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#falcon imagines
heliads · 2 years
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Hi, Lisa! I’m back, with a request that is surprisingly NOT Newsies!
I would like to request a Sam Wilson x Reader, where the Reader goes on missions with Sam and has the power to heal most physical wounds, with one drawback: healing someone else’s injuries creates a scar on a random spot on the Reader’s body.
During a mission, the Reader heals a pretty bad injury dealt to Sam, and he’s fine, but the Reader winds up with a large, ugly scar right on their neck where everyone can see it. Sam and the Reader have always had kind of a quiet flirtation going on, but now Sam starts to distance himself from the Reader, because he feels super guilty for causing them such a bad scar and doesn’t want them to get hurt anymore because of him.
The Reader, on the other hand, thinks Sam is avoiding them because he’s started to be disgusted by all their scars, and this both hurts them and pisses them off. Eventually, they choose to confront Sam, and the two of them get into an argument about how it’s not Sam’s job to protect the Reader, when Sam accidentally blurts out his feelings. The Reader says that they like him back, and then there’s just sort of a fluffy apology?
Sorry, this was a really long request (😅). If you don’t want to write it or you want me to shorten it, that’s totally cool! Thanks and have an awesome day!!
- Raven 🏳️‍🌈
sorry this took so long to post! the other one will be coming in another few days :))
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Sam Wilson leans up against the open door to the Avengers clinic, smiling sincerely for the first time in what feels like far too long. He knows most of his coworkers tend to stay away from this place; it’s too scrubbed clean, too austere, host to too many bad memories of when missions went a little more south than they should.
Still, he likes it. The sharp scent of antiseptic is a familiar one, and takes him back to being a kid, scrubbing kitchen counters under his mother’s eye or being in a doctor’s office of his own after skinning his knee over something he could have taken a little more slowly but never did. No, he bears no grudge against these rooms.
This is especially true because of the woman inside, the one who’s just bidding farewell to another patient. She rubs the back of her neck, grimacing over a combination of a stiff neck and the aftereffects of saving yet another life. Y/N still manages to meet Sam’s gaze with a smile, though. He’s never sure how she does it every time.
He clears his throat. “You know, most of us tend to stock up on rest before we go on a mission. I don’t think anyone else is putting in the work right now.”
Y/N laughs. “Oh, come on. You know me. I could never stay away if I thought I could do some good.”
She gestures listlessly between herself and the rest of the clinic, and Sam gives her his own quiet smile.
“I do know you.”
It’s a calm sentiment, one he’s been carefully cultivating for a month or two now. It is easy to talk to Y/N, it always has been. She reminds Sam that he’s human, that he’s able to make mistakes and still enjoy himself while he’s doing it. It’s funny that she would be the one to convince himself he’s still got a normally beating heart, because the primary reason Y/N is here at all is because she doesn’t share in Sam’s supposed humanity.
Y/N is an inhuman, one who joined the Avengers team about six months ago. She’s an active duty nurse of sorts, a genius and miracle worker whose gift is to heal any injury with nothing more than a touch of her fingers. There is, however, a catch to her powers, which is that for every wound Y/N mends, she gains a scar somewhere on her body. Many are small, but some are longer, the size of a finger or even a hand. 
Most of the time, Y/N wears longer clothes to hide the multitude of scars wrapping around her body, but Sam is pleased to note that she’s started to discard this tradition. Her gift feels like the physical embodiment of something that burns in Sam as well as Y/N; helping people no matter the cost. At least in Y/N, her sacrifices are finally recognized. Why should she have to hide the evidence of all those that she has saved?
She’ll probably have to use her gifts again in the imminent future, too. The Avengers have another mission lined up, this one targeting rogue members of HYDRA that tried to disappear back when the Triskelion exploded. Most of HYDRA went back into the shadows since their exposure, but a few have dared to poke their heads out once more.
S.H.I.E.L.D. is sending a crack team of three or four Avengers to go track down the HYDRA agents and see if they can catch a larger web of enemy spies while they’re at it. Sam has thoughts about whether or not this is just S.H.I.E.L.D. forcing the Avengers to clean up S.H.I.E.L.D.’s own mess instead of doing it themselves, but that’s neither here nor there.
Regardless, he’ll be shipping out, as will Y/N, just in case. He’s been sent to collect her and also make sure she’s not overexerting herself before a mission. Sam can confirm that she is indeed overexerting herself, although he’s definitely here so he can talk to her as well. Everyone has different motivations, some of them not exactly aligned with S.H.I.E.L.D. principles of never forming friendships.
Y/N puts a couple boxes of bandages back on the shelves of the clinic, dusts off her hands, and smiles at Sam. “Alright, then. Let’s go, shall we? I’d hate to keep this mission waiting.”
Sam closes the door after her. “Can’t wait.”
The Avengers do at least get a Quinjet to ferry them over, which is nice. If Sam’s going to risk his life for someone else’s cause, he can at least do so in comfort. He takes the time to ready his wings, and by the time they’re dropping off, he’s good to go.
Sam is air support, as per usual, and remains on the Quinjet with a couple of other agents and Y/N while he waits for the signal to go in. He gets it just fifteen minutes later. Evidently, the HYDRA agents don’t want to be caught, as expected, and are running as fast as they can to their helicopters to get the hell out.
Sam nods at Y/N in goodbye, then heads towards the exit ramp of the Quinjet, which is starting to disengage, still in the sky. He jumps out, then extends the wings of his suit and starts to fly towards the dots of HYDRA aircraft starting to grow bigger with every passing second.
Sam has done many missions like this before, but it’s still a rush. There’s something about being up here, flying like he’s just another extension of the wind itself, that makes him feel unstoppable. Out here, who could bring him down? Who could possibly stand in his way?
Sam connects with the HYDRA choppers about five minutes later, ducking under the spinning blades to grab the agents inside. They stare at him, shocked, as he tosses them from the plane. They’ve got parachutes on already, which Sam sets off just before they start to fall. There’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. truck on the ground beneath him, ready to collect the agents as they come.
Already, Sam’s getting radio confirmation that the other Avengers have started to capture the descending enemy forces. He moves from one helicopter to the next, as easily as playing hopscotch. He’s done this before, and he’ll do it again. Just another day in his line of work.
It should be simple. It is simple, or Sam thinks it is until he gets rid of the last HYDRA agent and hears a strange beeping noise coming from the back of the helicopter. Confused, he starts towards it, and just has time to register a timer counting down before the entire craft explodes.
The force of it knocks Sam unconscious for a moment or two, and when he wakes up, he’s spiraling towards the ground. His wings have been hit hard, and despite Sam’s best efforts, he can’t get them to steady. None of the fail-safes are working.
The truth sets in, sudden as a thunderstorm. Sam is going down. There is nothing he can do to save himself. Distantly, he wonders if this is how Riley felt, if his former wingman had even had time to think about what had happened after he connected with the RPG. Sam is falling faster and faster. The sky, once his domain, is shuttling away from him as the ground expands behind him.
Just before he makes contact with the ground, Sam pulls himself into a controlled dive, using the battered metal of his wings to provide some sort of cover. It isn’t enough, though. He was up too high, and even without the disastrous impact, Sam knows that he isn’t going to make it out. 
When he’s finally able to assess the situation, Sam knows that it’s bad. One of the metal tips of his wings broke off, and judging by a sudden rush of pain and blood, it has become lodged in his neck. This is it, then. After everything, he’s taken out by what should have been a simple mission.
It’s funny, Sam always thought that he would know when his last battle would be his last. It would feel suitably important, and he would be able to draw his final breath knowing that he gave his best. This, of course, is foolish. Every day, soldiers die over nothing, and Sam doesn’t know why he thought he’d be an exception. Always an overachiever, his sister would say. God, he wishes he could see her again, just one last time. She’ll never recover from this, not after their parents.
There’s a figure sprinting over to him, then kneeling over his body. A moment or two later, Sam recognizes it as Y/N. She takes his hand, and he tries to squeeze it back, but he can’t force the digits to move. She’s crying, Sam realizes through the fog in his head. He wants to tell her that it’s alright, but she knows the comforting lies too well that the effort would be wasted anyway.
Sam doesn’t expect her gift to work, but for some reason, instead of being engulfed by the wracking pain in his body, Sam feels himself swept away by the tide of something different. It feels like he’s bathed in electricity, a sparking wave of sensation crackling over him. The metal chunk falls away from his throat, and he can practically feel the skin and bones reknitting. He’s never had an injury this bad, and he’s never had a healing like this before. It’s astounding.
Sam sits up slowly, unable to believe that he’s still alive. “You saved me.”
Y/N chuckles, although she looks exhausted. “It’s kind of my job, Wilson. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, alright?”
“I can’t thank you enough,” he says, although Sam’s astounded smile is already starting to fall away from his face. Before his own undeserving eyes, he can see a large scar blossoming to life across Y/N’s throat, right where Sam’s own injury had been. It’s far bigger and far worse than any of Y/N’s other scars, practically monstrous. 
Sam has never minded Y/N’s scars. Not once, not ever, or so he’d told himself. This one, though? This is his fault. Sam should have left that helicopter the second he heard the beeping sound. His mistake almost cost him his life, and although Sam is obviously delighted to be alive, he can’t swallow his guilt. Healing him could have seriously hurt Y/N, and it’s already caused her this scar.
Now, forcing himself up and off of the blood soaked ground, Sam regrets it. He did this to Y/N, someone who matters so much to him. He’s hurt her, something he swore he’d never do. He’ll never forgive himself for this. So what if it’s her gift to heal people? Sam should have saved her instead of the other way around, and he failed. Nothing in this world can erase that.
. . .
You don’t think you’ve ever felt more tired. Your gift has always exhausted you, but it feels as if the days are getting harder and harder with every passing week. Of course, that could be for another reason, too; you feel more alone than ever, and it’s all due to the absence of one man: Sam Wilson.
You don’t think you’ll be so terrified as when you’d found him on the ground. Had you been even half a second later, he wouldn’t have survived. You’ve never had such a close call. If you hadn’t been able to save Sam, you don’t know that you would ever forgive yourself. This was the one healing that mattered the most, this one above all others.
Yet for all of the effort and timing, Sam seems to hate you for it. He used to stop by the clinic almost every day just to see you, and you don’t think you’ve actually had a proper conversation with him since before that ill-fated mission. You’ve seen him a couple times around the base, even sunk so low as to try and find him yourself, but every encounter ends the same way, with him walking away from you. There’s no saving this, healing powers be damned.
The worst part is the few moments that happen before Sam leaves. Every time without fail, his eyes find the scar on your throat, the new one that came when you saved him. You know it’s huge, far bigger than the others, but you didn’t think he would be as disgusted by it as he is now. 
Everyone else pities you for the scars, you’ve known that since day one, but Sam has always been the blessed exception. He’s made you feel like a saint even when you don’t deserve it, but his sympathy ended the day you saved his life. During the few seconds when you see him, Sam makes you feel the weight of the scar in a way he never did before. You are able to forget about the scars when you don’t see him, but with Sam’s heavy gaze, it’s impossible to feel like you’re anything but the damaged tissue.
In all honesty, you hate it. At first, it was devastating. All you wanted was to see Sam safe, and some more charitable part of you said that this was worth it, that having him alive was worth the cost of him hating you. Your entire life is risk and reward, benefit and consequence. You can heal people, but you get the scars. You can join the Avengers, but using your gift so often keeps you feeling like you’re one bad day away from collapse. Now, you don’t have to attend another funeral, but the one man who truly matters can’t stand the sight of you.
Yes, you’re angry. How dare he treat you like this, like a broken doll whose edges used to be perfect and pristine? You have no right to the shadows, you’re just as worthy of being out in the sunlight as him. So, when you enter the training room of the Avengers facility early one morning and find the place empty of everyone but Sam, you decide that you’ve had it, once and for all.
Sam glances up when you arrive, eyes flickering automatically to the scar before he forces himself to look away. “Good morning,” he says out of necessity, although there’s no warmth behind the words.
You laugh coldly. “You wouldn’t know it,” you say, “You look like you’ve just seen a murderer in the flesh. Although I suppose that’s just your new reaction to having to be around me.”
Sam’s head flies up. “What are you talking about?” He asks, although he sounds doubtful of his own right to be surprised.
You give him a look. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Ever since I got this scar, you’ve treated me like a monster. I mean, I suppose I should give you a round of applause for even being able to be in the same room as me for longer than a minute. I don’t think you’ve managed that in weeks.”
Sam sighs, glancing away again. “I haven’t wanted–”
You cut him off sharply. “No, don’t make excuses for it. You’ve been avoiding me. I thought you were different, Sam. I thought you were better than this.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not what you think. I’m not afraid of you, Y/N, I’m afraid of what almost happened. Saving me could have killed you, and I can’t have that happen again.”
You arch a brow. “So you’re now my protector? You don’t get to decide who I save. I wanted to save you, and I’ll do it again, even if you hate me for it.”
Sam steps forward impulsively. “Are you even listening to me? I want you alive, Y/N. I need you alive. That’s what matters most of all, and I can’t stand my own guilt because I nearly killed you on that mission.”
You let out a slow breath. “Why would your guilt possibly be that bad? No one else has this problem. So what if it gave me a bad scar, I have plenty more. What reason could you possibly have to avoid me because you feel so bad?”
Sam’s jaw clenches, but even his best efforts can’t keep the truth hidden. “I love you, alright? That’s why. I can’t stand the fact that I almost killed you because I would die to protect you. It shouldn’t be the other way around.”
He says it like it’s the bare, obvious truth, but you’re still stunned. “What?”
Sam nods slowly. “I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you, but I can’t stop feeling like I could have killed you. I’d never forgive myself for that if I did.”
You smile. “And I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t save you, Sam. Risks come with our line of work. We can handle them.”
Sam reaches out and takes your hand. “Is that your way of saying that you forgive me?”
Your smile deepens. “It is.” You certainly do forgive him. All you needed to know was that he doesn’t hate you, and far from it. He loves you just as much as you love him: inconceivably, overwhelmingly, all you have ever needed and all you will need until forever.
marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes
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mushrubes · 1 year
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Catch you
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Masterlist | marvel masterlist |
Requested : no
prompt 49. “I’ll catch you–trust me! … So I dropped you one time–we don’t have the time to argue about this!” 
Pairing : sam wilson x (they/them) reader
Type : fluff
Word count : 363
you’re so loved!! <3
——————————–
“Surely there’s some other way!” Y/n groaned, hoping someone would tell them there was but no other voice came but Sam’s. “Come on, Y/n/n!” Sam huffed, equally as annoyed as them as he flew past another helicopter, using the missile they shot to blow it up. “Not after last time!” They defended, hitting a hydra employee in the head, knocking them out. “Hate to interrupt this lovers quarrel but Y/n, you have a minute left in there.” Natasha informed, Y/n groaning again and face palming, before punching backwards, hitting the enemy trying to sneak up on them. “Surely there’s another way!” they asked, looking out the window and trying to spot somewhere to fall - most of it was the city and they would either die or have significant injuries. “There isn’t, now stop complaining and just let me come and catch you!” Sam instructed, flying closer to the building.
“Y/n! You have around fifteen seconds!” Natasha reminded; slight panic evident in her tone. “I’ll catch you - trust me! So, I dropped you one time....” Sam started, whispering under his breath as he tried to get over quicker already seeing the building starting to blow from the other side. “We don’t have time to argue!” Sam alarmed, getting closer. Y/n took a deep breath, looking behind them and seeing flames and the loud bangs coming closer. They spotted Sam closer and nodded. “You better catch me or God help you, Wilson.” they winced, stepping back before running at the window, smashing it and grimacing as they saw themself falling towards the ground. Their eyes shut as they saw the concrete getting closer, bracing themself for the hard impact - but it never came.
“I told you!” Sam cheered, smiling down at Y/n who he was now carrying in his arms, making sure to get away before landing near the ship they had arrived on, putting Y/n down. “You alright?” he asked, placing a hand on their shoulder as he saw them catching their breath. They looked up at him with a soft smile, placing their hand on top of his. “Yeah...yeah, thank you Sam.” they replied, hugging Sam. 
“They’re both so oblivious.”
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vader-anakin · 8 months
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"The incredibly annoying guy in front of me with the staring problem".
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urdepressedslut · 9 months
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Just Like That
♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: While you two were supposed to be repairing Sam’s boat, you end up giving Bucky head instead.
♡ Warnings: SMUT, blowjobs, deepthroating/face fucking, slight praise kink, literally no plot just filth
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+
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He couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting into your lips, the way your tongue ran on the underside of his dick— tracing the bulging vein.
“Doll… oh my… fuckkk.” He moaned out, his flesh hand tangling their fingers into your hair.
You hummed, sending vibrations into his dick. The action had him gripping your hair tight, the slight pain from your scalp shooting straight to your core. The throb had you whining around his length.
