letmereadfanfictionsinpeace - Tumblr blog

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 3 days

Text

What if I am too much?

Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“Oh, you’re alone?”

You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.

“Uh, yes. Hello!”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!

“No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.

“Where did we meet?”

“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.

It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.

“Clinging?” You ask confused.

“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”

You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”

“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”

You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.

“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”

“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”

A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.

“Thank you.”

She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”

You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…

You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!

The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.

You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.

You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.

Until Sunday afternoon.

You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.

What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.

“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”

“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.

But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.

“Bucky!”

He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”

“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.

“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.

“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”

“Bubba, please...”

“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.

“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”

“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.

“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”

Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”

“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”

“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”

“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”

You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.

“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”

“What? Where did this come from?”

You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”

You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.

“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.

“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.

“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”

“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”

Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”

“Punish me?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”

You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”

“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.

“You do not!”

“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.

“Fuck you, tease!”

“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.

“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”

“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”

“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.

“F-fuck!”

“Count.”

You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”

“Nope, we start over.”

“O-one.”

“Good girl!”

The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.

“Please, daddy, use this one!”

Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.

“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”

“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”

Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”

“Let it hurt!”

You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.

He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.

“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”

“I can fucking hurt you.”

“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”

He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.

“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”

“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”

Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”

“I am sorry,” you whisper.

“For what exactly?”

You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”

“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”

You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”

“I was just stupid…”

“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”

“I noticed,” you laugh.

“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”

You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”

You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.

“Hey, Buck-”

“Who do you think you are?”

Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.

“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”

“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”

“You did what? What the hell?”

Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”

Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.

“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”

Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.

“I’m... sorry.”

Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”

Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.

As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”

Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”

You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”

6K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 3 days

Text

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

8K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 4 days

Text

Six Days

Summary: You make the effort to avoid Bucky during a mission after he upsets you in an argument, but things quickly take a turn for the worse.

Pairing: bucky x avenger!reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight mentions of torture/hydra experimentation, blood, canon level violence, hurt!reader, sad!bucky

a/n: welcome to my first (real) post! i haven’t written in a long time so my apologies if this is a bit rusty. this was inspired by an excerpt on a post i saw and decided to turn it into a prompt:

“He held her face in his hands.

‘Do you think I care about anything but you?’”

You were on edge.

This was the first mission in a long time where you hadn’t spent the night before with Bucky, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, and waking up with another before heading off. Your regular routine almost happened. It would have happened if it hadn’t been for the argument that happened just about five minutes before you were ready for bed, an argument you deemed unnecessary and frustrating the second you stormed out of Bucky’s room and back into the one you barely spent any time in anymore.

Not having that routine definitely threw you off your game. After dealing with a restless night and a series of tosses and turns, you decided to just stay up until you had to leave.

Biggest mistake you could have ever made, you thought.

You packed everything you needed and, first thing in the morning, walked straight into the kitchen to fill up a thermos with a lot more coffee than you’d ever drink on a normal day before heading off to the quinjet launchpad without a word. Everyone else eyed you as you walked out; your usual, greeting nature was replaced by a silent one, a sight no one had seen since you first joined the Avengers. Once you exited, everyone’s eyes quickly turned to Bucky who had walked in just as silent. Though it was less rare for Bucky to avoid conversation, the two of you being separate was the clear elephant in the room.

Bucky looked up to meet everyone’s gazes on him, his brows furrowing immediately in annoyance.

“What’s the problem?”

“Something going on between you and Y/n?” Sam asked without hesitation. He beared witness to the entirety of your relationship with Bucky, especially since he was often assigned to missions with the both of you. If anyone could tell something was off, it’d be him.

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky replied monotonously before also heading out to the launchpad, everyone else straggling out shortly after.

You were already sitting in your normal seat inside of the quinjet, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone to distract yourself from the eyes that would eventually fall on you as you heard everyone else approaching.

Though you were still angry, Bucky was not. In fact, he was more angry with himself than he was with you. He didn’t even think he was upset with you at all, but he was convinced you thought otherwise.

Finishing a shower after an intense sparring session had never felt better to you.

You had been with the Avengers for about two years now, picking up on more useful ways to use your fighting abilities rather than always being so destructive. Old members of Hydra, who decided they wanted to somehow reinstate and resolidify the organization, had taken you–along with more people than you could count on both of your hands–to be experimented on with a serum similar to the ones used on Bucky and Steve. After managing to escape, you had definitely lost a piece of yourself. It took a while to warm up to the thought of fighting alongside such honorable people, but after two years, you had found your home.

The first year and a half was strictly training and shadowing anyone who had gone on a mission. You were eager to prove yourself as being part of the team, and in the last six months, Steve and Tony had agreed to allow you to not just shadow missions, but be part of them. You had just finished mission 26 as being “part of the team” two days ago, and Steve had stopped you before your workout with Natasha to let you know that he thinks you might be able to do your first solo mission.

That news definitely kicked your motivation into overdrive during sparring. Natasha’s never been one to go easy on you, per your own request, and was riding on a 10-0 streak against you.

That streak got broken fairly quicker than she had expected.

Upon finishing your workout, you were most excited to tell Bucky the news. He had been there the whole ride to see just how hard you’ve worked to get to where you are today, especially sharing the experience of being under Hydra and struggling to use your abilities for the right reasons.

But for some reason, things just didn’t go as you expected.

And it hurt. Really hurt.

Bucky stepped on the jet and gave you a quick glance. Everyone else had taken their usual seat, meaning the only one available was the one he always took right next to yours. He sighed deeply to himself before sitting down, seeing you immediately cross your arms across your chest from his peripheral vision.

This was definitely going to be a long trip.

You didn’t say a word to him the entire ride. Not even so much as a shoulder or thigh touch. You kept your stoic nature for all of the ten hours you were sat next to him.

Bucky was losing his patience, and the only person he blamed was himself. This might have been the first day in the year and some months that you’ve been together that you hadn’t said a single word to him, and it was eating him alive.

It was most definitely eating you alive too, but you couldn’t get the argument you two had out of your head.

Bucky was starting to pack his things when you had walked into his room, his attention quickly diverting to the door and onto you, shooting you a soft smile.

“You’re back already?” He asked, knowing you always took a hefty moment to yourself to relax after sparring with Natasha.

“You are now looking at the woman with a singular victory against Agent Natasha Romanoff,” you said confidently with a playful victory bow, making Bucky chuckle as he stood up and made his way over to you.

Standing up straight to look up at him, Bucky cupped your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. “I’m so very proud of you, baby,” he said with his lips grazing yours that had just pulled into a small smile.

“I also might have really good news,” you said in an eager tone, which Bucky noticed and loved immediately.

“What’s the good news?” He asked right away as he wrapped his arms around your waist, wanting to hear your excitement. After seeing you have so many losses, with yourself and others, he knew you took every win very seriously. You reminded him of himself when he first joined the Avengers as well, and knew just how difficult it was to adjust and get even just a glimpse of triumph.

“Steve pulled me aside today and said he thinks I might be ready for solo missions,” you responded as you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck. “He saw how well I did during the last mission and wants to see how I do alone. He just wants Tony to agree first.”

Bucky’s face dropped slightly. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked rather than answering his question, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

Of course you thought you were ready. You had prepared long enough for this and knew you could take on the challenge. You also thought that Bucky of all people would be able to recognize that and agree.

“You’ve only been on 26 missions, honey,” he contested. “It took me a lot longer than that before I was even able to handle a mission with just Sam.”

“So you think that I can’t go on a mission by myself because it took you longer to adjust than it took for me?” you asked incredulously as you pulled out of Bucky’s grasp and took a few steps back.

Bucky ran his hands over his face in frustration. He knew just how stubborn you were; he had seen it mission after mission and debrief after debrief. You were never one to stand down from defending yourself and your decisions. However, you had never been so persistent with him over anything beyond a playful dispute between the both of you.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/n, so can we table this conversation and go to bed?” he bargained with you softly.

You scoffed. “You just patronized me by implying that I’m incapable of handling a mission on my own and you want me to ‘table the conversation’?”

Given your tenacious anger, you knew it’d be best to not say anything at all until you felt a lot calmer about the situation. You had surely pondered if you were just overreacting, but Bucky’s words still hurt you.

He was never one to patronize you or make you feel like you couldn’t do something. In fact, it had always been the opposite. To hear that he felt you were incapable of taking on something you felt you were ready for had stung you harder than any other accusation ever thrown at you. He was the man you loved, the one person on the team who you trusted the most, and he thought you were unprepared.

So you avoided him. The jet landed and you gathered your things and walked right past him. You got lucky that Clint couldn’t come on the mission anymore and you could take his room so you wouldn’t be stuck with Bucky for the entire week.

Bucky had felt like he was stabbing himself in the chest. He couldn’t sleep the entire night. This seemed to be a mission of firsts for the both of you, including the first time you were both on a mission and slept in different rooms since you’ve been together.

The next morning, Bucky felt he made it worse. He wandered over to your room before it was time to meet everyone else, knocking on the door loud enough for you to hear it but not make himself obvious in the hallway.

You opened the door, looking right at him though Bucky felt like you were looking through him.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded softly. “I know this isn’t the best timing—”

“Then maybe we should wait until we get back, don’t you think?” you interrupted, your voice a bit raspy from the lack of communication with anyone.

“I can’t think straight on a mission knowing that you’re upset with me, baby,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. You knew he didn’t want to upset you, but you also didn’t want to direct your anger towards him. It was the one thing you had both promised to each other. “Please?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Bucky,” you replied sternly, your use of his name feeling like a knife through his back. “Can we just do this after?”

He nodded, not wanting to prod you any further than your limit. He whispered a soft “okay” before walking back to his room.

That was the last you spoke to each other before everything happened.

Your mission started off smoothly. You were paired up with Steve, who wanted to monitor you a bit closer while on a mission to further confirm his confidence in you. He also didn’t want to pair you with Bucky when you had tension with each other, wanting the mission to go successfully and without distractions.

You and Steve would take the fifth and sixth floor of the building to locate the files you needed to extract. Natasha would take the third and fourth floor, Bucky and Sam the first and second. Tony would be eyeing the outside perimeter for extra threats and also spotting Natasha a helpful eye, though everyone knew she could handle herself well.

After fighting off a few straggling guards, you found the file you needed. The only problem was the faint beep, beep, beep you heard somewhere in your vicinity. Steve was keeping watch outside, fighting off the backup that was eventually called when they realized you were here. You couldn’t locate where the sound was coming from, but you knew it wasn’t a good one.

“Hey, Steve, you busy?” you said, the hint of fear in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, hearing your tone. You could hear his shield bouncing off the walls as he responded.

“I’m hearing a beeping noise from in here and I can’t find it at all,” you said as you kept tearing the room apart carefully, not trying to accidentally trigger anything.

“What do you think it is, Agent?” he asked, and you knew he was trying to turn this into some sort of test like your life wasn’t probably at risk.

“The only possibility is an explosive of some sort,” you responded, trying to hide the irritation in your voice from still being monitored on a mission like a child. “I can’t really make out where it’s coming from and it’s nowhere that I’ve searched in the entire room, so it’s probably hidden somewhere.” The beeping then started at a quicker pace, only making your nerves go into overdrive.

“I’ll finish up out here and then help y—”

Boom.

“Rogers? Y/l/n?” Tony spoke anxiously into comms.

“What the hell was that, Tony?” Bucky asked immediately, not liking the tone in his voice while he said both yours and Steve’s names.

“Explosion on floor five. Rogers and Y/l/n aren’t responding.”

“Y/n? Steve?” Sam tried to reach out. Nothing.

“All I’m getting is static, guys,” Natasha chimed in. “I’m headed up.”

Bucky jolted into the staircase, running faster than he could even process. He eventually caught up with Natasha, Tony and Sam both flying in from either side of the building to the fifth floor. The entire floor was filled with smoke, though the hallway was a bit clearer than the room you had been in alone.

Natasha caught a glimpse of Steve, who was thankfully conscious, as he tried to lift himself up with a a cough to expel the smoke from his lungs. Tony helped him up and Steve immediately caught Bucky’s eyes, filled with anxiety he hadn’t seen in him in a while. He then looked at the door and Bucky understood that you were in there.

He knocked the door in with no hesitation, though something was blocking his entry. Steve and Tony made their way over to help him push the door, moving the cabinet that had been flung across the room with the impact of the explosion. Bucky slipped through the door, blue eyes scattering across the room until he saw your hand sticking out from behind some debris. Using his metal arm to lift up the equipment that had fallen on top of you, he moved it over to the side before kneeling in front of you. He noticed the large piece of shrapnel sticking into your abdomen, a fairly large blood stain tainting your suit and your breaths extremely shallow.

Your eyes were half open as they landed on him, though your body desperately wanted to fall out of consciousness.

“Hey, honey, I’m here,” he said as your eyes glossed over.

You felt too weak to talk, it hurt just to breathe with the impeding metal in your stomach. The one moment you wanted to say something to him and you couldn’t.

“I’m here, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here,” he said as his eyes stayed firmly on you, his ears tuning out Steve directing Sam, Tony, and Natasha to prepare for an emergency evac back home. “You’re gonna be okay, everything’s gonna be okay.”

Bucky cupped your face lightly, running his thumbs across your cheeks carefully over a few cuts. His face and tears streaming down his cheeks was the last thing you remembered seeing before the darkness reeled you in.

It had been six days.

Six days since you all successfully evacuated the mission. Six days since they removed the metal from your stomach safely. Six days since they found out the extent of your other injuries from the blow. Six days since you had been unconscious. Six days that Bucky hadn’t left your side for a second.

He had already regretted everything he said to you the night before your mission, but now he felt like he had made the biggest mistake of his life by even upsetting you. Bucky knew you probably wanted to cool down, memorizing all of your coping mechanisms and the way you communicated your feelings. But something in his head told him to talk to you sooner, and he only wished you had let him before everything else fell apart.

He hadn’t slept in the six days you’d been unconscious. You had suffered such a serious head trauma that the doctors in the medical wing of the compound were surprised your scans came back clean. On top of the fractured ribs, the wound in your stomach, and the broken leg, everyone had already known you were a trooper.

By the sixth day, Bucky’s eyes were finally starting to get tired.

He fought sleep off as hard as he could, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for a second. Sam had come in several times throughout the week to bring him food to eat, though he could barely finish any of it. Steve had urged him to go shower every day, promising to watch you and alert him if any changes had happened, pleading with him until he finally agreed. Bucky would rush to shower and immediately ran back as he had finished and gotten dressed. Steve would just give him a pat on the shoulder and a longing look, knowing he couldn’t push any more out of his best friend who was watching intently over the love of his life.

Bucky laid his head on the small space on the side of the bed next to you, his thumb running soothing motions back and forth on your hand as his solemn, blue eyes watched you take small breaths in and out with your eyes sealed shut. His eyes then pulled him into a slumber, one he didn’t even remember falling into.

After a few hours, he felt you shuffle a bit on the bed, shooting his eyes open and seeing you rub your eyes with your free hand, his hand still intertwined in your other one.

“Y/n?” he spoke softly, your eyes redirecting to his face and a small smile creeping on yours.

“Hi,” you said groggily. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

Bucky sat up and shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just glad you’re awake,” he reassured as he let go of your hand and moved his to rest on your cheek. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you joked in a tired voice. “How long have I been out?”

Bucky sighed, though he was glad you were feeling well enough to be playful. “Six days,” he answered. “You had a lot of injuries.”

You nodded slightly. “What about the mission?”

“Natasha and Tony took care of it,” he informed you. “They stayed behind while we evacuated to finish and found a copy of the file. Mission successful.”

You nodded once again, biting down on your bottom lip as you knew there was still unresolved tension between you and Bucky. He noticed it too, but he didn’t think it was the right time to talk about it. Not right after you woke up.

A few days later, you had been discharged from the medical wing and had gone back to your room. You had told Bucky you wanted to go back to his, but he had insisted it’d be better for you to rest in yours.

He stayed with you the first few days you were in recovery, though he didn’t sleep next to you. It hurt a bit, but you had at least felt comfort in knowing he was in the room with you.

One morning, you had woken up and saw Bucky sleeping peacefully on the couch chair in the corner of your room, knowing he had finally gotten rest after a few days. You stayed watching him and he met your eyes immediately when you woke up.

“Hey,” he said in the raspy morning voice you knew all too well. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you said as you sat up a bit in bed, to which Bucky moved to your side to help you do.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, Y/n,” he warned in a light tone. “You’re still recovering and I don’t want you to prolong y—”

“Buck, I’m okay, I promise,” you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes. His normal, cerulean eyes were a bit more clouded. They looked more gray in the dim lighting of your room, but you could also make out the sting of sadness in them.

The longer he looked in your eyes, the more tears formed in his. “I could have lost you,” he said with a crack in his voice. “I almost lost you without making things right with you. I’m never gonna forgive myself for that.”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, Bucky—”

“No,” he cut you off this time. “I can’t wait any longer, Y/n. It’s eating me alive and I want to make things right with you. I need to make things right with you. Everything that went wrong on that mission only made everything worse. You could have died while being on bad terms with me and I’m never, never, going to let that happen again. Do you understand me?”

You nodded slightly, tears quickly glossing your eyes as well while a tear slid past Bucky’s. He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks with his thumbs as you started to play with your fingers in your lap.

“Do you think that I care about anything in this world but you?” he said, a noticeable shake in his voice while he didn’t break eye contact with you. “There is nothing that compares to you in my world. Nothing. When I heard that explosion and Tony say your name, it felt like my heart dropped. I don’t want to experience that again. Especially if I’m not with you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “So you mean—”

“I said what I said because I’m too scared not to be with you, Y/n. It’s wrong and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I felt you weren’t ready to be on your own. You’re more than ready and I was clouded by my own fears and patronized you when you didn’t need that. I can’t lose you, I can’t picture what the rest of my life would even look like without you in it. But my fears should never come in the way of your accomplishments that you deserve and earned, honey. Never. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry that it took everything that happened for me to say it to you.”

If the tears weren’t falling from your face before, they most definitely were now. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s torso and sobbed into his chest. He was crying too, but he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed small circles in your back to soothe you the way he always did.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs. “I didn’t want to fight with you, I just—”

“Shh,” Bucky comforted you. “It’s okay, baby, I know. I didn’t want to fight with you either, it’s on me.”

You pulled away slightly to look up at him once your sobs died down, sniffling a bit as he looked down at you with all the love and adoration he’s always had for you.

“Promise me we’ll never fight before a mission again,” you urged softly, and even though your tone was slightly playful, Bucky knew you were also half serious.

“I promise, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead twice. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You nodded as he made his way around the bed and slid next to you, carefully wrapping his arms around you as you both laid down and enjoyed each other’s warmth again.

__________________________________

thank you so much for reading! i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading my first piece!

4K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 4 days

Text

the outbreak

summary: your bruised heart and shattered mind have feelings for Bucky and you had planned to tell him very soon, however, the disastrous outcome of the last mission and a heated argument make you think the best option was to keep quiet.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 8k or so

warnings: implicit reference of suicidal thoughts, some suicidal accusations, maybe like get your shit together kind of stuff, a lot of bad words, angst. there's just no happy endings in this account. mentions to explosions. also, there's a plot in the plot? that kinda got there out of nowhere, but i liked the way it turned out. probably do a second part later.

note: hey! i can't believe I actually managed to get one thing done and ready to be published in one day, i think i got lucky. im still working on the next part of how to break a routine in one year but it's been a rough journey, i don't know how it would end up in the end. still hope you like this and know that feedback is really appreciated! really love reading your comments and opinions 💜

1.5, part 2!

You were static all the way back to the Complex. Your ears were still ringing from the vibrations of the bombs that exploded near you and which, by sheer luck, didn't cause your death. You couldn't look up from your clasped hands and you couldn't shake the chagrin in your chest that hadn't left you since you saw the look on Bucky Barnes' face when you were found in the rubble.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Extraction of information, no more than five hours and you would return to the Complex. But it got complicated when you were ambushed, as if they were already expecting an Avengers team to show up in that building and they were ready for anything. You weren't supposed to face anything that day, otherwise you wouldn't have gone on the mission in the first place.

You knew you were always going to be the team's priority when they went on an extraction mission, whether it was information or people. You weren't the most skilled or the most resourceful, so the team had to keep their eyes on you and the mission objective. That in itself felt like a burden, so you always tried to just do your job and not complicate things for the others.

This time, however, you couldn't keep yourself safe, not even despite the orders given to you by the team and the mission leader: Bucky. You were casually perusing the shelves of a room where you knew the information they were looking for, which was vital to knowing the enemy you were dealing with at the moment, was to be found. You were so close to getting it that electricity surged through your limbs and little shots of adrenaline coursed through your body.

But, at that moment, Bucky's voice reached your hearing.

“Y/N, get out of there right now and meet Wanda on the first floor.”

“Hold on a second. I've almost got it.”

“I told you to get out of there right now. It wasn't a goddamn recommendation.”

“Can't you wait a second, Bucky? This is the key to everything and you know it.”

“I don't give a fuck about those documents, Y/N! Get out of there right now!”

And you should have listened to him. You should have listened to him the first time. But you always had this constant need to prove yourself, to make your time count for others and for them to notice that you were worth something. That you weren't a burden on the team. For a while the line of that goal was blurred, you didn't know if you were trying to convince them or yourself. On that occasion, you decided to make the decision to prove your worth and stay to find out what they had spent weeks focusing their time on.

“Fuck,” you heard Bucky curse. “Wanda, can you come in for-?”

The sound of a large explosion caused horrible interference on the team's communicators.

Sadly, until that moment you understood that maybe you should have listened to the team leader. Still, you held your place for a few more seconds until you found your target. But it was too late by the time the building began to shake.

It had taken the team about twenty-five minutes to find you. They didn't even know how you had survived.

“Bucky, what happened in-?”

“I'll give the mission report to Fury later,” the man cut off Steve Rogers' words, walking past him without giving him a glance, and continued on his way straight to the entrance of the Complex.

Steve turned his gaze until his eyes rested on yours. You felt like you had a lot of words stuck in your throat, a lot of overflowing feelings that you couldn't control. You just looked down again and approached him to hand over the mission objective. For which you risked your life almost without thinking. Then you walked straight back to your little room and didn't leave for the rest of the day.

---

Your friendship with Bucky was great. From the moment you joined the group, he was the person you hit it off with the fastest, surprising almost everyone on the team. Even before you got to know Bucky, even though you didn't consider yourself an outgoing person, you would tell him stories about your day and mundane things you did every day. At first you didn't even know if the man was listening to you, you just knew he was there and never left until you were done talking.

The situation wasn't so bad. You were used to talking to yourself since you started living on your own, a couple of years before you joined the team. Sometimes when Bucky came into the kitchen or appeared in the living room, you were already mumbling to yourself about something.

