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urdepressedslut · 8 months

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You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part twelve❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Reality is hitting you as you, Bucky, Steve and his men all venture off to a secret safe house only Steve knows about. The events from the last couple of days are starting to hit you with a sickening force, leaving you weak and crippled.

♡ Warnings: language, angst, fluff, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, sickness, paranoia, death threats, murderous thoughts, stalking, sam and bucky being absolutely my favs

series masterlist

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Bodyguard!Au Mob!Au

It was almost taunting the way your fingertips thumped, the last skim of your fingers across the book spines in your library. You tried to think of this being bittersweet, but could only find the bitterness of the situation. You were being ripped from your home, because of your Father. You were being forced to flee your house because of his sick and twisted mind, somewhere in his head he thought he was doing right by going after you. You couldn't even stomach the thought for too long, the mere mention of your Father's hatred towards enough to send you into a spiral.

The outside world passed by through your unfocused gaze. The buildings lessening and the trees getting denser. You weren't for sure where you were headed, but as long as Bucky was the one guiding you there— you didn't care.

"Hey." Bucky's voice brought you back to reality.

The dark and suffocating thoughts floating away as his smooth voice broke through the haze. You took more time than usual, taking in his expression briefly before responding.

"Hi James." You whispered, scooting closer to his side, tightening your hold on his hand.

His face dropped, his eyes softening at your vulnerable state. He wrapped his arm around your frame, tucking you closer to his side. The warmth from his body heated your own, your heartbeat slowing almost immediately from the feeling.

"You doing alright?" He asked, his eyes not breaking from your face, trying to catch every twitch and shift in your expression.

You forced a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes and nodded regardless of your inner struggles.

"I'm hanging in there. How much longer?" You reassured him, sneaking a peak out the window, only to find the thick forest.

"Not too much longer. We're headed to a safe house— one that only Steve knows about." He told you.

You furrowed your brows in curiosity.

"You've never been there?" You asked him, and he shook his head.

"No, but the less people that know— the better. Your Father won't be able to find you there." He told you.

You nodded and turned back towards the window, rubbing your thumb over the metal ridges on his hand.

"You'll stay with me right?" You whispered, your doubts getting the best of you.

He gently grabbed your chin, turning you towards him. His eyes shined with intense passion, a strong sense of genuineness within them.

"The whole time. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He promised and your anxieties vanished.

Your chest warmed comfortably, the safety he provided from his presence alone enough to calm you. You appreciated it greatly.

"Okay."

His eyes softened at your small voice, the urge to wrap you up in his arms overwhelming.

“C’mere.” He voiced, pulling you even closer.

You hugged around his body, burying your face into his chest. His body blocked you from the outside world, muting the chaos for a moment. It was peaceful and you felt powerful against him— like no one could hurt you.

The rumble of the car and Bucky’s heartbeat lulled you to sleep. There wasn’t a place you felt more comfortable in, than his arms. You couldn’t help but doze off with his arms caging you protectively.

“We’re here doll.” Bucky whispered, earning a sleepy groan from you.

You snuggled your face deeper into his body and had him chuckling, gently pulling you away from him, his metal hand smoothing down your now messy hair.

“You can sleep when we get inside, okay?” He told you, earning another incoherent groan.

You perked up, forgetting the situation completely in your dreamless sleep. You forgot for just a moment that your Father was practically hunting you. The whole mess crashes into you yet again, you weren’t tired anymore with the sudden sick feeling in your stomach. In fact, you tensed up— a wave of nausea approaching.

Without responding, you followed Bucky out of the car— hanging onto his arm. You weren’t sure if it was from nerves or the sudden dizzy spell that came over you.

You hoped it wasn’t a panic attack that your body was brewing.

Although you were new to these attacks, having gone most of your life without them— you couldn’t help but be terrified of them. The lack of control you had when one was happening, you were afraid of what would happen if you had a really severe one.

Your grip tightened on his arm and he glanced down at you, taking note of your unfocused wide eyes, face paling with a tinge of green.