“Making me feel s’ good baby.” He praised breathlessly, easing his grip on your hair— petting it down soothingly.
You flattened your palms on his thighs, pushing forward until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat.
His hips bucked instinctively, almost crying out at the way your throat was squeezing him. He grabbed the doorway of the boat, the wood splintering in his metal grip.
You pulled all the way off of him, before swallowing his entire length again— gagging as his head hit deeper in the back of your throat.
“S’ fucking good baby…” He whimpered, his head tilted back in ecstasy.
You snuck a hand down, playing with his balls, letting your other hand pump his length. You glanced up at him— spit leaking from your lips. You watched with lust filled eyes as he panted and whined.
“James… you’re so hard,” You purred, his head snapping down at you, “Bet you’re close, huh?”
He let out a pathetic whine as you squeezed his balls—his face contorted in pain.
“Words baby.” You demanded, leaning forward to swirl your tongue around his head.
His hips twitched slightly, the sensation of your tongue massaging around his tip heavenly. He let out a deep moan, feeling your tongue lick over his slit.
“S’ close doll— just like that.” He praised, letting his fingers comb through your hair.
There was something about you kneeling before him, eyes glossed over with lust, as the tears trailed down your cheeks— that made him absolutely feral. The position was so submissive, yet you held all the power. He was melting at your touch— his body putty at your hands.
You pumped his achingly hard length, giving his tip kitten licks. With your free hand caressing his thigh, you could feel the muscle twitch under your palm.
“Gonna cum James?” You asked hoarsely, his hazed over eyes meeting with yours.
You captured his length again, deepthroating him until your nose was buried into the hairs at the base of his cock. You gagged again, the convulsion from your throat making him growl in pleasure.
“Oh… that— keep doing that baby fuck…” He begged, his hips having a mind of their own, rocking into your face.
You whined around him, trying to breathe through your nose as he began to fuck your throat.
You reached around, grabbing handfuls of his ass— kneading the flesh. The action only made his thrusts deeper, his moans needier.
His thrusts were harsher, his needs a priority and if he had to use your face to chase his high— so be it. You on the other hand, we’re dripping. Your pussy was throbbing, him manhandling you making your entire body tingle— ache with desire.
He was nearly crying, his pants mixed with whines, getting impossibly close to the edge. You whimpered around him, his sounds only edging you on.
“Fuck baby… yes— you’re fucking mine,” He growled, his length growing impossibly harder at the image of you crying around him, “All mine.”
Your nails dug into the skin on his ass, your face drenched in tears, salvia leaking out of your mouth and down your chin. You gagged again, spurring him on further, his thrusts quicker. He grabbed your head, fucking your face with such force and suddenly he was pushing impossibly deeper in your throat, your jaw aching.
With an animalistic groan, he was spilling his seed down your throat. His breathing slowing, the waves of euphoria flowing throughout him. He stayed like that for a moment, relishing the feel of your throat around him.
At last, he released his death grip on your head. Slipping his cock from your throat with a hiss, his head sensitive. You gasped, panting in attempts to fill your lungs with the needed air.
With hooded eyes, Bucky gazed down at you with pleasure hazed eyes. His cock twitched at your flushed face, the tears tracks mixing with your spit— and his cum that had snuck out. Your eyes were slightly bloodshot, but as you gazed up at him— you were looking at him with such desire. You looked as if you were just getting started, and you wanted to devour him again.
“Such a good girl.” He whispered, voice hoarse.
He cradled your face, caressing your clammy cheek. He gently pulled you up, helping support your swaying state. You leaned into his palm, holding his gaze with adoration.
“I love you James.” You spoke into his palm, placing a kiss on his rough skin.
“I love you more baby.” He told you, wrapping his metal arm around your lower back, pulling you flush to him. “Now, let me return the favor.”
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vigilante-3073 · 2 months
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Apology Flowers
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky buys you flowers.
TW: Fluff, nervous Bucky, pre-established relationship, lovesick Bucky.
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Bucky stood in front of the flower stand, bright blue eyes running over all the colorful options. He knew that every flower had meaning, but seeing the sheer variety had him lost.
"Can I help you find something, Sir?" The elderly salesperson asked.
Bucky sighed, "Yeah, I could definitely use some help. I'm looking to buy flowers for my girl, but I'm feeling a little lost," He confessed with a small smile.
"Well, what's her favorite color, dear?" The woman asked.
"She really likes pink," Bucky said.
"Then we have a place to start. Is there a special occasion at all?" She asked.
"No, not really. I had to go out of town for a few days on short notice and didn't get to say goodbye before I left," Bucky said.
It wasn't necessarily a lie, he did have to leave town on short notice. The poor woman didn't need to know that he had been traveling the world with Sam Wilson to stop a terrorist group.
"That's very sweet, there's not many men like you around anymore," She mused, scanning the options.
"Don't I know it," Bucky muttered.
"Ah," She said suddenly, locating what she had been looking for.
The woman gathered multiple pink and white flowers together, tilting the top of the assorted bouquet towards Bucky.
"How's that, dear?" She asked, Bucky smiled.
"It's perfect," He said.
....
Bucky made his way down the hallway towards the small apartment that he shared with Y/N.
He took a deep breath as he tucked a hand into his pocket to pull out his keys.
She would be pissed and he knew that he deserved it. Bucky had practically disappeared, no calls or texts to explain anything.
He had only sent one: 'With Sam. Be home soon'
Then his phone died. And that was a few days ago.
Bucky slid his key into the lock before opening the door and stepping into the apartment.
"Doll, you home?" He called.
Y/N appeared around the corner quickly, rushing over to meet him.
"Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick," She said, pressing herself against his chest as she hugged him tightly.
Bucky wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush the bouquet.
He felt like he could finally relax for the first time in days. Bucky hadn't realized how much he missed her until she was in his arms again.
"I'm so sorry, doll. Sam and I got caught up in something big and I couldn't just leave him," Bucky said.
She pulled away, cupping his cheeks and inspecting the bruises and cuts littering his skin. He had hoped they would heal more before seeing her again.
"I'm gonna kill him," Y/N muttered.
"I'm okay," Bucky assured, thumb brushing across her hip gently.
Her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled, "Bucky, what happened? Why didn't you call me?" She asked.
"My phone died," Bucky stated.
She huffed, "You are so lucky that I love you as much as I do," Y/N said.
"I brought you flowers... I know it doesn't make up for what I did, but I'm really sorry" He said, holding the bouquet up for her to see.
She took the bundle from his hand, smiling softly as she sniffed the petals, "Thank you, Bucky," Y/N said.
She rose up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss.
Bucky leaned forward, chasing her lips as she pulled away. He slid his arms around her waist, "Kiss me like you missed me?" He asked.
Y/N's smile widened, hand resting on the side of his neck with her thumb resting along the curve of his jaw as she brought his lips to her's.
Bucky moved his lips against her's, his hands sliding under the material of her t-shirt to rest against her bare skin.
Bucky thanked his lucky stars for whatever he had done right in his life to deserve someone as amazing as her.
He hoped that the small velvet ring box hidden away in the back of his drawer would show just how much he loved her, but that's a story for another time.
Y/N pulled away, "I need to put these flowers in some water. Why don't you hop in the shower and I will meet you there?" She proposed.
"I love you so damn much," He mumbled.
"I love you too. Now go before I change my mind," She smiled.
Bucky pressed another quick kiss to her lips before he released her, making his way down the hallway in the direction of their bedroom.
Bucky Barnes loved his woman.
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littleredwolf · 1 year
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The Sleepover
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Words: 1,740
Summary: Bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while but he is yet to spend the night at her place. After breaking down barriers and allowing himself to drop his guard, Bucky soon decides it’s finally time to take the next step. 
Warnings: Mentions of Bucky’s PTSD/recovery 
A/N: This was inspired by the scene in TFATWS that shows Bucky waking up on his apartment floor. It’s such a visceral moment that sheds light on just how much trauma he carries with him, and I wanted to bring some lightness to that in the form of Y/N. Long story short, I just wanted our favourite super soldier to receive the comfort he so desperately needs and deserves.
--
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Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the unmistakable roar of Bucky’s motorcycle pulling up outside, and you launched yourself off the couch to greet him. The two of you had been dating for a little over four months now but tonight was the first time he was staying over and you were practically vibrating with excitement. 
You had met a year ago when you’d been paired together on a scouting mission in Bucharest, spending an intensive four weeks trailing a suspected arms dealer. After spending the better half of a month shacked up together in a dingy apartment, it was inevitable you'd open up to one another eventually. After months of skirting around your feelings and your friends encouraging you both to speak up, the two of you had eventually plucked up the courage to confess your feelings and the rest, as the saying goes, was history. 
Bucky had been a true gentleman from the very beginning and had confessed early on that he'd wanted to take things slow - it had been a long time since he'd courted a woman and thanks to his coloured past he'd all but given up on the prospect of love, so the concept of a relationship was one he still sometimes struggled to get his head around. 
You understood completely and had made every effort not to overwhelm him. You were fully aware of his trauma and the suffering he'd endured and endeavoured to provide him with a calm, safe space that allowed him to let his guard down in a way he was comfortable with.
Over the last few months he'd gotten much better with touch and now it was at a point where he practically craved it. Whether he was holding your hand, laying his head in your lap while you watched TV or wrapping his arms around you from behind while you were cooking dinner, Bucky loved touch and would always find an excuse to be near you or touching you in some way. You were more than happy to indulge his needs and fussed over him at every opportunity, joking that he was like an overgrown puppy when it came to affection.
You could have cried with how sweet he’d been when he’d kissed you for the first time - he was so careful as he’d tenderly pressed his lips to yours, as though expecting to break you, and in that moment it had dawned on you that he probably wasn’t used to being so gentle towards another human being. 
It was so fulfilling witnessing this once broken man rebuilding and flourishing in his new life, and you felt truly honoured that he wanted you to be a part of it. 
At the sound of a knock at the door your excitement grew to an almost immeasurable amount, and you took a moment to gather yourself before answering. 
You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d gone to bed alone after spending an evening with Bucky, aching for him to be beside you, and although you understood and respected his reasons for not staying you couldn’t help the sting of loneliness that crawled in whenever he left at the end of an evening.
The sight of him standing in your doorway with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder was one you’d never dared to believe you’d witness, yet here he was, casually leaning against the doorframe as he waited for you to answer the door. 
“Hey Buck,” you grinned, stepping forward to greet him with a kiss which he eagerly welcomed. Wrapping his arms around you, he guided you backwards into your apartment, dropping his bag and kicking the door to a close behind him. You were breathless when he pulled away, staring up at him in awe.  
“Wow, that was…just, wow,” you marvelled, completely lost for words. 
“I could hear your heartbeat so I thought I’d ease some of your nerves,” he smirked, and your cheeks reddened at his confession. 
“Dammit Barnes, I told you not to use your super hearing on me. What if I was in the bathroom!?”
“You think I haven’t heard you pee before?” His laughter - one of your favourite sounds - echoed around the room as you shot him a horrified glare, and he quickly pulled you into his embrace to ease your embarrassment. 
“I’m reconsidering this sleepover already,” you grumbled into his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist, breathing in his leathery scent. He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. 
“Come on doll, why don't you show me where I’ll be sleeping.”
You immediately perked up at his words - which you suspected was his plan - and with a grin you grabbed his bag and led him to the bedroom to unpack.
���
The evening passed like any other - you cooked dinner, played some board games, and ended the night cuddled up on the couch with a movie - but instead of falling asleep in Bucky's arms like you usually did, you felt wide awake. 
Bucky switched off the TV as you began to tidy away your empty glasses and snacks, and an awkward silence hovered over the room as you both pondered how to navigate the rest of the evening. 
"So, sweetheart…what do you usually do at this point?" Bucky broke the silence as he came to lean against the counter beside you.    
"Well, usually, once you've left I go to bed," you replied, realising that the suggestion of going to bed may be misinterpreted and quickly adding, "but we don't have to do that yet if you're not tired." 
Bucky's hand came to rest on your arm and you looked up to find him smiling reassuringly. 
"It's okay, doll. I'm happy to go to bed," he murmured, trailing his hand down to entwine his fingers with yours and leading you to your room. 
You were already in your pyjamas so you slipped straight under the covers while Bucky walked round to the other side of the bed and began undressing down to his boxers. You couldn't resist a sneaky peek while his back was turned, and as soon as you gave in to your temptation you regretted it immediately - Bucky's chiselled body was truly a sight to behold and one you were sad to have to tear your eyes away from. 
"Would you like me to strike a pose?" Your boyfriend's playful voice broke your train of thought and you snapped your eyes to his, finding him smirking at you with his hands on his hips. 
You'd been caught red handed, and red faced! Your cheeks were blazing and you pulled the covers up to hide your face as Bucky crawled in next to you. The embarrassment quickly dissolved once he was laying next to you, your mind suddenly too preoccupied to care, and you turned to face him with a grin. 
"You're here," you said gleefully, melting into his open arms. 
"I'm here," he echoed, his smile mirroring yours.
With a tender kiss he pulled you closer, tucking you under his chin in a firm but gentle embrace, and soon you found the tendrils of slumber pulling you into the sleepy abyss. 
– 
A few hours later you were awoken by a cold breeze at your back, and you reached your hand out in the darkness, heart sinking when an empty bed greeted you. 
Had Bucky left? Had he changed his mind about spending the night? Had you imagined the whole thing? 
Your thoughts teetered on a downward spiral as you sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, but your insecurity quickly turned to confusion when you looked to your side and found that not only was Bucky missing from your bed, but his pillow was too. 
Eyebrows knitting together, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up to try and solve the mystery, but you didn't get very far before your foot bumped into something solid. 
Bucky. 
The super soldier sat bolt upright at your touch, wide eyes staring straight ahead, and for a moment you feared he'd forgotten where he was altogether. He soon came to his senses, however, shaking off any remnants of sleep and looking up at you with a sheepish expression. 
"I, uh…sometimes find it hard to sleep," he offered, fidgeting with the blanket he must have grabbed from the couch. "Sorry, I'm still kinda getting used to the idea of a comfortable bed." 
He chuckled dryly and your chest tightened at his doleful expression - here was this brave, strong man who had been through hell, and he was apologising!? 
That just would not do. 
"Oh, Buck," you cooed, sinking to your knees in front of him and holding his face in your hands. "You don't need to apologise for anything." 
His eyes met yours and you hoped he could see the love and sincerity in them. The guards he worked so hard to keep up slipped just a tiny bit, and he gave you a tearful smile as he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. Kissing the top of his head, you turned and reached up to grab your pillow off the bed, setting it on the floor beside his before reaching back again for the covers. 
"You don't have to do this, doll. You won't be comfortable," he protested once he realised you were intending to join him, but you simply waved a hand to quiet him.
"We're in this together now baby," you softly reassured, adjusting the blanket so it covered the both of you. "I'm right here with you every step of the way." 
You kissed him deeply and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he laid back on the hardwood floor. By no means was it comfortable and you knew in the morning your back would be aching, but none of that mattered while you were at Bucky's side. 
He'd been fighting his demons for so long, and he'd likely be fighting them for a long time to come, but there was no way you were going to let him continue fighting them alone. 
Tucked tightly into Bucky's side, your head on his chest and the sound of his heart beating in your ears, you fell back to sleep with surprising ease, and neither you, nor Bucky, woke again until morning. 
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buckybabieboy · 8 months
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Heyy! I was reading you work, which I love btw, and I wanted to request a one-shot or blurb for little!bucky accidentally getting drunk, like how would he act, what would he say. I feel like he’d be super clingy and needy. With cg!mommy!reader please 🥹 Love you writing <333
Lol this is gonna be the cutest thing ever😭. Thanks for the request Babie!
Tipsy Baby.
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☁️ Summary: Bucky has way too much to drink at Natasha’s party, leaving you to take care of your little boy.
⚠️TW(READ.): sub!touch-starved bucky, dom!fem!reader, Bucky is so touch starved😭, reader is able to carry bucky, lactation kink cuz I felt like it, mentions of alcohol, Bucky can get drunk if he drinks an abundance.
📝A/N(PLEASE READ): DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE. ITS THAT SIMPLE. DON’T REPORT MY WORK JUST BC YOU DONT LIKE IT. Anyways, pls enjoy this lil blurb! drunk Bucky is just the cutest 🥰. and your right, bucky is VERY clingy AND FUCKING TOUCH STARVEDDDD when he’s drunk.
“Mommyyyy!” Bucky slurs out as he dramatically falls in front of you on the compound’s floor.
“Mommy pay ‘tenttion to me!”
You peer over your phone and watch as your baby heaves and pants on the ground, his beautiful pale skin flushed with pinkish-reddish tones, and his big puppy dog eyes red and puffed.
