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wonderlandmind4 · 5 years

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Delicate Stages Drabbles: 18

Teach Them How to Say Goodbye

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Drabbles following Delicate Stages. Looking into the life of Bucky and Ana.

Warnings: Wow. There’s absolutely no bad language in this one. That’s the first. A little fluff. The beginning.

Words: 3,026

A/N: Hi. So. Here it is….the beginning of the end…game….(Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first)

The moment Ana and Bucky arrive at the palace, is the moment Ana is dragged away by one of the medical scientists. She knows she missed her vitals and energy level check up the other day, mainly due to nausea and the ever growing feeling of energy. Instead, she had snuggled against Bucky’s chest while he gently rubbed circles over her stomach, which lulled her to sleep.

Now, Ana keeps an eye on Bucky as he shoots an encouraging smile over his shoulder before he continues to the landing pad. Nervous trills of energy tingle throughout her veins, though Ana can’t decipher if it’s from the upcoming fight or being away from Bucky for more than two minutes. She chews her lip until her levels are recorded, nearly falling off the table in her hast to meet Bucky.

“Mrs. Barnes,” The Medical Scientist speaks up with concern, making her halt. “Your stress levels are climbing. This is not good for your body, especially in your current predicament. I would like to take an-“

“Later, please?” Ana begs, beginning to walk back. “I just need to be with my husband, is all. I feel fine, I promise.”

The usual kind man looks skeptical, but after a moment of hesitation, he nods. Ana smiles then quickly exits the lab. She barely catches the tail end of Bucky’s quip as he greets Steve with a hug. Steve, with a full-grown bread he didn’t have the last time they saw him. Ana catches the people standing just behind him and she picks up her pace, bypassing the two men and launching herself straight into Natasha’s open arms.

“Nat!” Ana cries, overjoyed with seeing her friend after a year.

“My favorite Barnes!” Natasha greets fondly, squeezing her tight.

She hears Bucky make an indigent noise behind her, before a pair of bigger arms wrap around them both.

“I guess I’m just ignored now? That’s cold, Ana.”

Ana pulls back enough to see Natasha roll her eyes, shoving Sam away from them. Ana turns to give him a proper hug, laughing into his shoulder.

“I could never ignore my favorite wing man,” She promises, tapping her fingers against his folded wings on his back before they break apart.

“It’s pretty easy, actually,” Bucky inputs, sounding much closer to her now. His tone is also fond, though he’d probably never admit that.

“He’s not giving you trouble right?” Sam questions sternly, though his eyes shine with mirth.

“No more than usual,” She winks.

Then she spots Wanda, her arm wrapped around Vision’s waist. Wanda gives her a tiny, exhausted smile as Ana makes her way over to them. She gives them each a hug, double checking if they are both alright, especially after her friend gives her the tightest, a little shaky, embrace. Bruce Banner gives her an awkward wave, making her roll her eyes and wrap her arms around him too. The energy she feels within him leaves her breathless, but she doesn’t ask about it, figuring she’ll know soon enough. Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes is next, shooting Ana a bright smile after a brief hug.

“Everyone doing alright?” She questions, worry settling in her heart. She can feel an underlying emotion of fear, dread. She eyes the advanced orthotic on Rhodes lower body.

He notices, tapping the side. “Tony made it specifically for me. Took some getting used to, but it makes me look badass.”

A bright laugh escapes Ana’s mouth, glad to see that despite his situation, the Colonel is in good spirits. Before the conversations can carry on, they are all being invited inside by T’Challa, him and the guards leading the way.

Ana can read Bucky’s energy before his fingers slip through hers. It feels, nervous. She attempts a reassuring smile towards him, then presses a quick peck to his left shoulder; vibrainum cool under her lips.

Natasha walks past them, pauses, turns and tilts her head. Her ever sharp green eyes scan Ana’s body. “Ana, are you…glowing?”

“It’s her thing now,” Bucky responds with a smirk.