He was immediately on edge, hurrying his steps up the cabin estate. It was a secluded wooden house in the middle of nowhere— it looked intimidating from the outside. The fear of being stranded present, but it was a safe house. He had to remind himself.

She was safe here. He told himself.

Steve entered the house first, you and Bucky following after— Steve’s men scoped the area, staying on alert for any danger.

“You guys will be safe here. The kitchen is stocked with food, as well as more food down in the basement.” He informed you two, although the way you were staring blankly ahead— Steve knew he was basically talking to Bucky.

Bucky furrowed his brows at the news that the kitchen was stocked— the basement too?

Steve seemed to read his mind.

“Have known about this place for awhile, just never knew I’d actually be using it. Asked my men to stock the place before we headed out here.” Steve said.

Bucky felt a wave of great appreciation flow through him, Steve was really doing the most and he was lucky to have him as a friend.

“Thanks man, we appreciate it.” He spoke for the both of you— to which you didn’t mind considering your lack of words.

“Just try and lay low— Pierce and Rumlow are going to be finding out that his daughter and her bodyguard are missing very soon— as well as the whole perimeter squad.” Steve told him, making fear bloom in his chest.

Bucky swallowed, knowing this was just the beginning.

“Where are you all going to be staying? You don’t seem to be eager in moving in.” Bucky wondered, noticing the lack of moving in that was happening.

Steve waved him off like it was no big deal.

“Truthfully, we all aren’t built for sleep.” He tried to joke. “We have a small shed just behind the house, that’s where we will be keeping our stuff. Where we will take cover if we need to— but otherwise we got a house to guard.”

Bucky nodded in appreciation again and a part of him wondered if Steve was trying to redeem himself after judging you all too quickly. Despite it being a shitty thing, he didn’t think Steve realized just how forgetting you were. You’d see Steve as a good man any day, even with his rough start.

“And you…” Steve said lastly, glancing down to you before back up to him, “You got a girl to protect.”

Steve reminded him that not only was he here with you willingly, he was also doing his job to protect you. Things were different now though, he was protecting you from the bottom of his heart— not for the man that hired him.

Bucky wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He ended up having to protect you from the person that hired him to you.

Steve left without another word and it left Bucky alone with you. He found you rather quiet, clinging onto him with white knuckles as you continued to space out.

“Hey… (Y/n)…” Bucky got your attention, your eyes focusing on his.

He noticed you still had this sickly green to your usual healthy glow, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Doll, you okay? You look like you’re about ready to fall over.” He pointed out, making sure he worded it correctly.

You nodded slowly and wiped a hand across your clammy forehead, agreeing with him that you weren’t feeling too hot. You weren’t sure if this was anxiety or if you were coming down with something— either way you felt like shit.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling too good. Think I just need to lie down.” You mumbled, leaning into him as you felt yourself sway on the balls of your feet.

Bucky felt your weight press into him. He felt his heart twinge at the way your voice sounded so weak and unsure. He knew you had been through way more than anyone could handle in the last couple of days— but he couldn’t help but be angry for you. You deserved better and he would think that until the day came where you got the perfect life he knew you deserved.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” He told you softly.

You nodded weakly and closed your eyes as another dizzy spell passed through you, making you out all your weight on him. He didn’t hesitate scoop you up into his arms, in the moment worsening the dizzy spell— but after you settled into his arms, the feeling washed away slightly and you melted into his embrace.

“I got you, just close your eyes.” He whispered and you didn’t waste a second and followed his commands.

You were almost lulled to sleep by his strong heartbeat thumping against your cheek, the way his warmth eased the chills you felt.

He had made it to the bedroom, placing you down onto the queen sized bed gently, making sure to pull the blankets back before placing you in.

You didn’t even open your eyes and sent him a weak smile, grabbing onto his wrist before he could move away. Bucky smiled at your tiny hand gripping onto him.

“I’m going to get you some medicine doll, get you a glass of water. Okay?” He told you, his voice ever so soft when speaking to you.

You nodded and let go of his hand, letting it sit on your chest. Your head pulled to the side and your smile started to fade as your exhausted, stressed brain turned off.