For a while you never knew why he stayed to listen to you.

And months went by like that. Each time you would show up wherever he was or he would show up wherever you were and you would just tell him something. A story from your childhood, a story from your grandparents' lives, a news item from around the world, an extremely strange and bizarre fun fact.

That little interaction was something you quickly got used to.

That is, until outsiders had to dip their spoon in and stick ideas that didn't belong in your head. Ideas you weren't supposed to have or even consider once. You knew it, but you learned it again the hard way.

“Have you seen Bucky today?” you asked Sam Wilson once when you walked into the kitchen.

“No,” the man quickly replied, finishing his coffee.

You pursed your lips and were already on your way back to look for him elsewhere when Sam's voice reached your ears again.

“You hit it off pretty quick with him, huh? I thought he was a tough nut to crack.”

“Don't talk about him as a thing. And it's really not that complicated to get to know him. You just have to make an effort and not push.”

“Roger that, Captain,” Sam smiled and took a sip of his coffee.

Hearing that lit a light bulb in your head.

“And have you seen Steve?”

Sam shook his head as he lowered his mug to rest it on the kitchen counter. “No. They must be together because I haven't seen them since yesterday. Maybe they went out on a mission?”

You nodded at his words, thoughtfully.

“But he didn't tell me he had to leave today…” you mumbled, but it reached Sam's ears.

“Does he usually tell you what he does in the day, too?”

You turned to look at him, distracted.

“Something like that. He only does that when I ask him to go shopping with me.”

“He goes shopping with you? Really?”

“Sure,” you quickly replied focusing all your attention on his surprised face. “It's a dangerous world for women, you know? I can't take chances.”

“Clint goes shopping once a month. You've never ordered from him?”

“No, I like to walk around the supermarkets and look at every single thing on the shelves. Clint is very fast and boring.”

“Ah, so the only person you feel comfortable with at those times is Bucky.”

You shook your head in a nod, completely unaware of what the man was trying to imply with his words.

“Natasha once accompanied me, but because she flashed the knife hidden on her hip at every man who saw us for more than five seconds, she was banned from more than seven venues and the police were almost called.”

“Mmm,” Sam nodded. “Sounds very much in keeping.”

“So yeah, that's why Bucky is my shopping buddy. Steve is very inquisitive, Tony brags every two minutes about how quick and easy he could do the market from the app on his phone, Wanda gets lost in the movie section and I can hardly ever get her out and you just don't shop because you leave it all to Clint.”

“And Bruce?”

“He leaves a list for Clint or asks FRIDAY to take note of every time he says he needs something so she can forward it to Clint.”

“Wow, who knew the Avengers were such bad shopping buddies.”

“Yeah. Bucky just walks with me, reaches for things that are too high and does his own shopping quietly. Or sometimes we chat. About shopping stuff.”

“That's very domestic of him.”

You let out a short laugh, agreeing with his description. It was something you thought about from time to time.

“Bucky is a very domestic person, actually.”

“You seem to know him well.”

“Maybe so. Only from what I can see of him by his actions.”

“He's not very active with you in talks then.”

“Not very much. But if you can get to know him well, it's easy to tell what he means just by his behaviors.”

Sam gave you a nod, his coffee on the counter long forgotten.

Then, as if his mind hadn't processed what he meant, out of his mouth came the last words you would have wanted to hear in the world.

“You two would make a good couple.”

You snapped out of your head for a moment, almost abruptly. You turned to look at him as if he had a magnet that attracted your gaze and you almost pulled a lung out of your chest from how loudly you snorted at those words. That man had lost his mind.

“What?”

“What?” Sam repeated, his brow furrowing without losing the hint of amusement it caused him to see you so flustered for saying something so mundane. “It's no secret to anyone that you're the person he spends the most time with in the entire Complex. You do a lot of things together, including shopping. Like a couple would. You know what? You already act like a couple even if it's not official.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, but I do have an idea. We all have eyes here, Y/N. It's not hard to notice the look in both of our eyes when-”

“All right, that's enough!” you exclaimed, and Sam just shrugged. “I don't want you ever hinting like that again, is that clear?”

And he didn't do it again. But you should have paid more attention when he spoke in the plural. Even though he was the first, he wasn't the only one to express his opinion freely about your friendly relationship with Bucky when you didn't ask for it. It was as if Sam unleashed a horde of unwanted comments about the normal, domestic things you did with Bucky.

It wasn't long before you began to feel uncomfortable when the two of you were in some room in the Complex with some third party who was intruding.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you once you were in the common room of the Complex.

You remembered turning to look at him in bewilderment as you snapped out of your cloud of thoughts. You saw him sitting next to you, a safe distance away. Like two normal friends. You were telling him a story your mother had told you about your grandmother many years ago when you felt a look on your face. You ignored it at first completely because you were too engrossed in your story and felt you didn't care if anyone else came into the room.

But then you met Clint's eyes. And everything went into a tailspin.

“Yeah. All good,” you shook your head trying to play it down, but you underestimated Bucky's knowledge of you. “Why?”

“You were quiet.”

“For less than ten seconds,” you let out a nervous laugh. In that moment you felt like a pressure cooker, your mind moving anxiously like the lid blowing the air out.

You noticed out of the corner of your eye that Bucky averted his gaze and you turned to look at him to realise that he had focused his attention on the person sitting in one of the far armchairs with a comic book in his hands. He looked so deep in concentration that his presence in the room was barely noticeable.

“Does it bother you that Clint is here?”

“What?” you exclaimed, suddenly a little louder than you should have. “No, of course not, why would it bother me?”

Bucky arched an eyebrow.

“That's what I'm trying to understand.”

His unwavering expression couldn't give you any answer as to what was going through his head. You mentally berated yourself for trying to find out something you didn't want to know, that you shouldn't even be considering.

“Even if it bothered me that Clint was here, why would that be relevant?”

The man next to you raised his eyebrows as if you'd asked the question with the most obvious answer in the world.

“Because you're uncomfortable.”

You frowned.

“Do you care that much that I'm uncomfortable?”

“Yes, because you haven't finished the story. I still don't know what happened to the chicken.”

His words left your mind blank for a few seconds. You didn't know whether to be flattered, because he seemed genuinely interested in what you were telling him, or offended because he seemed to take it only as a method of entertainment. Either way, the important thing was that you had his attention, right?

Oh, no. No, no, no.

You were suddenly annoyed to realise that your thoughts were taking the wrong turn, being fully influenced by the words Sam and the others had let out about your relationship with Bucky. You couldn't allow yourself to drift slowly into a place you didn't want to return to, because you knew well the consequences and side effects. Even though sometimes you felt you were already in that place.

You were fine with the way you were, nothing else mattered. You were fine with the way you were, nothing else mattered. You were fine just with the way you were, nothing else mattered….

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“You know this is the longest conversation we've ever had?”

Impulsively you changed the topic of conversation. And you knew Bucky had noticed by the way his eyes narrowed and he didn't say anything for a few seconds. You stood in silence, a small staring battle, Bucky trying to make you give in, until he let out an exhausted sigh and averted his gaze.

“It's not the longest conversation.”

“Yes, it is. You talked to me more than five times.”

Bucky let out a short disbelieving laugh, his head jerking in rhythm with the sound coming out of his mouth. You watched him carefully for the duration of the gesture, because it wasn't something that happened very often.

“I'm sure we've had longer conversations.”

“The monosyllables you answer me with at the mall don't count.”

Bucky let out a breath and his lips pressed into a thin line. It was your turn to laugh, genuinely amused. His eyes flickered up to meet yours.

“You give yourself a lot more credit than you should,” you told him after a while, when your laughter had subsided and his expression was more serene.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled. “What happened to the chicken?”

Over time, you learned to manage your awkwardness so that Bucky wouldn't suspect your uncomfortable behaviour and avoid questions you didn't want to answer. Sometimes, you thought you were excellent at hiding what your body wanted to show with its language, and other times you felt that Bucky just didn't bring up the subject to avoid making you even more uncomfortable. But surely he wanted to ask.

So that was the routine you usually had. It wasn't strange for anyone to see you walking around the Complex together or going out together, and it wasn't strange for you to see everyone with knowing smiles as you passed each other.

Even though it was difficult, you felt you coped well. Always ignoring that voice in the back of your head that tried to alert you that something had happened in the feeling system. If you just ignored it, then it was nothing.

Everything was still relatively normal.

Until that damned mission where you decided not to listen to him.

It had been a week since the incident and if Bucky had looked at you at least once when you were in the same place, that was a lot to say.

Sam had tried to ask you several times what had happened on the mission and why Bucky didn't even acknowledge your presence when sometimes you were right next to him, but you were never able to answer him. You didn't want to talk about it when every time you remembered the cold look he'd given you the moment Wanda removed the chunk of concrete that had almost fallen on top of you, only being cushioned by the wall you'd stuck to before it all came crashing down. His light eyes had always felt warm, made you feel welcome to him the moment you wanted to enter, but in that instant his eyes were watching you as if he wanted you to disappear from the face of the earth.

You couldn't bear the memory. Not when you were already used to his presence and his silences; to his short laughs and mumbled answers. Not when you were already starting to feel comfortable with the ideas you were getting in your head despite trying to convince yourself otherwise; that maybe Sam and the others weren't so wrong. That maybe… they might be right.

But they were just that. Ideas. Stupid thoughts that were going around in your head to salve your poor heart.

Ever since you came back from the mission, you knew how unlikely it was that everyone else was right. The only thing they saw between the two of you, that they talked about so much, was your own feelings bouncing off all the walls that Bucky had and that he hadn't dropped at any point like you thought he had. It was only the reflection of your adoration for him in his eyes. There was never really anything about him that gave them to understand that he felt the same way you did about him, it was only the extent of your love that covered him too.

But nothing was ever really reciprocated.

And coming to that conclusion wasn't as difficult as you thought it would be.

Being hopeful wasn't your style. Although you were always cheerful and tried to put your best face to the world, you weren't one to fall easily for the words and actions of others. That's why you kept your relationship with Bucky at bay for so long, because you knew it wasn't possible for him to see you with the love you longed to give him. You were always sure. But then, and you didn't really know how you got to that point, you began to think that, if other people could see it so clearly, then suddenly it might be true. Maybe Bucky could return your feelings and then the world wasn't just black and white.

Wrong.

For a moment you allowed yourself to forget and let your defences down for that little flame of hope, even though you knew you shouldn't have, that you hadn't done it in years for something and it didn't have to be any different this time. You did, and it was a mistake.

“So, what do you say?”

You raised your head to look at Wanda's expectant face. Her raised eyebrows and the way she moved her hands in her lap gave you a hint that she was feeling nervous. She was trying to hide it, but you could also see that she was a little afraid. Her light, barely perceptible voice gave you the feeling that she was afraid of unleashing a storm with her conjectures.

“That it's crazy.”

“It's definitely crazy,” the woman in front of you sighed, her eyes drifting from your figure to her surroundings trying to deal with the weight of the revelations she'd had these past few days.

Your body leaned against the armchair behind you, and you lowered your head until you could look at the book lying on your crossed legs. You looked at the letters and frowned as you tried to understand again what it was all about.

“That could also be just a story.”

“I don't think so,” Wanda mused, then raised her head to look at you. “There's a reason these books are here.”

“Yeah, just like there's a reason for us not to be in here.”

“Then why did you follow me?”

Wanda crossed her arms under her chest, an annoyed expression taking over her face.

“I didn't think you were going to show me something like this,” you admitted, taking the book in your hands and running your eyes over the text and figures once more. “I didn't even think it was possible.”

“I told you my dreams were starting to become more accurate.”

You shook your head in a nod, your mind trying to figure out what that could mean for your friend's future. You knew it was possible that Wanda was doing her best not to see the whole horizon of negative possibilities emerging from that situation, but you were also aware of the weight she must be feeling with all those thoughts running through her head coupled with the likelihood of not having an answer. Your head schemed for a possible solution that might not be welcome.

“Why don't you go talk to Strange?”

Wanda twisted her lips, the reaction you expected.

“I get the impression that the first thing he'd do would be to lock me in his magical dungeon.”

You wanted to contradict her, but it was partly true. You knew Strange to be a man who didn't see nuance in black and white. It was only about good and bad, with no in-between. But you suggested it because he was the only person besides Wanda who knew as much about magic and sorcery as she did, even more thanks to the position he held. His methods were questionable, probably, but the range of his knowledge was something greater than either of you could question.

You closed the book and ran your fingers over the material of its cover, so stiff and dirty that you could barely even try to guess what century it was from.

“Even if what this book says is true, we don't have the original book to confirm it. We don't even know if it exists.”

“The Darkhold is real,” Wanda contradicted you almost immediately, and the certainty in her voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“What, you've seen it in dreams too?”

When Wanda averted her eyes from yours, you had to restrain the urge to hit her over the head with the book you were holding.

“Wanda!”

“I'm sorry!”

You saw her quickly get up from the floor and start walking around the place you had taken over in the library you were in. From the outside, it looked like a small room with a few shelves full of books, but the further you went in, the less it seemed like it would have any end to it. It was one of the largest rooms in the Complex. And, courtesy of Wanda, you now knew that it was the only room with another hidden room that almost ninety-five percent of the Complex staff were barred from entering. You were convinced that only the Director, Maria Hill, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange were allowed in there.

Now, how could Wanda concentrate enough energy to find and open the hidden entrance to that place? A complete mystery to you.

“The Darkhold was the first thing I saw before my dreams started getting weird. It was only a couple of weeks ago.”

“After you dreamt about it, you started having the lucid dreams?”

“Yes, it was very strange,” Wanda shook her head and stopped her feet in front of you, her expression thoughtful as if her mind was conjuring up all her dreams at once. “Sometimes I dream things where I'm sure it's me, that if I looked in a mirror I'd be sure it was me. But other times, I feel like my dream is focused on showing me someone else's memories. Like I'm inside someone else's mind… but that person is me.”

The woman looked at you, her face contracted in confusion and exhaustion.

“Why didn't you tell me this before?”

Wanda sat back down on the floor in front of you, her legs crossed and her elbows resting on her knees. You watched her run her hands over her face repeatedly before answering.

“I didn't want to worry you. I didn't want to worry anyone. At first I had thought this was too crazy for anyone to believe me, but when I came here and found that book I started to fear for myself. I didn't want to get locked up if anyone found out.”

“Don't say that. No one's going to lock you up.”

You threw the book with the stiff cover somewhere on the floor and moved from your spot to approach your friend. You didn't hesitate for a second to wrap her in your arms and squeeze her against your body.

You didn't know how you had gone so many days without noticing the tiredness in her eyes and the dark bags under her eyes. You'd been so wrapped up in your own head that you hadn't even been able to notice when something was eating away at your friend's sanity. Being one of those things… mhm, you know….

“Don't worry. You're not going to go crazy and want to rule the universe. That sounds too surreal.”

“I'd like to know if my dreams are fabrications or visions.”

You turned away from the woman, your brows furrowing at the implication of her words.

“You're not going to become what that book says.”

“But what if…?”

“No, Wanda.”

“What if it's tipping me off?”

“And who's doing it?” you inquired as you sat back on your heels, your gaze focused on your friend's obfuscated expression. “The Darkhold? Some silly alternate version of yourself from another universe? Now that's crazy!”

Wanda turned her head away and her shoulders slumped.

“That would mean my dreams are unexplained. They're just dreams.”

“Maybe that's for the best. Even the multiverse theory hasn't been proven enough for us to conjecture beyond our own reality.”

“Still, isn't it strange?”

“Of course it is. It's just too weird. I just meant that it doesn't mean you're destined to become that bizarre alter ego.”

You saw her press her lips into a line, then nod her head slightly. She didn't really look convinced, and neither were you, to be honest. Of everything she had told you, you couldn't understand half of it, and the other half you could barely believe was true. The magic was a few levels above your understanding of reality and altering it all in a few minutes was proving to be a really complicated job.

Still, seeing her anguished face at the possibility of what her dreams and that book implied, you knew you had to say something to try to calm the thoughts in her head. Even if it was something tiny that couldn't even come close to being true. You couldn't let those evil ideas fill her head and make her think she was some kind of villain when it couldn't be further from the truth.

If that was the future, it wasn't the future of the Wanda in front of you, her gaze lost and her eyes full of fear. Someone who worried like that about what might happen, even if she wasn't completely convinced of it, only thinking of the slightest possibility, couldn't have an ounce of evil in her.

“Maybe you're right-”

“What the fuck are you two doing here?”

You cringed as you heard a new voice join in the room when you hadn't even heard the footsteps of anyone approaching. Least of all from the two people who had just appeared down the same path you and Wanda had come down.

“Uhm…”

Your voice came out shaky, not at the prospect of receiving yet another punishment for being in a forbidden place for the level you were at as an agent, you'd already seen that coming, but because standing next to a very angry Tony Stark was Bucky. And he was staring at you so hard you feared he might punch a hole in your soul.

You felt Wanda's gaze on you. You turned to see her slowly, as if making any sudden movements would upset the bundle of fury in front of you. You could almost see the veins in her forehead pop.

With one glance, you knew that Wanda had no idea that the room had any kind of sensor. Even though it would make sense for it to have one, it would be illogical because it's a door hidden with magic. Normal people wouldn't notice it by looking through matter or something.

Nevertheless, it was magic that was what it was all about. Surely Strange would have some magical failsafe, kind of.

“None of you are going to respond?”

“I believe the situation responds on its own,” Wanda answered him, and Tony's dark eyes settled on her in a matter of seconds.

For a moment you thought his face had faltered, that his expression had slumped, but just as quickly you noticed, just as quickly it was gone.

Then, his gaze wandered across the floor where you stood with a number of books around you, until it settled on the book you had been reading moments before his arrival. You hadn't realised where it had fallen when you threw it when you got up to hug Wanda, but that must have been your lucky day because it was far enough away to make him think that it had only been taken out, but not opened.

Tony moved quickly to take the book in his hands and then gave you a wary look.

“Did you open this?”

As if we were going to say yes.

“No,” you replied quickly, averting your gaze from the frozen man behind Tony.

“Good.”

You watched him tuck the small, stiff book into his jacket before glancing back at the mess of books on the floor.

“Move along. Strange isn't going to be happy.”

The two men moved sideways, clearing the way for you and Wanda to exit the way you came.

Without a second's hesitation, you both got up and started walking in the direction of the exit.

“How the hell did you know where the entrance was?” Tony questioned Wanda once you were all out of the hidden room, and the aforementioned turned around to watch the door slam shut before disappearing.

"I guess I got lucky."

Tony clicked his tongue, but said nothing more. He turned on his heels to begin his walk towards the library exit followed by Bucky who clearly didn't give you a single word other than judging looks.

Wanda nudged you lightly with her body, the previous topic almost completely forgotten, with a half smile on her face. You didn't know if it was good to drop the subject so spontaneously, but you did know that you didn't want her to continue to have those thoughts running through her head.

“You haven't spoken to Bucky?”

“I'm puzzled that the subject is funny to you.”

“I'm not amused,” Wanda tried to rectify, lowering her voice as she saw that the two men in front of her had stopped at the library exit. “But I don't think he's mad at you.”

“Today is your day of the wildest theories I've ever heard, how can he possibly not be mad at me?”

Wanda sighed and watched the back of the aforementioned, who was apparently talking to Steve Rogers.

“You scared us all that day. But Bucky was… terrified. I knew you were alive, and I told him, but he wouldn't believe me until he could see it with his own eyes. He was too scared at the time. And, to be honest, I think that scare made him realise something he doesn't want to accept now. That's probably why he's staying away from you.”

You watched your friend with narrowed eyes, your body turned in her direction.

“Did you get inside his head?”

“Of course not!”

“Because that's wildly accurate, Wanda. How can you conclude something like that just by looking at someone?”

“I've had a week to do it,” the woman waved her hand in the air, downplaying the matter before resuming her walk when the men up ahead finally moved. “And I happen to be very good at reading people's body language.”

“Yeah, right.”

Wanda grunted at your tone of voice.

“I really didn't get inside his head, Y/N. I swore I wouldn't do it again and I'm keeping my word.”

“Alright, let's say I believe you,” you agreed and turned to look at her just as she rolled her eyes at your words. “That's not reason enough to talk to him.”

“And why not?” Wanda raised her voice, quizzical. “I practically gave you the answer.”

“Knowing doesn't make things any easier, woman.”

Wanda let out a whine so loud and exaggerated that several of the people walking past her frowned at her.

“The real answer is to just talk to him. Do you know how many problems are solved a year just by talking?”

You shook your head in denial. “He's avoiding me-”

“And you seem to be okay with that.”

“I'm not.”

“Then why haven't you done anything to change it yet?”

You knew she was right, but to be honest and to no one's surprise, you didn't want to deal with the confrontation and find out that what you always thought and the reason you kept yourself on edge was true. Even though it clearly was. But to have the chance to hear it come from his mouth directly? You were definitely past having that experience. You no longer doubted that his feelings for you were as non-existent as you first thought and that you should never have listened to people's words, giving yourself false hope. You didn't want to face your own mind and the fact that you got into this heart trouble on your own when you had always been so cautious. Weighing the risk of Bucky pushing so far inside your head that you knew the real darkness was reason enough to be a little content with silence.

Talking to him would solve a percentage of the situation, the professional. You would apologise another thousand times for not listening to him during the mission, you would tell him that you would do everything in your power not to react that way again, and that was it. But the other percentage of the situation would not be resolved; the percentage that involves you more than him. Even if you apologise and he accepts your apology, nothing could assure you that things would go back to the way they were before, that you would go back to being attached to each other as you have been since you met.

And that should be good, because you could finally get away from him and get all those feelings off your chest and out of your mind like you should have done in the first place to avoid the eventuality of him suddenly knowing too much about you, but at the same time you didn't want to end something that could have been so good. Even without getting romantic, your friendship with Bucky was one of the things you cherished the most, and you didn't want to make yourself forget it as if it had never happened.

“What is it that scares you?”

“That I was right all along.”

Wanda gave you her reprimanding look and paused to stare at you with that scowl on her face. You inhaled sharply and stopped in front of her, watching her expectantly.

“I'll take Tony,” she blurted out suddenly, not wiping that expression off her face.

“What?”

“I'm taking him and you better hope that when we meet again you have good news.”

“What are you talking about?”

Without answering, Wanda turned her body and walked in the direction of the three men who had stopped once again to talk. Bucky and Tony had their backs to you, but you could see the typical serious expression disappear from Steve's face to give way to surprise the moment Wanda landed in the middle of him and Tony with a big smile.

The woman shared a few words with the stunned blond, before turning to Tony and sending you a fleeting glance over the man's shoulder.