She opens her mouth to answer, but a sharp surge of energy shoots up her spine. She presses her free hand to her chest, nearly doubling over before Bucky holds her firmly by the arms. She’s gasping, trying to control the strange chaos in her chest, reaching out to grip Bucky’s vest to steady herself. He instructs her to count her breaths quietly, pressing his forehead to hers so she can copy his own breathing.

“There you go, sweetheart,” He praises softly, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “Alright?”

Nodding, Ana straightens up, offering the best smile she can to her concerned husband. “Yeah, good. It’s just…stronger.”

Bucky frowns.

“Are you okay, Ana? What was that?” Natasha inquires carefully, curious wrinkle between her brows.

“I’m fine, promise.”

“Maybe you should stay-“ Bucky begins. He’s quickly cut off with a heat look from Ana. “Right. Let’s just go inside then.”

Natasha looks as if she wants to say more, but she moves pass them. Ana cups Bucky’s jaw, scratching his beard lightly before pressing her thumb to the corner of his mouth to raise his lip up. He chuckles, eyes soft as he wraps his fingers around her wrist.

“I just worry about you, Annie,” He breathes into her palm.

“I know. I worry about you too. I am worrying about you now,” She confesses. She brings his face closer to hers, pressing a light kiss to his mouth. “We should be inside. Important things to discuss.”

Bucky kisses the tip of her nose, lacing their fingers together. “Let’s go then.”

A plan of action has been set. Bruce had explained everything he knows and what he saw; a giant purple Titan with an alien army who thinks he is right. Bruce even tells them his hunch of where Thor might be. Shuri is doing something fancy with the Mind Stone embedded in Vision’s forehead, Wanda hovering close by, and Bruce looking on with interest. Steve is still chatting with T’Challa, some of the Dora Milaje including General Okoye and Ayo.

Ana had to step away, retreating to her work space within the lab, Bucky trailing right behind her. She fiddles with the rings on her fingers, barely containing the heavy atmosphere of emotions and nervous energy. It doesn’t add too well with the storm cloud that had been brewing for months with the apparent war for the fate of the Earth. She presses her hands over her stomach and her chest.

With every passing second, what she feels grows worse. Her veins singe like they’re burning, her heartrate is picking up. Before she can panic, a soft sense of comfort washes over her right as Bucky takes her hand. He tangles their fingers together, lifting hers to press a gentle kiss against the scars of her wrist.

Instantly, the tension eases from her shoulders. She watches as Bucky places a kiss to each of her knuckles, then he pulls her closer, softly pressing his lips over her eyebrow. Ana traces the lines of his left arm with the fingers he isn’t holding, grounding herself.

“Breathe, Annie Doll,” Bucky murmurs, lifting her chin with his metal fingers. His eyes are calm as he stares into hers; shifting like they do when he counts the gold speck. His irises the color of the unique rocks that surround the mineral spring; a cool grayish-blue. Almost as if his eyes sense the ominous clouds over them.

Nodding, she does as she’s told, inhaling and exhaling deeply. “Are you feeling alright?” She checks after a good two minutes.

Bucky narrows his eyes suspiciously. “I’m fine, darlin’. Don’t you dare think about changing anyone’s energy. Especially mine.”

He adds a good-natured poke to her nose just to make her scrunch it. She gently tugs his hair, a bit wavy now that it’s dried.

“Promise,” Ana smiles, pressing a fleeting kiss to his jaw.

“Do you just want to stay here until it’s time?” He questions somberly. Ana nods. “Here, sit down.”

“No, you sit,” Ana insists, guiding him over to one of the medical tables instead of her desk. “It’s more comfortable, and you’ll need the rest.”

“So do you,” Bucky grins, tugging her between his legs after he sits.

“I’m not an invalid, honey,” She teases.

“Not at all, just my best wife and best girl, who is-“

Ana gasps abruptly, a sense of chaotic energy pulling at her chest again. Bucky’s hands firmly hold her steady by her hips. The moment passes quickly. Twice within the spa of ten minutes.