“Baby, are you drunk?” You question him, though you already know the answer. He only whines and thrashes his limbs around in a hissy fit, not using his words.
“W-why are you so faaarrr?” He wails petulantly, completely ignoring your question.
“M’ not far, sweetheart, ‘m right in front of you.”
An empty bottle of Tiger Beer has accompanied him on the ground, clutched inside his sweaty palms.
“Gimme that!” You sigh before getting off of your comfy spot on the couch and snatching the bottle out of his hands. He whines even more.
“Who let you have this?”
Bucky pouts and mutters something, but it’s almost impossible to hear with the music and noise that flood throughout the compound.
“Can’t hear you bud, you’re gonna have to speak up f’me, okay?”
“T-tasha…” He hiccups. “N-Natasha lemme have some, mommy…”
Another exasperated sigh escapes from you as you begin to regret supporting Bucky’s idea to come to Natasha’s party. It didn’t really surprise you though, since he was always a party guy when he was younger. You rarely ever drank, especially when you were going to an event. You opted out of that a long time when the both of you got drunk, which you both know didn’t end well.
Natasha had invited everyone to her floor for a party. You weren’t too fond of the idea when you heard there was going to be alcohol, but Bucky was very excited and begged you to go. He assured you that Steve and Sam would be there to watch him.
So eventually you gave in, but not before making him promise that he wouldn’t drink.
When you arrived at the party, Bucky was acting more than normal. He immediately started chatting and playing party games with Wanda and Vision. He even played Twister with them, which you knew was a surprise to everyone. Despite the fact that loud noises triggered him, he seemed to be having a good time. Needless to say, you felt comfortable with letting him go off on his own for awhile.
Scanning the room, you spot Natasha by the fridge, a Tiger Beer in hand. The trash can next to her was filled with empty bottles of that stuff, and you knew they had to be Bucky’s. He couldn’t get drunk easily so it would take a copious amount of alcohol to get him drunk.
The blame wasn’t all on Natasha, though. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all were made aware of Bucky and his little space—you’ve told them a numerous amount of times for his safety. So Natasha could’ve given him a bottle, but Bucky must’ve gotten his hands on this much alcohol all by himself.
You’d have to talk to them about that another day though, because right now, your little boy was cemented on the cold floor, spacey and dazed below you.
“S-so pretty. Mommy so pretty!” Bucky giggles, his head cocked to the side in awe as he gazes up at you. He wasn’t thinking about anything else. He literally couldn’t. His little brain couldn’t process anything while in little space, so him being drunk definitely amplified it X10.
“C’mon, baby boy. Let’s get you taken care of.”
You offer your hand to him. He doesn’t budge though, instead he whines, and mutters more incoherent sentences. This wasn’t the first time Bucky lost all of his words. When he was little, most of the time he would gesticulate instead of speaking up.
“Hmm…” You tap your index finger on your chin, prenteding to brainstorm. “Oh! I know what you want! You want uppies!”
Bucky nods and squeals, making grabby hands up at you. You place your hands under his arms, pick him up, and set him on your hip. A precious little noise escapes from him as he wraps his legs around your waist, his arms around your neck, and leans into your touch. The smell of your hair seemed to be the only thing he was able to process.
Once you make it to your floor, you set him down on the bed. He whines once again when you leave and you quickly shush him, reassuring him that you’re just getting his pj’s out for bed. Bucky stands up to take off his pants but stumbles and trips, landing face down on the floor.
“Hnnngh..” He whines, starting to pick up his thrashing and wailing from earlier.
“Hush, my little boy, let Mommy take care of you.”
“M’ dizzy…” He fusses. “Everything’s spinning…”
“I know baby, I know. Let’s get you in your PJ’s, okay?” You hush him a little bit before helping him off the ground and settting him back on the bed. It was a struggle, but you got his pants and shirt off. Now the task was to replace them with his nighttime ones. You take one leg of the pants, grab his leg, and slide it in.
“Good job, Jamie! Now your right leg!” You praise your little boy. He giggles when his pants are all the way on, and doesn’t even fuss when you put his shirt on for him.
“Perfect… now let Mommy get changed and then we can go sleepies, okay?”
He fussed, but you got changed in no time, and his fussing quickly became coos of happiness once you cradled him in your arms.
“My little baby.” You fawn. “Your mommy’s boy aren’t you?”
Bucky’s eyes flutter, as he tries to stay awake. His baby blues are glossy and clouded from the substance earlier.
“Mmm… uh-huh! M’mommy’s boy! Mommy’s goodest boy!”
“Yeah, except for earlier. What did I tell you about drinking that much alcohol? You know your little mind can’t take it.” You scold, and he pouts up at you.
“Sammy was watchin’ me! But then he drank some too, ‘n we-” His hiccups interrupts him.
“W-we made a stupid bet. Who could drink the mostest, ‘n I won.” He giggles at that last part, obviously proud of himself for beating Sam at literally anything.
You were about to respond when you noticed his eyes flutter. His metal fingers tug on your tank top—you already know what that means by now.
“Awh my baby’s hungry! You hungry, sweetheart?” You coo at him in the softest tone possible. He does nothing but nod, his words are becoming little to none—indicating that he was deep in.
“Go ahead, Jamie. You can have some, mommy doesn’t mind.”
You help him out a bit by tugging down the top yourself, your leaking tits out for Bucky to suckle on. He wastes no time, immediately latching his pink lips on your right nipple. His suckles were harsh and rapid. All he wanted right now was to taste your sweet nectar. A few strokes to the scalp and he’s almost out—his stamina completely gone from earlier.
You praise your little baby. Whispering to him all of the things he loved to hear. Calling him all of the names he loved to be called while in his little space.
The meekest whines and whimpers come from him as he suckled more frantically. As time went on he became frustrated—frustrated at the fact that he was too exhausted to keep going.
“Shh, it’s okay. I know… your so exhausted, hm? So exhausted from having so much fun earlier?”
You stroke his scalp with your fingers, keeping the movements slight and slow for him. Bucky could never describe it, but there was always a certain tactic, or pattern in which you’d scratch his scalp that made him feel so innocent. So vulnerable.
You know this, You know what touching Bucky’s hair does to him, what it does to him when he’s completely reliant and under your control.
“I’ve got you, Bucky Bear. Hush now.”
Bucky eventually quiets down, and so do his suckles on your nipple. He lets your nipple fall free from his mouth, some milk dripping down his parted lips. You wipe it off gently.
“Mommy m-mines?” He whimpers. “All mines?” He nuzzles himself into your chest, the warmth of your body and vibration of your voice as you cooed to him always calms him down.
“All yours, honey.”
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wintersxldiers · 2 months
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Got bored so why not post another fic?
word count: 682 (quick, short one)
summary: Bucky and you get into a fight and he tried to make it better
Warnings: none just fluff (lmk if i missed any <33)
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Your flat had always been unnecessary cold, but today it was something else. A shiver went through your body. You went to the bedroom to change into something warmer. Well technically you shouldn't say your room, because you shared it with your boyfriend and his clothes for that matter. 
Suddenly one of Bucky’s sweatshirts caught your eye. You grabbed it and put it on, already feeling yourself getting warmed up. "Perfect." you whispered to yourself. It would certainly do the job. You threw it on then crashed on the sofa to watch your favourite show with a bowl of snacks. 
Suddenly the door slammed shut, "Doll, I'm home." Bucky caught eyes with you as soon as he had closed the door. "Baby" he called out, happy to see you after a long day at work, his feelings were easily reciprocated. He put his coat and bag away before jumping onto the sofa with you to give you a hug. His arms were wrapped around you as were yours and his head lay on your stomach.
"I missed you baby." Bucky mumbled, against your stomach. "I know baby, me too." you replied, stroking his hair softly as he clung to you. He suddenly sits up and pulls you by the waist closer to him. You sit there with your fingers intertwined and your head resting on his chest and Bucky mumbles "You’re wearing my sweatshirt.” before kissing your forehead. 
“It’s warm and smells like you.” You say, leaning against his hard chest. "I got somethin' for you" he said, excited as he jumped up to retrieve it from his bag. He pulled out a jumbo pack of your favourite sweets. "Aww Bucky, thank you." you said before pulling him into a bear hug.
"I'm sorry about yesterday, Bubs," he said softly. You sat back and remembered yesterday's events. 
"Please Bucky I just want your attention for 2 minutes" you begged him. This past week he had been so overwhelmed and engrossed in work that he hadn't had time to cuddle you anymore. You hadn't gotten kisses and cuddles and you were sick of it. "I know doll but as soon as I'm done I can give you everything yeah?" Bucky said hopeful that you would understand. 
"I jus' want you, Bucky please." you said, staring straight into his eyes.
"Doll I know you want me because of your hormones because you're on your period but stop being clingy and let me work!" He shouted and you stood there in shock before running out of the room, slamming the door behind you. 
All day he had tried to get you to talk to him or touch you but you weren't having it. Everytime he tried you would shove his hand off or plainly ignore him. You were mad and would stay mad. 
The night was the worst, you couldn't sleep. Not without his strong arms wrapped around you, you had both become so accustomed to being in each other's embrace that you forgot how bad it was without it. You must have slept about 2 hours that whole night. 
Before Bucky left for work the following day, you had given him a quick peck on the cheek then ran away. 
Which had led you both to the present moment. "It's ok Buck, to be completely honest I should be the one to say sorry." you said looking down at the floor.
 "No bubs, you did nothing wrong, I shouldn't have had a go at you like that, stupid of me" he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I love you Buck" You whispered.
“I love you too Doll” Bucky replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Wanna watch a movie with me?” He offered, already knowing your answer.
 “Uh yes please, but it has to be a sappy romance and you can’t fall asleep” You warned, pointing a finger at him.
He chuckles at you and your behaviour “I won't, promise” He reassured you. You cuddled up closer to him so you were laying on his chest, in his arms and wearing his sweatshirt. 
@lafleshlumpeater
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preciousbarnes · 9 months
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Here When I Wake
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Tags: Winter Soldier-ish!Bucky, Memory Loss, mentions of violence, comfort, fluff, Sam being a good friend
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There’s a gentle breeze flowing into your small Brooklyn apartment from the open windows. The sun is setting in the west, illuminating the sky in shades of pinks and purples. The fading sunlight matches the dim vibe within the apartment, only illuminated by a couple lamps and some candles placed strategically on shelves, where Alpine couldn’t knock them down.
The light sound of an old jazz record from Bucky’s collection plays softly as you sway in the living room to the melodic tunes. It’s a peaceful evening; just you and Alpine together in the kitchen, as she always loved keeping you company when you were cooking.
You lose yourself in the repetition of cooking your favorite dish, before being interrupted by the sound of your cellphone ringing and vibrating on the kitchen counter. You pick up your phone and are surprised to see who is calling, Bucky’s partner, Sam.
“Sam?” You ask, confusion clear in your voice upon greeting him.
“Hey, listen, where are you?” Sam inquires urgently over the phone, out of breath and sounding uncharacteristically nervous.
“Um, home? In Buck and I’s apartment? Why?” You question, becoming more confused as you also feel concern creeping up on you. Why was Sam calling? He never called you.
“Something happened on the mission. Bucky experienced a head injury, and was triggered somehow. He’s not himself right now. We lost track of him outside of Manhattan. Stay where you are. I’m on my way to you now. We’re hoping maybe you can help us.” He explains quickly. You hear the sound of a car roaring to life before the line quickly drops off.
Your phone falls from you hand, hitting the floor. He wasn’t himself, which could only mean one thing. He wasn’t him. The winter soldier was back, and there’s no telling what he’s after, or what danger he’s getting himself into. You make quick work of finishing the dinner dish you had planned to share with Bucky, moving it to a storage container to save since having lost your appetite. There was no way you could eat right now when your stomach is a ball of nerves.
You’re washing up the dishes as a welcomed distraction when you suddenly get the feeling of eyes on you. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, and your hands slightly tremble. Bucky always warned you about closing those damn windows that led to the fire escape.
You gently place the pan you were scrubbing back into the water, opting to grab the large kitchen knife out of the water before taking a deep breath and abruptly turning around.
You gasp, surprised at who is here. It’s Bucky, sitting in the shadows of your apartment, having blown out the candles and now his figure was barely lit by the one lamp on the stand next to your loveseat he was sat on. His eyes appraise you, glancing at the knife held tightly in your hand.
“You’re my mission” he says, his voice with a slight Russian accent you are not used to.
“Bucky? What’s going on?” You ask him, hesitantly after hearing him utter the word ‘mission’.
Bucky cocks his head to the side, his eyes taking in how you’ve relaxed since seeing him.
“Who is Bucky?” His voice huskily asks.
You swallow dryly, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. You set the knife back down into the dish water, grabbing a dish towel to dry your damp hands. His eyes never leave you, watching your every move. You don’t feel in danger of the man, knowing that if he wanted you dead in this state he could have killed you without you seeing it coming.
You turn back and slowly approach Bucky, before asking to sit next to him. He looks confused at your request.
“I’m an asset, why are you asking me?” He asks you, voice soft but showing his confusion.
“Here you always have choices. You can say no. Your comfort matters.” You explain to him, swallowing down emotions as you think of the times Bucky was tortured and treated horribly, given no choices or options.
He looks skeptical, but nods regardless, motioning for you to sit down with him. You sit down next to him gently, leaving a comfortable space between you both. As you take in his tense form, you notice blood on his dark pants, saturating one leg fully. You let out a gasp, reaching for him.
“What happened to your leg?” You ask quickly, moving to assess an injury before Bucky moves to the side out of your reach.
“Not my blood,” he explains, voice taking on a dark tone.
You look at his stony expression and dark eyes, nervous to ask but knowing you need to.
“Whose blood, then?” You ask softly, nerves tilting your voice.
“The targets. They were coming here for you. Had to stop them. They have been eliminated.” He explains, voice steely and darkened.
“You said I’m your mission. What do you mean?” You ask softly.
“Must protect you at all costs,” he explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why?” you probe, trying to understand.
“I don’t know. All I remember is fighting, getting a bad hit to the head, and then these men mentioned this address and your name. I knew I had to get here. I had to keep you safe.” Bucky tells you, openly.
You give Bucky a small smile, getting ready to thank him, before Bucky is jumping to his feet and grabbing your hands to pull you into a standing position. He begins to shove you down the hall quickly and into your shared bedroom.
“Huh? Bucky? What’s going on?” Questions fall from your lips as you don’t understand his sudden and urgent movements.
“Someone’s coming, you must hide,” he explains in a hushed voice, as he motions for you to get into your closet so he can shut you in to hide you.
You hear the front door open, and Sam’s voice echoing through the apartment, calling your name. Bucky grabs a knife from his holder and begins stalking his way towards his next target before you quickly grab his arm, trying to pull him back.
“Sam, it’s okay!” You call out, earning a betrayed look from bucky.
“Bucky, Sam is a good guy. On your side. He’s not a threat. He’s a friendly,” you explain softly, hoping he will trust you.
“Sometimes bad people appear good, маленький кролик” he tells you, unsure of Sam and still trying to gently push you back into the closet.
You reach out and grab Bucky’s hand, and reach up with your other hand to gently rest your hand on his jaw. He’s clearly taken by surprise, his eyes wide as they look to your face and then down to the hand gently holding his metal one. It confuses him. No one has ever in his memory regarded him with such softness, and had never volunteered to touch the weapon that is his metal arm.
“I would never lie to you, I promise Sam means no harm. I trust him with my life, and I trust him with yours almost every month when you guys are out on missions together,” your voice is gentle and honest as you hope Bucky will listen and trust you.
As he continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, the door to the bedroom slowly opens, revealing a surprised looking Sam.
Sam slowly steps into the room, holding his hands up to show Bucky he isn’t armed. Bucky quickly turns from you, hiding you effectively behind his back and broad shoulders, shielding you from any potential danger his mind thinks Sam may pose.
“Hey, man. What’s going on?” Sam asks, voice low but calm despite his worried expression as his eyes flicker to yours peeking around Bucky’s expansive frame.
“You were fighting by my side,” Bucky recalls out loud.
“Yes, yes I was. We’re on the same team.” Sam explains, lowering his outstretched hands to rest at his side.
“I’m missing time. I know I am. There are pictures here. Me and her, but I don’t remember. I knew I needed to keep her safe, but I don’t know why. Is it an order?” Bucky asks, sounding confused as his hand not holding the knife reaches up to rub his forehead.
“Is your head hurting?” You softly ask him, reaching up to rub his shoulder gently. Bucky welcomes the touch, surprising himself. He nods in answer to your question, despite himself.
“No, man. You don’t take orders anymore, you make them. We aren’t with hydra. We got you away. You were pardoned for the crimes those people forced you to commit. You help people now. You keep people safe..” Sam explains to Bucky.