“Don't you think you're keeping Strange waiting too long?”

“How did you know that he-?”

“I didn't. But you already gave me the answer. We'd better go now.”

Following her order, Wanda curled her arm around the arm of a paralyzed Tony and started walking, waving goodbye to the others.

“Bye, Y/N! Don't stand in the middle of the hallway!”

You cringed as the gaze of the people walking past you landed on you, and gritted your teeth as you saw Steve's gaze on you. Without a bit of disguise, Steve ran his gaze over you and then over Bucky and back again as if he was having a short circuit inside his head.

You weren't too far away to notice Bucky's stiff shoulders, and you guessed he was saying goodbye to Steve when the blond turned his gaze to watch him. Seconds later, the black-haired man started to walk the way Wanda had gone with Tony, but Steve stopped him before he took any more steps away from the tense atmosphere.

“Wait,” you heard Steve's voice and flinched as you watched Bucky look down to see the Captain's hand clutch his left arm, then look up and give him a look that you knew would have chilled you from head to toe, but Steve seemed to ignore it as if it was an everyday occurrence. “Actually, since I've got you two in one place, I need to talk to you.”

You watched the blond shake his head pointing to the door next to him then walk in his direction.

You followed them from a distance and closed the door behind you. It was one of the small common rooms around the Complex. You still remembered how surprised you had been when you first arrived to see how many clear work areas they had in that place. Of course, to house and protect the peace of mind of hundreds of workers.

Bucky slumped into one of the green armchairs carelessly and Steve stood on his feet in the middle of the room.

“I spoke to Fury this morning,” the blond began, alternating his gaze between the two of you. “You'll be back on a mission next week.”

You raised your head expecting to see that Steve was referring to Bucky, but no. He was staring at you from his position.

“So soon?”

“What do I have to do with this?”

You and Bucky spoke at the same time, and you couldn't hide the pain that settled in your chest hard as you heard those were the first words you'd heard from him in seven days.

Steve pursed his lips and alternated his gaze again before speaking again.

“Fury agreed to let you go on the mission after a recon team inspects the site in case of possible attacks.”

You nodded slightly. That was a little ugly to hear, too. Just a little.

“You'll go with Clint and Bucky on the mission.”

You were expecting those words to come out of his mouth because there was no other reason to have locked them both in here. What you didn't expect (though you should have) was to see Bucky roll his eyes and drop his head on the back of the couch in the most horrible gesture of disgust and ennui you'd ever seen from him since you'd known him. During this week of being a zero to the left for the aforementioned, you'd noticed that Bucky was very expressive when he wanted someone to realise that they were strongly hated by him.

It wasn't something you wanted to know, really.

“Clint will be the backup so he'll stay inside the Quinjet flying over the structure in case of a possible attack. You and Y/N are going to enter the building and perform the extraction of one person.”

One person? That was new. You could hardly remember the last time you'd had such a mission.

“Why did he pick me?”

“I have no idea, Buck. He just gave me the order to tell you.”

“Who's the person we're supposed to extract?”

“That I don't know,” Steve replied. “Fury was very cautious with the information. Any minute now the report should reach you.”

“And you're busy?” Bucky asked again, his gaze focused solely on the blond standing in front of him.

At the time, you hated what he was doing. You understood that he didn't want to go on that mission with you because he didn't feel comfortable or just didn't want to see you, but it cost him nothing to have a little, just a little compassion enough to not try to get rid of you and that mission right in front of you as if you weren't listening to him.

“Bucky…”

Steve sighed, but the man in front of him didn't soften his expression or make any pretense of taking back his words.

“If you've got a problem with this, you should go talk it over with Fury,” the blond recommended, not answering his question directly, sending him a hard glare before turning to look at you again. “See you later.”

You nodded in his direction and the man quickly left the room.

The silence that followed was deadly.

You watched the man continue to sit in that armchair, his jaw tense, his hands clenched and his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. He was so still he looked like a statue. It was scary.

You tried to take a tentative step in his direction, but noticing your movement roused him from his trance and he stood up quickly. He let out a sigh and walked out of the room without looking at you.

You felt a kind of courage catch in your throat when you called out to him.

“Bucky.”

“No,” the man replied almost instantly, his body near the door turning violently to stare at you and point his index finger at you. The angry look he gave you made you regret all the decisions in your life that had brought you to that moment. “I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to hear your apology. I don't want anything from you.”

With each word he moved closer to you until you had to start backing away. You were too surprised at how he had exploded just hearing you call out to him. He must have had too much pent up. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to do this at the time.

“If you want to blow off steam, talk to a fucking wall. But don't come near me or try to fix something you broke with your bare hands.”

You felt the air that entered your body freeze your lungs. His piercing eyes and angry expression shattered any willpower you had collected since Steve left the room, but it was the way his voice broke as he was finishing speaking that took the words right out of your mouth.

“You could have simply listened to me and you didn't. That's all. There is nothing you can apologise for because you yourself decided, within your will, that your life mattered nothing compared to the goal of that fucking mission.”

His eyes wouldn't leave yours and you hated the way you felt the prior sting of tears make your vision blurrier each time because you didn't want to miss a single detail of his face. He was so angry, furious, disappointed and... desperate to let you know how you had made him feel.

“And I don't know if you do, but I don't see what excuse is good enough to justify that.”

The thread of tension you felt in the air was choking you and you didn't know what to do to stop the tears from escaping your eyes. You would have expected anything but such an explosion of rage against you. It wasn't normal for Bucky to have such outbursts, and it also seemed that he knew exactly what points to make because you suddenly felt helpless in the way he was exposing his thoughts about you. Which perhaps weren't far from the truth.

“I didn't want to give you an excuse,” you were barely able to reply, at the tense look he was giving you. Your mind was working hard to avoid touching on the subject he was apparently trying to bring up.

“I don't see how that's any better.”

“I just wanted to apologise. I know I was wrong, okay? I think about it every day since we got back and I know I made a mistake. But I didn't throw my life away by just thinking about accomplishing the mission.”

Bucky let out a raw, lazy laugh without a hint of humor. You felt a shiver run through your body and it was unwelcome.

“I bet you didn't even think about the possibility of getting out alive after you heard the first explosion and that didn't matter to you.”

“It wasn't like that!” you replied instantly, raising your voice to match his, your head suddenly panicking.

“You didn't care because you were only thinking about the mission!”

“But how could we come back empty-handed, Bucky!? All that effort and time to be left with nothing!? Wasn't that worse?”

“Of course not! What the fuck makes you think we'd prefer an inconclusive fucking lead on a team member's life?”

“For God's sake, Bucky Barnes!” you roared and turned away from the man, a wave of anger coursing through your body burning away any trace of sadness you might have felt just moments ago. You knew that feeling and it wasn't welcome. You knew this argument wasn't going to end well, but seeing the look on Bucky's face you knew he wasn't just going to walk away if you asked him to.

Even though your mind was focused on avoidance, you tried to prepare yourself for the possibility that you might end up saying things you shouldn't, too.

“And don't give me any fucking shit about how you knew everything was going to be okay because I don't believe you.”

“Well don't believe me,” you exclaimed turning to look at him. “Don't believe anything that comes out of my mouth if that's what you want. That's not going to erase the fact that I do regret not listening to you and risking my life like that.”

“Lies.”

You half-opened your lips, your face contorted in disbelief. It couldn't have been that easy for him…

“I just told you-”

“And less than twenty seconds ago you said how dare I even think about coming back empty-handed, instead of thinking about how I'd come back to tell the rest of the team that you were dead.”

“But I'm not dead.”

Bucky shook his head.

“Now, you're just telling me what I want to hear.”

“No, I'm telling you the truth.”

“You're not telling me anything, Y/N! Are you sorry for what you did? Good for you. But tell me something, would you do it differently if you had another chance?”

“What?”

“If you woke up tomorrow and we were on that mission again, me yelling at you to get out of the building, would you?”

You didn't even have to think twice to know the answer, but saying it out loud was much scarier than just being silent. Silence.

“I thought so.”

Still, even knowing you didn't have the upper hand in that fight, you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

“That doesn't explain anything, Bucky, I don't-”

“Stop lying already. If you really wanted to apologise to me you could have at least had the decency to tell the truth.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, the anger and irritability of your cowardice coming out to take it out on anyone but you. “You're a fucking genius then, aren't you? You know everything.”

“Well, it looks like you're the only one who doesn't.”

“You can't know what was going through my head at the time. You don't know everything!”

“Then fucking tell me: what were you thinking?”

Your mind went blank. And then words. Thoughts. Images. Nothing encouraging, nothing that would help your case. Again, fear came over you and you couldn't respond. You knew you were playing with fire, especially with him. Especially with the man who had learned to see beyond the cheerful, untroubled woman you were always trying to be.

“I was listening to you and I wanted to get out-”

“Then why didn't you?”

You didn't want him to keep pushing because you felt you wouldn't be able to keep running in the opposite direction. The weight of his words was more than the weight of your silence could bear. Silence.

“Now, with what face are you going to tell me you weren't lying?”

I'm sorry.

“This isn't fair.”

“Oh, so you're the one going through an injustice now. Funny.”

Your body felt his words hurt you, and too much, and instinctively your mind and your defence mechanisms leapt to take control of your words, even though you didn't mean to. Even though you knew you shouldn't because someone in that room was right and it wasn't you. Because you couldn't control the way your mind sought to get out and hide from the confrontations that questioned the way you lived. That was why you kept your distance. It was why you had boundaries with Bucky.

Damn the moment when you decided to believe what others said.

“Why does it matter now what happened back then? I'm here now, giving you an apology you don't want to accept just because I wanted to try to save what we had.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows and stood in a state of stupefaction for a few seconds. His eyes twitched and blinked rapidly as if his head didn't believe what he had heard and he mentally replayed it several times.

“What we had? What exactly did we have?”

“A friendship, Bucky! A mutual appreciation. A mutual respect.”

How you dare to talk about respect?

“Having a friendship implies that you worry and care about what the other person feels.”

Bucky watched you expectantly. His furious face gave no room for contradiction and you soon found yourself between a rock and a hard place. This man wasn't going to give up until he got what he wanted, and you didn't know how things would turn out when he did. You didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.

“When you were in that building, did you think about me, besides cursing me a thousand times for not letting you accomplish the mission while I was trying to save your life?”

Silence.

“Did you care, at any point, what would have become of me if you hadn't gotten out of that building?”

“Bucky, but that's not what-”

“Can you just answer…! Answer the fucking question.”

Silence.

“I… there was too much going on in my head at the same time.”

“But you weren't thinking about getting out of there!” he screamed.

“I thought I was a burden!" you screamed back, his hard stare breaking your self-control and you lowered your head. “I thought you always have to take care of me when I go on missions. I thought I don't really contribute anything important to the team. I thought I'd be a failure if I came back empty-handed when I was so close to making it. I thought… I thought nothing else mattered but accomplishing the mission.”

The last you admitted almost with shame. And though you struggled to think otherwise, your own mind accused you of not being strong enough to endure. You had to feel that shame because someone wasn't really supposed to know, not even for the fact that you had just admitted to him that you had crudely lied to him by excusing yourself behind a false apology, but because that was something that wasn't supposed to leave your head. Because they would always leave, they would abandon you, they wouldn't look back twice. And you were expectantly torn to see the moment when that would happen.

Bucky was just watching you. When you looked up to see him, you noticed that his angry expression had softened just a little. His gaze hovered over your figure for a few seconds until he let out a sigh.

“You've got a lot to work on, Y/N.”

And he left the room. You didn't try or think to stop him for a second. The stark truth of what you had said echoed off the walls and came back at you with such force that you feared it would tear you to pieces. But you did nothing about it. You let it come back because you didn't have the strength to move, you didn't have the strength to do more.

When you let your knees give way under the weight of your body, you curled up next to the couch and cried. You cried as if having said that to Bucky, finally getting those thoughts you tried every day to suppress out, had activated a little reason in your mind. As if, suddenly, you could no longer pretend that everything was all right and try to hide things behind a smile and a story.

You couldn't live your whole life believing that you could live behind a charade, after all.

3K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 4 days

Note

A one shot where Bucky doesn’t like the reader and makes her life at the compound a little rough? Like enemies (maybe to lover or friends?) and she is like the sunshine personality 🥺🥺🥺

I live for this shit This type of angst where he's mean and finds her annoying even though she's a sweetheart, ugh, yes. YES.

Bucky groaned, trying to ignore the shooting pain that seared in his abdomen, clutching an old t-shirt to stop the bleeding from the stab wound he'd received during his latest mission.

"You good there, terminator?" Sam cocked an eyebrow watching Bucky unconvincingly nod, grunting a half assed yes before squeezing his eyes shut and flopping back on the seat.

"You're gonna need stiches" Steve snorted, shaking his head at his stubborn friend.

"I'm fine" Bucky gritted out, preferring to bleed out on the jet instead of going to the med bay where he'd be surrounded by doctors and needles and if he was really unlucky, you.

"Seriously? That's the second shirt you've bled through, I don't think the serum's gonna cut it, punk" Steve sighed, knowing how Bucky felt about getting medical care but it wasn't like he had a choice. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky was shoved in the direction of the medical wing, pouting and grumpy as he limped with Steve supporting him. Bucky frowned when Steve pushed him to lay down on the examination table, grumbling and wincing under his breath.

"You stay here. I'm gonna finish writing up our reports, don't go sneaking off" Steve chuckled, giving his friend's shoulder a squeeze before leaving. The soldier stared up at the florescent lights, his eyes anxiously darting about the room, hoping and praying that at the very least he wouldn't have to deal with-

"Good afternoon Bucky!"

For fucks sake.

Bucky groaned at the chirpy voice that piped up from the door, his brows knotted together from frustration.

He hated it. You'd ask about his day as if he wasn't there go get sewn up. You'd talk to him like you'd known him for years, almost oblivious to the fact that he was a former brain washed assassin. Every time he saw you, you were so giggly and pretty and bouncy and cute and happy and it irked his soul because it was to the point it was unnecessary. I mean you were just so kind and sweet to everyone as if everyone deserved such amazingness from such a wonderful person, okay that's enough Bucky.

The world wasn't fucking sunshine and rainbows and he had no idea why you acted like it was.

"Steve said you needed a few stitches so-

"Where's Dr. Cho" Bucky cut you off, hoping anyone else would help him so he could get on with his day, willing to take the needle and thread himself instead of having you do it while talking his ear off.

"Oh, she's with another patient right now but it's fine, I promise I'll get you out of here soon, do you mind if I remove your vest-

"Yeah, I got it" Bucky huffed, wincing to get his gear off but you stopped him, urging him to stay down.

"No, it's okay, I just wanted to make sure you're okay with it, I'll cut it off, don't worry"

Bucky nodded, lying back down while you grabbed a tray with medical supplied, carefully cutting around the blood soaked material and discarding it. You cleaned the area, mumbling apologies incase the alcohol caused any pain, moving on to closing the cut.

"I heard about the mission you all went on. I can't even imagine going through all that, it sounded terrifying. You're very brave Sargent" You smiled, tossing your gloves aside after patching Bucky up. Bucky grunted as he hopped off the table without a word, ready to whack Steve on the head for telling you of all people he needed help.

"If you need anything else, let me know! Just get some rest for a few days, it'll heal soon-

"I know" Bucky walked out of the room without looking back, his shoulders relaxing when he was far away from he med wing. There was truly no reason for him to be this annoyed but he was tired, in pain and he knew for a fact there would be a pile of papers for him to fill out in the conference room.

You didn't take Bucky's grumpy attitude to heart, understanding the stress that came with going on missions, getting injured every time coupled with the fact that he was probably still healing from his own past. You put away the supplies before taking a coffee break, running into a very excited Tony along the way.

"Hey cupcake, just who I was looking for, do you like chocolate or vanilla"

"Tony, I told you, you don't have to-

"That doesn't answer the question. Pick one or the other or both or another flavor, all the flavours, but give me something"

You giggled at the way he looked at you expectantly, sighing seeing as he wouldn't let up until you answered.

"I'm not picky, you know I'd love anything. Get something everyone would like, seriously, I don't even need all this, I'm just the nurse-

"Stop that right now, there's no one else like you" Tony huffed, planting a quick kiss your head before texting his caterers about everything he wanted, ensuring everything was perfect, especially when it came to you.

You woke up to the sun streaming through the curtains, stretching before getting out of bed and padding over to the bathroom to go through your morning routine. You had the day off, throwing on your joggers instead of your typical scrubs and making your way down to the kitchen, grabbing ingredients for baking.

You hummed, scooping out spoons of cookie batter, plopping it onto the tray and throwing it into the oven, cleaning up the area in between, waiting for the oven timer to go off. You set the chocolate chip cookies onto a tray, piping the last bit of icing onto the top and sweeping away the smidges of frosting that got onto the counter.

Bucky blinked at the smell of baking, making his way to the kitchen for some water after a run. He groaned, nearly walking right back out when he saw you singing to yourself, arranging cookies in a circle, each one decorated for a different person in the tower.

"Good morning Bucky" You smiled while he mumbled, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, "I-I made made cookies for everyone, did you want one?" You asked hopefully, looking at the little dog tags you'd piped on the cookie you made for him while he shrugged in response.

"Why do you keep trying so hard, do you not have any friends?" Bucky scoffed, ignoring the fresh plate of cookies that sat on the counter, not caring that your face had fallen. He wanted to strike a nerve, feeling a sick satisfaction at the way you silenced yourself, giving him the peace and quiet he wanted.

"S-sorry, I just thought-

"You thought what?" Buck cocked an eyebrow, the tick in his jaw making your stomach churn.

"Nothing, sorry" You mumbled, turning back to continue cleaning while he chugged the rest of the bottle. "I've just leave them here if you want one later on-

"No, I don't want one now and I don't think I'll want one later either" Bucky glared at you, tired of you always trying to do things for others as if anyone asked.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't-" you bit your lip hard to keep from crying, not wanting to annoy Bucky more.

"Why do you always act like everything great? Like we don't come back from almost dying, risking our lives while you go about like the world is perfect"

"I just-I didn't mean-

"You didn't mean what, to be annoying? Did anyone even ask for this?" Bucky nodded to the cookies while you shook your head, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed, not realizing others also probably found you annoying.

"I-it was my birthday, I thought-" you sniffled, choking back a whimper, "I wanted to do something nice - never mind" You bit your lip to keep from breaking down, blinking back tears as you scurried off to your room, without looking back.

The initial satisfaction Bucky was short lived as he stood in the now empty kitchen, tossing the bottle aside. The plate caught his eye once more as he walked by, reluctantly stopping to look at each one, your skilled hands decorating each one with clean details. He instantly spotting the one you made for him which had been dusted with silver just like his tags; he had no idea how you managed to get his name and number piped to precisely.

Not that it mattered.

Bucky continued to make his way to the gym, feeling a little bad that he made you cry but he figured you'd get over soon enough, after all that seemed to be your strong suit, you were always happy and smiling anyway.

"You're coming tonight, right?" Steve dropped the weights he was curling while Bucky frowned, unsure of what the captain was referring to.

"Why, what's tonight" Bucky grunted, still in the middle of his set.

"Seriously, Tony told us like a month ago"

"Yeah, fine" Bucky huffed, not really caring what it was about, knowing he'd be dragged to go regardless. He finished the rest of his workout, retreating back to his room to shower. He flopped onto his bed after, grabbing a book from his bedside table seeing as there was still plenty of time till he had to get ready.

The book had been a Christmas present from you and as much as he hated to admit it, it was perfect and one of his favorites. He tried to focus on the words, feeling bad again thinking about how your face had fallen earlier when all you did was offer him a cookie.

Maybe he went a little overboard with his reaction...

Bucky shook the guilt he felt, hoping that you'd be running around somewhere getting ready for whatever tonight was.

"Where's y/n" Sam looked around the room seeing everyone else present but you, the night in full swing seeing as Tony had gone all out as usual "I swear she said she'd be here, this is literally her birthday party"

"I didn't see her" Nat frowned, putting down the drink she was sipping on, scanning the room again, "Now that I think about it, I haven't seen her all day"

Bucky felt a deep pang in his chest when he realized the party was for you, his stomach twisting in knots.

"Where's our birthday girl" Steve asked as he joined the others, the guilt making Bucky feel even more sick. He ran a hand over his face while the others continued to wonder where you were. "I hope she isn't working, she deserves a day off, she already worked over time for 3 months straight when we were running back to back missions"

Bucky remembered that.

They'd all been sent out on missions spread across different months and you'd been the one on call to patch them up the entire time. You hadn't complained once even through you were thoroughly sleep deprived. At the time Bucky was annoyed you were in such an upbeat mood when they were all scraping by but you had been struggling yourself.

"I fucked up" Bucky groaned, feeling awful for how he'd treated you in the morning and for how he'd been acting towards you in general.

"Why, what did you do" Steve's face twisted in confusion while Bucky's face reddened in embarrassment. Steve was aware Bucky complained about you but he figured it was because his bestfriend got flustered around the pretty nurse, he'd seen Bucky get tongue tied plenty of times whenever you walked by.

"You were a grumpy asshole to y/n, weren't you" Sam frowned seeing Bucky's guilty face. The soldier didn't say another word, leaving the group to find you instead, debating on getting Steve to clock him in the jaw first. Bucky ran to the elevator, pushing the button to your floor, hoping he'd see you making your way down, only to find the hallway empty. His heart broke hearing the soft sniffles coming from your room, the door closed. He gently knocked on the door, your cries quieting down as if you'd silenced yourself to pretend you were asleep instead of opening the door.

"Y/n?" Bucky called for you only to be met with more silence, "Can-can you please open the door?" His heart started to beat faster when he head your footsteps approaching the door, clicking the lock open; you were still in your joggers from earlier, your face puffy from crying.

All because of him.

"Sorry, I fell asleep" you lied, keeping your face trained on your feet, worried Bucky had come to yell at you about the party Tony had thrown for you, "and I'm sorry about the party, you didn't have to go if you didn't want to, I promise I didn't tell Tony you had to come, I know you don' like me-

"No, no baby no, stop" Bucky hushed you, his heart breaking when your voice cracked, rambling out apologies. His body moved on its own, wrapping his arms around you while you started to cry again, rocking you while holding you to his chest. "Please don't cry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you have nothing to apologize for doll, nothing at all"

Bucky held you tightly while your body shook, feeling sick with himself for how he'd been treating you. You'd never been anything short of sweet and he'd made a point of always letting you know he couldn't care less. He lifted you in his arms, walking over to your bed, sitting down with you in his lap, ready to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

"I didn't mean to be so annoying" You shrugged, fidgeting with your fingers, the light that always made your eyes twinkle dimmed from Bucky's words.