“I’m okay,” She reassures once she sees the panic in his eyes.

“If you’re going to feel this the entire time, Ana,” Bucky begins reluctantly, “maybe you should stay in the apartment and-“

“No, absolutely not.”

“Annie-“

“James.” Ana snips, giving him a glare. Bucky’s mouths snaps shut, but the corners pull up just a tad. “You refuse to allow me to fight, even though you know I will be more protected than anyone with the rings. I won’t be on the battlefield, this is as close to you as I can get.”

“I just…I know you’re angry about it, but I can’t just let you go, not with this threat and with your-“

Ana cuts him off by sharply tugging his hair. He pouts.

“Worth a try?” He shrugs, offering her a sheepish grin. “Even with your stubbornness?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Snowflake.”

Suddenly the teasing mood is gone as they continue to hold each other’s gazes. Ana carefully runs her fingers through Bucky’s soft hair, watches as his lashes flutter from her touch. He keeps his hands on her hips, fingers sneaking under her shirt to rub soothing circles over her navel and hipbones.

Neither of them knows how much time passes. A sense of urgency settles over the room, but they ignore it, or try to. Ana can feel the prickle of Bucky’s nerves beginning to break through; can practically hear his thoughts and worry. His fear, and she knows, it isn’t fear for himself. It’s fear of something reaching her in the Lab. All the surrounding voices fade into background noise as Ana inhales slowly.

She hugs Bucky close to her, his forehead pressed to her stomach, just between her ribs. His grip is tight, the only visible sign of anxiety coming from him. Internally, she feels different whirls of emotions with each passing second. Ana is almost sick to her stomach because she doesn’t have a good inkling about this. Between everyone in the room, the darkening threat, and Bucky trying to hold back but failing. She tightens her arm around his shoulders, the hand that was brushing his hair slips to the back of his head.

With a tiny defeated sigh Bucky releases, Ana finally gives in. She slowly morphs his energy around, hoping to at least find an ounce of courage and positivity in herself and convey it to her husband. The thing is, she is on the brink of her own anxiety attack because it just fully hit her.

Bucky is about to go off to fight another war. She knows how long he’s just wanted peace and happiness; after all the shit he has been through. He just wants to manage their little farm and play with the goats, Cat, the children, for the rest of his life, and now. Now it’s shattered. His peaceful, blissful life- their peaceful, blissful life- is shattered.

Bucky’s fingers dig into her hips as he shifts his head to peer up at her. His beautiful blue eyes narrow at her dubiously. She meets his glare, quirking an eyebrow. He straightens up, now level with her chest, snaking his hand from her hip up to her side, until his palm is resting directly over her heart.

“I told you not to do that, Annie,” Bucky murmurs, his breath causing goosebumps along her skin. “You shouldn’t be wasting your own energy.”

“Shhh, let me do this for you,” She whispers, moving her hands to cup his cheeks. “Please.”

He nods in submission, bringing his hands up to catch hers and thumbing over the rings. “Turns these on the second I leave.”

Ana goes to respond, but the same feeling she’s been getting shoots through her chest and up her spine again. It’s stronger this time. As if her body can feel them getting closer. Her stomach rolls, her body tenses, Bucky pulls her tighter to him.

“You can feel them.” Bucky states quietly.

Ana shuts her eyes, and nods.

“Buck,” Steve’s voice breaks their little bubble. “It’s time.”

They both glance over at him, a hint of guilt gleaming in Steve’s eyes. Bucky nods as Ana bites her lip. When they meet each other’s gazes once more, a split moment passes before Ana dips her head down the same time Bucky leans up. Their lips connect firmly, her fingers gripping the roots of his hair. It tastes like a goodbye and she loathes it. It feels final, and despite knowing how dangerous this fight is going to be, she refuses to see it as a farewell.