“Okay, if all that’s true, it still doesn’t explain her?” Bucky says, moving away from his position of shielding you, instead turning so the three of you can look to each other.
“We’re together, Buck. We have been for a couple years now. We live here in this apartment, together, freely. You’re safe here. You’re safe with us. You’re safe with me,” you tell him, eyes wide as you look to him, longing to pull him into your arms and take away his confusion.
“Why am I missing time? All I remember is hydra. Working for them. The machines they used on me. I don’t remember any of this that you tell me. I remember my head hurting, and fighting next to you, and then knowing I had to get here and protect her.” Bucky questions, eyebrows furrowed and body still tense.
“This has happened in the past before, before you met her. We thought it was a one time thing. We’re now guessing if you take a hit to the head just right, right spot and right force, and this happens. It’ll work itself out after a good nights sleep while you heal. We already have some great scientists who want to help you working on a way to prevent this from happening again, so you don’t keep going through this,” Sam says to you both.
Bucky takes in what Sam said, nodding to himself and looking to you.
“Okay. I don’t know why, but I trust you both. I just need to sleep this off basically?” Bucky questions.
You and Sam both nod.
“Yeah, man. Just sleep it off. I’m going to stay here on the couch in the living room, just in case you need something.” Sam states, looking to you for your approval. You nod your head, reaching to your bed to grab an extra pillow and a blanket for him. Handing these to him, Sam nods in thanks and excuses himself to the living room.
“Well, let’s get you cleaned up” you find yourself saying. Moving to the closet and grabbing out Bucky’s most comfy pair of sweats and a soft t-shirt for him. You grab him a pair of boxers from the dresser quickly and turn back to lead him to the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He silently follows you. During this interaction you notice how purposefully loud in movement Bucky must normally be around you, as the dissociated soldier with you moves with a natural silence to a point it’s almost eerie. But, you think to yourself, that is a necessary part of the job he was tasked with for decades.
You wait in the bedroom after showing Bucky the bathroom and where the towels were. You find yourself lost in thought, once again hating what Bucky has gone through, and how a hit to the head sent him right back, at least partly. Bucky here wasn’t fully the winter soldier, but he wasn’t your Bucky either. Instead he was an odd mixture of the two.
After some minute pass, the bathroom door opens to reveal Bucky, looking cozy as ever in the large sweatpants and stretched out t-shirt you had given him. Even in such basic clothing, he still takes your breath away.
“Where do I sleep?” His husky voice softly questions.
“Here in the bed, I’ll sleep in the guest room sweetheart,” the endearment slips past your lips before you can stop it, making you look away and feel blood rising to your neck and cheeks in embarrassment.
“Please, don’t be embarrassed, маленький кролик. It’s nice, someone being kind to me. And you can sleep, with me, if you’d like. I understand that’s what we normally do, I don’t want you uncomfortable,” Bucky says, voice soft and beginning to become sleepy.
“Okay, if you’re sure that’s alright?” You ask, as you take off your oversized sweater to just leave yourself in your sleep shorts and one of Bucky’s baggy t-shirts.
“It’s fine doll,” a soft smile takes over his features as he walks closer to the bed.
You flip the covers over, climbing in and patting the empty side next to you, motioning for him to join you.
He walks over and sits on the bed next to you, pulling the covers over you both as you reach over and turn the bedside lamp off, leaving you both to get settled in the darkness. A few moments pass in silence as you both get comfortable under the covers
“Can I ask something?” He asks.
“Yeah, Buck?” You ask, turning to him. His features are lit by the moonlight pouring in through the windows.
“Will you be here? When I wake up? Normally when I go to sleep, I lose everything,” he asks you, your heart breaking at the uncertainty on his face.
You reach over and gently stroke his jaw, moving closer to rest your head on his shoulder.
“Of course. I’ll always be here, Buck.” You convey to him with absolute certainty in your voice, calming his fears.
As you find yourself drifting off to sleep, you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.
“Thank you, маленький кролик”
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Translations: маленький кролик - little bunny
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529 notes · View notes
make-me-imagine · 10 months
Text
Flowers and Courage
Plot: After Bucky fears he might lose his chance with you, he finally finds the courage to tell you how he feels.
Prompts: 'Secret admirer' + "I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you."
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gn!Reader
Requested By: Anonymous (a left over request from Valentines Day)
A/n: Sorry its so short and kind of sucks lol I had some trouble getting it down.
Words: 1.1k
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-
Bucky was deep in thought as he sat at the bar, his hands slowly turning the glass in his hands as he thought about what to do. He wasn't sure how long he had been here already, but it felt like time had slowed down since he sat down to think.
He felt like he was in grade school all over again. Uncertain of how to tell his crush how he feels, so instead he just leaves them secret notes and candy.
But he wasn't a child anymore, and you weren't just a crush. He had never felt anything so deep and real for anyone before. And he had never found something so hard as he did confessing to you.
It was supposed to be easy, show up at your doorstep with flowers. Allow them to lead into a natural confession. But the second you opened your door, and your eyes cast over the flowers, causing a look of surprise over your face, he panicked.
"These were in front of your door." He said suddenly, feeling all courage he thought he had dissipate.
"Oh really?" You asked with growing curiosity as you took them. "I wonder if they were left at the wrong door."
Bucky felt disappointment and anger at himself wash over him as he held back on saying they were definitely for you.
That had happened months ago. And ever since then, it had become habit for him to hide how he felt. The coffees and flowers left to you randomly at work were thought of as kind gestures of a stranger.
When in reality it was Bucky. Showing his feelings for you the only way it seemed he could. Secretly.
He admired you from afar, adored you really. But was your friend up close, showing no real evidence of how he felt, or so he thought, and hoped.
Bucky thought it was fine, it could become the normal, it had become the normal. Until yesterday, when he overhead another agent talking to you, flirting shamelessly.
And then the man had the audacity to take credit for the flowers and the coffees, everything Bucky had done for you. This ass-hat had swooped in taken all the credit, trying to sweep you off your feet.
It infuriated Bucky, but he held back, not wanting to make a scene, or throw the man through a window.
So here he was, trying to find what courage he could through the anger to tell you once and for all how he felt about you.
Downing the last of his drink, Bucky slapped some money down and left, determination anchored in his heart as he made his way towards your apartment.
--- --- ---
As you pulled open your door, your heart leapt in you chest as you saw Bucky standing at your doorstep. You always felt that same wave of nervousness and butterflies when you saw him, even though you had known him, and been friends for years.
Your eyes cast down to his hands and you felt your chest clench. Flowers. Were they for you? Were they from him? Were they left at your doorstep again? Were they from the agent from work?
Out of all of those options, you hoped they would be from Bucky. Just like you had hoped they were the first time.
"Bucky, hi!" You greeted with a bright smile. "Come in!"
He smiled, but you could tell something was off, he seemed nervous, and that only added to your own anxieties.
As he stepped into your apartment he cleared his throat, handing you the flowers that had been in his hands, you noticed his knuckles were white as he gripped them before letting go.
"These are for you."
"Oh-" You hesitated for a moment "Were they left at the door step again?"
The first time this happened, when Bucky told you the flowers were left at your doorstep you were disappointed. But something told you they had really been from him. Maybe it was just you being hopeful.
Bucky shook his head and spoke, his voice softer than you had been expecting. "No, they're from me."
He saw your eyes widen as your face brightened up and he felt a wave of relief and triumph wash over him.
"Thank you, but- what are they for?" You asked cautiously, yet curious.
A thousand thoughts seemed to cross Bucky's mind in the span of a second as he froze, before he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.
"They- uh, there-" he sighed before laughing dryly "I used to be better at this."
You smiled "Better at what Buck?"
He met your eyes and saw nothing but your familiar kindness, and a hint of encouragement, even eagerness.
"Confessing."
You felt as thought your heart stopped as your breath hitched in your throat.
Bucky continued before you could respond. "Those flowers from a few months ago, they weren't left on your doorstep, I got those for you too, I just...panicked"
You repressed a giggle "You...panicked?"
"I know." He laughed softly. "I don't know I just- I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same, and that it would ruin what friendship we had. So I kept it to myself. I left you coffees and flowers at your desk after that" he saw your face turn to realization "And yesterday I heard that douc- that guy tell you he did it, and it pissed me off. But I realized it was my fault, for not having told you earlier. So I decided to tell you. Because- because I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you. I care about you much more than I have anyone in my life. And I don't want to lose you or any chance I might have of being with you. "
He watched you closely as you looked down at the flowers, watching as a smile slowly spread across your face. "I knew he didn't leave them for me. He made it so obvious he was lying." You looked up and met Bucky's eyes "And honestly, I had a feeling it might have been you, but I was too afraid to get my hopes up. Because I feel the same about you Bucky, everything you said, I feel it too."
You saw a wave of relief and happiness cross his face as you spoke. Suddenly he stepped closer, reaching up and gently touching your cheek as he smiled. "I wasted quite a bit of time, didn't I?"
You shrugged as your grin widened "Nothing you can't make up for."
xx
Sorry it ended so abruptly, I literally could not get anything else out of my brain lol
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @alexxavicry, @witchygagirl
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runawrites-blog · 5 months
Text
Trust (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Summary: You notice it during a quiet evening spent with Bucky and then it won't leave your head again. Bucky is afraid of touching you with his vibranium arm, going out of his way to avoid doing so. You take it upon yourself to try and show him that he doesn't have to worry that you're not afraid, and that you trust him completely. (Gender Neutral Reader) Word Count: 6,092 Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Mild Discussions of Past Traumatic Events, Mild Violence and Mentions of Fighting, No Y/N, Petnames (Doll, Love), Non-Graphic Smut Scene (To avoid it skip from "It was three days later" and continue at "You moved your hands", so skip the first paragraph there. Please do not read it and instead skip it if you are not 18+/ Skip it if you are a Minor) Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51380476
---
The first time you noticed it, was during a stormy night which you had spent curled up in your bed with Bucky, reading a book while he was lying by your side, his head on your chest and his right arm looped around your waist. Eventually, you decided to turn down for the night, and seeing as Bucky had not moved for the past hour or so, you were careful as you put your book down and turned off the light, assuming that he had fallen asleep. But as you gingerly shimmied down on the bed he looked up at you and you gave him an apologetic look, thinking you’d woken him up.
“Sorry, Bucky, I just wanted to lie down so we can turn in for the night.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his head as you settled on your pillow. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“You didn’t, Sweetheart. I was about to drift off.”
“You could have if you were tired, Love. I wouldn’t have minded.” You soothed, lips moving down to his cheek. “Why didn’t you?”
“Better safe than sorry.” He sat up and you watched as he reached up to detach his vibranium arm before putting it down close to the bed and lying back down next to you. “Now we can finally settle down.”
His words made you still in your movements, a terrible suspicion dawning on you that painted a lot of his previous actions in a completely different light. Bucky usually preferred to hold your hand with his right one and always had you sit by that side. During intimate moments he never touched you with his left hand and solely used it for keeping his balance. Every time you shared a bed he detached his arm before settling down. You had always assumed that it was simply more comfortable to sleep without the metal arm weighing him down and had it not been for his words you would have continued to think so but now you knew that this was not the only reason.
Bucky was afraid of hurting you with his vibranium arm.
For a few seconds, you mulled over that suspicion, thinking about how to breech the subject, how to assure him that you trusted him not to hurt you, to talk about his fears. But you were at a loss and when Bucky turned halfway back onto his stomach, head settling on your shoulder and face buried at your neck as his right arm looped around your waist you decided to not speak up about it for now. Bucky was exhausted from a long day and you wanted to offer him the comfort and safety he needed. So you just wrapped your arms around him and buried your nose in his hair.
“Sleep well.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” Bucky mumbled back, voice soft as he held onto you tightly. “Sleep well, Sweetheart.”
“With you by my side, I always do.”
Against your skin, you could feel his mouth turn into a smile and despite your worries, you felt grateful that he was at the very least smiling and that he seemed comfortable. But his words still circled your head. Bucky was afraid of hurting you with his metal arm and he was actively going out of his way to keep it away from you. You wanted nothing more than to prove to him that his worries were unfounded but you didn’t know how to go about it -- and even if you did, you knew he wouldn’t believe you.
When the next morning rolled around, waking you with the rays of sun that gently fell in through the curtains and had long since chased the rain away, it only took your thoughts a few seconds to circle back to the previous night. A frown overtook your features as you once more thought about what to do but before you could come up with an idea a hand reached up to gently carass your cheek.
“What’s got you frowning first thing in the morning, Doll?”
You looked down at Bucky and gave him a soft smile. “Nothing important, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t too heavy, was I? I keep telling you that if me sleeping halfway on top of you is too heavy you have to tell me so I can move.”
“No, that’s really not it, I swear.” You said, chuckling softly as you shook your head. “If anything I like having your weight on me. You’re like my personal weighted blanket.”
Bucky leaned up to kiss your cheek before he slowly sat up and you admired how his body stretched in the warm sunlight, outlining his features. For a moment you allowed yourself to smile at his domestic moment with your partner. But when he reached for his arm to reattach it to where it hooked into his shoulder all the concern from the previous night came back and once more you thought about what to do to ease his worries. You still knew that he would not believe you if you simply told him these things but perhaps it was worth a try to show him that you did not share his worries even in the slightest. So, you decided to make it your mission to prove this to Bucky.
---
You tried to show him that you were not scared of his arm just about half an hour later after you had gotten out of the shower and found him making breakfast in the kitchen. Since the two of you had a date at a current exhibition at the local museum planned for the day Bucky was preparing a quick breakfast, cutting some fruit up, and setting the table with all the things he knew you liked. He was currently cutting up an apple into slices when you entered, his back turned to the door, and you quietly made your way toward him before draping yourself across his back though you still made sure to make enough noise so that he would hear you approach and wouldn’t be startled.
“Thank you for preparing something to eat.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved around and embraced his left arm, leaning your head against the metallic shoulder of it. “What do you say? Should we bring lunch with us or should we try to find a place to eat while we’re out?”
Bucky froze a little as you leaned into his vibranium arm and quickly turned around, leaning against the counter, subtly but effectively turning the arm away from you with his right side now facing you. “I say we go find something while we’re out.”
“Are you looking forward to the exhibition?” You asked with a smile, trying to ignore his actions so as to not make him uncomfortable. “I know you’ve been very interested in space travel lately.”
“Can you blame me?” Bucky joked, returning your smile. “I recently learned about how much further we have come in terms of space travel in the last decades. It’s really amazing, I have to say.”
“I’m not blaming you at all. I’m really interested in it, too, and I think your interest in science is really charming.” With another small kiss on his cheek, you moved away to sit down at the table. “Your excitement about it is quite frankly adorable.”
“Adorable?” Bucky chuckled as he sat down opposite you. “I am far from adorable.”
“I’d beg to differ. When you smile in amazement at a piece in the museum or your eyes light up when you get to listen to someone’s stories of space travel you’re so sweet that I can barely handle it.”
“What can I say? I’ve always been interested in science, even back in the fourties.” Bucky smiled softly as he began to eat. “Steve and I would go to science fairs, exhibitions, and museums all the time.”
“Tell me more about that, please.”
---
You hoped the museum would give you more opportunities to show Bucky that you were not afraid of his vibranium arm, planning on trying to hold his left hand or onto his arm. Unfortunately, you found that you never got the right opportunity to hold onto his arm because you never stood in one spot long enough to cuddle up to him and you never had the chance to hold his left hand because he kept the guide to the exhibition clutched in that one. You resigned to try again later and simply enjoyed your date with your boyfriend, smiling at his excitement and interest, reading all the informational signs, and looking out for the things you had encountered on the few space missions you had been on.
“Can you believe we’ve been in one of these before in actual space?” Bucky asked as you made your way through the recreated interior of a space ship and you knew that he was referring to your latest mission where the two of you had set out on a spaceship to an old abandoned space station where you had been getting important documents from. “It’s amazing when you think of it.”
“What a coincidence. I had the exact same thought just a few seconds ago.” You grinned as you turned to him. “It always seems unbelievable to me.”
“I honestly find it hard to believe, too, but I have encountered many unbelievable things in the past few years.” Bucky mused with a small smile, looking back at you. “Want to continue on? The next room is a display of our galaxy.”
“Let’s go.”
The two of you entered the next room, a big hall that had holograms of all the planets in the known galaxy projected above the visitors who were able to circle the model of the sun placed in the middle of the exhibit on a metal walkway. You and Bucky walked on the metal walkway, looking at the display, stopping next to the hologram of Earth and looking up as the voiceover talked about the newly discovered planets in the galaxy. Gingerly you reached out to grab Bucky’s left hand, squeezing it with yours as you leaned into his side a little.