"Y/n, please, no" Bucky whispered, pleading with you to stop. "Don't doll. It was never ever you, please let me apologize. I've been awful to you, you've done nothing wrong. You've always been an angel, sweets, it's me whose been an annoying asshole. I don't deserve your kindness but that's never stopped you from giving it to me when I least deserved it"

"You deserve kindness Bucky" you gave him a small smile, one that didn't meet your eyes and Bucky felt his eyes sting. Even when he was the one in the wrong, you were still comforting him with your sweetness.

"Y/n, I don't know anyone that deserves the sort of kindness you give. I don't know anyone that would deserve someone as wonderful as you. You're a light for everyone when its dark. I was a fuckin' idiot for everything I've ever said to you. That isn't an excuse for how I've been treating you doll, I know that. It's just- I've been awful to you and you've never done anything wrong. I'm truly sorry sweets"

"Its okay Bucky" You whispered, reaching up to wipe the tear that streaked down his face, your cheeks heating up when you realized you were still in his lap, "S-sorry, I didn't realize-

Bucky shook his head, holding you securely in his lap, not wanting to let you go.

"You have nothing to apologize for, pretty girl" Bucky shrugged, loosening his hold in case you wanted to get off but your doe eyes darted around instead, settling further in his lap. "You really are like sunshine"

"You're very charming, Sargent" you smiled bashfully while Bucky chuckled, his heart beating erratically in his chest when your hands came up to toy with the tags that hung around his neck.

"Would it-would it be if I kissed you?" He whispered shyly, blushing when you nodded, pressing his soft lips to yours. Bucky took his time kissing you, pouring every ounce of his feelings with soft touches, holding onto you like porcelain.

"Everyone's waiting for you sweets" Bucky gave you a gentle squeeze, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, hoping that you'd still want to go to your own party. "Would you like to go downstairs?"

You slinked off Bucky's lap to get ready, the soldier watching you with heart eyes the entire time you did your hair and makeup. He knew he had a lot to make up for, starting with the fact that he'd never hurt you again. He was still upset with himself for ever hurting you in the first place but he was ready to protect your innocent heart for the rest of his life. His breath hitched in his throat when you finished applying the last of your gloss, blushing when you slipped your hand into his so he could lead you down.

"Theres our cupcake!" Tony grinned when he saw you approaching, the rest of the team cheering making you giggle. Steve smirked seeing Bucky follow closely behind you in protective mode, keeping his hand around your waist. He spent the entire time, doting on you, following you like a lost puppy.

By the end of the night, he had you in his lap again, shamelessly looking at you with heart eyes while the rest of the team watched curiously, his sole focus on you.

"Happy birthday sweet girl" Bucky whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek while you nuzzled into him with a shy smile, "My little sunshine"

Now imagine Bucky doesn't quickly get over the fact that he was a dick. Sure you forgave him because you're an absolute sweetheart but Bucky can't even deal with the way he'd acted, especially when he had a crush on you the entire time and just refused to acknowledge it, acting like a cunt instead.

He's the most lovestuck boyfriend to ever exist. Your office is always full of fresh flowers. He's a clingy little puppy, outside of the medwing until your done, always finding excuses to sneak in and see you. You had to tell him a papercut wasn't a good enough reason for him to request your services.

Neither was a stubbed toe.

The time he nicked himself while shaving was the worst because he was pouty until you kissed him better.

He slips his dog tags around you, his possessive/jealous side occasionally sneaking out.

He doesn't even hide the fact that he's a simp for you, knowing he's the luckiest person on the planet to get the sweetest person in the world. He shows your off like no tomorrow, proud of the angel he gets to call his.

He absolutely loved his sunshine.

3K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 4 days

Text

Spiral

Bucky Barnes x teacher reader

Warnings: AANGST Arguments, mean Bucky, break up, make up, fluffff

listen, don’t eat me alive for this, I’ve been craving some angst (with a happy ending), the type that makes my chest itch so here we are. If this is too toxic for you and you only live for sunshine and rainbows and perfect communication, then this is not the fic for you. He gets mean because that’s what I wanted. So mean. I wanted to feel physical pain while reading. But then my hamster brain got exhausted to write more groveling. So don’t come at me about “she shouldn’t have taken him back, he should’ve begged and groveled more” He groveled.

You sighed, rubbing sleep away from your eyes, trying to get them to focus on the time on the clock.

2:57 AM

You stretched out some of the kinks from your neck after falling asleep on the couch, reaching for your phone and squinting at the bright screen, all your calls and texts left unanswered. He didn’t respond to one. You sat up hearing the lock click open, some of your anxiety melting away hearing the thud of his bag hit the floor.

Keep reading

3K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 5 days

Note

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

to be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

3K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 6 days

Text

Past, Present, ...

Summary: After sleeping with Bucky after months of comforting him during his nightmares, Y/N returns from a three-week mission to find out she's been replaced.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Near death, Implying attempted suicide (it's not)

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Not Beta'd. Dusting this off from the drafts. I wrote this while sleep deprived. Not sure how we got here but the original ending wasn't a happy one. Enjoy whatever this is instead.

How much space is too much?

According to James Bucky Barnes, three weeks isn't enough.

Three weeks on an assignment was enough for Y/N to become homesick. She understood she would have to pause her life to save the world, but what no one informed her was that the rest of the world would continue to play.

“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice shouted.

Adjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, Y/N turned her head to find her co-worker jogging towards her. Slanting her eyes, Y/N raised her palm to block out the sun.

“Wilson,” she addressed the man when he was near.

Bent over with his hands on his knees, Sam panted. His sweatshirt stretched across his back making the dark patch of sweat more prominent. Squinting up at Y/N, Sam breathed, “Did you just get back?”

Y/N bobbed her head, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once more for emphasis rather than comfort. She did not need to ask to know Sam just returned from his run. He usually ran with Steve and Bucky, but they always finished well before Sam. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return hours after the super-soldiers.

Pushing off his knees, Sam stood, tilting his head toward one of the many entrances in Avengers Tower. He knew better than to offer to carry her duffle bag. The weight of missions was often packed in the bags they returned with.

Y/N and Sam strolled side by side. Sam only paused to open the door for Y/N. Trekking into the tower, he could finally relax his eyes from the intense sun. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“I thought you were already back,” Sam admitted, watching the light above the elevator doors.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her mission was supposed to be longer. If anything, he should have anticipated her return later. Facing the man beside her, she asked, “Why?”

Ding.

Scrambling into the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall across from Y/N. She reflected his behavior, leaning against the wall behind her.

Once the elevator started moving, Sam confessed, “Bucky skipped his run today. I thought I saw you with him before I left. Guess I was wrong.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, reopening a recently closed wound. She released her lip long enough to confirm what Sam already knew. “You were wrong.” Ignoring the coppery taste flooding her tongue, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.

She hadn’t seen her teammates in three weeks. She hadn’t seen Bucky longer. She assumed they were doing great, but Bucky didn't share her thoughts. He denied it, yet he went out of his way to avoid her since their last mission together, since they slept together. How one could be sweet in one moment and cold in another, Y/N would never understand.

Y/N and Bucky started off rocky. He hated her from the moment they met. Bucky was struggling in the field, so Steve asked her to keep an eye on him. Bucky rejected her the second Steve introduced them. He saw through Steve’s plan and stomped his feet like a child. Rather than confirm Bucky’s insinuation, Steve vouched that she deserved to be on the team for her talents, not to babysit Bucky. He even suggested that Y/N and Bucky spar to prove it. Bucky loathed her then. She laid him out several times that day. It was the reason Steve sought her out in the first place. Bucky was a far more experienced fighter than Y/N. He should have won every fight. He lost them all.

Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the doors. Voices Y/N craved to hear since she departed for her mission. When the doors spread, Sam was the first to enter the room. “Hey guys,” he called out, extending his hands toward Y/N, “look who I found.”

Y/N tentatively stepped off the elevator, joining her friends in the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many eyes on her. “I didn’t know there was a party,” she joked, waving.

Tony was the first to speak up, a glass of honey liquid in hand, “Glad, you're back. We were just getting to know Bucky’s girlfriend over here.” He lifted his glass.

Y/N’s eyes followed the direction of Tony’s glass. Her hand tautened around the strap of her duffle bag for support. Y/N hadn’t noticed the extra body in the room at first. The team always had someone over for business or pleasure; it didn’t matter. This time it did because staring back at her was Bucky’s guest, his girlfriend, undoubtedly here for pleasure.

The stunning woman beside Bucky introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Evangelina, but everyone calls me Lina.” Y/N could see the muscles in her uncovered arms tense. Even though she couldn’t see the hand attached to the arm from the other side of the bar, she knew Evangelina was holding Bucky’s flesh hand. “But Bucky calls me Angel,” she added, batting her eyelashes at Bucky.

The woman wasn't solely attractive; she also had a heavenly name. Y/N mentally gagged at the thought of hearing Bucky call his girlfriend Angel.

The coward refused to meet Y/N’s eyes. He took a lengthy drink from a glass matching Tony’s. Stark usually drank top-shelf liquor. Y/N might have been concerned under different circumstances, but she knew the liquor did not affect him, unlike herself.

“Y/N,” she weakly introduced herself, gnawing on her bottom lip again.

“We were just having drinks. Care to join us? There is plenty of alcohol. I can make you something,” Evangelina offered politely.

Y/N’s teeth clamped tight on her bottom lip. She spent three weeks wishing she could return to the tower, only to be treated like a guest, an outsider in her own home.

It was then that Bucky decided to face her, yet his eyes looked right through her. Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t know it was feasible to feel more alone in her home, surrounded by friends and a man she had been intimate with, than by herself in a foreign country. She wondered if he could see the hurt written on her face.

“I-I don’t-”

Bucky’s whiskey-strained voice interrupted, “No. No drinks.”

A gasp pulled Y/N's attention away from the couple. Cold, pale hands rested on her cheeks, rotating her head from side to side. “Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Natasha chastised.

Wrestling out of Natasha’s hold, Y/N utilized the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lip. Staring at the crimson fluid coating her skin, Y/N jerked her head. “I can’t.” Blindly smashing the elevator button behind her, she whispered, “I have to…” her voice trailed off as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. Disregarding everyone’s silent questions, she bolted into the elevator, only letting her shoulders sag when the doors closed. The strap of her duffle bag slid from her shoulder landing with a thud. Gliding her back down the wall, Y/N cradled her knees and wept.

Every night before bed, Y/N prayed the sun would never rise because when day broke, Bucky vanished. Her dreams filled with memories of their last mission together. Reality was the price of admission for eight hours in heaven.

Y/N clenched her jaw at every public display of affection between the new couple. In the time she had known him, Bucky had never been touchy-feely in public. Now, he couldn’t appear to stop. Bucky only ever reached for Y/N after a nightmare or horrific mission. He reached for her at his lowest and she responded with open arms. He might have another woman occupying his bed, but he continued to fuck with her head.

The voice in her head wasn’t her own anymore. Every thought she had echoed back in his familiar deep timber. She couldn’t shake him. A twisted part of her brain wondered if he couldn’t shake her either.

Sam’s comment when she returned from her assignment should have been her first clue. He had mistaken Evangelina for her. Sam had been the first to mention the resemblance between the two, but it wasn’t the last time Y/N received those kinds of comments.

In the time that Y/N had gotten to know Evangelina, which wasn’t much, she concluded that she didn’t hate her. The two had more in common than she wanted to admit. Evangelina made it a point to befriend all of the Avengers; Y/N included. Y/N hated that she enjoyed her company. It was a tough pill to swallow at first, but she couldn’t hate the woman for her taste in men. Who didn’t find Bucky Barnes attractive?

Bucky had been more challenging to read. He didn’t prevent the women from becoming friends, but he didn’t encourage it either. He continued to keep his distance from Y/N, only interacting with her in group settings.

The Avengers were unaware of Bucky and Y/N’s history. Their relationship was exclusively behind closed doors. Y/N wondered if Evangelina would be her confidante if she knew Y/N had warmed his bed first. Maybe Bucky told her and that was why she pushed to be Y/N’s friend. Maybe that was the reason she asked to raid Y/N’s closet for her date with Bucky. Even though Y/N desperately wanted to slam the door in her face, Evangelina was innocent in the situation. So, she agreed.

“You have so many pretty dresses,” Evangelina said in awe. Her hand ran across each piece of fabric dangling in the wardrobe.

Y/N’s fingers plucked at a loose thread on her comforter. Although they were now friends, helping Bucky’s girlfriend pick out an outfit for their date was still awkward. At least it was on Y/N’s end. Evangelina was none the wiser.

“Perks of being an Avenger.”

“What’s it like being an Avenger? Bucky never talks about his work life. He’s always tense when he returns from a mission.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow even though the other woman couldn’t see her. Bucky was slow to open up, especially about his past as the Winter Soldier. Y/N wasn’t surprised he dodged the topic. Ever since Natasha leaked classified files, Bucky’s past became public knowledge. Bucky and Evangelina’s relationship progressed beyond what Y/N previously had with Bucky, at least on the surface. She didn’t know much about their life behind closed doors. Bucky never took Y/N on a date or made her his girlfriend, but he let her hold him in her arms at night and let her in after a difficult mission. Yet his girlfriend practically confessed she knew nothing about his troubles. That was what shocked Y/N.

“It’s…” she paused, attempting to find the right words to convey the difficulties of the job without disturbing her. “It’s like war. You save and lose people. It’s rewarding and sucks at the same time.”

Evangelina pivoted with a black cocktail dress in hand. “That sounds awful.”

Y/N shrugged. “People do it every day. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were all military men before this.” She waved her hands around the room.

Evangelina caught the shift in Y/N’s tone. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, a reaction Evangelina grew used to from her exchanges with Bucky. Altering the subject, Evangelina pressed the cocktail dress flush to her body. “What about this one?”

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. She wore the dress on her last mission with Bucky. Though he didn’t say it in public, his reaction when they returned to the safe house that night was enough to know Bucky admired the dress. With Evangelina’s similar figure, Y/N knew Bucky would equally appreciate it on her, especially since he wouldn’t get to rip it off of Y/N again.

She would have told Evangelina about the dress, but it was none of her business. The past was in the past. One Evangelina wasn’t a part of. If Bucky hadn’t told her about their past neither would she. Was it bad to send Evangelina on a date in the dress Bucky had fucked her in? Probably. Did she hope he would think about her the entire date? Absolutely.

Clearing her throat, Y/N plastered a phony smile on her face. “Good choice.” After the date, the dress would be tarnished, like rerecording over an old tape.

Y/N never considered herself a masochist, but she couldn’t escape the role of a domestic sinner. She couldn’t sabotage Evangelina’s relationship no matter how Bucky made her feel; however, she could ruin her own relationship. There was a time in her life when she thought Bucky was the one. Part of her still believed it. It was the part she had to sacrifice.

She told herself Bucky’s soft caresses and lingering stares meant nothing, that every promise spoken was a lie to satisfy the moment. Everything Y/N ever loved had been hard to part with, so she convinced herself Bucky never truly loved her. He couldn’t with how readily he replaced her. Could he? It didn’t matter because he chose Evangelina.

“Hey, Y/N,” Steve welcomed jovially.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Steve’s voice carried down the hall. Who was he talking to? Rounding the corner just in time, she hadn’t missed the way Steve’s eyes enlarged at the sight of her.

“I didn’t realize,” Steve began, his eyes flashing between both women. “I thought you were Y/N.”

Evangelina chuckled, gliding her hands across her abdomen to smooth down the front of the dress. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Y/N was considerate enough to lend me her dress.” She turned to Y/N, who was still standing in the archway of the lobby. “Thanks again.”

Before Y/N could reply, a hand slinked around her waist, drawing her into a solid body. Startled, Y/N tensed.

“Hey, Ange-” Bucky’s tongue twisted as his eyes landed on Y/N. He was relieved he peeked at her face before he complimented her appearance. He dragged his arm back to his side in a flash. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Y/N chewed her lip, taking a step back. Bucky was dressed from head to toe in black, matching Evangelina. Y/N wondered if they planned to dress for her funeral before or after they killed off any romantic feelings she had for Bucky.

“I did the same thing,” Steve laughed. Bucky glowered at him, forcing his hands into his pockets. Steve held his hands up, “I didn’t touch anyone though, that was all you.”

Bucky grumbled, crossing the lobby to plant a kiss on Evangelina’s forehead. His right hand rested on the small of her back. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered against her hairline.

Evangelina grinned, “You don’t look bad yourself.”

Y/N couldn’t argue with that.

The faint smile on Bucky’s lips disappeared as the hand on Evangelina’s back ran up her spine. The tips of his fingers halted over a loose thread beside the zipper. Anyone would have glossed over it, but not Bucky. Not when he was the one to patch the dress up and certainly not when he was the one to tear it in the first place. When his gaze collided with Y/N’s, she knew he recognized the dress. His eyes blatantly proceeded to check her out.

Y/N flushed as he studied her; however, the moment his eyes drifted to his best friend, Y/N’s blood ran cold. “Are you two,” he pointed between Y/N and Steve. His voice was unable to fully ask the question he wanted to.

Steve slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to be a joke, but Y/N saw the blaze in Bucky’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was directed at Steve or herself.

“I wish,” Steve beamed down at her. “I have a conference with Fury in an hour. I was hoping to get there early.”

Y/N sent Steve a soft smile. Steve and Bucky were best friends. If anyone knew what transpired between the two on their last mission, it would be Steve. His reaction proved otherwise. She was confident Steve didn’t know about her past with Bucky or he wouldn’t have unknowingly taunted Bucky.

Evangelina ran her hand along Bucky’s back affectionately. “What about you, Y/N? That dress looks amazing on you. I’m almost jealous I didn’t borrow that one.”

Untangling herself from Steve’s hold, Y/N focused on responding to her new friend rather than Bucky. Puffing out her chest, Y/N said, “Thanks, Lina. I have a date.”

Evangelina grinned, “You should join us.” She directed her attention to Bucky, slapping the center of his chest. “They should join us.”

Y/N’s eyes bulged at the prospect of a double date with Bucky. Absolutely not.

“Could be fun,” Bucky added, but his voice lacked emotion.

She officially lost her mind. There was no way Bucky was actually on board with this idea. The man spent most of his time avoiding her. The second she attempts to move on, he tries to interfere. No. No. No.

Y/N shook her head, lying through her teeth, “It’s still new. I’m not ready to introduce him to anyone I know yet.”

Bucky’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s figure for a moment. “That’s not exactly a new relationship kind of dress.” His eyes narrowed in a challenge.

Y/N pursed her lips. “It is for the kind of relationship he and I have.”

Bucky and Y/N’s first assignment together was a disaster. Bucky wasn't prepared to return to the field, but he insisted he was fine. The mission was successful, but only after Bucky hesitated and Y/N was stabbed. The knife was meant for Bucky, and he took her sacrifice for his mistake poorly. They argued even while Y/N was getting stitched up. At the time, they couldn’t stand one another, but looking back on it, it was the tipping point from enemies to friends.

Tony pressured the two to get along for everyone's sake. He suggested going out for a drink and hashing it out. It was the typical outing for a man of Tony’s status with enemies. Bucky had been the first to yield, offering to buy Y/N a drink. As long as it meant they could move forward, he didn’t care. Y/N declined. Bucky scowled in frustration.

“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but ever since the whole enhanced superpower thing, alcohol is like poison to me.”

Bucky’s face softened. Alcohol had been an issue for him and Steve as well. He detested that he couldn’t get drunk, especially with the unwanted memories that plagued his head frequently. It paled in comparison to her side effects. At least he could still consume the liquid and pretend.

“How about dinner then?” Bucky proposed.

Y/N nodded. “Dinner would be great.”

After that, the pair functioned well together. At least until Y/N witnessed Bucky’s nightmares or when he pulled away from everyone after a challenging mission. That was when Y/N began comforting Bucky. While it wasn’t a problem before, it was now.

“Stop staring at me,” Bucky grumbled.

Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the super-soldier. It was their first mission together since he began dating Evangelina. The two of them were trapped in a safe house on the other side of the world. It wasn’t the first time they had stayed in this particular safe house. It was the exact safe house they inhabited on their last mission.

“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed. Bucky naturally had a sway in his gate. Today, it was heavier, as if he had been lugging extra weight around for hours.

“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, keeping his back to Y/N. He kept his focus on igniting the fire in the fireplace before them.

Y/N frowned. “I don't mean physically.” Bucky remained silent. “Maybe you should call Evangelina,” she proposed. It was the practical thing to suggest, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bucky than she intended.

Bucky whirled around; the fire blazed behind him. “I said I’m fine,” he barked. His dark eyes pinned her to her spot on the worn couch.

Y/N chewed her bottom lip. If he was going to get angry with her for caring, then she’d get furious right back. “If you’re so fine, then why have you been avoiding me?”

Bucky grumbled something under his breath, running his hand through his hair. “I already told you, I haven’t-”

“Bullshit.” Y/N rose from her seat. “You fucked me after that HYDRA mission and discarded me like garbage,” she fumed. “I gave you space. I’m gone not even an entire month and suddenly you have a girlfriend. Fuck you, James.”

Bucky stormed the room until he was standing in front of her. His nostrils flared as he ran his tongue along his teeth before baring his teeth. Y/N tipped her head back, daring him to put his hands on her. Bucky studied her face momentarily, their faces hairsbreadths from one another as he hissed, “Fuck. You. Y/N.” From this distance, she could see the muscles in his face twist. She knew he was pissed. Bucky pulled away. “You think you know everything. You have no idea what it's like to have someone fuck with your head.”

Y/N shoved his chest hard. Bucky didn’t even flinch. “You! You’ve been driving me insane with your games!” Her hands moved to shove him again, but he caught both of her wrists.

“Don’t,” he growled.

Y/N ripped herself free from his hold. His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, still she rubbed her wrist anyway, trying to rid her body of his touch.

“Go back to your boyfriend, Y/N,” he commanded.

Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. This version of him was a stranger. “I heard you,” she voiced softly. “That night,” she pointed to the bedroom down the hall, “when you thought I was asleep, you said you love me.”

If she wasn’t an Avenger, she wouldn’t have detected the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Bucky no longer had to wear a mask from HYDRA, but it seemed everyone except Bucky got the memo. His voice matched the stone-cold expression he wore. “I lied.”

It was the lack of sympathy in his voice that slammed the casket closed. With two little words, Bucky Barnes had buried her in the same place he made love to her.

Bucky returned to the tower after dropping Evangelina off when he stumbled across Natasha with a glass of wine in hand. She was snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching a true crime show. Since he was unsure where everyone else had gone, he settled on the spot beside Natasha.

“Long night?” Natasha questioned, side-eying the brunette.

Bucky moaned, running his hands down his face. “Long week.”