Abruptly, Bucky slides off the table, standing to his full height, never breaking their kiss. Ana just follows his lips, her hands dropping to hug around his shoulders. He presses his thumbs into the sides of her stomach as his hands pull her even closer. A soft, gentle tongue swipes across her bottom lip, opening her mouth slightly to taste him, before they break apart.

“Is this what going off to war feels like?” Ana mutters shakily against his lips. Her heart clenches.

She hears Bucky’s breath stutters in his chest. His hand comes up to cup her jaw. “This feels worse.” There’s a short pause. “Real?”

Ana huffs. “Yes. You are. Unfortunately, this situation is too.”

“I just feel you, Annie.”

The tenderness of Bucky’s voice makes tears sting in her eyes. She swallows the thickening lump forming in her throat. She squeezes his shoulders, hoping he can carry the weight of her fingers with him.

“Always feel you,” Ana murmurs back.

“Guys, I’m so sorry, but we gotta get moving,” A reluctant Steve urges.

“One more minute,” Bucky replies, keeping his eyes locked on Ana’s.

She sees them shift back and forth, and she know he’s counting the dots again. Ana moves her hands, holding his face between them.

“You be careful, Snowflake,” She commands lowly. “I mean, it. Run if you need to. I’m safe here, don’t get distracted,” She kisses him briefly. “You come back to me. Got it?”

“I swear to you,” Bucky tells her with such conviction, she has no doubt. “I love you.”

Ana blinks, her vision beginning to blur with tears. “I love you, Bucky.”

They share another tender kiss, then Bucky steps away from her; his eyes look like it pains him to do so. His fingers trail down her jaw, her neck, over her pounding heart, down her stomach and hip. He takes her hand, squeezes three times, and then he’s turning, walking towards the landing dock.

Ana turns her back, not being able to watch him go; because she can’t. She’s ready to help Shuri with Vision in any way she can, but Steve is standing in her way. She opens her mouth to say something, but the gentle yet amused look in his eye halts her. She frowns, until he nods his head up.

Before she can fully turn, strong arms wrap around her, and a searing kiss is pressed firmly against her mouth. Bucky dips her back, fully supporting her weight in his strong arms. Ana can’t help but smile at his dramatics, though it makes her heart flutter and her stomach curl with heat. She grips his shoulders, fingers digging into flesh and metal and cloth.

“You’re ridiculous,” She chuckles against his mouth.

Bucky hums, slowly straightening them again. “For you, doll face. Always for you.”

Then he’s leaving again, but he’s throwing a wink over his shoulder. Ana smiles brightly until he turns his face forward, then her smile drops, as does her heart. She really doesn’t have a good feeling, and with each passing minute, the energy surrounding them grows worse.

She feels a firm, comforting hand squeezing her shoulder. It’s a brief gesture, a silent goodbye as Steve moves to walk past her. Suddenly, she jerks her hand out, grabbing his hand and halting his steps. Her eyes are still on Bucky’s retreating back.

“Steve,” Ana whispers, trying to tamper the quiver in her voice. Her eyes slide over to his stoic face. “Bring my husband back to me.”

Steve faces her, gripping her hand tight. “I swear to you, I will.”

Then he pulls her into a hug, and she hasn’t had someone who has felt like a brother in so long, but Steve has become just that. Her brother. And it’s not just her husband that’s walking off to fight against these aliens, to save the world. It’s her entire family.

It’s Steve who had became her rock for ten, long lonely and heartbreaking months. It’s Sam and Natasha. It’s Bruce who she hasn’t seen in nearly two years. It’s T’Challa and Okoye and M’Baku, people who have accepted her and Bucky into their humble home. It’s Wanda, who was forced to grow up so fast, and is now still fighting to protect the one she loves.

It’s Vision willingness to sacrifice himself if the time comes. It’s Shuri who is doing everything in her power to help him. It’s Tony, who she hasn’t heard from, but she knows. Part of the feeling she has, is because he’s out there putting his life on the line.

They all are.

“Stay safe, Steve,” Ana tells him against the patch with the missing star on his suit.

“You too,” He responds lowly.