As soon as your fingers closed around his, Bucky pulled his hand back and rounded your body. You watched his movements with a small frown but you couldn’t help but smile softly as he held out his right hand to you, flexing his finger in invitation and you took his hand, holding it tightly as you once more leaned into his side, wanting nothing more than to be close to him. But Bucky seemed to have caught your frown because he sighed softly, keeping his eyes firmly on the exhibit as he spoke.
“Sorry, Sweetheart.” He whispered. “I’d rather you hold my flesh hand.”
“There’s nothing to apologise for.” You said softly, deciding against speaking up on his worries so as to not ruin the date for him. “I simply want you to be comfortable.”
Bucky was quiet for a few seconds before he changed the topic. “Do you like the exhibition? I think it’s really interesting to learn about all the ways space travel has changed and hear about the new planets we’ve made contact with.”
“It really is.” You agreed, going with his change in topic and offering him a playful smile. “And I enjoy seeing you so invested and excited about something. You can be such a nerd and I love it.”
“And you’re any better?” He teased right back, giving you a sly smirk. “You’ve read every informational sign there was to read.”
“I’ve never said I wasn’t just as big of a nerd.” You chuckled, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “That’s why we get along so well.”
Bucky smiled and pulled you into a gentle kiss, his right hand settling on the small of your back as he leaned into you. All you could do was reciprocate, your eyes fluttering shut just as his did. He pulled back all too soon but he kept his forehead leaning against yours as he sighed softly. “I love you so much.”
“I love you just as much.”
---
It was three days later that you noticed how big Bucky’s concerns were once more. He still took his arm off when you slept in bed with him and avoided having you hold his left hand every time but you really saw his fears when the two of you shared an intimate moment. You were in Bucky’s lap, his right hand on your hip, guiding your movements. His face was buried at your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh there as you held onto him. His hand tightened on your hip and the metal one clenched the headboard behind him.
You moved your hands from his shoulders, intending on trailing them down his body but as you took them off him you lost your balance and tipped backward. Bucky reacted quickly and brought his left hand around you to catch your fall, holding you up by your upper back, stopping his previous movements, and looking at you in worry. Tipping backwards so suddenly startled you and you gasped in surprise. And just as you did Bucky froze, eyes going wide in what you could only describe as horrified guilt as he pulled away his left hand, switching it with his right to pull you back into a sitting position.
When he was sure you wouldn’t lose your balance again he pulled back all together, gently coaxing you off him and physically withdrawing from you, face scrunching up in concern. You got to your knees, getting closer to him again, feeling worry rise in you at his actions. While you knew he held back from touching you with his metal arm this extreme of a reaction to accidentally touching you with it was concerning. But before you could speak he did.
“I am so sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“I am so sorry that I hurt you.” Bucky explained quickly, getting to his knees and placing his right hand on your shoulder to turn your upper body around so he could see your back. “All I could think of was not letting you fall. I didn’t think this through and I-- I caught you with the vibranium arm and-- and now I’ve hurt you.”
You were quick to get onto your knees and bring your hands to his shoulders, making him look at you. “Bucky, I’m fine, I swear. You didn’t hurt me at all, I promise.”
“But you gasped. It sounded like I hurt you when I caught you.”
“Bucky, you didn’t hurt me.” You assured him, looking at him in earnest. “I gasped because I was surprised at falling. If anything, you caught me and probably stopped me from actually getting hurt. You did not hurt me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” You assured him and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his temple. “You could never hurt me.”
Bucky opened his mouth but then closed it again, deciding to remain quiet and instead simply drew you close to him, bringing his right arm up to hold you sightly. You had a suspicion about what he had been planning to say but you said nothing and simply wrapped your arms around him, climbing into his lap to cradle his head to your shoulder and Bucky took a deep breath before he spoke again.
“Can we simply cuddle tonight?”
“Of course, we can.”
“I’m sorry for ruining--”
“I’m not even going to let you finish that sentence.” You interrupted, keeping your voice gentle. “You haven’t ruined anything and you could never ruin anything by not wanting to sleep with me or needing to stop in the middle of sex. Do you understand?”
He nodded against your shoulder. “I understand.”
“How about we cuddle up under the blankets and simply watch a movie?”
“Depends.” Bucky drew back to give you a playful smile and that was enough to ease your worries a little bit. “Will there be popcorn?”
“Of course.”
---
Bucky’s terrified reaction to thinking he had accidentally hurt you didn’t leave your mind for days. You made sure to assure him that you felt absolutely safe with him and eventually he started to relax again. Your routine continued as usual until, after a small mission, Sam came over for a visit to celebrate everyone’s safe return. The three of you had eventually ended up watching a movie on your sofa after dinner -- one that Sam had suggested because Bucky hadn’t seen it, yet.
As the movie went on you inched closer to Bucky, wanting to be close to him after a rather hard mission. So while he was engrossed by the movie you reached out to lift his left arm up and put it around your shoulders. It took Bucky a few seconds to react and he moved his arm away from you, resting it on the back of the sofa before looking at you.
“Would you mind switching sides with Sam?” Bucky asked softly, a frown on his face as he looked at you. “Then I can hold you all evening, Doll.”
You looked at him for a second, worry overtaking you as you once more saw how worried he was about touching you with his vibranium arm. “I don’t mind staying on your left, Love.”
“Sweetheart, I’d be more comfortable if you moved to my right side.” Bucky explained quietly before turning to Sam. “You wouldn’t mind switching sides, right?”
Sam’s worried eyes locked with yours for a second before he looked back at Bucky. “Of course not.”
With that, he stood and the two of you switched sides, Sam on Bucky’s left now and you on his right. Bucky extended his right arm and you gave him a soft smile before leaning into him, embracing him as he pulled you close to his side. The three of you continued to watch the movie but all you could think about was how worried Bucky still was about touching you with his metal arm and wondering how you could prove to him that he didn’t have to be. When the move was over and Bucky left to put the dishes away you couldn’t help but speak to Sam about it, wanting to hear someone else’s thoughts on this whole situation.
“How do I help him with that?”
“With the dishes?”
“No.” You rolled your eyes a little, annoyed by him not immediately understanding the issue but also somewhat understanding the miscommunication. “I mean how do I help him with how scared he is to touch me with his metal arm? It seems like he’s scared to hurt me with it.”
Sam looked at the door to the kitchen before nodding. “Now that you say it he really seems a little concerned about it.”
“He is more than a little concerned, Sam.” You said, sounding more worried by the second. “He keeps me exclusively to his right side, he won’t touch me with his left hand and he panics whenever he accidentally does so.”
“Really?”
“Last week he caught me with his left arm and went into a downright panic, apologising for hurting me multiple times.” You recounted the event that was still present in your mind before sighing. “I really want to help him see that I am not afraid of him hurting me and that I trust him completely but I don’t know how. Do I just tell him? Do I show him? How do I show him?”
Sam thought for a few seconds before sighing softly. “I would continue doing what you’re already doing -- telling him you don’t mind him touching you with it, showing him that you trust him and just reassuring him when he overthinks.”
“You think that will be enough?”
“He’s made such great progress and you helped him with that. I can’t remember the last time he was so relaxed and smiling so much.” Sam reassured you with a soft smile. “You help him a lot.”
“I just worry about him.”
“I think that he’s spent so long thinking of his arm as nothing but a weapon -- even after he got the vibranium one -- that it will simply take him some time to realise that it’s not inherently dangerous.”
His words got you thinking for a few seconds before you nodded. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
“Of course, you should respect it if he feels more comfortable not touching you with his left arm, but you could always simply talk to him. If you think bringing this up will help, then sit down with him, tell him that you feel absolutely safe with him, and reassure him.”
“Thank you, Sam.”
“Anytime.”
“What are you two talking about?” Bucky asked as he walked back into the room, chuckling a little as you and Sam turned around in perfect unison. “That synchronised head turn is pretty creepy, you know?”
“Should we stand at the end of a hallway like the twins in The Shining?”
Bucky gave you a questioning look. “I don’t think I’ve seen that movie before.”
“We could watch it right now.” Sam exclaimed before smiling a little as he came up with a quick excuse as to what you two had been talking about. “We were actually just wondering what movie to watch next.”
“Then let’s watch that movie.” Bucky said and sat back down, pulling you close to him. “It’s a horror movie, I assume from context, right? Won’t it scare you, Doll?”
You chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Horror movies don’t scare me. Besides, they are nothing compared to the bad guys we fight on a daily basis.”
“Will you get scared?” Sam grinned at Bucky, giving him a teasing look. “If you end up scared in your partner’s lap, I will laugh at you. I hope you know that.”
“I don’t get scared that easily.”
“We shall see.”
---
After your talk with Sam and deciding you should speak to Bucky about his fears, you waited for the right time to do so but when it never seemed like the appropriate moment, you sat down next to him on the bed one quiet evening. The slight drizzle outside had forced you to stay in that day and Bucky was reading on the bed when you came inside. He looked up from his book to give you a small smile but when he saw your serious expression he put it down and sat up properly.
“Love, what’s wrong?”
“Can I talk to you?”
“You can talk to me about literally anything.”
You nodded and sat down on the bed next to him. “I’m gonna say it straight out because I don’t want to beat around the bush and honestly, I’m unsure of how to approach this subject. I realised that you are worried or afraid to touch me with your vibranium arm and I need you to know that I am not scared of it or worried you’ll hurt me with it.”
Bucky looked at you for almost a full minute before he seemed to have concluded what to say. “Doll, I really appreciate you telling me that you’re not afraid of-- of my arm and that you’re speaking up on this because you worry about me but I-- I know how strong and destructive this arm is. It was built as a weapon.”
“But it no longer is. You use it to help people, to protect them. I just-- I mean, just on the last mission we were on you saved a whole elevator full of innocent civilians by holding it up until they could be evacuated.” You tried to reason. “I know it’s hard for you to believe and I understand that.”
“It’s hard to realise that. I know that I help innocent people and I know that what happened to me wasn’t my fault, trust me. After everything that happened, I’ve learned that.” Bucky said before sighing deeply, taking your hand into his right one. “But that doesn’t change the fact that objectively speaking the arm was designed to be a weapon, that it’s capable of terrible things and could hurt you even if I don’t want to.”
“Anyone is capable of hurting people, metal arm or not, James.”
“It was designed as a weapon.” Bucky repeated and you realised how mentally caught up he was on that fact. “A gun is still dangerous even if it’s not inherently bad.”
You were quiet for a second, gaze dropping to his vibranium arm. “The arm you have now wasn’t designed as a weapon, though. You got it in Wakanda, not at a Hydra base. The scientists there gave it to you because they trust you not to hurt anyone.”
“Yet they put in a mechanism that allowed them to detach it with the press of a button.” Bucky said, eyes dropping and tearing up just slightly. “And I don’t blame them for not trusting me completely.”
“I do.” You said in earnest, squeezing his hand with both of yours. “I trust you blindly, James. Please try to believe me that I trust you completely.”
Bucky looked up at that, teary eyes meeting yours before he pulled his hand away to wrap around your shoulders and pull you into a tight embrace, burying his face at your shoulder. You quickly hugged him back, bringing a hand up to cradle his head.
“Thank you, Love. Your trust means the world to me.” Bucky whispered into your shoulder, voice tight with emotions. “But I still know that the arm could potentially harm you and I mean-- I would feel better if I weren’t touching you with it.”
“That’s alright.” You said softly, holding him tightly. “Whatever you need is alright. I just noticed how scared you were and I wanted you to know that I trust you.”
“Thank you.”
---
A new mission coming along shoved all your remaining worries to the back of your mind. Now infiltrating a base of previous HYDRA agents to retrieve secret files was not an easy task but you and Bucky had encountered hurdles far bigger and together you had always managed to overcome them. It took a while but eventually, you two were rushing to your getaway car, dodging bullets from the former agents while you kept the files safely clutched against your chest.
Bucky threw open the car door and got inside while you slid across the hood of it to get to the passenger side. Once you were inside, he hit the gas and took off, tires screeching against the concrete and you gripped the back of the seat to keep yourself steady as he swerved around a building to get away from the abandoned warehouse the former agents had holed up in. As you buckled up he turned to you for a second.
“You okay, Doll? No injuries?”
“I’m fine. How about you?”
“Me, too. Let’s get out of here.”
But before you could there was a loud bang from underneath the car and before you knew what was happening the vehicle flipped over. Everything went by in a blur. The car landed on the roof and when you opened your eyes again you found yourself hanging upside down from your seat. Bucky unbuckled himself and was at your side in an instant, worry etched on his face.
“Are you alright?”
“Mostly fine. What happened?”
“I think they threw a bomb underneath the car. I know I did it once back under HYDRA’s control and the whole car flipped over like ours did.”
You were about to answer when a shot was fired at the car and pierced through the back window before the bullet lodged itself in the back of your seat’s fabric. Bucky pulled out his gun and you tried to free yourself from the seatbelt just to realise that its mechanism had been damaged in the crash, leaving you unable to unbuckle it. Anything you could have used to cut yourself free was out of reach and so was your gun. Panic rose in you as you turned to look out the window to find one of the agents approaching your getaway car with a rifle in their hand.
They aimed at your head and fired. Fully expecting to be hit you turned your head away, not able to move much due to the seat belt still holding you relatively in place. You knew that even if you moved your upper body, the agent would still be able to hit you if they just slightly readjusted their aim, so you closed your eyes in anticipation. Then suddenly a metallic clang echoed through the car and when you looked back toward the window you found your sight obstructed by Bucky’s vibranium arm.
He had blocked the bullet with it. He had saved your life.
Then he fired at the agent that had shot at you, sending them to the floor. Quickly, he used the vibranium arm to yank your seatbelt from where it was fastened to the car and free you. Once out from your confinement, you grabbed your gun and helped him shoot at the agents to take them out.
And soon enough, all of them were down just in time for your backup to arrive. Both of you were quickly helped into the other car and then you were off on your way, Bucky sitting next to you in the back of the SHIELD van. When the van had started driving off and you two knew you were safe, Bucky turned to you.
“Are you injured, Love? They didn’t hit you, did they?”
“No, they didn’t.” You said, taking his left hand into yours and before he could pull it back you shook your head, speaking up again. “You saved me. You say the arm was designed as a weapon but today it saved my life.”
Bucky looked at you for what felt like forever but was realistically not more than about a minute before his vibranium hand squeezed around yours, eliciting a small smile from you. He was slowly realising that his arm was more than a weapon and seeing that it had the potential to protect the ones he loved. You knew that holding your hand was a small step forward but it still meant moving in the right direction.
“Thank you for saving my life, James.”
“I would always save you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
---
A few hours later found you and Bucky at your place, reclining on your bed and watching a movie on your laptop. Bucky was still working off his list of things he had missed, the idea having been something he’d picked up from Steve a few years earlier, and this evening you two had decided to watch a movie that he had yet to see. The blanket was draped over the two of you and Bucky’s right hand was settled on your hip, thumb gently rubbing your skin. With the adrenaline of the mission wearing off, Bucky right next to you, and the sun setting outside you felt your eyelids growing heavy. The movements of your left hand that had been running up and down his right arm were faltering now and again. Your head kept drifting onto Bucky’s shoulder before you brought it back up to watch the movie.
But eventually, your exhaustion combined with his gentle ministrations made you drift off, head coming down to rest on his shoulder and body snuggling into his side. Had you not been so exhausted from the fight you would have noticed that your head had fallen onto Bucky’s left shoulder, left hand coming up to wrap around his biceps.
You were awoken a few minutes later by a loud noise coming from the television, immediately followed by Bucky quietly swearing and the volume being turned off. Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head to look up at him and he gave you an apologetic smile.
“Go back to sleep, Doll. I turned the volume down. You can rest.”
With another soft smile you snuggled back up to him, your cheek smushed against the cool vibranium of his left arm and your hand once more holding onto his biceps. It was a few seconds later that you realised you were holding onto his left arm and you tilted your head up to look at Bucky. When he saw your head turning he examined your face, taking in your thoughtful expression.
“What are you thinking about, Doll?”
“I’m leaning against your left arm.” You whispered, running a finger up the biceps of said arm. “Is this really alright for you? As I said, I’m not afraid of you hurting me and I trust you completely, but I know that you don’t really like touching me with it and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“You were right, earlier in the van.” He said softly, eyes flicking to the window so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact. “Had it not been for my vibranium arm, you might not be here right now. And it made me think about all the things you’ve said about the arm beforehand.”
“How so?”
“The arm was meant to be a weapon, the one from Hydra most definitely, and even the one I got in Wakanda had the potential to be used as one. But you were right about it not being used as one anymore, or at least not outside of fighting bad guys.” Bucky concluded, eyes flickering to your face once before focusing back on the window. “It helped me save you and it helped me save many others before.”
“I’m glad you’re starting to see your arm as something other than a weapon.”
Bucky turned back to look at you before resting his cheek against your head. “It’s something that’s been ingrained in my brain for a long time, though, so please give me time, and don’t be upset if I’m ever withdrawing from you or afraid to touch you.”