Bucky let himself gaze down at you for another moment, getting lost in you. His mind swirled around you constantly and if he wasn’t thinking about you— he wasn’t thinking at all.

He left quietly after he noticed you were out. You needed the rest— considering you’d be up tossing and turning later. His heart hurt for you, all you had to go through recently.

Exiting the room, and shut the door and glanced the the left— noticing Sam standing there.

“Brought some goodies.” He announced and it was then Bucky glanced down at his arms.

He was holding a little bowl of soup and had a glass of water and pills in his other hand. Bucky wipes the annoyed expression off his face and for the first time— appreciated Sam being here. Although he wouldn’t admit that.

“Thanks.” He said quietly, taking the goodies out of his hands.

Sam kept a smirk on his face, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. It was soft and kind.

“You guys are adorable.” Sam said.

Bucky looked at him with an angry squinted expression, so many words on the tip of his tongue but he held himself back.

Sam wanted to laugh at Bucky’s wild expression but waved him off and held back his giggles.

“I overheard you talking to her. No judgement here— I think it’s sweet you actually are nice to someone.” Sam jabbed, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

Of course Sam had to give a compliment while still messing with him— all in one go.

“Okay well, try not to be a creep next time.” Bucky muttered lowly.

“Hey! I was dropping some much needed supplies off— so you’re welcome.” Sam added. turning and walking away, down the stairs to the living space.

Bucky sent one last glare his way until he was out of view. Somewhere deep down in his grumpy soul— he appreciated Sam.

Ew... he hated even thinking the thought.

Shaking his head clear, he headed back inside to you. He was surprised to find you sitting up and leaning back against eh headboard— last he saw you, you were out cold. While he was happy to see your eyes, he hated the way they were so dull. Your whole being looking mentally exhausted— and he wished he could take it all away.

"Hey, you can sleep if you want. I'll stay here with you." He reminded you, thinking that maybe you woke up and panicked that he wasn't there.

You nodded and scooted over, patting the spot next to you.

"Lay with me?" You asked, your voice hoarse and tired.

He softened his gaze, and placed the supplies down and quickly got in bed with you. Slipping off his shoes and jacket before cuddling up next to you.

"Thank you James. I don't know what I'd do without you." You whispered, laying against his chest while he looped his arms around you— holding you close.

"You don't even have to think about that possibility, because I'm never gonna leave you (Y/n)." He whispered back, smoothing your hair down and rubbing your back soothingly.

"I know you won't... but my Fath— Pierce may split us apart." You voiced your fear.

It happened to be Bucky's too, with th way his arms tightened around you protectively. He just couldn't bear that thought for too long or he'd start to panic. He knew it was smart to digest the thought because it was very much possible— which was terrifying.

"He can try." Was the only thing Bucky could come up with.

But it seemed to bring massive comfort to you, as you hugged him tighter, burying your face into his chest and lulling off to sleep without another word. He breathed in your scent, relishing the way your body was fitting perfectly against his. In different circumstances, he'd be at ease— but the anxiety always ate away at him with the threat over your head.

He only assumed the fury that would ignite the second Pierce noticed you were gone. It made him shiver.

Pierce stood in your bedroom, holding up a dainty frame— a picture and you and your Mother inside. His lip snarled and twitched at the sight, the way his heart started to pound— his vision turning red.

Pierce yelled out, throwing the picture frame across the room— the delicate piece shattering against the grooved wall. The pieces scattered amongst the room, the high pitched trickle of wood and glass fading away. The only sound left in the room was his heavy breathing.

The door clicked open and shut, and without turning around— Pierce could tell who it was just by the footsteps.

“Seems we have a runaway on our hands.” Rumlow acknowledged.

Pierce scoffed, struggling his posture and fixing his suit and tie, adjusting his cuffs back to normal after his outburst.

“Ungrateful little bitch thinks she can hide from me— run from me.” He muttered under his breath.

“Seems we’ve got some traitors too. Didn’t know Rogers had it in him to go against you like that.” He pointed out, only making Pierce shake his head in betrayal and anger.

“Should’ve known Rogers would stick by Barnes— two were close before working for me. I knew that and still took a chance.” He voiced his frustration.