Natasha swirled her glass of wine. “There is still a bit of wine left. It won't get you drunk but it might help you relax.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will help.”

Natasha shrugged. “There’s some liquor Y/N’s boyfriend left on the counter over there.” She pointed to the nearly empty bottle across the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “He’s here?”

The red head nodded. “They just got back from dinner. She said they were going upstairs to watch a movie, but after the amount of alcohol they had, I’m sure they are doing more than that.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Bucky stiffened. “They were both drinking?”

“Yeah. The boyfriend came down a couple times to make mixed drinks. He offered me one the last time he was down here, but,” she raised her wine glass.

Before Natasha could continue, Bucky was out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. He didn’t expect Natasha to understand. People didn’t go around broadcasting their weaknesses. Y/N told him hers, despite them not being friends. It wasn’t his position to share the information. He regretted it now.

Bucky pounded his fist on the wooden door of Y/N's bedroom with a force that made the hinges creak. “Y/N, you in there? Open up,” he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. When he tried the handle and found it locked, his heart sank. “Y/N,” his voice grew more desperate. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and leaned in, straining to hear anything that might give him an indication of what was transpiring inside. Despite his repeated requests, the door remained sealed shut, and Bucky's impatience and frustration mounted with each passing second. His voice grew louder, his fists clenched tightly, as he roared for Y/N to open the goddamn door. But there was no response. Finally, Bucky stepped back, his eyes flashing with rage, preparing to kick the door down.

The door opened the second Bucky lifted his boot. A man Bucky had never seen before pushed past him, flying down the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he cried as he stepped onto the elevator.

Whiplash hit Bucky hard. His head twisted between the man on the elevator and Y/N’s open bedroom door. The second he caught sight of the man's face, he filed it away preparing to deal with him later. Bucky ran into Y/N’s room. His heartbeat drummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the TV playing in the background. He called her name, but there was no response. He scanned the entire room, finding it empty. His boot kicked a glass, the brown liquid staining the carpet. With a lump in his throat, Bucky knocked on the bathroom door and waited for half a heartbeat before he jerked the door wide open.

There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Bucky crouched down beside her. His flesh hand shook her shoulder as he called her name. No response. He rolled her onto her back, his fingers searching for the pulse on her neck. Bucky almost missed the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers. His own body was shaking. He called her name once again but was met with silence.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. send the medical unit to Y/N’s room,” his voice quivered as he addressed Tony’s artificial intelligence.

He stepped over her to turn the shower on. Leaving the sliding glass door open, he enveloped her torso in his arms, dragging her bodying into the shower. Crumbling to the floor behind her, he cradled her body under the spray of the cold water.

“Come on, Y/N. Wake up,” he pleaded. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Come on. Not like this,” his voice began shattering. Her head lulled into his chest. Bucky’s fist clenched, mindful not to crush her, as a loud sob tore through his chest. Bucky held her tighter than the clothes adhering to their skin beneath the water. He swayed her slowly as tears gushed down his face. “Come on Y/N. Come back to me,” he croaked. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Anything,” he begged, praying for a reaction. It was futile. Bucky smashed his lips onto the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. Her body was sore on the brink of death. One look around the room confirmed she nearly died. She visited the medical wing frequently between missions. The injuries she had endured on the missions were nothing in comparison to what she was experiencing now.

A pressure landing on the back of her hand had her head snapping to her side. Bucky sat with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, a prayer escaping his lips. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows searching for her last memory of Bucky.

The brunette lifted his head, running his fingers through her hair. “You scared me,” his voice was shaky, his eyes never left her face.

“Where’s-”

Bucky snarled, “Your boyfriend? Don’t worry about him, he’s an asshole.”

Y/N flinched. “He didn’t know.”

“That’s not why he’s an asshole. He ran and left you on the bathroom floor to die.” Bucky watched as Y/N processed the new information. The lack of surprise concerned him. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you know there was alcohol in your drink?”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, I didn’t, Bucky. You’re an asshole for leaving me too. I’m pissed at you. I’m not suicidal. You did your good deed. I’m alive. Now you can go back to your Angel.” She spat the last words, parodying his words from the safe house.

Bucky sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He just wanted to push her away. He pushed too far. He almost lost her. He couldn’t avoid her any longer, she deserved an explanation.

“It wasn’t a lie,” he mumbled. Part of him didn’t want her to hear it, still wanting to starve off the conversation.

“What?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His face turned serious. “I love you.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat while her face turned sour. “But I can't be with you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”

Bucky winced at the hurt in her voice. It hurt him too. That’s why he avoided the conversation for so long. “I’m too vulnerable around you. I fall back into my head way too easily. I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Then I met Ang- Evangelina and suddenly, I’m not thinking about all of the people I’ve killed, or the way HYDRA tortured me. With her, I’m living in the present.”

Y/N sat up harshly, the tears had stopped flowing a few sentences ago. “Because you won’t open up to her! You’re running from your problems and the second she’s gone, you’re gonna be stuck in your head again. Alone this time. Sorry, I was only a distraction long enough for you to fuck me. You don’t love her. You love the idea of normalcy with me!” She insisted, jabbing her finger into her chest.

Bucky closed his eyes, his head in his hands.

“For fucks sake, Bucky. She looks like me. This isn’t reality. This isn’t you. You're playing a role in some cheesy romcom. You’re letting her emulate me to fill a spot. She’s my understudy and you know it.”

Bucky ran his hands through his hair before looking up at her. Teary-eyed, he confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. I just want to be normal again.” His head rested on his bent arms, leaning against the bed. His back jolted with each sob.

Y/N rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We’re not normal Bucky. None of the Avengers are, but we’re real.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly. “You and me, we’re real.”

He wiped his tears, shaking his head, “She’s out looking for a dog for us to adopt.”

Y/N scrunched her nose. They were taking the next step. Before she knows it, they'll be moving in together, getting married, and have a kid on the way.

“I don’t even want a dog. I couldn’t take care of it with my lifestyle. It just seemed like the normal thing to do. Most families have dogs.”

Y/N hated the idea of Bucky considering a family with Evangelina. She knew him better though. “I always took you for a cat person.”

Bucky smiled at her. “Yeah? What about you? Are you a cat person?”

She nodded. “Less work to train. More realistic in our lifestyle.”

Bucky hummed. The idea of them sharing anything both scared and delighted Bucky. “What kind of cat would we get?”

The corner of Y/N’s lips turned upward. Playing along, she didn’t need to think about her answer, she had already thought about it before. “It doesn’t matter, but he’d have to be white so I could see him against all of your black clothes. Although, cat hairs might be a pain before missions.”

Bucky nodded, his elbow on the bed, propped his head up in his hand. His other hand held Y/N’s as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand as she talked. With a raised eyebrow, Bucky asked, “He?”

Y/N nodded, offended he would suggest otherwise. “You know, so I can come home to my boys. Plus, you need more friends. You two can have a guy's night while I’m away.”

“What if I want to come home to my girls?” Bucky argued.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’ll let fate decide. Whichever we find first.”

He nodded, agreeing to the compromise. “Alpine.”

“Huh?”

Bucky sighed dreamily, “The name.” It was too easy talking with Y/N about adopting a cat as if they were discussing children. It hadn’t crossed Y/N’s mind yet, but Bucky was aware that he wasn’t thinking of the past. He was thinking of the future. A future with Y/N.

Y/N snorted. It wasn’t the name she would have picked but Bucky liked it. She got to pick the color; it was only fair Bucky got to pick the name. “Alpine it is.”

Three weeks later, Bucky and Y/N welcomed Alpine to their shared room at Avengers Tower. The team melted when they met the feline. Even Evangelina. Despite the breakup, Y/N and Evangelina remained friends. The women were filled with too much grace and poise, not to. A trait Bucky had admired in both of them. It should have unsettled Bucky for them to remain friends, but Bucky knew where he belonged now. He might not know who he was or who he is now, but he was certain his future was Y/N.

1K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 6 days

Text

protector

summary | the moment bucky fell in love with you

pairing | mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warning | angst, arranged marriage, age gap, insecurity, violence, fluff ending

word count | 1.5k

You didn’t know anyone in that room. Staying flanked to Bucky’s side, letting him parade you around the room as he talked with the other men he did business with. It wasn’t no secret about what Bucky did, it was how you married him.

Being the only child, and along with being a girl, your father wanted someone to pass down his business to, though offering it to you first, declining immediately because you couldn’t be a part of the mob, Bucky was next pick.

Bucky came from his own lineage, his own family wealth, already the boss of his family business and now the head of yours. After getting married, you moved into his family estate, far from your father and mother, but having the little words of encouragement from your mother made it a little better.

“If he ever hurts you physically or mentally, his reputation be damned, I’ll get you out of there.”

Bucky was the opposite of what you expected, he was respectful towards you since the wedding, making sure to put your comfort first even though your marriage was purely transactional.

Your parents' relationship was the same, but your mother grew to love your father, and the way he worshiped her made her safe. You wanted that one day with Bucky.

Giving a small smile to all the people you passed, there were a few men murmuring to each other about your relationship, some of the women glaring at you, all the same looks you received once you were married.

It wasn’t no secret Bucky was handsome, powerful and wealthy, the whole package to women in the room, and they were envious, a little jealous.

Bucky’s arm was around your waist, squeezing you occasionally, reminding you that he was still looking out for you. Coming up to a group of men, Bucky slid his hand away from you, shaking the hand of everyone.

“And you all know my wife.” He smiled, reattaching his arm. Smiling behind your champagne glass, you just nodded, glancing over each other before your eyes widened.

Brock Rumlow.

Brock was originally supposed to marry you, but once your father heard about what he had done to a business partner's daughter, he cut ties with him. You remembered Brock in your father’s office, the two of them yelling back and forth, hiding behind a pillar, seeing him storm out the estate.

Looking out of the corner of his eye, Bucky noticed how you tensed you quickly, looking down at the ground, keeping that in his head, he whisked the two of you away.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was rough, turning so he could fully look at you.

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, not wanting to ruin his night. Bucky just looked at you, but you kept up your wall, “It’s fine, I just thought I saw something.”

Bucky knew you were lying but he wasn’t going to demand you to tell him, just nodding, “You tell me anything if somethings wrong, I don’t care.”

You just nodded, agreeing with him.

Sitting down for dinner, happy that the two of you had a table to yourselves, but seeing as everyone was looking at the two of you, mostly you, waiting for your next move, like they were waiting for you to do something wrong.

“Don’t worry about them.” Bucky whispered, “They’re just envious of you.”

That made you calm down a little bit, finishing up your dinner, making your way towards the stage.

Watching Bucky walk up, you smiled, clapping loudly for him. Standing on the edge of the room, you stayed out of eyesight from everyone, well almost everyone.

Brock had been watching you since the moment you walked in with Bucky. He knew it was you that messed up the arrangement, watching as Bucky came in at the 11th hour, taking all of it from him.

“Well, well, finally alone Mrs. Barnes.” Tensing up at his voice, you tried to get away from Brock, not being past enough, him grabbing onto your upper arm dragging you away.

“Let me go!, stop!” You tried to yell but it seemed like Bucky’s speech was ending, and as everyone started to clap, it canceled out your plea for help.

“Shut up, you bitch!” He shoved you against the wall, cornering you. Turning your face away from him, your arm starting to bruise, tears starting to cascade down your cheeks. “You ruined my life!”

“What?” You didn’t understand what he had been saying. Scoffing, Brock brought his hand to your face, smacking you across the face. Letting out a gasp, your hand instantly came up to your cheek, cradling.

“BUCKY!” You tried to yell, some sound coming out before Brock covered your mouth. You knew what he was capable of, your eyes wide, pleading for him to let you go.

“You know,” He smirked, his other hand slowly creeping up your leg, “I always wanted something from Barnes, his fortune, but I think I got a better prize tonight.”

Before anything could go further, Bucky had been looking for you since he was on stage, remembering where you were standing, seeing how you were gone. Scanning the room again, he saw how Brock was also gone, assuming the worst.

Ending his speech early, he darted off the stage, making his way towards the back of the gala, hearing you call for him.

“BUCKY!”

Eyes wide, Bucky followed the sound of your voice, running down one of the empty hallways, seeing you at the end of it. Seeing red, Bucky stormed towards Brock, shoving him off you, slamming him into the wall.

“You piece of shit.” He spit at him, his forearm pressing against neck, Brock gasping for air, “You think you come here and mess with my wife.”

“C’mon Barnes, she was asking for it.” He smirked. Bucky’s eyes hardened, stepping away from Brock, before swinging a punch to his face.

You gasped, your hands covering your mouth, not knowing what to do, if you should pull Bucky off him or go call for help, both a bad idea.

Standing there helpless, you watched as Bucky punched Brock til the point he was unconscious.

Standing up, wiping the blood from his nose, Bucky turned back to you, seeing the two bruises on you.

“Are you bleeding?” His hands were soft on your cheek, caressing the bruise carefully, not wanting to hurt you anymore.

“No.” You whispered, “But it hurts a lot.”

Saying nothing more, Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to the car, forgetting about the gala all together.

“We can’t leave.” You protested.

“Your hurt, nothing is more important.” He stated, leaving no room for you to argue. Letting you hold his hand the entire way home, your thumb slightly moved over his bruised knuckles, touching it softly like he did when he held your cheek.

Driving in the estate, barely bringing the car into park, Bucky was already out the door, coming to your side, bringing you into the bathroom.

Pulling out the first aid and medical equipment he had, setting you up on the bathroom counter, Bucky rummaged through it all.

“Nothing’s gonna make it go away.” You whispered, not wanting to get him mad, “It’ll go away on its own eventually.”

You didn’t know what caused it, but watching him freeze, his head still looking down, you heard him let out a sob.

“Bucky.” You said cautiously. Looking up at you, tears now in his eyes, Bucky couldn’t help but apologize.

“I’m sorry.” He choked, “I’m so sorry.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky cried onto your dress, his head pressed against your chest. Not really knowing what to do, you slowly cradled his head in your arms, running your hair through his hair.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, pulling him away from you, wiping away his tears. “I never told you about it and you were protecting me, that’s all I could ever do for you.”

It was like a lightbulb in both of your heads had clicked, looking into his eyes, before looking down at his lips before looking up at him again. Bucky seemed to have the same idea, slowly leaning in.

The kiss was soft, your hands still on his face, slowly moving your lips in sync with his. Pulling away, you rested your forehead onto his, smiling softly. That kiss was the first one since you were married and had been better than you imagined.

Letting out a watery laugh, Bucky stood between your legs, his hands on your waist. “I wanted to do that for so long.”

“Really.” You whispered, you always thought Bucky never really thought about a romantic relationship with you.

“And I know that we haven’t really been a married couple, and I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, letting you take the first steps. I know that I wasn’t your first choice, but I promise you, I will always make sure you’re okay, you are my number 1 priority, I didn’t marry you for your father’s chair, I married you because I knew that I could see a family with you.”

Smiling, you caressed his cheek, sighing softly. “I love you.”

Bucky always believed that he didn’t have a heart, he didn’t have any love in his body, never imagining he’d be married let alone being married to one of the most wonderful women he had ever met.

“I love you too, my love, with my whole being.”

fin.

7K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 6 days

Text

Never giving up - mob!Bucky x reader

Reader is ill on the one day Bucky said no interruptions…

TW: fight, swearing, angst, talk of fainting (think that’s it!)

Enjoy xx

The moment Y/N opened her eyes she knew something was wrong, her head throbbed and her throat felt as though she was swallowed hundreds of knives in the night. It was still dark outside, the moon not even shining through the curtains she and Bucky had hung when she first moved in. Clearing her throat with a wince she grabbed the pills she kept in the draw next to her side of the bed and swallowed them painfully. Turning back over she fell back asleep instantly

“I’ll see you tonight doll” Bucky whispered pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, Y/N blinked open her eyes and saw Bucky already dressed in a suit, one which she was sure cost more than she could even imagine making in a year, the sun was shining through the curtains and Y/N’s throbbing headache was still present but she decided against telling Bucky instead she reached out towards him

“It’s so early Buck” Y/N whined attempting to pull him back to bed

Keep reading

2K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 8 days

Text

i messed up...

pairings: bucky barnes x pregnant!reader

summary: you go against what you and bucky agreed, how will he react?

warnings: angst, pregnant reader, asshole bucky, none more i think?

word count: 1219

a/n: Bucky's a major ass in this but i have part two started if anyone is interested :)

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

part 2

masterlist

You didn’t mean to mess up this bad, you just wanted a normal day, a day where you could leave the tower alone without an Avenger there to protect you.

You knew what you signed up for when you and Bucky became official. He had told you so many times that being with him put you at risk but you didn’t care, you loved him too much to be without him. He had insisted that since that day you would have someone there to protect you at all times, you knew it was in a loving way it was a lot to handle, and ever since you and Bucky discovered you were pregnant it had only gotten more intense. You knew it was for the better but it was suffocating you, which is why you went to the store alone this morning. It wasn’t far from the tower and you would be back within the hour, surely nothing could happen in that time?

On your walk home your phone started to buzz, and not just once but it kept buzzing until you opened the chat and the messages started loading in. They were from Sam, the first was a picture of you, from just 15 minutes earlier, you were reaching up to the top shelf in the store and your shirt had risen up, making your bump slightly more visible. How someone noticed that you have no idea. The rest of the text messages were fairly calm but the last one made you panic.

Sam

where are you? let me know you’re okay please Y/n are you safe? He doesn’t know yet.

Shit. Bucky was going to be furious at you, he had told you so many times not to go out alone because of this very reason. Now everyone was going to know that you and Bucky had a baby coming. You and Bucky had both agreed that you would keep your pregnancy between as few people as possible, for the baby’s safety and now you’ve compromised that. Only the other Avengers, your family and a couple of friends knew about it.

Unintentionally you slowed your pace for the rest of your walk, sending Sam a quick text to let him know you were safe and on your way back. You were scared to face Bucky but at least you could tell him yourself before he found out online or by Sam.

It doesn’t take long even with your slow pace to get back, you hesitantly push the button for your floor, mentally preparing yourself for facing Bucky. He had been especially insistent on keeping your baby away from the public because of his long list of enemies and being a part of the Avengers meant that list was forever growing.

When the lift dings and the doors open you pause for a second before stepping out, first you check yours and Bucky’s bedroom but it’s empty so you head for the common room. When you walk in Bucky’s there, as well as Sam, Tony, Natasha and Steve. At first glance things look normal, and no one notices you walking in until you speak. “Hi..”

That’s when Bucky turns around, his jaw was clenched together, brows furrowed, anger practically seeping out of him. He knew. You want to apologise but you can’t manage to get any words out. A few seconds pass before Nat’s voice breaks the silence. “Are you okay Y/n?” You nod towards her, fidgeting with your fingers trying to distract yourself from the shouting match you knew was about to begin. You’d seen Bucky angry before but never this much and never because of you.

“Bucky, I’m so-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence before he interrupted you

“Did you not listen to anything I said to you? Did you really just ignore everything? I told you this would happen but what? You just did it anyway?“

“Buc-“ He wouldn’t listen, his words were spilling out of him. He didn’t even know what he was really saying. He was just so scared and angry at himself for not protecting you and your baby.

“You’ve seen what the people we deal with can do and you still acted like a complete idiot.” You could hear muffled sounds of Sam and Nat trying to stop him from going any further but all you could focus on was Bucky’s words.

“No. How could you make such a careless mistake?”

Your eyes were growing wetter with each word he said but you tried to keep yourself composed. You didn’t feel as if you had any right to be upset, you were the one who messed up.

“I wasn’t trying to..” You attempt to interrupt him and defend yourself but at this point you knew that was pointless.

“I mean seriously,” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words, “it’s like you don’t care about our baby at all.”

Oh. That one hurt. He had to know you cared right? Your baby was everything to you. Could he really think you didn’t care?

Tony had stayed quiet up until now. “Enough James!” He screeched from behind Bucky, “I won’t let you talk to Y/n like that, either calm down or leave my tower.”

You knew he was going to be angry at you but you were not prepared for this much of it. Bucky stares at you for a few seconds before he walks out, dropping his head down to your stomach and scoffing as he does so. Now it wasn’t just anger you felt from him, it was disappointment too.

You can’t bring yourself to move from the spot you’ve been standing in since you arrived, the only thing breaking you out of your trance was someone’s hand on your shoulder. You weren’t sure who until they spoke. “Y/n? Are you alright?”

It was Sam, you manage to turn to him and stutter out, “I‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He brings his hand up to your head and pulls you gently towards him for a much needed hug. “He’s not angry with you, he’s just scared. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I just wanted to do something for myself, I don’t want to have to rely on an Avenger everytime I want to go to the store.”

“I know, he shouldn’t have gotten angry like that. I’m not making any excuses for him but he’s never felt love like he does for you. You and this baby are everything to him, he’s scared to lose you.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Your voice is quiet, almost too quiet but Sam can just hear you.

“I know he will, he just needs some time to cool down.” You nod your head against Sam’s chest, part of you knew Bucky would forgive you but an even bigger part of you believed you had messed up too bad.

You reach into your bag and take out the small white teddy you bought, when you read the words printed on its tiny outfit you start to cry harder. It read, “Best Dad Ever”, you just hoped Bucky would forgive you so you could give it to him.

If you could go back to this morning and change your decision you would. You just want things back the way they were.

2K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 8 days

Text

i can't do this anymore

pairings: bucky barnes x y/n reader

summary: You overhear Bucky’s conversation with your friends and assume the worst but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

warnings: ANGSTTT, fluffy ending, mention of marriage, more angst “I’m sorry i can’t help it), miscommunication.

word count: 3665

a/n: I’m in serious need of miscommunication fics (I'm a sucker for angst) so I’d be grateful for any recommendations!! Enjoy <3

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :)

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

“Buck? Can you pass my clothes?” You had just stepped out of the shower and realised you left your clothes in your room, but Bucky didn’t answer. “Buck?” He still didn’t answer so you wrapped your towel around you and headed through to see the room empty. You begin to get dressed before you hear Sam’s voice from the living room, he wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. Every week Bucky and Sam took it in turns to host dinner for the three of you and Sam’s girlfriend, Olivia. This week was yours and Bucky’s turn to host and you were super excited to serve your new recipe. Hearing the voices made you even more excited, but stressed as you still had some cooking to do before they were supposed to be here. You finish getting dressed and apply a little bit of makeup as quickly as you can. These dinners weren’t formal so it didn’t take long to get ready, they were mostly just so Sam and Bucky had some comfort after their missions, especially recently with them having to deal with John Walker. You take one last look in the mirror before heading through, until you hear something that stops you in your step.