Steve releases her then, sharing one last look before he follows after Bucky.

Ana inhales deeply, pressing her hand to chest as if she can feel Bucky’s heartbeat within her. Then, she turns to assist Shuri, ignoring the prickling of energy warning her.

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Drabbles: Seventeen Drabbles: Nineteen

Tags: @thecreatiivecorner @kat-lives @stressedasalways @watchoutforfrostbite @justreadingfics @keldachick @fics-i-read

A/N: I am possibly taking a short hiatus for the rest of march. I suddenly lost a co-worker, someone I became quick friends with. My mom is have a major surgery in two weeks as well. So, March will be a tough time. Please be patient with me as I update these Drabbles and my other fics. Thank you guys for being amazing and reading my stuff <3 <3 <3

#bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #delicate stages drabbles #bucky and ana

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discloseddesire · 7 years

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You, were the definition of a winters morning, a summers day, a spring afternoon and an autumn evening all rolled into one. You were rain beating against a bedroom window and unsteady heartbeats wrapped in hoodies. You were the heat we felt when we argued and the fire from the bush that ended with me on top of you for more than one occasion. You were allergies in the best way from hay fever that plagued me for a week straight, runny nose and all. You were evenings before I had to be picked up by my dad and the warm hugs and the offers to stay for dinner ever so occasionally.

It's like all the seasons hit me at once the moment we stopped.

I felt the cold. The bitterness of the air in my bedroom because I left the window open while I slept with the covers still placed perfectly on my bed. I felt the rain on my cheeks and the wind was almost wishing me to whirl away, like thistle does when you make a wish and blow. like a birthday candle.

I felt the burn of the shame on my face as I told my mother and father what had happened. I felt the heat rise up in my palms and the searing hot pain in my throat that still has yet to leave, like third degree burns on my already singed heart. I felt the fire that was once in my belly reduced to nothing but coal.

I felt the allergies. They were red noses and red eyes and stepping on pretty flowers on purpose as I walked around the neighbourhood, crying behind my sunglasses and my reese's peanut butter cup that was way too sweet for my liking. I felt the spring sun on my skin and I badly wanted to turn into a flower and wilt away on the side of the path. like a pathetic dandelion that could only live for so long.

I felt the autumn today. It's technically Spring but today was a mix of Winter and Autumn rolled into one. Car rides are a peculiar thing when the wind blows the tiny car down the street like it's running away from all its problems, we were heading north after all. I wished for the leaves to crunch under my sneakers, but instead I got one stuck to my foot that wouldn't let go, and a leaf blew in from the partly open window on to my shoulder like a pity clap on the back.

Nobody knows what to say to me anymore. I wake up from a sleep that I didn't even endure to my mother opening my door (I sleep with it closed now.) and asking me how I'm doing, and whether I want a cup of tea or not. I kind of just look at her from the right side of my bed, my entire body pressed against the wall while the wind shook my window, rain hitting the roller shutter. She pots to get me a cup of tea and I leave it sitting there for several minutes, I don't even check my phone. Nobody's messaged me. Nobody would.

My brother had his first day of high school without me today and he told my mother that it made him feel like an only child. I wish I had've left a legacy with the school. It feels wrong to send him through the gates without joining him, humming the last song on the radio and him telling me to shut up and that I'm embarrassing enough.

My dad tells me the cold hard truth in between car trips that last ten minutes while I sob in the passenger seat holding a cup tray full of sprite, coke and fanta. My dad doesn't tell me that it's going to be okay anymore, he doesn't even give me a pat on the back. He tells me that I'm too good for everybody and that nobody is good enough for me except myself. I don't entirely believe him, he's stoned after all.

We took my nan to a podiatrist today and my mother took me in to look at the orthotic flip flops. I immediately picked the teal ones, and when I looked up the lady looked me into my eyes and just did a sympathy smile. Like I don't need any more sympathy when I'm walking around like an old woman at the age of 17 with greasy hair and a tshirt that I keep repeatedly wearing because I never wore it to your house. Maybe it's because my beanie says 'SLACKER' in old writing and that the beanie is bright red but I'm willing to take it into consideration that she did pity me. I pity myself.