Rumlow nodded his head, remembering Bucky all too well— so many memories he loved to look back on. Although he couldn’t say the same about Bucky.

“Overall— I wouldn’t worry sir,” Rumlow started, holding onto Pierce’s shoulder with confidence, “I’m always down for a hunt.”

Pierce and Rumlow smirked at each other before breaking into an evil laugh, both of their sick and twisted minds coming together to bring you hell.

Pierce wondered how long you could stay hidden, and he couldn’t wait for the day he found you. Ending things once and for all.

His dear beloved daughter.

< TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED >

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bombusbombus · 1 year

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It is vitally, vitally important that Clark Kent is boring.

I don't mean 'boring' in an inherently bad way. A desk job is boring. Data analysis is boring. Due process is boring. All of these things are imperative for a functioning society but almost nobody will ever be praised for them.

When my car got stolen a year ago, the guy who took it stole a bunch of other stuff too. I was sitting with a cop in a backroom of the campus police station for almost an hour while he was doing paperwork (to make sure everyone would get their stuff back), and at one point he looked up at me and he said, "sorry about this. It's not all shootouts and car chases like on TV."

And I almost said, "well, due process is sexy" (I didn't, for obvious reasons). But he looked surprised when I told him I thought due process was pretty cool. Like nobody is supposed to think due process is cool. Things are only cool if they're glamorous or flashy.

The guy who stole my car was horribly addicted to meth. The sheriff told me, "you should press charges so we can put him away for as long as possible."

The sheriff was lost in a world of heroes and villains. He was the "hero." The addict was the "villain." But the person who helped people was the guy at a desk, who went back over the mile long paper trail and returned every stolen item to its owner. The important stuff is when some guy in an office writes an algorithm to save endangered whales, or when the third double blind test finally shows sufficient evidence for the efficacy of a new cancer treatment. The goose that actually lays the golden egg almost never cackles.

This is why the 'Glasses' comic is so important, to me. We live in a world which glorifies exciting acts of heroism but not "boring" ones. We live in a world that thinks people like Clark Kent aren't important, when they're often doing the most important work, solving the systemic issues, saving people who aren't lost yet. Sometimes we need firefighters, but in a perfect world, we'd only need safety inspectors.

And sure, Superman is necessary within the story. There are disasters and villainy he can prevent. There are lives he can save. But being Superman is ultimately a terrible sacrifice, and if the heroism wasn't necessary he'd be Clark Kent all day. That's what makes him not a cop: he's not enjoying the car chases and shootouts. He avoids letting things get 'interesting' at all costs. He avoids glory.

The comic Strong Female Protagonist (by Brennan Lee Mulligan and Molly Ostertag, BRING IT BACK) has several fascinating pieces of philosophy on superheroes and society, but my favourite is this:

Kal-el, living solar battery, isn't just someone who contributes to society from the outside or the top. He plugs away at boring, everyday kindnesses just like other humans. (This can make for great contrasts with Lex Luthor, who is the epitome of a light bulb person and could never understand why Superman would want to be a battery.)

Clark Kent is boring. Clark Kent plays things by the book. Clark Kent is sexy in the same way that due process is sexy, and any character who thinks the Clark Kent side is 'less than' the Superman side, is textually a goddamn idiot. "No glory save honour" and he will always have both.

#I can't find that post about how Americans glorify short acts of heroism but not long term ones #god tier trope is when someone likes Clark better than Superman #It's interesting. I was just reading all star superman #and a parallel I noticed was that Lois doesn't like Clark as much as Superman because he's clumsy and weak #because she has that weird lightbulb-centric american attitude going on #whereas Luthor likes Clark MORE than Superman BECAUSE he's clumsy and weak #because Luthor associates 'battery people' with 'being an exploitable resource for ME'#and BOTH of them are WRONG #gnashing my teeth crying on the floor etc etc #superman #clark kent #dc #posting this WITHOUT EDITING ARE YOU READY BOYS #IT IS PAST MY BEDTIME #anyone else out there read sfp #is it ever coming back #they were so close to finishing it #that comic shaped my whole brain

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