“I would never be upset with you for that, James. Why would you even think that?”
“Because you always get so sad when I talk negatively about myself or the arm.”
“That’s not because I’m upset with you. I understand that it’s hard to see a part of yourself that others have misused as a weapon as anything but that. When you say things like that it makes me hurt for you.” You explained softly, bringing a hand up to cup the cheek that wasn’t smushed against your head. “And I know you don’t like people pitying you but that’s not what I’m doing. I love you and I hate seeing you in any sort of distress.”
“I’m doing much better now.” Bucky promised quietly. “I mean, I’m far from fine and I still have nightmares and fears and the like, but I’m so much better than I was before and I will get better in the future. So please don’t worry about me too much, Doll.”
“James, take one look at me and tell me that you think I’d be able to not worry about you.” You joked, earning a small laugh from him. “You know me too well for that.”
Smirking a little at your joke, Bucky reached out to turn the movie off and flicked the switch on the bedside lamp. “Still, please try not to be too concerned. You’re helping me an awful lot, I hope you know that.”
“And I hope you know that every step you take in your recovery, no matter how small it might seem, is something you can be proud of. I’m proud of you for how far you’ve come.” You closed your eyes then, cuddling up to him. “And I trust you with all my heart.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. That’s on you for being trustworthy.” You whispered. “But is it physically uncomfortable to keep the arm on while sleeping?”
“No, with the new one, it’s not. The old metal one was heavier and could get uncomfortable but this one is fine.” Bucky said with a smile before kissing your head as you snuggled closer to his side, your head moving to rest on the junction between his vibranium arm and his shoulder, allowing him to wrap his left arm around you. “Thank you for everything, Love. I love you so much.”
“Right back at you, Sweetheart. I love you just as much.”
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heliads · 2 years
Note
YOUR ARAGORN FATHER FIC IS EVERYTHING IDK IF YOU WRITE FOR HIM,,,, but could you possibly do a sam wilson father figure fanfic. i know you like details so it could be like them spending a day out together, or even him giving the reader fatherly advice when she’s having a hard time. idk i just love him as a father figure!!
sam wilson my BELOVED!! no bc he would be such a good dad
masterlist
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You are holding a newly minted ID, staring up at the doors of the Avengers complex and wondering what the hell you did to land up here. 
You do know, of course. You slipped up in front of a security camera you hadn’t realized was there, and S.H.I.E.L.D. in all its Orwellian glory figured out that you were an inhuman. Next thing you knew, a couple of agents were letting themselves into your house and talking about how they’d love to get to know you further, say, through the Avengers Initiative. 
It wasn’t the greatest start to a future career, but some part of you had always wanted to do something more with yourself, so it sounded perfect. You don’t have to pack your bags just yet, merely commute to the complex a few days per week. 
Still, it’s a big jump from your home life to this. Understatement of the century, as it turns out. You knew your life would be different once your inhuman abilities manifested for the first time, but you were hoping to hide them for at least a while longer. There’s no hiding, not anymore. For better or for worse, you are known. 
The only thing now is to enter the Avengers complex and see what your future has in store for you. No one really told you what to expect after this, or even how to let yourself in after showing up at the undisclosed address. You try the door, but find it locked. After a few moments’ panicked thinking, you knock, as if you’re just another neighbor on their way over to borrow a cup of flour, not a fledgling inhuman who really doesn’t want to be doing this right now. 
Surprisingly, the door opens a couple of seconds later, revealing a kind looking man you recognize from the news as Sam Wilson, the Falcon. He holds out a hand to you, and you shake it, trying not to show just how disconcerted you feel. It isn’t every day that you meet an Avenger, you know, even if you might someday be one yourself. 
Sam smiles at you. “You must be Y/N. I’m here to give you the standard issue tour, so please come inside.”
You follow him in, doing your best not to stare. There isn’t a whole lot that would designate this place as the training grounds of the Avengers, other than S.H.I.E.L.D. logos everywhere and a ton of security. You thought it would look more lived in, but it could be just another governmental training facility for all you know. 
Sam glances over at you as the two of you walk down a wide hallway. “So, I heard they brought you in because you were an inhuman. What are your gifts, if you don’t mind me asking?”
You have no doubt that Sam already knows what you can do. Everyone here, from the Avengers themselves to every agent staffed to regulating the place, probably received a folder stuffed with information on you. Still, it’s nice that he’d ask, as it gives you a chance to put your abilities in your own words instead of the speculative version no doubt present in your S.H.I.E.L.D. dossier. 
You clear your throat quietly. “I can control my own body.”
Sam nods slowly. “I think we all can.”
You direct a startled look his way, but Sam is already snickering to himself. 
“Sorry, I couldn't help it. Please continue.” Sam says, and after pausing again to let his laughter subside, you do. 
“Well, yeah, we all have some control over our physical forms, but mine is different. I can heal my wounds, I can become super strong or super fast if I focus on it, and I can compel myself to levitate.”
The last part gets Sam’s attention. “You can fly?”
Again, you’re certain that he already knew that, but you do appreciate the enthusiasm in his voice. Most people just treat you like an anomaly or a weapon, but he’s genuinely excited for you. 
“Mostly. I haven’t had much time to practice, though.”
Sam chuckles. “Yeah, I can imagine it’s difficult to stay undercover while you’re looping around the top of the Empire State Building.”
The two of you turn a corner and find yourselves in a large room. Banks of holographic display monitors take up most of a far wall, their blue light reflecting dimly off of the faces studying them. Three people are in the room, although they turn around when they see you approach. 
Sam extends a hand to point them out, although he doesn’t really have to; every self respecting New Yorker knows their hometown heroes. “These lovely fellows are Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Natasha Romanoff.”
You nod, trying not to let your excitement show. Sure, you talked about meeting the Avengers, and you’ve already talked to Sam, but three are just standing here before you as if this isn’t totally crazy. 
Steve raises a hand in greeting. “Good to meet you, kid. Hope you enjoy your stay.”
Bucky manages a half nod in your general direction, whereas Natasha folds her arms across her chest. “Sam, why do you get to do the tour and not one of us?”
Sam smirks. “I have been deemed ‘more welcoming’ than the rest of you. Feel free to complain to S.H.I.E.L.D. HR if you feel slighted. Also, Y/N can fly, which automatically makes us good friends.”
Bucky snorts. “Yeah, I can see your bird habits are coming in handy for bonding.”
Sam rolls his eyes, looking back at you. “Don’t mind them, they’re just bitter that I had to help every single one of them with their taxes over the past week.”
You frown. “Even Natasha? I thought she’d be able to do taxes with ease because she’s an agent.”
Across the room, Natasha shakes her head dolefully. “I kept trying to commit tax fraud and Sam wouldn’t let me. I wouldn’t even have gotten caught.”
Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, indicating that this is a conversation they’ve had many times before. “Someone would notice, and then they’d start asking questions about why you were so good at committing tax fraud. We’re on thin ice as it is, we don’t need another scandal to mess us up.”
You grin. “I don’t know, I think a little tax fraud between friends can’t hurt.”
Natasha gestures towards you happily. “See? Newbie gets it.”
Sam sighs. “Their name is Y/N, not newbie, and we do not encourage tax fraud in the slightest. Come on, let���s see some of the other places before you get into Natasha’s other habits, like assassination or hacking into government systems.”
Natasha waves goodbye cheerily as you and Sam depart the room. He takes you into a few training rooms, and you meet some other agents with important names and faces that you definitely didn’t forget the second they left the room. 
The highlight of the tour, however, comes later. Once Sam checks all the boxes, he takes you up to the roof. On the way up, he grabs his wings, so you can tell what he’s got in mind. 
Flying around with an Avenger sounds like the best plan ever, but once you’re standing over the edge to the roof and looking down at the ground seemingly miles below you, it’s a different story. Sam’s facing you expectantly, and although you hate to disappoint him after you’ve just met, you still find yourself backing away from the edge. 
“I don’t know about this. Like I said, I haven’t actually had much flight training. Wouldn’t it be better to, I don’t know, start a little closer to the ground, and not on my first day here?”
Sam shrugs, putting down his wings so he can stand beside you. “There’s no time like the present to learn. Besides, for some things you can’t start small. When you fly, you have to trust yourself completely. On this sort of thing, training wheels are more of a hindrance than a help. I’ve had enough practice to know that.”
You cast your gaze back over the edge, but it seems no friendlier than before. “Why can’t we take our time, though?”
Sam’s voice is gentle. “We don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, which is the problem. You know as well as I do that you’re not here for a fun extracurricular, you’re here because we need someone else to help us save the world. Danger is going to come soon, it always does. The way I see it, the faster you’re ready, the better.”
You fold your arms across your chest in an attempt to stave off the cold wind ripping through your skin at this altitude. “I didn’t ask for this. How can I control my gifts so fast if all I’ve ever done before is try to hide them?”
You’re just complaining, you know that, but Sam doesn’t seem annoyed. Instead, he just fixed you with a knowing look. You can’t help but wonder if he’s practiced his parenting/mentor skills on the other Avengers, too, or if you’re just the perfect candidate. 
“It’s not fair. None of this is fair. I’m not going to stand up here and pretend that it is. That being said, you can either push everything away, or you can fight for a future in which things are fair again.”
He pauses, collecting his thoughts, then starts speaking again. “I know it’s hard for you to leave your world behind and come work for us, but I do think you can handle it, honestly. The only thing in between you and that success, though, is you. Are you ready?”
You nod. “I think I am.”
Sam steps away again, smiling, and extends a hand towards the awaiting drop. “Alright, then. Show me.”
You take a deep breath, stretch your arms, then walk to the edge of the roof. The height is still dizzying, but Sam’s words are ringing in your ears. You have to face this for things to get better. Don’t look, just leap. 
You throw yourself from the edge before you have much time to think. The wind races past your ears, snatching at your clothes and skin. All you can feel is the sensation of falling faster and faster. For a moment, you think you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. Who’s going to have to scrape your remains off of the pavement when you can’t get this to work?
You let your eyes shut. You’re floating, you’re flying. You have to come out on top. The wind ceases around you, and it’s blissfully silent until the sound of applause breaks your serenity. 
When you open your eyes, you’re floating. Somehow, you came back up level with the roof, and Sam is clapping like he’s just seen a magic trick. In a way, you suppose he has. 
You beam, you can’t help it. “I did it! I didn’t die!”
Sam chuckles. “That you did, kid. I’m proud of you.”
Something starts to warm your spirits, a gradual feeling, like eating hot soup on a wintry day. You feel proud, too. You can’t deny that you’ve been having doubts about what you can do, but for once, those traitorous voices are silent. You are perfectly capable, just like Sam told you. 
Sam shouts over to you as he tightens the straps holding his wings to his chest. “See? Fun, huh?”
You grin. “Yeah, it’s great.”
Sam takes a running start off of the roof as well, soaring up to meet you. If this is how life as an Avenger in training is going to go, you’re not sure that you mind it anymore. You’ve got a lot to learn, sure, but you’ve got a great teacher, and you don’t have to hide your abilities any longer. It’s as if one great world is opening up before you, and for once, you’ve got the tools to take control. Who knows what the future will bring, but you’re keen on exploring it anyway. 
marvel tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv-blog, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie
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bi-ss · 3 months
Text
~ Ties that bind ~
Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.
Warnings - non, I don't think..
(This is a little bit of part 1, so I made write more I may not, we'll see. I'm also going to give the reader and her parents a positive relationship. idk I think it suits the best
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You always knew you were to be married off. Your mother was always transparent with you about that. She always told you that you may not like the man or woman, but love was always hard to find anyway. So one day, when you were 16, you typed up an agreement and gave it to your father about if you were married off, what you wanted, you do have your mother's stubbornness after all.
*knock knock*
"Come in," hearing your father grumble, you push the dark wooden doors which you are a lot heavier than your dad and his men made it seem. You stand in the doorway for a second before your dad gets up from behind his desk. He slowly walked round, motioning for you to come in and close the door. He pulled a comfy seat out a bit before sitting on his desk. You sat out looking up at him, handing him the typed papers in your hands. He looked at the title and gave it back to you.
"Read it to me, Ladybug." You smiled at the nickname he used and has used since you were a baby. "I see your mother as prepared you for this, and I see you listened for once," he joked, knowing you never liked working or school for that matter.
"I don't want to be a housewife, can't think of anything worse," you scoffed at your remark while your dad just laughed, still smiling down at you. "But I would prefer if you read it then get back to me as I told mother I'd help her cook.. it's burrito night!" He slowly nodded at you. Reading aloud wasn't something you liked doing. Taking the papers stapled together, you got up and started walking towards the doors, dreading the embarrassment of trying to open them again, but you didn't have to. Your dad was right behind you, holding it for you like you didn't just use all the strength to pry it just a little.
That's how you life's always been, your mother, a housewife. Your mother was the most beautiful and mature woman to probably ever exist, her long vibrant curly ginger hair, her pale soft skin loaded with freckle, her forest green eyes complemented everything about her even those rosy cheeks and lips. She adored your father as much or even more as he adored her. They do say opposites attract, fitting for your parents as your father, the breadwinner. Your father was a handsome and smart man, with dark chocolate hair which your mother loved putting into pigtails, his skin is covered with tattoos front to back, up and down, his toned and tan skin barely visible, his one good eye a smokie light grey colour, is other eye was sew shut while being littered with scars. Your dad has become more careful and gentle when your mother is pregnant. It wasn't hard to see that his men liked this change to, according to your mother. An example is when the twins joined, Wanda and Pietro maximoff joined, and they were put through uni with help from the family in case they wanted an out, making sure they had a choice. They stayed by the family's side.
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Now, 6 years later, you're sitting in your fathers office it hasn't changed a bit, you can't say the same about them, he was sitting on the worn-out leather chair with your mother behind him, their hair turning grey and with smile line proudly on display. You sitting at the side of the desk, not next to your dad and not next to Mrs and Mr Barnes, with their irritated son, James Barnes. The meeting was already off to a bad start when his girlfriend Sharon demanding to attend, but met with your dad saying he didn't have business with her and if that's know they did things, he'll call it off. You listened in on the conversation when your dad wasn't there, and to sum it up, Mr Barnes threatened, saying he'll disown his son and give it all to Rebecca. She's now at the bottom of the stairs being watched secretly by maids, workers, and guards. The elderly guest were very shocked at the fact they didn't even know you were there when they were giving the to toddler a reality check, which made both your parents proud and all 4 laugh about it. Before the definition of cantankerous, egocentric, and many more adjectives, you couldn't ever walk in.
. . . . .To be continued. . . .
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fluffysucker · 5 months
Text
Desperate People find faith.
Bucky Barnes x reader
An accident mends your broken heart.
A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.
I read this amazing oneshot, and I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. So I added my own twist to it. Thanks to the wonderful writer for sharing it and for inspiring me.
Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me
TW: Bullets and blood. Mentions of torture but nothing explicit
Main Masterlist
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You knew you shouldn't have done it. You should have stayed home. What could barely be described a home. You should have minded your business. You should have acted like the civilian you are now. You shouldn't have done it. But your loyalty to Steve wouldn't have let you
The image of the cheap copy so-called Captain America holding the shield blasting all over the news was a hit. A gut-wrenching hit. There was a guy who was taking the place of your childhood best friend, the man you called brother, the fearless leader. And he looked happy doing so. Then the blond had the audacity to say that Steve felt like a brother to him. You felt physical pain that you almost threw up.
Rationality went out the window. Before you knew any better, you were tracking down the man who was handed your friend's legacy. The man who gave it away when there was nobody more deserving than him. It wasn't hard to know exactly where Sam Wilson was. You were aware he joined the Air Force once again. So you hijacked the location of his next mission, demanding answers.
But it appeared that you weren't the only one who had the same plan. As you were talking to Sam, trying to be as nice as you could, giving him the benefit of the doubt, telling him you weren't here to judge or pick a fight. You just wanted an explanation. You heard him.
"Shouldn't have given up the shield."
His voice was filled with anger. But you could hear the sadness hidden in his tone. Sam scuffed, walking away from you as well. You turned around and you saw him. The love of your life. Quite literally.
You fail to recall a time you weren't in love with James Buchanan Barnes. Growing up together, your trio was inseparable. You would never see one without the others. From the age of three till your twenties, the three of you were more than family.
Despite loving Steve like the brother you never had, the same couldn't be said about his best friend. Your feelings for the brunette were never platonic. Neither were his. In the second grade, he promised to marry you once he got older. And he did. He kneeled to the ground with a beautiful golden ring for you once he secured a job. It was the easiest yes in your life.
Loving him came to you naturally. Stolen glances. Sweet words. Fast heartbeats. Shy smiles. Gentle touches. You were each other first everything. It was like you were made for each other. Like you were born to love him.
