We’ll add it to the list we-” But Dean remembered that they didn’t watch movies together anymore. “Doesn’t matter. Just take your damn coat off, you stubborn son of a bitch.”
That finally cracked a smile onto Cas’s pale face. His lips twitched and the corners of his eyes crinkled endearingly.
Dean felt a strong flare of affection at seeing Cas’s smile, after seeing him looking so defeated before, that it immediately softened all of Dean’s concern-masked-as-irritation and he found himself smiling back. He’d missed this. So damn much.
“I’ll patch you up,” Dean said gently, “then you get dibs on the first shower, since you’re the one covered in the most blood. Winchester tradition.”
“I don’t need-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, you can just magic your mess away when your power’s back on, but you’re really just gonna sit here like that until then?”
Cas looked down at himself. “You have a point.”
“Always do. Looks like you’ll just have to enjoy shitty motel water pressure like the rest of us.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “And going first means you get the hottest water.”
“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said.
“Then we can both go to sleep so you can recharge your batteries. You can sleep when you’re like this, right? But stitches first. After that there’ll be no touching involved,” Dean added, before he could stop himself. As much as he enjoyed talking to Cas again, it only served as a depressing reminder that they weren’t like this anymore. He gave a sad, weak little laugh, and even he could hear the pain in his voice when he said, “Y’don’t even have to look at me.”
Cas immediately slid off his bed with a rustle, and he was on his knees in front of Dean in the time it took for him to open his mouth to ask what was happening. His eyes shined wetly in the dingy motel room lighting as he gazed up intensely – vulnerable and raw – into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, no. This wasn’t supposed to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” Cas said in a voice thick with emotion. “Doing this – distancing myself… It was supposed to make things better, but it… only made everything worse. I hate being apart from you. I hate it. This wasn’t- it’s not- it’s not your fault.” He spoke haltingly, like he was struggling. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know how to explain-”
They were closer than they had been in weeks, and yet Dean could still feel the distance. His heart sunk. “This is starting to feel a whole lot like the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, man.”
Cas scrunched his face up, and Dean knew he was trying to think of a way to say what he meant. He wondered if Angels weren’t very big talkers in their true forms. It was reminiscent of when they first met, and how Cas used to struggle with sarcasm and slang.
Cas already told him once that he’d only started to feel real, strong emotions (Dean called them his Real Boy Feelings) since rescuing him from Hell, so it made sense that he still struggled sometimes. And anyway, Dean had been human his whole life and it wasn’t like he was much better at the whole sharing your feelings crap.
Cas finally looked up through his lashes at him – his expression wary. “Hold out your hand, Dean.”
“What?”
“Hold out your hand, please. I can show you what’s been going on.”
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