“I mean I can’t say I’m surprised.. one look at you two and it’s obvious,” Sam tried to whisper but failed. “how are you gonna do it?” Do what? You were confused what they were talking about, part of was tempted to interrupt but your curiosity took over.

“I don’t know.. It’s just..” Bucky was stuttering which he only did when he was nervous, this really made you worry about what they were talking about. “It’s just she’s different from other girls, you know? And I know we haven’t been together that long but I can’t do it anymore. Do what anymore? “It’s not like I don’t love what we have but I just feel like I need more” More? You couldn’t help but overthink what you were hearing. They were talking about you, you weren't enough for him. I mean sure you’d thought that about yourself so many times but hearing it from the man you truly thought was the love of your life hurt.

“I know what it’s like when you find the one, it’s the best feeling in the world.” You couldn’t see this but Sam had kissed Olivia’s head after his words. “This is gonna be good for you man, I’m happy for you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to hear anymore, the tears were already fighting their way out. You quietly walk back into your bedroom and try and calm down, you just had to get through tonight, just tonight and then you and Bucky could talk. You were at your happiest with Bucky, you thought Bucky was too but.. you didn’t even want to finish that thought. Bucky’s happiness was the most important thing to you, and if that meant he wasn’t with you anymore you would have to find a way to get through that. No matter how hard it would be for you, you just wanted him to be happy.

You took a few minutes to compose yourself, your eyes were red and a little puffy but not enough for anyone to notice. You hoped anyway. This time when you left your bedroom you made sure to close the door loud enough so they could hear you coming and hopefully change the subject.

“Hey guys, you’re early.” you said as you walked in, Sam and Olivia both stood up to give you a hug as you came in.

“Yeah sorry we were just a couple blocks over and it didn’t make sense going all the way back home just to come out again,” Sam replied with a smile. “Buck said it was okay.”

“Of course it is, you guys are always welcome, you know that!” You were surprisingly good at keeping how you really felt hidden, but with your words you couldn’t help but think you would lose Sam and Olivia as friends when Bucky ended things between you, they were technically Bucky’s friends first but you’d grown to see them as practically family as your relationship grew. You tried to push that thought away, you just had to get through tonight you kept repeating to yourself in your head.

“You okay doll?” Bucky asks as he wraps his arms around you. You plaster on a smile hoping he wouldn’t sense anything being wrong.

“Course! Just need to check on the food.” Normally Bucky’s touch helped you in situations like this but with what you heard his touch was only making you feel worse. You manage to untangle yourself from his arms and head to the kitchen. You notice that the ingredients and glasses were still laying out for the drinks you’d planned to make. “Do you guys want any drinks?”

“Yes please!” Sam and Bucky replied at the same time.

“I’ll help you.” you heard Olivia say through the wall. It only takes a couple seconds before she’s standing next to you in the kitchen. You and Olivia were like best friends, and she’s the reason you and Bucky were together. You had worked together for a few years, you drifted a little when she left that job but it only took one reunion dinner to get your friendship back to normal. That was 2 years ago, and from that night on she had insisted on setting up you and Bucky. It took a while for the meeting to actually happen but once it did you knew he was the one for you. Was. Not anymore.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Olivia asks quietly, she was aware of Bucky’s super soldier hearing and wanted to talk to you alone.

You nodded and forced another smile. “Just a busy week, my boss is still being a dick.”

“Ugh, you deserve so much better than having to work for that guy. He’s a creep.” She said at a normal volume now. “You should send Bucky after him, make him know he can’t treat you like that just cause he’s the boss.” She brings her hands up to put air quotes around ‘boss’, as he’s only technically the boss for the month while your real boss was on vacation.

“I’ll manage.” You tried to play it off, you wouldn’t have Bucky there to help you soon, and you needed to stand up for yourself.

“You know he would do anything for you.”

“You think?”

“Yep. I mean have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“Hmm.” you mumbled. “Here,” You pass her two glasses with drinks in it. “take these and I’ll bring the other two once i’ve checked the food.”

“Okay,” She starts to walk about but turns at the last minute, “It smells good by the way, I can’t wait.”

“Thanks” you laughed as she walked away. She could tell there was something different with you tonight but she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, it felt like it was more than just your boss being a dick.

You tried to take as long as you could checking the food without it being too long that someone would notice. After just under 10 minutes you walk through. “Dinner should only be a little longer.” You pass a glass to Bucky and keep one for yourself, normally you’d sit close to Bucky but tonight you kept your distance, opting for the armchair in the corner. Bucky thought this was weird but he kept it to himself.

“So, what did I miss?” You hoped they would somehow be able to explain away what you heard but your hope didn’t last long as they started to talk about Sam’s plans to get a lizard.

“Sam, we’re not getting a lizard,” Olivia replied, “if you insist on getting a pet why can’t it be a normal one like a cat or a dog.” This only reminded you of the plans you and Bucky made to adopt a cat, this was torture. Everything was reminding you of what you were about to lose.

“I’ll look after it babe, you won’t even have to touch it.” Sam tried pleading.

“And when you’re away on missions?” Olivia argued back playfully.

“Okay, you got me.” You laughed a little at Sam releasing this was one battle he was going to lose. “What about you guys? You still planning on getting a cat?”

Bucky looked at you as Sam asked the question, how were you supposed to answer this when you didn��t even know the answer anymore, luckily Bucky notices the panic on your face and jumps in to answer.”

“Yeah man, we just have to find the time to get to the shelter.”

“See,” He turns his head to his left, staring at his girl, “Y/n let’s Bucky get the pet he wants.” He was only teasing, he knew logically he couldn’t get a lizard but it was fun to pretend.

“Lizards and cats are not the same thing.”

“Y/n/n help me out here please” Sam pleads to you.

“Sorry Sam, I’m on Olivia's side here.” You reply whilst laughing.

“Traitor” he mumbles under his breath making everyone laugh. Bucky noticed it wasn’t your real laugh but he wasn’t sure why. Normally you loved bantering back and forth with them.

You kept on chatting for 20 minutes before the oven timer went off, just in time as Bucky was about to tell an embarrassing story about you.

“Ah! Saved by the bell” you joked.

“Don’t think I won’t forget to tell it after dinner!” Bucky shouts through, and you can’t help but laugh before thinking about it deeper. Was that one of the things he couldn’t do anymore, was he really embarrassed by you?

You tried so hard to push those thoughts away and focus on getting through the dinner, you started plating up the food you were so excited about only an hour before. But you got lost in your thoughts again and picked up the hot tray with your bare hand, burning yourself in the process. “Shit.” The tray fell to the floor, luckily you had already plated everything and you were just moving it to the sink. Bucky rushes through and sees the tray on the ground and you gripping your hand towards your chest.

“What happened?” He comes towards you but you walk back away from him. “What’s wrong?” You could see the worry in his eyes but all you could think about was his words earlier. I can't do it anymore.

“I’m fine, Bucky.” You didn’t mean to but you snapped back at him.

“You’re not fine.” he moves closer and tries to reach for your hand but you pull it closer to you, he notices and steps back. “Y/n?” You don’t say anything. “Look please just run your hand under some cold water at least, please?”

“Can you just take the food through, I’ll be there in a minute.” You tried to hide the shakiness in your voice but he could hear it. This brought him back to the start of your relationship, you both struggled to open up to each other but he thought you had both gotten better at it, which is why he was extra worried.

He nodded, you hated yourself for being the reason he was sad, he didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay doll, just know I’m here for you okay?” You nodded but kept your gaze to the floor. He first grabs the tray with his left hand and puts it in the sink then picks up the plates and brings them through, having to make two trips. He doesn’t want to leave you but he wants to give you the space you asked for. You run your hand under the cold tap for a couple of minutes before drying it off and making your way to the table.

“You okay y/n?” Sam asks as you sit down next to Bucky, there were only 4 seats at the table so sitting next to him was your only option. Bucky turns to you, concern filling his eyes, he sends a smile your way and you try to send one back. He went to put his hand on your thigh but you see him stop himself and bring it back to his leg.

“Yeah, all good, just burnt my finger on a tray. How’s the food?”

“It’s amazing as always.” Olivia answers.

“Thanks again for having us over.” Sam adds

“It’s a new recipe, and no need to thank me. You know you are both welcome here anytime.” You reply, happy that they like it.

“Tastes great Doll.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost like he was scared to speak, he had a slight smile growing as you turned to him.

“Thank you Bucky.”

The rest of the night went just like that, the four of you spoke about planning a trip to New Orleans, you felt yourself get excited about it but then grounded yourself, reminding yourself that it probably wouldn’t go ahead. Well, it maybe would, you just wouldn’t be there. Sam and Olivia stayed for a couple more hours, they couldn’t stay as late as usual as Olivia had picked up an early shift at work the next day. When they left you saw Sam and Bucky whisper something to each other, but you were too far to hear anything.

Now you and Bucky were alone, it had just been the two of you for 10 minutes and none of you had broken the silence until now.

“Y/n?” Bucky asks quietly, testing the atmosphere. You took the shakiness in his voice as a sign he was angry, when it was really because he was worried about you. You don’t say anything but bring your head up so you could see him. “Can we talk?” Oh god. This was it. He was gonna do it right now. You weren’t ready, you never would be but you couldn’t do this right now.

“Bucky, I’m really tired, could we talk in the morning?” You were desperately hoping he would say yes.

“Yeah..” He stands up and walks towards the bathroom, stopping slightly at you but speeds up again after a moment. “I’m gonna quickly shower then I’ll come to bed.”

“Okay.” Almost a whisper but he heard it.

You go through to your room and get changed, ignoring the mess in the kitchen. That was something you’d worry about tomorrow. You crawled into bed, facing the wall and tried to force the sleep to take over. It doesn’t take long for Bucky to come in next to you, you feel him hesitate but he wraps his arms around you and brings his mouth around to kiss your forehead. “I love you.”

You hoped he’d think you were sleeping, and not know you were pretending. You tried to find comfort in his touch but it only reminded you that this time tomorrow you probably wouldn’t have him wrapped around you. You could feel your eyes growing wetter as you thought about this but you forced yourself to stop before it turned into a full meltdown. That would for sure wake Bucky up. So you sat there in silence, sometimes you could hear a quiet mechanical murmur from Bucky’s arm, and sometimes the one big deep breath he takes every few minutes. By the time morning comes you only got about an hour of sleep, you were exhausted and anxious for what was going to happen today.

“Doll?” he pauses for a minute waiting for an answer, “Are you up?”

“Yeah, I'm up.” You don’t turn around to face him like you normally would, you keep your eyes on the wall.

“I was thinking we could go to your favourite cafe today? The one with the-” You interrupt him and turn around to face him, sitting cross legged.

“It’s okay Bucky.” He’s confused about what you mean so he stays quiet hoping you'll continue which you do. “I heard you talking with Sam and Olivia..” Bucky’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“You heard us?” Shit. He wanted it to be a surprise.

“I did. So can you just do it now? Get it over and done with, so we can both move on.”

“What? You want me to do it right now?”

“Yes. Please, just do it.” You knew you were coming across harsh but you needed this torture to end.

“Erm. Okay..” He stood up out of bed and walked over to his dresser, and started to dig through one of his drawers. “This isn’t really how I pictured doing this and I thought you’d be more excited but..” Excited? Why would you be excited over losing him? Once he finds what he was looking for he walks back over and brings himself down to his knees beside the bed.

“Bucky what-”

“My turn to talk doll..” What the hell was happening. “Y/n, you have been the best thing in my life since the very first day I met you. It might sound cliche but you’re the missing piece I always thought I’d never find. I know this might seem fast but..” He pulls a small box from behind his back. Oh my god. He was proposing. What. You wanted to stop him but the words wouldn’t come out, it was like your mouth was glued shut. “.. I don’t think I could ever feel happier than I do right now with you but It would mean the absolute world to me if you-”

“Wait!! Stop!” Bucky’s smile dropped. He’d been scared to ask you but he didnt think rejection was actually a possibility.

“What?” You stood up and started pacing back and forth, panic setting in.

“Oh my god Bucky. Stand up!” He stood up slowly and closed the ring box, the loud click making things even realer. “Bucky, what were you talking about with Sam and Olivia?”

“I thought you heard me? I was telling them I wanted to propose, I want to spend the rest of my time with you. This definitely isn't how I wanted it to go. I’m sorry if I.. I thought you’d want this too.”

“Oh my god Bucky. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed up.” You were beginning to lose control of your breathing and your eyes were starting to burn, you were still pacing back and forth. “I thought you wanted to end things, I thought you were done with us.”

“What?! Why did you think that?” He had never been so confused in his whole life.

“You told them you wanted more, and.. that I wasn’t like other girls.. and..” The tears had escaped now and it was hard to talk properly. “and you said you couldn’t do this a-anymore.”

“Oh baby.” Bucky walks over to you and pulls you gently to the bed, he sits next to you but keeps one of his arms wrapped around you. “I did say those things but not in the way you think. Did you listen to the rest of what we said?” You shook your head, which only made your growing headache worse. “When I said I wanted more I was talking about marrying you, in case you haven't figured that out by the -I don’t even know if i can call that a proposal- but doll, I want to marry you, I wanted to show you how much I love you and how serious I was about us.” He tries to turn himself slightly so he can see your face properly.

“I was right when I said you aren’t like other girls, I don’t want you to be like anyone else. I want you to be you, my girl. The girl I fell in love with the first day I met you. I’ve been planning to propose for a while but I couldn’t keep it in any longer, that’s what I meant when I said I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t wait any longer to ask you. I love you so much, doll.”

Oh god. You were so embarrassed. You had gotten everything so wrong. “Bucky, I'm so sorry. I didn’t, I don’t want things to end with us. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay baby, really it’s okay. I just wished you’d talked to me about it. You can come to me about anything, you know what right?”

“I do, I promise. I just panicked. I thought I was going to lose you.” Your breathing had started to slow down and you felt like you had control over it again.

“Nope. You’re never getting rid of me. I love you too much for that,” He brought his face down to yours and brushed your noses together before wrapping his arms tightly around you. “And I missed you way too much to ever let go of you again.”

“I love you too, Buck, so much.. but you’re squeezing me.” For the first time since you heard their conversation you had a real smile on your face and you laughed at him holding you so tight. You were happy. Bucky was happy.

“There’s the laugh I missed so much. Oh and,” he pulled away just for a second to look into your eyes, placing each of his hands on your shoulders and with a serious voice spoke again, “don’t for one second think that’s how my real proposal will go, I’m gonna make it special, just like you deserve.” he pulls you into his arms and lays you both down.

“I can’t wait, but before you do that..”

“Mhmm?”

“Can we go to the shelter today? I think it’s about time we got that cat.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me doll”

Maybe it wasn’t healthy how much yours and Bucky’s happiness relied on each other but for you two it worked. Things were perfect.

5K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 8 days

Text

the way you WRITE??? They way you portray characters?????

girl you’re A GODDESS.

I Wanna Be Yours

Summary: You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Shy!Insecure!Reader

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: Casual sex (?), misunderstandings, self-deprecation

A/N: I’m actually not very happy with how this turned out but I hope some of you might enjoy it anyway?

Word count: 4.8k

You had never fallen in love before until you met Bucky.

You had spent your whole life wondering when it would happen to you - when you would feel that heart-racing, mind-blowing, bliss-inducing love that you saw so often in movies and read in novels.

Falling for him had been unexpected, like you had been turning corners in an endless maze until suddenly - there he was. This unbelievably talented, unique, intelligent man who treated you with respect and kindness. He showed interest in you when you were too shy to approach him first, talking to you about the everyday mundane, making you feel special. Out of all the incredible people Bucky knew and interacted with, he made you feel like you counted, too.

You worked as a lab tech at the Avengers compound since landing the coveted job two years ago, working closely with Bruce Banner, and had witnessed first hand when Bucky joined the team. He had been quiet at first, introverted, but you watched as he blossomed like a flower. He revealed more of his great sense of humour, wicked smile and subtle charm which made you fall for him.

When you were around him, you felt like your nerve endings were on fire. Every touch from him on your arm, your shoulders, the small of your back, sent pulses shooting through your body and a flush of red straight to your cheeks. The power he had over you was undeniable, and you were certain he knew it, too.

The moment you realised you were in trouble was on a Saturday afternoon, four months after you first met him. He returned to the compound one day with a nasty gash on his forehead and blood crusting his hands, his eyes tired and face pale. The moment you saw him, you knew that if anything were to happen to him, you would have no idea how to cope. Even seeing him with relatively minor injuries made your chest clench in fear and anxiety.

Without a doubt, you had finally fallen in love.

Your first time with Bucky was unexpected. He was perched on one of the counters in your lab, snacking on a pack of cashews as he watched you peer into a microscope. You could barely focus on the work at hand, hyper aware of his presence and ocean blue eyes on your form.

“You’re not supposed to eat in here, you know,” you murmured, trying to hide your smile.

“I know,” he countered, continuing to chew obnoxiously.

You had been harbouring your secret feelings for him for over a year and a half. With every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to figure out what to do. Sometimes you felt that he reciprocated them - the constant flirting, the close touches, the excuses he made to spend time alone with one another. But you were too afraid to ask him outright how he felt about you, and too shy to make the first move.

“How’s your leg?” you asked, if only to distract yourself from your thoughts, referring to the injury he had received a few days ago.

“Much better. Strong as ever.” He kicked it out suddenly as to punctuate his words.

“Hey,” you exclaimed, alarmed. “I wish you would be more careful. Seems you’re always getting patched up lately.” You were frowning, and Bucky seemed amused at your concern.

“Occupational hazard.”

“Whatever. Just don’t bust open your stitches and bleed all over my lab. It’s just been sanitized.” You sniffed as Bucky cocked his head at you, flashing his adorable grin. “In fact I’m violating several health and safety rules just allowing you to be in here,” you said, trying to keep your face straight as Bucky threatened to tease a smile from you.

You turned back to the work at hand, working in comfortable silence as Bucky observed you. He soon seemed restless, however, and you looked up again when he jumped off his perch and walked over to you, bumping you with his shoulder. He smelled so good - like the forest after it had just rained. He looked down at you, giving you one of his trademark dimpled smiles yet again.

“What?”

“I’m bored,” he shrugged.

“Don’t you have top secret, dangerous mission stuff to do?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Your heart was beating fast as he leaned closer suddenly, eyes flickering from yours down to your mouth. He had been doing that a lot as of late.

“Rather do something else,” he said quietly, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

Time stood still. He suddenly closed the distance between you, and then you were kissing. His lips were soft, his hands gentle as they raised to cradle your face, sliding into your hair.

Your hands raised on their own accord to grab the edges of his leather jacket, pulling him closer, feeling surreal as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away just long enough for you to ask breathlessly, “Is this actually happening?”

All he did was chuckle and pull you back against him again.

You were positively floating as Bucky grabbed your hand and led you to his private floor in the compound, into his bedroom. You thought you were dreaming when he lay you down softly on his bed, undressing you both because your hands were shaking.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, eyes searching your face as you nodded.

“Yes,” you said instantly. “It’s okay.”

That night, you had sex with him for the first time. He held you tightly as he thrust inside you, peppering your face with kisses, making you whimper with pleasure until you both reached the inevitable climax.

You felt you could die happy now as you fell asleep in Bucky’s arms, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

Insecurity was an ugly thing.

You woke up a couple of hours before Bucky, lying with your eyes wide open as the ink black sky slowly lightened, the sun bleeding across the horizon.

You looked at this man lying beside you - this perfect specimen, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept, his chiselled jawline, ruggedly handsome features. The reality of what had happened was slowly sinking in, bringing with it doubts and questions as to what this meant.

God, he was so beautiful. So perfect in literally every way. You were fully aware of his contrast to you.

You had never considered yourself a beautiful girl. You had always been very conscious of your flaws, the way your body didn’t look quite the way you wanted it to, the way you felt that no one really gave you a second look.

I’m bored, Bucky had said yesterday. Were you just a cure for his boredom?

You gnawed at your bottom lip, uncertainties flooding into your system as you recalled the conversation and events leading up to the steamy encounter yesterday. Had he pulled you tighter against him, or had you simply imagined it? Did he do this all the time, or were you an exception?

People had causal sex all the time. You knew that Natasha and Steve had fooled around before and continued as friends only, and a lot of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents you knew had been known to sleep around interdepartmentally, lending to some interesting work gossip.

You knew you were stupid to let yourself think something serious might be happening. You and Bucky hadn’t even spoken about feelings or been on anything which remotely resembled a date. Bucky had been a proper charmer back in the day, you were well aware.

Your heart plummeted as you continued to think. You were suddenly so relieved you hadn’t revealed your feelings for him last night in your stupor. You had been so happy to be held by him, to be kissed by him, but that’s all it was - just a bit of fun. It had to be.

You felt Bucky stir beside you eventually, and you clutched the covers close to your naked body as he opened his eyes and smiled at you lazily.

What was the proper etiquette? Were you supposed to leave as soon as possible?

“Morning,” he said huskily. He looked so adorable that the panic in your chest quelled momentarily.

“Morning,” you smiled.

He yawned, his dark hair unruly as he ran his fingers through it.

“What’s the time?”

You cleared your throat. “Just gone seven. I have an early meeting with Bruce.”

“Mmm. Okay. You have to go now?” He looked at you with what may have been disappointment.

“I should probably get going, yeah. Need to prepare,” you said, eyes scanning the room for your clothes as you blushed at the thought of dressing in front of Bucky, even though he had seen you in all your naked glory last night.

Bucky suddenly moved in close and kissed you, causing your breath to hitch. You felt self conscious about how worn out you probably looked first thing in the morning, but melted into his touch nonetheless.

"Are we going to do this again?" he managed to get out against your lips.

"If you like," you answered carefully.

"I would very much like."

“Me too,” you said shyly, pulling back from Bucky and ducking your head down.

"So you're okay with this?"

Your heart constricted then, wanting to shout loudly that no, it’s not okay, and you actually wanted a serious relationship. But how terrifying would that be to suddenly dump your confessions onto him when the poor man had no idea how you felt?

But you didn’t know what was worse. Just being friends with benefits, or actually confessing your true feelings and pushing him away completely.

“Sure,” you said finally, keeping your voice purposely light. “It’s just sex, Bucky. It’s okay.”

Bucky froze then, his expression unreadable as he stared at you. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together, his lips stiffening as he swallowed.

“What?” you asked carefully, feeling inexplicably nervous.

Bucky was silent for a beat before responding. “Nothing.” He gestured between you with his vibranium hand, frowning ever so slightly. “This is nothing. Right?”

He wanted affirmation. You felt shame flood your chest.

“Right,” you said weakly, turning away before Bucky could see the tears in your eyes. “I better get going.”

He didn’t say anything as you hurriedly pulled on your clothes and mumbled an imperceptible “Bye” before you let yourself out.