And he was your perfect man. Every woman envied you. Every woman hoped to have someone look at her like he looked at you. Every woman wished for a man who treated her the way he treated you. Every woman prayed for a man to love her that much.
Bucky Barnes was head over heels in love with you. And he made sure he showed it.
You were the luckiest girl.
Up until your luck ran out. War knocked on your door like a hurricane, destroying your life.
You remember the night before Bucky was shipped. When you went home after what couldn't be called a double date at Stark expo. The promises the both of you made. Your dream wedding. Your house. Your family. Your kids. All of it. Your future. And you believed him. You couldn't fathom any alternatives.
So when Steve walked in your tent where you did your job as a journalist, who was asked to cover The Howling Commandos missions and subject their heroism to the public, you knew. The look of utter defeat in his face, his glassy eyes, his red nose, the way he was trying to shrink away in his new huge body, you knew.
Your heart was ripped and broken to pieces. The pain was suffocating. You were drowning. You felt like the world ended. Life stopped.
You don't remember how things went after that. You don't remember if Steve ever said the words to you, but you remember his promise of revenge as he held your sobbing body against his chest.
And he did. He ended Hydra. But it came with a price. Very high. After Steve's sacrifice, life became meaningless. You weren't living. You were barely breathing. You were alone.
So when the government asked you to write the final article about the war, the winning announcement, you were about to turn it down. You found difficulties in everything. Leaving your bed sounded like a tiring task. Eating felt like a punishment. Functioning like a human became a burden.
But you remembered how supportive Bucky was of your career. When every man let women their abandon their dreams, Bucky helped you fight for yours. And he gave his life for this victory. Your fiancée and bestfriend. You owed it to them. To be the one to report the triumph tinted with their effort and blood.
So you put in all your strength and travelled with the small team to write the most important piece of work in your life.
However, only a number of people of the team and the article made it back. You didn't.
On your way back, you were ambushed by unknown soldiers. They took you to unknown quarters. You were so confused until you saw that cursed symbol. They weren't gone. Neither was your fiancée.
And that began a lifetime of torture and pain. They brainwashed Bucky but left you with your memories. So when they threatened to hurt him, you caved and let them do whatever they wanted to you. It was a trap they built for you, and you fell in it every time. They would hurt both of you at the end.
You endured it all. You survived it all. Except the moment they made Bucky look you in the eyes and fight you. They erased you from his mind. You saw the love of your life, and he saw nothing. He looked at you and saw either an enemy or a mission partner. And that was the most painful torture Hydra put you through.
As if this wasn't enough. You had to face a hindrance you never thought of.
After Steve rescued the both of you, after him running away from you, after spending two years making amendments with the government and helping Steve search for him, after the accords and Zemo's predicament, after he remembered you, after Princess Shuri was able to give him back his freedom, after you hugged him as he cried, after you decided to finally have that wedding, Thanos happened.
You believe you did something so terrible in another life, and you were getting punished for it in this life. There was no logical explanation as to why this kept happening to you. Why were you robbed of any chances of happiness. Why did you have to watch your man disappear right after having him back. Why you could only feel ache and misery. Why was the world so cruel.
So you kept your hopes to minimum when Steve came to your shared apartment one night, telling you that they had a plan. You agreed to join them in the time heist, ready to be disappointed.
But the second you saw Bucky standing on the sides with his machine gun, you wanted to cry. You thought it was an illusion, but these blue eyes said something else. Now, you were fighting with a strong drive and purpose.
You thought that was it. Your happy ending. You finally had him. But Steve leaving tore you apart. You were happy for your bestfriend who finally did something for himself. However, you couldn't help but feel sad. At least you and Bucky had each other.
Bucky had another thing in mind. Because, a couple of weeks after Steve leaving, Bucky broke up with. He said he needed to figure himself out and work on his pardon. You understood. But it didn't make it any easier.
So you left, giving him all the space he needed. You hadn't seen or spoken to each other since. At least he is alive. That's what you kept telling yourself to find any sort of comfort or condolence.
So this was the first time you had met. He looked different. He cut his hair. He had a scruff. He was wearing an all black outfit. He had gloves on. He had little bags under his eyes. He looked good overall. That's what mattered to you.
"Good to see you too, Buck." Sam said as he walked with intentions to move away from Bucky.
"This is wrong." Bucky didn't give him the chance as be walked beside Sam, without batting you an eye. You couldn't say that didn't hurt but you followed them anyway.
"Look, I'm working, alright. So all this outrage is going to have to wait." It was clear that Bucky wasn't here to have a civil conversation like you.
"You didn't know this was going to happen?" Bucky accused Sam.
"No, of course I didn't know that was going to happen." Sam was quick to deny Bucky's accusations.
"You think it didn't break my heart to see them march him out and call him the new Captain America." This was more directed towards you, following up to your conversation before Bucky cut in.
"This isn't what Steve wanted." Bucky wasn't going to back down.
"Oh my god. So what do you want me to do? Call America and tell them I changed my mind. " Sam's sarcastic reply did nothing but annoy Bucky's more.
"Like I told your wife. There is nothing we can do. You just couldn't wait for her to get home." You looked at Sam. It didn't appear to you that he wouldn't know.
"We broke up."
Another wave of pain hit you as you turned to look at Bucky, who was still not looking at you. How easy could he just say it with no emotions at all. You were fighting to get by every day, and he looked like he didn't care.
"What?!" Sam stopped suddenly once he heard Bucky's words, turning to the both of you.
"You,two lovebirds who literally broke laws to be together, broke up?" Sam couldn't believe his ears. He thought you would have gotten married by now. Your love for each other more epic than all the novels he read.
"Were you asked to give it up?" You changed the topic quickly, refusing to answer Sam's question or talk about your tragic love story. It hurt bad enough, and you didn't want to show it.
"Of course not." Sam heard you loud and clear. He also knew your question had pure intentions. You weren't here to offend him.
"Right, great reunion, guys. Be well." Sam turned to walk out, ending this conversation.
"You had no right to give up the shield, Sam." Bucky was angry, and he was showing it. In the wrong way.
"This is what you aren't going to do. You aren't going to come here in your over extended life and tell me about my rights." Three of you came to a stop.
"It's over." Sam added, looking at you as you came to stand next to Bucky.
"Besides, I have bigger things to deal with."
And you hadn't rest since.
It was, indeed, big thing to deal with.
You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you impulsively followed Sam and Bucky into the plane.
It was a constant mess. The flag smashers. New super soldiers. Karli Morgenthau. Isaiah Bradley. Zemo. Madripoor. Power Broker. And the worst of them all. John Walker and Lemar Hoskins. It never ended.
All that chaos was a good distraction. You didn't have time to think about your broken heart nor to think about the current nature of your and Bucky's relationship.
It was complicated and confusing.
You fought very well together. Your combined sets of skills were lethal. Your collective training and ability to work together kicked in when needed. Away from that, the both of you barely talked. You acknowledged each other existence. That's how you would describe it.
However, you couldn't explain why Bucky refused when Raynor asked you and Sam to join them in the session in the police station. Or why he always made sure you stayed at least an arm distance away from Zemo. Or why did he choose to be the Winter Soldier for the night instead of you compromising your identity that you kept a secret all these years. Or why, that day at Madripoor, he almost took multiple bullets for you. Or why whenever John showed up, his hand would always find yours.
You were thankful you didn't have the time to think about all of this because you were sure you would have lost your mind. You barely had your emotions in checks. And there was a lot going on.
Then it all went crushing. You would never forget this day.
You followed Sam and Bucky, running out of the building into the street, only to see the calamity that just occurred.
John Walker stood proud with the blood-tinted shield above the man he just slaughtered.
Instinctively, your hand came up to wrap around Bucky's bicep, looking for any comfort for the both of you. This scene would forever be engraved in your memories.
Three of you gave John some time. You stood outside of the warehouse he was in right now. You knew if you all went angry, the results would be catastrophic.
But it was anyway.
You let Sam do most of the talking. He was the best in this. If anyone could convince John to hand over the shield, it would be him. So you stood and watched. But it appeared that the time you gave John Walker to cool down only drove him more over the edge. So, with the three of telling him to give up the shield, John Walker lost his mind.
It should have been an easy fight. A veteran and an avenger and two super soldiers. It shouldn't be hard. But neither one of the three of you was fighting was the intention to hurt John. Unlike him, John was fighting to kill. With his new powers, he was uncontrollable.
You let out a high-pitched scream once you saw John throw Bucky away, electrocuting his arm, making him lose consciousness. Then you watched as he straddled Sam on the ground. You needed to act quickly.
You groaned as you got up from the floor, looking at the cut in your arm. Nothing too bad. You told yourself as you ran toward John tickling him away from Sam.
It was just you and him, now.
And it was brutal.
You were still trying not to hurt him too much. However, he was unstoppable. So when he figured that he would lose combat with you eventually, he retrieved to other options.
Picking the shield and throwing it at you for it cause a cut in your chest was enough distraction for him to take out the gun he kept in his suit and shot you.
The bullets found their places in your stomach and legs. He aimed for places that you wouldn't recover from. You fell to the ground, coughing blood, feeling the bullets rest so deep in your body.
John walked towards you with the shield. He looked at you. His eyes were showing insanity and rage. He lifted the shield up and hit you in the chest. The pain was like no other. And you knew that was it.
It felt ironic in so many ways. Your bestfriend's shield. The shield that presented all of Steve's values and beliefs. The shield that helped once save your life. Now, it was going to be the weapon to kill you.
Of all the ways you thought you would die in, this wasn't even close. But when was life ever fair to you? At least you would have peace now. Your dying wish was for Bucky to know how much you loved him and how you wanted him to be fine and happy. Because you loved Bucky more than life itself.
You tried to distract yourself from the excruciating pain by counting how many hits of the shield would it take to end you.
You counted two.
You started coughing violently as you felt a weight got lifted off your chest. All your body going numb for seconds.
You saw Bucky was up once again, and he managed to corner John with Sam, trying to break his arm to take away the shield.
You desperately tried to get up and help them, but your whole body was on fire. Why was the serum not working?
A breath escaped you once you heard the sound of bone breaking. Only to realize breathing hurt. Everything hurt so bad.
With cuts on your arms and face, bruises on your ribs, wounds in your chest, bullets in your stomach and legs, you gave up, closing your eyes.
Because of your agonizing pain. You didn't hear Bucky beating the life out of John after taking the shield. He didn't stop until John passed out.
Bucky turned around and saw a sight that came straight out of his worst nightmares. He had seen it too many times. Woke up scared and sweating because of it. A sight that he knew would haunt him more than it already did.
Your lifeless body in a pool of blood.
He took careful steps towards you, praying it would disappear, and this would just be a nightmare of his. But the sound of your faint heartbeats made it real.
"Doll." Bucky got on his knees next to you, holding your motionless body in his arm.
You hissed in pain as you felt a movement that caused all the pain in your body to stir awake again.
"Bucky." Your voice was a whisper. You were too tired to open your eyes, but the feeling of the metal around you was familiar.
"I'm right here, doll." Bucky may not let it show in his voice, but if you opened your eyes, you would see the fear and tears.
"I need you to stay awake, okay. Can you do this for me? Please, stay awake." Bucky never felt this desperate before.
"Help is on the way." The three of you had already arranged with Torres to have an ambulance on stand-by. You had a feeling things would go bad. But not that bad.
"I'm tired." The amount of blood you were losing was making you too dizzy.
"I know, doll. But you will be okay." Bucky didn't care about the blood getting all over him as he pulled you closer to him.
"You will get better. Because you have to." He was saying it more to himself than you.
"I prayed for this." Talking was getting too hard, but you had to tell.
"What did you pray for?" Bucky was doing anything to keep you awake. He needed to listen to your voice.
"To die in your arms."
Bucky felt the tears escape his eyes, falling down freely on his face.
"You aren't dying. You will be okay." You heard it. The shakiness of his voice.
Fighting the great pain you were in, you opened your eyes to look at him. You wanted to see him one last time. This is why you prayed to die in his arms. So his face would be the last thing to see. This voice would be the last thing you heard. His arms the last thing you felt. Your farewell to the cruel world would be with the man who had been your heaven on Earth.
You lifted your arm with a moan of pain before you placed it on his cheek. You needed to say it. You needed it to be your last words.
"I love you, Bucky. I loved you my whole life."
With that, the world went dark.
You didn't get to see the mess that Bucky became as he heard your heartbeats slow down. His screams and desperate calls of your name to wake up.
He was so blinded by pain that he didn't let the paramedics near, protecting your body until he realized who they were. They didn't try to fight him when he insisted on getting in the ambulance with you.
All the time you were in the surgery, Bucky was inconsolable. He didn't care that Sam and Torres saw him as he sobbed, sitting on the floor waiting for anybody to tell you were fine. All he cared about was that he didn't say it back. You could die not knowing how much he loved you. The thought brought new tears to his already puffy red eyes
He prayed to God and anyone that would hear. If you were standing close enough, you would hear him. "Please, don't take her from me." "Please, let her be okay." "Take me instead of her." "She deserves so much better, please."
In his long life that was filled with hardships, torture, and wars, this was the worst pain he ever went through. He could feel his heart twisting and breaking. Every cell in his body was hurting. The emotional pain turning physical.
His eyes were dried up. Cheeks stained with tears. His mind going through all the worst scenarios. None of them he would be able to survive.
He jumped up from the floor when the door opened, and a doctor walked out. His heart was beating a thousand miles a second. All these prayers never leaving his mouth. His last hope.
"She is okay."
Tears of relief fell from his eyes. You survived it. You made it. The doctor talked about your injuries. With medications and the seurm, you would heal properly. Bucky didn't pay attention. His mind focused on one thing. He needed to see you.
After knowing your room's number, Bucky didn't leave your side. The doctor told him it might take a bit for you to wake up, but he didn't mind. He would stay forever.
It wasn't long before you woke up.
You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright lights. The last thing you remember was the intense pain. It didn't hurt as much now. You just felt so exhausted. You tried to move your hands, only to be blocked.
You looked down to see Bucky holding your hand so tightly and his head resting next to it. You could tell his eyes were swollen and his nose was red. But he looked peaceful sleeping. You missed him so much.
Without much thought, you moved your other free hand to his head, playing with his hair. It felt soft under your fingers. You blamed the serum that made him wake up from such a simple touch.
You smiled softly as you watched him, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing. He looked confused until he saw you.
"You are awake." Bucky got up from the seat next to the bed.
"Are you okay? Are you pain? What hurts? I'm going to call the doctor." He was frantic. He only stopped when you held his metal hand.
"I'm okay, Bucky." You reassured him with a smile.
You repeated it a couple of times before he finally sat back down on the chair. That's when you noticed he was still in his suit that was covered in blood. Your blood.
After he sat down, he looked at your intertwined fingers together and couldn't help the tears.
"What's wrong?" You asked as you moved your thumb gently on his knuckles.
"You scared the life out of me." He answered as he wiped his tears away.
"Though we were used to this, Barnes." You replied playfully, hands still together.
"Not when it comes to you. Never you." Bucky was fast to respond.
"Nothing I haven't been through before." You said it casually. You didn't miss the look in Bucky's eyes. It held too much depth to it. You couldn't put your hand on it
"Is your arm okay? Do you need to get it checked?" Flashbacks were coming back to you bit by a bit. As you touched his metal arm, you remembered what happened to him.
"You are in the hospital bed, and you are asking about my arm." Bucky's laugh was dry. He would always be in awe of how caring you were.
"I will never stop caring about, Bucky. Even if you don't want me." It was true. Nothing could make you stop caring about Bucky.
"Don't want you?" Bucky couldn't let your comment go by.
"Yeah. You don't want me anymore. It's okay. I understand."
"You understand?"
"I remind you of a bad time. The worst. And you had to move on. You had to cut ties with all parts of this time."
"Is this why you think we broke up?"
"Isn't it?"
You started telling yourself this after the breakup as a way to pick the shattered pieces of your heart. Of course, he didn't want to be with someone who held their bad time as a constant reminder on her body as scars. Or with someone who went through the same hell as him. He deserved someone better. Someone who wasn't so damaged.
And you understood.
"No, it isn't."
He was planning to tell you everything but not right now. But words just fell out from the tip of his tongue.
"I don't look at you and see bad time. I look at you, and I see all my failures."
You looked at him, baffled, not getting what he meant.
"I remember everything."
You still didn't know what he wanted to say.
"I remember what Hydra did to you. What they made you do for me. What I did to you."
"Bucky.."
"How they pushed you too far in the lies of not hurting me. How they made you watch as they erased you from my mind. How they made me fight you. Hurt you."
You were about to tell him how you didn't hold him accountable to any of this because it was never his fault. It was never his intention. You were sure Bucky would never hurt you. The Winter Soldier not too. But he cut you off.