My nan is a woman of few words. Mainly because she's short of hearing, can barely see and is rather forgetful but she is the strongest woman I know on the planet. Fuck Beyoncé and Malala Yousafai as role models, my nan is what is keeping me strong. She's been alive since the early 40's and she finally this year has learnt how to use touch screen on an Ipad. I sat in the back of her car today on a crocheted fremantle dockers blanket she had made as cushioning for her car. She likes football. I sat in the backseat and barely said a word as I read my book about angels and demons and what I described to be a love square. My nan pipes up and asked me if I'd kicked anybody in the face yet. My mother nearly lost control of the car. I told her no, and she seemed disappointed. Like I was a main character in Kill Bill and that it was my task to destroy everybody who had ever done me wrong in my entire life but that, would be a pathetically long list. When we returned to drop her home she asked me if I would ever sit on her piano stool again and try to play her a song on her completely out of tune piano. She knows that she has boxes upon boxes stacked around the piano and that a South African family with a young toddler live next door and would probably prefer not to hear a faulty old piano. I said that if she ever moves the piano out of her house, that I will play the best song that I can think of for her. She wants me to play Elvis.

My mother has finally agreed with me that I do in fact need urgent medical attention to my ankle. Posterior tibial tendinitis with all of the severe symptoms being ticked off the list means surgery. I've never had surgery before. I'm actually quite horrified of the entire idea of it. What if I wake up from the anaesthesia? What if i can feel them removing parts of my body and scraping away unwanted tissue? It terrifies me. So a trip to the doctors is necessary before I cannot walk anymore. It's already caused the muscle and definition in my calf to disintegrate. It doesn't look right in the mirror, it's too straight. Like my entire leg is collapsing into my ankle, and my ankle is quicksand or something.

I haven't got what I'm wearing for the valedictory ceremony downpacked just yet. I'm finally off school but yet I still feel ridiculously busy even though I'm doing absolutely nothing. Absolutely nothing consists of minimal showering and bed sheets that are starting to look a little gross from the amount of times I have accidentally spilt food on them. It's me complaining about the internet quality and how all I want to do is watch something or listen to something but I can't so I sit and play Subway Surfer and CandyCrush until the internet speed recovers and I no longer feel reduced to my bedsheets. I think there's a mould of me in my bed, shaped in the curve of my spine by now. I wish there was a mould the shape of you in my bed instead of my heart. Maybe i'd feel less empty.

Empty doesn't necessarily mean sad. I feel dulled. I feel like somebody's dimmed the lights on my personality and then jammed it on the lowest power setting until further notice. Maybe I should place a sticker on my shirt or forehead that says "I'm having a rough time and I'm not who I used to be, sorry". I'm only reading my pathetic romantic fantasy novels out of boredom, not out of curiosity for the actual storyline. Writing this is hard, writing used to feel like nothing. Remember when I used to write to you? Late at night? You'd open them in the morning and I'd feel like a parent who'd just given their child a piece of candy before breakfast. A little worried but still happy. There's just so much that I could be doing with my life but I'm not flinching at jumpscares that I would normally flinch at, not laughing at jokes that need to be laughed at, and not having any consideration for anything anymore, not even myself or others.

That's one of my faults, after all. No consideration for others, absolutely none I say to myself as I scroll through all the times that I did have significant consideration and care for other people. I'm too sad, I think. Now. I'm like a fuckin' tap most of the time. I think I'm desensitised right now or something because I'm still not crying even though I wished to. I wish that crying would plant flowers in the gaps of where you left, but salt causes droughts for flowers, and waiting for a quick fix is like waiting in the middle of Africa for it to snow. It would be the equivalent of me asking you to come back again, pointless and just plain fucking sad. Good on you Maddy. You're crying.

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