As it turned out, it didn’t happen again.

You had no idea what you had done or how you had messed it up, but you had.

You had never done this before. Never casually hopped into bed with a man without something greater at play. You had one ex-boyfriend from your college days who was sweet but you were never truly in love with, and sex with him had happened a few months into your relationship.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to act around Bucky anymore. Didn’t know what he even wanted.

You thought he just wanted a fling. No strings attached. But after that day, somehow, the two of you were never alone again.

He gave you small, if a little curt, smiles now and again and sometimes spoke to you about work-related matters if necessary, but everything else had suddenly disappeared.

A monstrous, ugly feeling gnawed a hole in your chest, slowly over the next two weeks until it was a gaping cavern. Had you messed it up so badly that Bucky just wasn’t interested anymore? Or worse - had it been his objective all along to just get you into bed and then disappear?

No, he wasn’t like that, you decided, quickly dismissing the thought. The only logical conclusion, then, was that your performance had been so poor that he just didn’t want to be intimate again, but didn’t know how to tell you.

You felt so lost. This isn’t what you wanted, not really. You were never one for casual sex, and yet it killed you how Bucky was avoiding you now. You’d rather reduce yourself to his fuck buddy than nothing. That one night with him had been magical, had made you think about an entire lifetime of mornings waking up beside him.

Your misery was clear to see to all those around you, particularly Bruce, whom you had become very good friends with since you worked together in such close proximity.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, exactly two weeks after your night with Bucky. You were prodding about with some equipment you were working on for Sam’s wings. “And don’t just say you are, because I can tell you’re not.”

You shrugged half heartedly. “I guess I’m not. But I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You might feel better,” Bruce said, approaching you with a sympathetic tilt of the head. “You know I don’t usually pry, but I’m kind of worried. I can tell you’re upset.”

“Not upset,” you lied quickly, meeting his eyes. “Just…I need to get out of my own head, maybe.”

Bruce studied your face carefully but didn’t delve any further. “Tell you what. Maybe you’ll feel better tonight at the party.”

You wanted to groan loudly. Tony’s annual charity gala. You had looked forward to it before, the prospect of dressing up and maybe getting a dance with Bucky, but you weren’t quite in the party mood anymore. Still, you decided to maintain as positive of a mindset as you could, returning Bruce’s smile and promising yourself that you’d try and have a good time.

You left work with a slightly reinvigorated mindset as you headed back to your apartment to get changed. Maybe tonight could be a chance to relight that spark with Bucky again - if not that way, then you at least wanted some assurance that you were still friends.

You tried your best to uplift your mood whilst you got ready. You changed into a silky blue dress, one which complimented Bucky’s eyes, you realised. Perhaps this had been in your subconscious the day you’d picked it out. It was a long number, quite form fitting with a modest slit up the leg. You tried hard with your makeup and jewellery, the idea of impressing Bucky at the forefront of your mind as you tried to steady your racing heart every time he popped into your head.

Observing yourself in the mirror, you smoothed down the sides of your dress and tried to practice your smile. You managed to leave your apartment in a much better, optimistic state as you hailed a cab to take you to the gala venue.

It was being held in a new building commissioned by Tony next to Central Park, extravagant enough to rival the Met. You walked into the marble lobby, gaping at the high, vaulted ceilings and chandeliers hanging everywhere for just a moment, before you began searching the crowd for a familiar face.

You found yourself mingling with your other fellow lab techs who were buzzing with excitement to be invited to such an event, and you suppressed a frown as 30 minutes passed with no sign of Bucky.

Eventually, the crowd filtered into the main room filled with round tables where dinner would be served, and a huge glass bar which stretched along one side of the room. People were still socialising before food was to be served, and your eyes were roving non-stop, unable to focus on proper conversation with anyone.

Finally, just when your hope was dissipating, you saw him. He was standing in the middle of the crowded bar, clad in a black tux. This was the first time you had ever seen him in such an outfit, and it took your breath away. He held a flute of champagne in one hand, a complete vision and so different to how you usually saw him, typically fresh off the battlefield in his combat gear.

He was talking to Sam who had his back towards you. Bucky’s expression was unreadable but, as if sensing your burning eyes on him, he glanced towards you.

He did a double take, pausing mid-sentence to Sam, and you held your breath. He gave you a polite, if slightly terse, smile. He turned his attention away from you again, and your heart clenched.

It hurt more than you thought it would. It was just a tiny gesture, and he had acknowledged you, but why did it cause you pain?

No. Stop overthinking. You excused yourself from your colleagues and found yourself walking towards Bucky and Sam, reminding yourself that you were friends. You spoke to Bucky all the time - okay, maybe not in the last couple of weeks, but you had nothing to be afraid of. Just act normal.

“Hey guys,” you said lightly, watching as Bucky cleared his throat and gave you that same, tight smile.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sam beamed, giving you a one armed hug. “You look stunning.”

You smiled shyly, twisting your hands together as you looked at Bucky.

“Thanks. You both look very handsome.”

As if answering your prayers for alone time with Bucky, you heard Clint in the distance beckon for Sam to go over, and he excused himself, leaving you two stood in a slightly awkward silence.

Bucky raised his champagne and took a sip as you tried to get him to meet your eyes.

“How have you been?” you asked finally. “Haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

Bucky shrugged, finally looking at you. “Been okay. Busy.”

You felt frustration rising. Usually he would be telling you all about the things that had occurred in his day, his daily arguments with Sam, anything and everything in between. But now he spoke to you as if you were merely acquaintances.

“Listen. Did I do something wrong?” you said finally, surprising yourself by cutting to the chase. You just wanted Bucky back, and you let your desperation take over.

Bucky seemed taken aback at your forward approach, but he composed himself quickly.

“Nothing,” he said, his tone ever so slightly blunt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You felt like you were going to cry. You didn’t know how just a fortnight ago, you and Bucky had been locked in a passionate cinch in his bed, and now he was completely icing you out.

“Okay,” you said, deflating slightly. You knew that if he didn’t want to tell you, there was nothing you could do to squeeze it out of him.

“I’m gonna go take a seat,” he muttered, giving you one last look before he walked away.

You quickly hurried back to your colleagues, embarrassment searing your insides.

The evening passed painfully slowly. You found yourself sat quietly at your table after dinner service had ended and people were either having drinks, chatting out on the balconies or dancing in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt the gala could not get any worse. Until it did.

Natasha and Bucky were in the middle of the dance floor, swallowed up in the sea of couples and yet standing out due to their striking attractiveness. Natasha was dressed in a short, tight black dress, so simple and yet so gorgeous. Her red hair was straight and sleek, and she looked up at Bucky as they danced, his signature almost-cocky smile on his lips. A smile which he had not shown you since that day.

Natasha was effortlessly beautiful. She didn’t even have to try and she could get any man she wanted. Bucky included, obviously. You watched their movements closely as they danced, how they spoke to each other in low voices.

The emotions rising in your chest was like bile in your throat. It burned, it hurt, and it was able to illicit a terrible response in your brain.

You felt so ridiculous.

The dress you had on suddenly felt too tight, too uncomfortable around your stomach. You caught sight of your reflection in one of the large, ornate mirrors hanging off the walls and suddenly felt so ugly. You had tried so hard tonight, and for what? Bucky had barely given you ten seconds of his attention, and at the end of the day, no amount of effort could make you feel beautiful.

You didn’t know how you could’ve let yourself believe in something more. You had to make every effort to even just feel somewhat presentable, but women like Natasha didn’t have to. She was stunning and talented and intelligent, the obvious choice.

God knows why you had been questioning Bucky’s lack of attention. Maybe you had simply been misinterpreting your closeness all along.

You stood then, not wanting to cry in front of an audience. No one would notice you early departure anyway.

You left the ballroom, almost tripping in your stupid heels as you collected your things from the cloakroom.

Shrugging on your heavy coat as you marched through the empty lobby, you yelped in pain as you rolled your ankle clumsily, sending you crashing gracelessly onto the floor. You cursed, coat half-hanging off your body as you felt tears spring to your eyes.

It was the last straw. You were crying as you tried to stand, ankle throbbing, feeling mildly grateful that there was no one around to witness your childish episode. You thought you might have heard someone calling your name, but you ignored it, the roaring in your ears failing to stop.

Your tears didn’t cease, not even when you finally made it back home, ripping off the dress as soon as you could and crawling into the safety of your bed.

Bucky finally found you the next day in your lab on your lunch break. You were startled to see him appear in the doorway, your eyes tired and swollen from a night of crying. You hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“Bruce isn’t here,” was the first thing you said.

He looked almost annoyed as he walked in and said, “Wasn’t looking for him.”

“Oh. What do you want?” The words came out harsher than you intended. Bucky definitely looked annoyed now, a scowl fixed on his face.

He shook his head. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“Bucky!” Your voice came out loud and sharp as he turned back around. Frustration erupted. “You know what - you have no right to behave this way.”

“Excuse me?” He turned to look at you incredulously, forehead creasing.

“The way you’ve been treating me - the past few weeks since that night - you just ignore me now,” you were practically spluttering, all your feelings fighting to pour themselves out at once. “It’s horrible. I thought we were friends.”

“We were,” he said, looking almost torn.

“It’s not fair.” Your eyes were stinging and you were mortified, hurriedly lifting your hands to wipe them.

“Are you crying?” Bucky asked softly, looking nervous.

“Yes,” you snapped. “I thought we were close - I thought you liked me.” You were humiliated at your confession but ploughed on. “I thought that night meant something. But you -”

“Woah, hang on -”

“Don’t interrupt me!” you huffed.

Bucky took you in his arms, pulling you into his chest as you tried to pull back.

“Calm down,” he grunted, holding you still as you let out an exasperated noise. “Breathe.”

You knew he wouldn’t let up, so you let your anger reduce to a simmer as you focused on breathing steadily.

“Good girl.”

His presence was comforting despite your anger and frustration towards him. He always made you feel safe.

“I thought you liked me,” you repeated in a quiet voice. You were staring at his chest, refusing to look at him.

“I do,” he said, his voice tight.

“No, I thought you liked me as more than a friend.”

Bucky pulled back, lifting two figures under your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Can we rewind?” His request was soft. “Tell me. What did that night mean to you?”

“Are you really going to make me do this?”

His silence spoke volumes.

You tried not to let your frustration get the better of you. “I really like you, Bucky. I’m not a girl who enjoys sex with no strings attached. Especially not with you. I mean, I enjoyed the sex -” you blushed violently, “- but I - I want more.” Your words were rushed and you stared at the empty spot above his head, wanting to die from embarrassment.

“More?” he promoted.

“A relationship,” you clarified. “I know that’s not what you want. And that’s fine. But if we could at least just go back to how we were, where you actually spoke to me and spent time with me, I would really like that. Because I miss you.”

Bucky looked perplexed as he released you, mouth opening wordlessly. Finally, he uttered, “I don’t want that.”

Searing pain burst inside you, and your face crumpled.

“No, no, no,” he said hurriedly as your vision blurred. “I mean - I don’t want to be friends, because I want to be together. I want a relationship.”

“With me?” you asked, confusion marring your face.

“With you.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said instantaneously. “Are you joking? This isn’t funny.”

“Would I joke about something like that?”

“You said you were bored,” you blurted. “You asked me if I was ‘okay with this’.” As you spoke, you realised how groundless your assumptions actually might be, but you refused to believe the alternative - that Bucky genuinely wanted to be with you.

Bucky threw his hands up in the air, looking defensive. “You said it was ‘just sex’! I never at any point told you that this was just fun for me.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Bucky dragged a hand over his face, sighing. “Okay, I think we may have had a breakdown in communication.”

“But I don’t get it,” you insisted. “Why would you want to be with me? I saw you with Natasha last night.”

“Dancing,” he said indignantly. “Just dancing.”

“You didn’t dance with me,” you shot back. “I - I only went to that dumb thing because I wanted you to ask me to dance.”

Bucky looked pained, biting down on his lower lip with regret. “I didn’t know.”

“I wanted to look nice for you,” you confessed quietly.

“You did. You were gorgeous.”

You laughed humourlessly. Bucky frowned.

“I’m being serious.”

“Sure.” You genuinely didn’t believe him.

“Stop that and look at me,” he said sharply.

His eyes were filled with both annoyance and affection, making you falter. You didn’t say anything when he sighed and stroked your hair.

“I wanted to tell you how beautiful you were. But I just couldn’t bear to be near you. I thought you just wanted something casual. And I don’t think I can handle that.”

“I can’t handle that either,” you confessed. “I really want to be with you, Bucky.”

Bucky beamed then upon hearing your words, relief washing over his face.

“Really?”

How could he ever doubt that? You smiled and nodded, but your smile was fragile and faded at the thought of Bucky and Natasha dancing last night. Even if there was nothing untoward happening, you still felt that he should be with someone as equally impressive as Natasha.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “I want to be with you, but at the same time, I don’t know why you would want to be with me.”

Bucky frowned. “Is it that hard to understand?”

You didn’t say anything, so Bucky continued, “I thought you knew how I felt. I’ve been making it pretty damn obvious these past few months.”

“I thought you were just being nice,” you mumbled. “I did think, sometimes, maybe you had feelings for me, but then I decided it just didn’t make sense.”

“Tell me why,” Bucky said gently.

You took a deep breath, knowing you could be vulnerable around him. “I’ve never felt that I was good enough for you. I feel so average, so normal. And you - well, you’re you. So outstanding in every way.”

Bucky shook his head, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He smiled slightly when you blushed in response, skin flaming.

“Listen to me. Do you know how I view myself? I’m completely flawed, my morals are sometimes questionable, I’ve done terrible things -”

You were shaking your head vehemently in disagreement, and he smiled.

“See? You’re proving my point. We’re our own biggest critics. And maybe you don’t see how amazing you are, but I do. And I want you. I have pretty good taste, you know.” The way he looked at you made your self-doubt falter - he was observing you like you were so precious, the softness and tenderness in his face making your heart flutter.

You smiled then, Bucky taking a step closer, dipping his head to whisper against your lips.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life convincing you how brilliant you are, if that’s what it takes.”

4K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 8 days

Text

Protector

Summary: When Steve gets injured on the field protecting you, Bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of Steve’s arms around you.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader, platonic Steve x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff (y'all know we only do happy endings here)

Warnings: Jealous Bucky, Bucky being slightly mean to reader out of over-protectiveness, minor character injury, I’m not very good at writing action scenes I apologize 🙇🏻‍♀️

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: My creative juices are floooowing lately! I have so many ideas saved in my drafts 😭 Please let me know if you liked this one!

"On your feet. Again." Steve’s voice was authoritative, demanding, as per usual. He gestured his hand at you as you lay on your back, skin gleaming with sweat.

You gave him a faux-scowl, the muscles in your legs shaking with exhaustion as you forced yourself to stand, hands bracing themselves on your knees.

"Wait. Need a breather," you said, shaking your head. Your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and Bucky's fingers itched to neatly sweep the strands back from out of your face.

He watched silently from one side of the room, observing your sparring session with Steve. He was going pretty tough on you, though he told you it was for your own good.

"No breathers out in the field," Steve grunted, tackling you and practically tossing you over his shoulder, but with enough finesse so you landed safely on your butt.

"Hey!" you exclaimed loudly in shock. If you had been looking, you would have seen how Bucky reflexively half-rose from his perch, afraid that you had actually been hurt, until he saw the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at Steve and bounced back on your feet indignantly.

"I was making a point -" Steve ducked to the side when you launched a fist towards his head, then threw out a sharp roundhouse kick. You just managed to graze the top of his hair, and he laughed jovially.

"Almost. Try again."

Bucky settled back in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you throw yourself again and again at Steve. Especially when Steve's strong arm encircled your waist, the other one hooking itself under your thigh to throw you onto the ground once more.

He clenched his fist, wishing it was him with his hands on your body instead, and in an entirely different setting.

His excuse for being in the training room was to try and see where your weak spots were and offer you pointers, in hopes that you would improve your hand-to-hand combat. You were an excellent sharpshooter, and could easily defend yourself, but needed to work on your offensive attacks.

Lately, the idea of you attacking someone head on had been making Bucky feel uneasy. Which was ridiculous, since you were part of the team and it was literally your job, but he found that it was affecting his focus out on the field. He felt like he had a constant obligation to look out for you, to protect you.

It seemed like Steve shared the same sentiment. The super soldiers were both oddly protective over you, and it had actually been Steve's idea to up your training in recent months.

The way you moaned as Steve landed a punch in your abdomen made Bucky simultaneously want to rugby tackle his best friend to the ground, and somehow planted sinful thoughts in his head. He knew Steve would never hit you with full-force, however, and made himself to stay put.

"Rogers, I swear one of these days, I'm going to kick your ass," you groaned.

He laughed again, and you took the opportunity to exploit his distraction, using your position on the floor to knock his feet out from under him with surprising force. Your kicked his shins sharply, sending him on his knees, and lunged for him.

You had him on his back for once, finally, and you grinned triumphantly at Bucky. He was mildly perturbed at your position, semi-straddling Steve, but he managed to crack a smile.

Steve finally called it a day half an hour later, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room. You were humming to yourself, stretching out your limbs. Bucky didn’t miss the way you winced slightly.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked, tossing you a bottle of water.

“A little, but it’s alright,” you shrugged. You took a sip, eyes sliding over to his form. He was looking particularly handsome today in a pair of form fitting black jeans, heavy boots and his leather jacket zipped up around his torso.

God, this man could be wearing a garbage bag and you would be drooling. From the first day you met him, you had developed a crush on him, hooked by his ruggedly handsome looks and tough exterior. What really made you fall, however, was that surprisingly soft personality hidden underneath. He made you laugh, too, and you loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at you. Bucky had easily stolen your heart.

Said heart was continuously fluttering nowadays whenever you were near him, like he was a silly teenage crush. You tried to play it cool.

“So, any tips?”

Soon, you were both grappling at each other playfully, peals of laughter leaving your mouth as you “fought”. Bucky was smiling that darn smile, looking almost childlike as you circled each other.

At some point you ended up on top of him, your hands around his wrists as you pinned them back. He could easily free himself, but he humored you.

“Hah!” you called out.

Bucky’s laughter subsided slowly as he took in the sight of you, panting on top of him. His eyes inadvertently fell to your cleavage, where the swell of your breasts was oh-so-visible from his vantage point, your skimpy tank top doing little to hide your skin.

Mortified, he felt a rush of blood to his groin. He knocked you off swiftly before you could feel anything which would reveal what a pervert he was, coughing loudly to hide his embarassment.

“That’s enough,” he said, surprising you with a change of tone. You felt a little disheartened at the switch-up, confusion settling in.

“Ah, okay,” you said, nodding. He was probably getting tired of your games, knowing how you didn’t like to take everything too seriously. Bucky mumbled something about going to take a shower before he excused himself and left.

Being an Avenger was always going to be life threatening. However, you could think of nothing else you'd rather be doing than fighting alongside your chosen family, trying to make your contribution to the world, even if it meant risking yourself.

You usually considered yourself a solid team player, trusting Steve to make the right call out on the field. Now, you weren't so sure, faintly aware that maybe, just maybe, you had screwed up. Especially in situations like these, lying on concrete with your ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

Smoke and dust filled your sight. Your mind was scrambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel the pain in your shoulder, and you wondered if you had dislocated it or worse.

The smoke cleared. All of a sudden, Bucky's face appeared, panic clearly written in his eyes.

The pieces were slowly coming together. You suddenly became aware that Steve was lying behind you, shield in hand and positioned above you. You could hear him groaning in mild discomfort. The clanging in your ears were subsiding so you could hear him and Bucky's shouting.

Your disorientation faded, and you realized what had happened. The explosion.

Four S.H.I.E.L.D agents had gone rogue and had secretly been working for HYDRA, who had been spending the past year regaining power and presence. You had been one of the people dispatched to take them down after the team received intel on the location of their base. They had been holed up in an underground bunker beneath an abandoned warehouse, the perfect spot for a group like them.

You weren't even supposed to be in that part of the bunker, but you saw an opportunity to breach their control room, where undoubtedly you would be able to find all sorts of valuable information about what HYDRA was planning, or what terrible projects they had ongoing. Unfortunately, they had been savvier than you thought, and had implemented a safeguard in the event of a security breach.

That safeguard, as it turned out, was explosives.

Steve had found you as soon as he was made aware of what you were doing, and he had appeared no more than 15 seconds before the bombs detonated. If he hadn't been around, you were almost certain you'd be dead.

You barely had time to register Steve's appearance before you suddenly found yourself flying off your feet, Steve a blur of blue as he re-positioned himself to protect you.

"...fuck, will you say something? Are you okay?"

Bucky was screaming in your ear, and you blinked, the haze finally clearing. Alarms were blaring, Steve was back on his feet, scooping you up with ease.

"We need to get back to the Quinjet," you heard Steve bark, and he began sprinting, jumping over rubble with you in his arms, Bucky following close behind.

As soon as you boarded the jet, Steve sat you down and ordered Bucky to tend to you. He was already kneeling at your feet and inspecting your injuries wordlessly. Steve swiftly geared the Quinjet to life, desperate to get them out of the area before anything else went to hell.

"Look at me," Bucky said sharply, his voice rough. You were startled at his tone, his hands brushing your hair back as he inspected your head for any serious injuries. Blood was trickling from your temples, but from what he could tell, they were only shallow cuts. "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," you managed to say faintly, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. You had put all of them in danger because of your reckless actions, and Steve had actually been injured because of you. You could see the blood dripping off his fingers as he sat at the console, though from the way he handled himself you knew they could only be minor lacerations.

Your eyes landed on Bucky's face then, scanning him for any signs of injury. He seemed physically unharmed, but his face was bright red and he was shaking with rage as he spoke to you. You were ashamed, knowing that he was furious you put his best friend in danger.

“I told you to stay put,” Bucky snarled, slamming his hand against the back of your seat.

"I - I know," you stuttered, vaguely remembering Bucky's request in your earpiece just moments earlier.

“Why couldn't you just listen? You had to play the fucking hero?"

"Bucky, lay off of her." Steve's warning was stern, and Bucky shot a glare at the back of his head.

"No. She was being stupid," he spat, looking back at you. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

You bristled then, despising his patronizing tone. “You’re one to talk. How many times have you completely gone off script and blindsided us with your decisions?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was an unfair statement.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think you realize what could have happened back there."

You looked at Steve again, guilt consuming you. He was focused on operating the jet, and you knew that he hadn't been seriously hurt, but he could have been. Or, worse, Bucky could have been caught in the explosion. He was lucky not to have been there.

"I'm sorry," you began, but Bucky cut you off.

"You need to take this fucking seriously," he snarled. "You went marching in there blindly, and look what happened."

"I thought I might be able to get something useful," you said weakly.