"They took you because they knew how much you meant to me. How important you are to me. I was the reason you had to go through all of this."
"I look at you and remember how I failed to protect you. When that's all I ever wanted in life. To protect you. But I failed."
"Just like I failed today."
Before you could say anything, he kept going.
"I couldn't understand how you could still love me."
"I looked at the list of people I hurt, and your name was first. And you wanted to help me. You wanted to stay by my side. I couldn't live with the guilt. I still can't. I had to let you go despite how bad it hurts."
"But, doll, I want you to be sure nobody will ever love you half as much as I do."
It took years for Hydra to remove you from his mind. But what they didn't know was that they never fully succeeded.
At first, he would forget his name but remember his girl and everything about you. Then they become harsher, so he would only remember your face and name. Then, it became only your face. Then nothing. The blank paper for them to write what they wanted.
However, whenever Hydra made the both of you train together or go on missions, he would get this rush of flashbacks like a movie playing in his head once he was alone in his cell. It would be you. In different places and different ages. The Winter Soldier would convince himself that it must be his memories from past missions. Effects of being wiped too many times.
The soldier was never able to shake the feeling of guilt after a training session where he would be instructed to be tough with you. A feeling so foreign to him.
He remembers the first time he refused to hurt you. They made him watch from far as they tortured you. Then they wiped him again. Every time he showed any sympathy for you, he was wiped and handled roughly.
But all the efforts weren't enough. You were the first thing he remembered once he settled in Bucharest. That's when the guilt came in. It was you. The love of his love. His fiancée. And they got to you. And he couldn't save you.
Even after the blip, His thoughts kept going back to how he betrayed you and hurt you instead of protecting you like he was meant it.
But the worst part was how he thought he didn't deserve your love anymore. He thought you would resent him. So he decided to break his heart into two. He left.
You were the forbidden topic that Raynor wasn't allowed to go near despite how much she wanted. You were the centre of his nightmares. All of them. Past memories of both of you at Hydra. Missions and trainings. And the worst, losing you. Watching you getting killed. Nightmares that invaded him, and he was defenceless.
"I love you, and I'm so sorry." Bucky laid soft kiss on your hand.
"Let me ask a question, Bucky." He looked at you, tears still filling his eyes.
You didn't expect this to be the real reason why you and Bucky broke up. But you should have known. He was too good of a man.
"If it had been the other way you around, wouldn't you have done the same? Would you have hated me then?"
"I would give my life for you without hesitation. And nothing could ever make me hate you."
His answer was fast. That was the only thing he knew about himself. You come first, always.
"Then why are you surprised with what I did? You don't love me more, Bucky." You laughed softly, already feeling your ribs ache a bit.
You always had this running joke that Bucky loved you more than you did. And to a lot of the extent, it was true.
"You didn't deserve it."
"Neither did you."
You patted the spot on bed next to you, wanting him to be close to you. And he listened. He sat on the bed, hands never leaving each other.
"Haven't we been through enough? Haven't the world tore us apart too many times? Let us have this."
If he still loved you, then you should be together. You should be broken together. You should heal together. It was poetic how even in pain, you were still together.
Both of you understood each other better than anyone. You shouldn't be separated.
"You don't hate me?" It was Bucky's worst fear and biggest doubt. If the damage Hydra did was unrepairable.
"I can live hundreds of years and still be in love with you."
You squeezed his hand to make sure he knew how serious you were. "You are all I have ever known, Bucky."
With that, Bucky got up and moved so close to you. Your faces millimetres away from each other. His breath fanning over your face. His personal scent with dust and blood engulfing you. His blue eyes warming the inside of you.
"I got the best girl of them all." Bucky kissed you.
It was a soft, slow kiss. A sign of starting over. Of getting back.
You smiled in the kiss. Bucky used to say this all the time back then. You were known as Bucky's best girl. He used to call you that.
You broke away, feeling so much better now. Bucky rested his flesh hand on your cheek.
"I thought I lost you. I was so scared."
"You didn't. I'm right here."
"Though you will leave me before I say it back." You looked at him, puzzled.
"I love you, doll. You are the thing I live for. You are the purpose of my existence. I love you so much."
You didn't care about the pain as you moved up to meet his lips one more time. And he kissed you back right away.
"You owe me a ring and wedding, Barnes." You joked while you brought your other hand to hold into his suit to ground yourself.
He laughed before he moved away for a bit, and you already missed the closeness, and he wasn't far. You watched as he brought his dog tags out. You saw something bright with them but couldn't tell it was.
"Oh my god." You felt tears gather in your eyes as Bucky brought out the shiny thing closer.
It was your ring. Your engagement ring. The ring Bucky put in your finger many years ago. It was it. You thought it must have been lost that you didn't try to look for it, avoiding the disappointment.
But here it was. Bucky was able to find it. And he kept it with his dog tags. So close to his heart. Where you belonged.
Bucky got in one knee in his technical gear in a hospital room with you connected to IV.
"Doll, will you marry me?"
You laughed loudly that you felt pain shot again in your body. Bucky was next to you in an instant when your laugh turned to a cough.
"Third time is a charm." You said as you gave him your hand.
With another proposal in Wakanda before the snap, you managed to get Bucky Barnes on his knees three times for you.
He put the ring on your finger and pressed a kiss on your hand. "It will be. Mrs. Barnes." The name always had its sweet effect on you.
Bucky leaned in again to kiss you. And this kiss felt out of the world. Like a lifeboat before drowning. Water after the drought. Your rescue.
It was Bucky's promise of safety and security. Nothing and nobody was ever going to hurt you again. A promise of a safe home. Together.
You kept your forehead resting on his as your hand found its place once again on his suit.
"No to be rude, but you need a shower, babe." You could feel the dust on his face and the blood dried on his suit and skin.
"I will be okay. Probably going to fall asleep." You didn't give him a chance to protest.
"Plus, you know. I like my man nice and clean." You pecked his lips playfully.
The sound of the word "your man" falling from your lips referring to Bucky made his heart do little dances. Damn right he was your man.
"I won't take long." He kissed your hair before he got up and left to get himself presentable for his lady.
The world felt lighter, brighter, better. You felt happy. You were happy. You looked at the ring that held huge meaning for you. You weren't hurting. You were finally okay. You had your man back.
Who would have thought a near death incident would be the thing to give you back the man who always brought life to you.
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urdepressedslut · 7 months
Text
The Collection
♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into.
♡ Warnings: superrrrr fluffyyyy 🥹, slight panic, hints to paranoia, hints to PTSD, hints to bucky’s trauma, overall a comfort drabble
main masterlist
A/N: i have been adding to my own squish mallow collection and thought of this 🥰 i’m unhealthily obsessed with squish mallows
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Arriving back at your shared apartment, Bucky couldn’t help but notice the amount of time xtra large bags on the kitchen counter. He furrowed his brows in confusion and wandered to the fridge. Opening it in inspection, he didn’t see anything new or added.
You hadn’t gone grocery shopping…
He could hear faint shuffling from your shared room, and he couldn’t help but panic. His mind was brilliant at creating a problem from nothing. He was a professional over thinker— and sometimes it threatened to make his heart give out.
“Baby? I’m home!” He announced, shimmying off his jacket and making his way to the bedroom.
“James! Come quick— you gotta see something!” You said urgently.
He automatically thought the worst and all his suspicions were suddenly coming through. Visions of you hurt came to mind and he practically sprinted and busted through the door. The knob slamming into the wall with a loud thud.
“(Y/n)? You okay?!” He asked panicked.
His body relaxed at your calm state, only the look of confusion on your face. With a quick scan— he noticed there was nothing wrong with the room or you. In fact, if anything was different— it were the many new plushies on the bed.
Releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in, and ran a hand through his hair.
“James honey— you alright? Just wanted to show you my new squishmallows.” You asked him worried, walking over to stand next to him.
Truthfully, if anything he was embarrassed that he’d let himself get in his head again. But after finding you perfectly fine, and organizing your plushies— which he found adorable— he felt fine. He was only happy that you were okay.
“M’fine baby, just thought you were in trouble is all.” He told you honestly.
You softened your gaze to him, grabbing his hand and hiding him to the bed. You gently pushed him down to sit, and he did so willingly.
“I didn’t mean to sound all panicky— was just excited to show you the new ones I got today!” You told him, smiling like the cheshire cat.
He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as he looked down at the medium sized squishmallows.
“You know— this is considered an addiction.” He pointed out.
You scoffed, waving him off like it was no big deal.
“Some consider it a hobby actually.” You defended.
He raised his brows in amusement, chuckling again when he saw you being so defensive. He thought you were adorable.
“You’re so cute.” He said out loud, causing your face to grow hot.
After all this time— he was still easily able to make you blush, flustered from his compliments.
You shook off the flush in your face, choosing to pick up a new squishmallow to show him. You held up a medium sized seal squishmallow, to which Bucky smiled at.
“This is a seal one, his name is Remmy.” You told him.
Bucky grabbed it from your hands, giving it a test hug and holding it while you grabbed another one. Next was a longhorn squishmallow, with a ring dangling from its nose.
“This is a bull one, his name is Shep.” You told him, giving it a hug and then passing it to Bucky.
You held back a giggle, Bucky holding the plushies to his chest an adorable sight. Such a tough man with these cute stuffed animals.
“I like his horns.” He noted, fiddling with the plushie.
You picked up the last one, being a bird squishmallow. You smiled wide as you looked at it, this one being your favorite.
“This is my favorite of the three. I think he’s a hawk or something, and his name is Sam.” You explained.
Bucky’s eyes went wide and he started laughing, dropping the other plushies on the bed, he reached out and grabbed the hawk and inspected it.
“Sam, really?” He asked chuckling.
You nodded your head with a sly smile.
“Does our Sam know about this?” He asked again.
“Definitely not— but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” You told him.
You two laughed at the goofiness and you ended up being pulled by Bucky into the bed. He wrapped you up in his arms and the two of you started cuddling— just melting into each others embrace. The squishmallows surrounded you two while you both drifted off to sleep.
Nothing felt more perfect, nothing felt more right than being in his arms.
“Love you baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head.
“Love you more James.” You mumbled into his chest.
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TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7
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vigilante-3073 · 2 months
Text
Hold Me
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
PART 1
Summary: If you had the chance to save the one you love, would you take it?
Reader has the power to Teleport
TW: Angst, violence, blood, guns, denied feelings, love-hate relationship, super-soldier serum.
Musical recommendations: Can You Hold Me? By NF (Feat. Britt Nicole).
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Bucky sat on the leather couch in his therapist's office in silence as she searched through his phone. He usually enjoyed the silence, but today it made him want to crawl out of his skin. Bucky turned his head towards the window, the sky was dark and it had started to rain outside. His bright blue eyes followed the raindrops dutifully as they rolled down the glass, Bucky had always liked the rain.
"Who is Y/N?" Doctor Raynor asked, looking up from his cellphone screen.
"My roommate," Bucky stated.
"You never told me you had someone living with you," She said.
"Because it doesn't matter," Bucky said. He couldn't stand Y/N and he certainly didn't want to take up a second of his therapy session talking about her.
"The two of you talk quite a lot. Almost every day by the looks of it... How did you meet this person?" Doctor Raynor asked, pressing the power button on Bucky's phone. She held out the phone to him and he took it, setting it down on the couch beside himself.
"Steve," He said, looking down at his hands.
"Do you know why Steve introduced you to them?" Doctor Raynor questioned, picking up her pen.
Bucky sighed, shifting in his seat, "No," He said.
"Can you tell me about Y/N?" She asked.
Bucky could feel himself getting frustrated, "I'm not here to talk about her," He snapped.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow wordlessly.
"Why do you even care?" Bucky questioned, sinking back into the couch.
"Because you do," She replied.
"I don't care about her. She has made my life hell since the day I met her," Bucky said.
"How has she managed that?" Doctor Raynor asked, scribbling notes down into her book.
Bucky huffed, "She's just annoying," He shrugged.
"How so?" The Doctor pushed, not looking up from her notes. Bucky wanted to toss that notebook across the room.
"Can we talk about something else?" He asked desperately.
"Nope," She stated, looking up at him with a small smile. Bucky knew that there was no getting around her.
He sighed heavily, folding his hands in his lap, "She's always checking up on me... Texting, calling, forcing me into stupid conversations about my day and making terrible jokes," He listed.
"Does it feel overwhelming? Having someone check up on you, I mean," Doctor Raynor asked.
Yes. Yes, it does. Bucky thought bitterly.
"It feels like I'm being smothered... I know she means well, but it's just too much," Bucky stated.
"Have you told Y/N about how you've been feeling?" The Doctor asked.
Bucky sighed again, "No," He said plainly.
"Why not?" Doctor Raynor questioned.
"I don't want to hurt her feelings," Bucky muttered. And it was true, she was a good person, just overbearing sometimes.
"Huh, sounds to me like you care about her," Doctor Raynor said, closing her notebook.
"I don't," Bucky stated.
"Whatever you say," She smiled.
...
"Bucky!" Y/N cried, body colliding with his as she knocked him out of the way when the gunshot rang out.
The pair hit the suddenly sandy ground, rolling down the beach.
Bucky landed on his back with her body on top of him. He squinted up at the bright sky above them.
The leaves of palm trees rustled in the warm breeze, a few seagulls flying by overhead as the sound of ocean waves crashed against the shore.
"Where the hell are we?" Bucky asked, turning his head to see a large body of water with waves gently lapping at the shore.
They certainly weren't in Latvia anymore.
"I don't know," Y/N said, pushing herself up onto her knees with a grimace. She looked down at herself, "Shit," She muttered, Bucky looked up at her.
Y/N pressed her hand against her stomach, pulling it back to see her palm coated in blood.
Bucky sat up, looking down at her, "We need to get you to a hospital. Do you think you can portal us back?" He asked.
"Yeah, I-I think so," She stood up with Bucky's help, keeping her hand pressed against her stomach.
Y/N held onto his arm, closing her eyes as she tried to focus.
Nothing happened.
Y/N opened her eyes, "Bucky, it's not working," She said shakily, her eyes glossing over with tears.
"You can do this," Bucky assured, squeezing her arm reassuringly.
"Bucky, I'm scared," She mumbled, a single tear breaking loose and rolling down her cheek.
Bucky quickly wiped it away with his thumb, dread beginning to settle in his stomach when he noticed how pale she was getting, "I know. But you need to stay calm right now," He said.
"I don't want to die," She whimpered, gripping onto him desperately.
"You are not going to die. I won't let that happen, alright?" Bucky assured, cupping her cheek in his palm. More tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded.
"I need you to focus, sweetheart. Get us back," Bucky instructed.
Y/N would be going into shock soon.
Bucky watched her as she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. He could feel her trembling in his hold.
Nothing happened.
Y/N opened her eyes again, "I can't do it," She mumbled tiredly, knees buckling underneath her.
Bucky stepped forward, catching her and gently lowering her down to the sand below.
He knelt beside her, "I need you to keep your eyes open, doll," Bucky instructed. His heart started to race as panic set in.
Y/N was going to die right in front of him.
"Stay with me," Bucky ordered, taking her hand. Her body slumped against his chest, "I'm sorry," She mumbled.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for, sweetheart," Bucky assured, desperately trying to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't afford to break down right now, he needed to be strong for her.
"Can you hold me, please?" Y/N asked softly. Bucky nodded, carefully maneuvering her body into his lap with his arms holding her securely against his chest.
Her tired eyes stared out at the glistening ocean, "I certainly picked a beautiful place to die," She mumbled.
"You're not gonna die," Bucky choked out.
"It's okay. At least I'm with you," Y/N said softly.
She may have been a pain in the ass.
She may have been annoying at times.
But Bucky needed her.
Somewhere buried underneath all his fraudulent hate, he had fallen in love with her.
Bucky looked down at her as her grip on his hand went loose. Her eyes drifted shut, head leaning against his chest.
"Hey, Y/N. Y/N, open your eyes. Come on," He called shakily, tilting her head up to see her face. Bucky rubbed his thumb across her cheek, jostling her body in his arms, "Open your eyes," He pleaded, tears gathering in his eyes.
He could hear her heartbeat slowing in her chest. He looked up at the ocean, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin as tears rolled down his cheeks.
Bucky knew that he couldn't save her on his own, but he'd be damned if he left her alone to die. His body shook as he sobbed, cradling her in his arms.
Bucky looked over as something reflective caught his eye in the sand.
A syringe of blue serum.
It must have gotten swept up with them when Y/N portalled them out.
The serum could save her life or kill her, but she was going to die without treatment regardless.
Bucky reached over, grabbing the serum from the sand. The serum would give her a fighting chance and that was good enough for Bucky.
He stabbed the syringe into her thigh, watching the blue serum move from the vial and into her bloodstream.
For now, he would sit on the beach and hold her in his arms while watching the tide roll in.
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