"Look how well that turned out," he said sarcastically. "You blew everything up."

You recoiled, hurt. You wondered if Bucky was actually upset that you had destroyed a valuable chance to get information on HYDRA. Though how were you supposed to know extracting the information would set off literal bombs? You had been acting quickly, wanting to get in and out. Maybe Bucky blamed you for destroying that chance.

"You can be so fucking stupid and selfish," Bucky exclaimed angrily, lashing out in full force. So reckless, doing whatever you wanted to do, without so much as a thought to how much potential harm you could be putting yourself in.

"That's enough," Steve shouted loudly, his voice angry and booming.

You flinched visibly, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from snapping back. Or worse, crying. Bucky walked over to the other side of the jet, away from you.

The feeling was awful. Your shoulder was burning, throat in pain from the smoke you had inhaled, and all Bucky had done was shout. It was surprising, how much your feelings hurt at his outburst.

Bucky was as tense as a statue. His mind was racing as he refused to look at you, thinking of all the worst possibilities. His heart felt as if it had literally skipped a beat the moment he saw you lying in the rubble, seconds after he'd heard the explosion and realized he could no longer hear you in his earpiece - there was a chilling moment amidst the action where he really, genuinely believed you had been killed.

Having you act so blasé about it after the fact infuriated him.

You, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight in your chest as you watched Bucky mutter to himself, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You felt so guilty, feeling so...incapable in Steve and Bucky's presence. Steve had been hurt because of you, and Bucky had every right to be mad at you. Nonetheless, his words cut you deeply.

Stupid and selfish.

The rest of the journey back to the compound was tense and silent. Bucky stared at the wall whilst you stared at the ground. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky stood up with full intention of hoisting you up against his chest to take you to the medical wing, but found Steve standing between you and him instead. Like a barrier, as if he wanted to protect you from Bucky's wrath.

"Let's get you checked out," Steve grunted, his arm once again around your damn waist as you stood.

Even though it was neither the place nor the time, jealously instinctively entered Bucky's bloodstream at the way you leaned on Steve. He wanted to be the one to take care of you, dammit, but all he had achieved was make you avoid his stare.

"Get her head checked out whilst you're at it," Bucky barked. "See if you can find out why she lost all her fucking common sense."

Tears sprang to your eyes when Bucky stormed off the jet, heading into the compound first. It hurt you more than you cared to admit that he hadn't even stayed to see if you were alright.

"He didn't mean that," Steve said quietly.

"He did," you retorted, wincing in pain as you experimentally moved your shoulder. "Shit."

"You alright?"

"Dislocated, I think."

Steve helped you to the medical wing, where you were promptly checked and - yep, dislocated shoulder. No other injuries though, thanks to Steve.

"You saved my life," you said gratefully as Steve stood beside you, wiping dried blood from his hands and face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, as well."

Steve's face was kind yet stern as he moved to stand in front of you. "No need to thank me. But yeah, the way you behaved was kind of reckless."

"I know."

He placed a heavy hand on your good shoulder, squeezing gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Do you think Bucky hates me?" you asked suddenly, looking up at Steve searchingly. "You know him best. Do you think he hates me now?"

Steve sighed loudly in a way that planted doubt in your mind despite his answer. "No, of course he doesn't hate you."

"I think he's at least annoyed that I risked your life," you mumbled.

"Okay, first of all, I've been in so many explosions that it's just a regular day at the office, now," Steve said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Secondly, I think he's just annoyed that you risked your life."

You were dubious, thinking that Steve was just trying to placate you. You recalled how Bucky had glared at you before. If he actually cared, surely he wouldn't have just stalked off like that?

“I think my safety was the last thing on his mind.”

"Get some rest," Steve repeated. "Stop overthinking."

You nodded unconvincingly, all while your thoughts continued to be plagued by a certain dark haired, blue eyed man.

"She okay?" Bucky asked Steve the moment he saw him in the hallway just off the medical wing.

"You could ask her yourself, you know," he said, cocking an eyebrow. When Bucky didn't respond, he offered, "Dislocated her shoulder. Few cuts and bruised ribs. Otherwise, she's fine."

Bucky felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had inspected you pretty closely on the jet and was sure you had been fine, though he was annoyed he didn't realize your shoulder was hurt, however part of him was still fearful. To hear Steve confirm that you were mostly fine was a relief.

"Good," Bucky said brusquely. Steve tilted his head at him, observing his best friend with judgmental eyes. The silence between them spoke volumes. “Shut up," Bucky added.

Your shoulder had been easily maneuvered back into place, though you were confined into a sling and would be for the next few weeks, rendering you useless on the field. That, combined with the gnawing guilt of putting Bucky and Steve in danger, dampened your usually upbeat self.

After being discharged from the medical wing, you had retired to your bedroom and stayed there for the rest of the day. A few mornings later, you left your bedroom at the crack of dawn, startled to see Bucky already making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey," you said meekly, clearing your throat as you made your way to the coffee machine.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and you wondered if he had slept at all. His hair was disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it, and he had stubble all across his sharp jawline.

Things were weird now after his tirade at you. You considered the two of you to be friends - very good friends, actually. In fact, you would be lying if you said you didn't have a deep-rooted hope that you might become more than friends. But, after Bucky's explosive verbal attack on you, you felt so small standing in front of him. You had avoided him for the past couple of days, afraid of any potential confrontation.

He thinks you’re stupid and selfish, you reminded yourself. Each time his words replayed in your mind, a fresh wave of pain hit you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how harsh he’d been for the past few nights whilst in bed, tears slipping down your face and onto your pillow as you tried to sleep.

Your gut twisted in discomfort. You liked Bucky so much, and his admonishing had crushed you somewhat. You wanted him to respect you, didn't want to disappoint him, but you had achieved the opposite.

You turned your back on him and poured yourself a coffee, knowing that if you looked at him for too long, you might start crying. His face was one that you used to love looking at, loved how affectionate he was when he spoke to you, but now you were just scared. You didn’t think you could take it if he snapped at you again.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence first, and you wondered if he actually genuinely cared about the answer. You really weren’t sure anymore.

"I'm fine," you said, nodding and moving over to the pantry to try and find something to eat. You stretched up to the shelves with your good arm, fingers curling over a bag of croissants but not quite being able to reach.

You felt his presence behind you, his chest pressing against your back softly as he took the pastries down for you, setting them down on the counter.

Bucky watched when you stiffened slightly, and felt a heavy twinge of regret at how he had spoken to you that day. He was already feeling like an ass about it, but now he wondered if you were somehow frightened of him. He knew that he had crossed a line, said some pretty nasty things.

He stepped away from you, clearing his throat loudly to catch your attention. When you half-turned to face him, he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was out of line."

He could only see your profile as you bit down on your lower lip, shrugging as if to say no big deal. From the way your eyes were darting about, Bucky could tell you were holding back on your emotions. "It's okay. You were right."

Bucky frowned, watching as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. "What do you mean?"

"What I did was stupid and selfish," you said, your voice quivering. Bucky's lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. "I wasn't thinking, and I put both of you in danger. I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry at me."

Realization hit Bucky like a freight train.

"Hey," he said gently, approaching you again, his hand awkwardly curling around your wrist. He could see your eyes beginning to well up. "Don't get upset." He tilted his head at you, trying to coax you to look at him.

"I'm not," you sniffed, blinking hard in an attempt to rid yourself of your budding tears.

"When I said you were stupid and selfish," Bucky winced at those adjectives now, "I meant I just felt you were stupid to put yourself in danger, and selfish because - well, you didn't even think about what it would do to me."

Your brow furrowed at Bucky's rushed explanation, looking up at him quizically. Your eyes were still glistening, and his heart ached.

"I don't understand."

Bucky made a slightly frustrated noise, releasing your wrist. He planted his hands on the kitchen counter instead, trapping you, your lower back pressed against the marble edge. He sighed loudly, making you swallow nervously.

"Bucky?"

"I care about you," he began, suddenly unable to articulate himself properly as he looked into your eyes. “A lot. As in, a lot."

"Oh-kay..." The syllables were long and drawn out. You were still nonplussed.

"No, you don't get it," Bucky said through gritted teeth. He cast his mind back to the events in the bunker, that same fear creeping into his system. "There was a second where I heard the blast, and I thought you were done for. I was terrified."

Bucky leaned closer, so close that his forehead was almost resting on yours. His eyes fluttered closed. It was easier if he didn’t look at you to voice his feelings.

"There was a very real moment where I thought I lost you, and it was horrible." The unspoken meaning hung in the air. I can't live without you.

His confession made your heart rise in your chest with surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, Bucky." The way you spoke his name made him want to hold you tight. "I had no idea you cared so much," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, and they were anguished. "That's the problem. I'm so scared of showing you my feelings that you had no idea I care about you more than anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. The idea of you being hurt is infinitely more terrifying than telling you how much I really like you."

“I - really?” His words were black and white, but you were afraid to truly believe them.

“Did you know,” Bucky began, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheekbone, “how much I want to protect you? Keep you from harm? At first, I didn’t understand it, but then I realized that I was falling for you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been so long since I felt anything like that for anyone, that I barely recognized what it was.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. The way you were gazing at him now in pure adoration was motivation enough.

“I want to be with you, as more than friends.” He let out a soft huff of laughter, like he was amused it had taken him so long to admit something so simple.

You lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, feeling a renewed confidence and sense of happiness at his words.

“I should have told you long ago how much I like you, too,” you whispered. Bucky's chest swelled in happiness at your admission.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" he asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

Your reply was to stand on your tip-toes so you could meet his mouth in a kiss, finally doing what you had wanted to do since the moment you met him.

4K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 8 days

Text

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

Summary: You finally confess your feelings to Bucky, hoping he might like you back. He turns you down.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, no other significant warnings really without spoiling the plot 🤫

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: If you enjoyed this one, please do leave a comment / feedback / reblog! ❤️

Loving Bucky was like drinking honey. It was warm and comforting, sweet and overwhelming for your senses. You looked forward to seeing his face everyday and adored hearing him laugh, his whole face creasing when he doubled over at something funny you had said.

He had become an unlikely close ally since you joined the team. More than just a colleague. The time you’d spent together in the last year had been a defining period for you, as you had really grown to treasure his presence in your life.

God, the way this man made you feel. You didn’t think you’d ever be lucky enough to meet someone who would make you so happy.

It would be even better if you actually had the gall to tell him how you felt.

Being emotionally vulnerable was difficult. You wanted more, but it was scary. However, you recalled a piece of advice that one of your college professors had told you years ago, wise words which stuck with you. If you never try, the answer will always be no.

You had it set in your mind that you were going to tell him. You were, but maybe not today. You would wait for tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Your inner turmoil was frustrating. You fought androids and aliens and god knows what else, but you were afraid of this?

It could mess everything up, you reasoned. If he didn’t return your feelings, then you would make everything awkward, and maybe you would lose him even as a friend. You didn't know if you could handle that.

Despite this, a tiny hopeful voice in your head told you that Bucky felt the same about you. The way he always looked for a reason to spend time with you, how he shared his deepest secrets with you. The way you always partnered up on missions, and how you always had each other's backs. The way he comforted you when you were sad, allowing you to cry on his chest, soothing fingers stroking your hair.

When you first joined the team, he had been the first one to properly befriend you. Your first encounter was in the kitchen, where you had ended up in the middle of the night after being unable to sleep.

You were shocked to see Bucky propped up on a breakfast stool at the kitchen island, book in hand. You had waved nervously at him, going over to the fridge to get a carton of chocolate milk.

“Can’t sleep?” he grunted. You glanced to see what it was reading, seeing 'The Hobbit' embossed in gold letters across a hardback cover.

“Yeah,” you said softly, tugging down at the hem of your sleep shirt. You hadn’t exchanged many words with him at this point, but he seemed friendly enough. “You want a glass?”

He contemplated for a second before he nodded. “Sure.”

You ended up sitting opposite each other, glasses of chocolate milk in hand.

“How come you’re awake?”

Bucky smiled wryly. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“Nightmares?”

“Something like that.”

You hummed to yourself, taking a sip of the sweet beverage. There was something childish but comforting about chocolate milk - you always used to have it with your mom when you were small.

“How you feeling?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence. “Settling in?”

You nodded, the grip around your glass tightening. “Yeah, kind of. Everyone’s nice.”

Bucky seemed to know that you wanted to say more, silently promoting you with his eyes to continue.

“Everybody seems very tight knit - I guess that makes me a bit nervous? Trying to fit in.” You looked down, chewing on your lower lip. "I've always had a bit of trouble with that."

“I get you,” Bucky said, eyes still observing you. They were the color of cobalt - stunning. “Don’t worry. I think you’ll do just fine.”

That was the first meeting, and since then, you had only grown closer to him. Your mid-night conversations were a frequent occurrence. At least once or twice a week, you’d find each other in the kitchen at ungodly hours. Over time, you had introduced other activities to pass the time - board games, watching TV shows, fun idle gossip. Each time, you were always accompanied by chocolate milk.

“My mom died when I was six,” you had told Bucky during one of your late night rendezvous, half a year into your time with the team. “I don’t have many memories of her, but I remember that whenever I was sick or sad, she would have chocolate milk with me. It always cheered me up.”

You exchanged nuggets of information about each others pasts, and soon, you were sure that Bucky knew enough about you to write your biography. You felt surprisingly fine, opening up to him about anything and everything.

The seasons passed in a flash, and it was suddenly the one year anniversary of your joining the team. You found Bucky in the kitchen once again, at 3AM on a Thursday. You had a smile ready on your face, though your limbs ached. They were littered with bruises and cuts from your latest mission, but seeing him put a bounce in your step.

Bucky was staring down at his phone, the glow illuminating his face in the semi-darkness. It was chiming loudly with notifications, his expression unreadable.

“What’s that?” you asked, making your presence known.

Bucky already had a glass of milk out for you. He placed his phone down, grimacing.

“Sam got me doing this online dating thing,” he said casually. Your smile fell, unable to hide your surprise. “Modern dating is kind of crazy. Women are so much bolder than in the 40s."

Online dating? What?

“I didn’t know you started online dating,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. You didn’t even know Bucky was Iooking to date. You were deflated - any hopes that Bucky returned your crush were promptly dashed. You tried to swallow your disappointment.

“I wasn’t, really,” he said. “I guess it’s not the worst idea, though.”

Damn you, Sam Wilson, you thought.

“You meet women in real life all the time,” you said, taking your usual seat across him. “No one catch your interest?” You played nonchalantly with your fingers, trying not to pick your nails - a nervous habit.

Bucky pursed his lips, eyes landing on you for a moment before he looked at the ceiling.

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“You met anyone nice so far?” you probed, your jealousy spiking.

“Early days,” he responded. He slid his phone across the surface of the island, showing you the dating app he had open. The girls were plentiful, all beautiful and clearly enthusiastic. Bucky’s inbox was full of flirtatious greetings, but you noticed he hadn’t yet responded to a single one.

“Hmm.” You struggled to keep your face neutral. You felt the sinking realization that he must have never thought of you that way. Otherwise, why would he be looking for someone when you were right there?

You couldn't focus properly on the conversation anymore, your mind racing as Bucky moved the topic onto something unrelated.

Fantasising about Bucky had been dangerous. You had spent so much time imagining the day you would finally confess, and he would reciprocate your feelings and you would have the happy relationship you yearned for. Even if you didn’t confess first, you were hoping he would.

Up until now, you had sometimes told yourself that Bucky was just being patient. That he was old-fashioned, so he was taking his time in courting you.

You realized now that you were simply never considered an option.

The next few weeks were torturous. Christmas was fast-approaching, but you were far from being in the festive mood. You had to put on a front with Bucky now, pretend everything was alright and not feel too tempted to ask about the progress of his dating life. Things were tough, and you were feeling unhappier day by day.

You had always known, deep down, that your feelings for him were more than just a crush, and had been for many months. It ached, the feeling of knowing your emotions were not returned.

One horrible part of you wondered why. Were you not sexy enough? Not smart enough? Not charming enough?

Maybe all of the above.

Seeing Bucky nowadays made you ache. You found yourself feeling sad whenever he cracked jokes with you, shared his thoughts with you, when the backs of his hands brushed against yours as you walked side by side.

He would find someone that he actually wanted to be with, to do all that and more. It wasn’t his fault, and you knew he had no idea that you were in so much pain, that he had single handedly eviscerated you.

Tony's Christmas party was a perfect opportunity to drown your sorrows. So cliché. You knew it was a bad idea, but that didn't stop you knocking back drink after drink by the bar, ignoring Natasha's requests to dance. After all, if all the Hollywood rom-coms you had watched were any indication, this was one of the key steps to getting over a guy.

The party was kicking off, and the room was spinning like a ride at a fairground. Your alcohol tolerance had always been low, and now you were paying for your actions. Your skin was burning hot and prickling, and you were struggling to walk straight. Although, this was exactly what you wanted - it was somehow cathartic, purging you of all the pent of frustration inside.

A dark figure appeared in your eye line. Your vision refocused until you realized who it was - your favorite, handsome face was looking very annoyed right now, mouth set in a firm line.

“You’re drunk,” Bucky stated, his voice filled with annoyance.

“Duh.”

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he said, his hand latching around your bicep.

“No,” you said indignantly, jerking away. Your face blanched at the sudden movement. “I don’t feel well."

Bucky rolled his eyes, opting to steer you towards the balcony instead for some fresh air. He shut the French doors behind you, allowing the silent night air to consume you, isolating the two of you from the crowd.

“Sit,” he said, gently helping you down onto a wrought iron bench. “What were you thinking? You know you can’t drink.”

“I know.”

“Something wrong?” Bucky knew that the answer was yes - there was no other reason for you to be drinking unless you were upset or mad.

“I wanted to forget,” you croaked, leaning your head back to get a proper look at him. The sight of him devastated you. He looked so beautiful, so far out of your reach.

“Forget what?”

You stared up at the ink black sky, at the stars. The night air was cool against your burning skin. Everything was quiet, save the sound of his breathing in your ear as he leaned close to you. In that intoxicated moment, you thought you had nothing to lose, forgetting that Bucky was truly your everything.

“How much I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head to look at him through beseeching eyes.

Bucky sucked in a breath of air. His entire stance became rigid at your words. The way you stared at him imploringly confirmed that he hadn’t misheard.

“How long?” He was frowning even as you gave him a trembling, sad smile.

“A long time.”

He raised his hand as if he wanted to touch you, but settled it back down on his thigh. Your face crumpled at his obvious discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

Those words alone were enough to make your throat tighten and the needles in your chest multiply ten-fold.

“Tell me you feel the same way,” you said suddenly. It was a plead. You hated how desperate you were in this moment, but you needed him to know how you felt, and you needed to know whether you had a chance. Call it liquid courage, but you felt like you had nothing to lose when you grasped one of his calloused hands in yours.

Bucky was silent for a long time, staring at you with sadness and regret in his eyes. You hated how uncomfortable you must’ve been making him. God, what were you thinking, burdening him with your feelings and putting him in this position? You scolded yourself mentally, feeling nauseous.

Your hand was tight around his, your knuckles white. With every silent second that passed, your fingers loosened, falling limp. His hand was warm, yet you had never felt so cold.

He pulled his hand free, clenching it into a fist.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. Each word was a knife sinking into your chest. The realization hit you suddenly, thick and sour.

You felt bile rise in your throat. You stood up then, the floor shaking beneath you. You almost collapsed.

“Be careful - ”

“Oh god,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

You darted away with surprising speed, wrenching the doors open and hurrying back inside the room. You ignored the sounds of him calling you as you rushed through the crowd, trying to put one foot steadily in front of you and praying you wouldn’t fall.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You held the tears in until you returned to your bedroom, slamming the door shut. You bolted into the en-suite and fell onto your knees in front of the toilet, the acid in your throat finally seeing the surface as you vomited.

Your stomach heaved, emptying yourself of all its contents. But you couldn’t get rid of the horrible, cloying feeling in your gut that came with Bucky’s rejection.

You fell asleep on the bathroom floor, tear tracks on your face and fresh wound in your heart.

You were dreading seeing him the next morning. Thankfully, you arrived in the conference room before he did. The others were there already, gathered around the table. Sam took one look at you and snickered. You were dressed in black, hair in disarray and a pair of large sunglasses on your face.

“Someone had a bit too much fun last night,” he sang.

You grimaced, closing your eyes at the way his voice boomed in your overly sensitive ears. “Stop shouting,” you croaked.

Bucky entered a few minutes later. You kept your head down, refusing to look at him or otherwise acknowledge his presence. To the others, your hostility could be passed off as a result of your clear hangover. But the excruciating humiliation of your confession to him hung between the two of you, making you squirm in your seat.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting, keeping your sunglasses on and staring stoically at Steve as he delivered the mission briefing. As soon as he dismissed the team, you jogged out of the room, but was accosted by Bucky in the hallway.

“Can we talk?” he asked loudly.

You didn’t want to make a scene. You put a fake smile on.

“Sure.” Your eyes were still swollen behind your dark shades as you tried not to let the sight of him bring out any more tears.

He led you into an empty room a few doors down. His face was set like stone, only the slightest crease in his forehead hinting at something akin to distress.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he said carefully.

“It’s okay.” You winced in discomfort, even just the sound of your own voice bringing you pain. You wondered if he had rehearsed a speech, to let you down easy.

“You should never drink that much again.” His voice was sharp, critical.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, taken aback by his tone.

“It’s not worth it,” he said, his attitude easing up. “I’m not worth it. I don’t want you to feel this way because of me."

You felt your shoulders sag. You felt so tired, defeated.

"I can't control the way I feel," you whispered.

Bucky kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, like he was afraid to go near you now that the pair of you were alone. You wished you could read his mind, know what he was thinking.

His next words were chilling. "You’re my friend, and I care a lot about you.”

The emphasis on the word ‘friend’ didn’t go unnoticed. The way he looked at you was orchestrated, pointed. He was letting you know, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted to say. You were almost grateful that he didn’t directly bring up how you had told him you loved him, as if to save you your last shred of dignity.

He stared at you now with such intensity, the meaning clear in the way he looked at you. We are just friends.

He was doing you a favour. Still, your heart shattered. Your hands were shaking. There it was again - that awful, stinging pain of rejection.

“Okay,” you said faintly.

“I'm sorry if I ever made you think that we could be anything more," he began. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Let’s not do this,” you interrupted. If he kept speaking, you felt like you might die. You wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky licked his lips but remained silent.

“Please..." You hated how your voice shook. "I would really appreciate it if we could just move on. Let’s not bring this up again. It would really help me.”

Bucky folded his arms tightly across his chest, nodding stiffly.

“Okay.”

You backed away from him, grateful your eyes were hidden. You left the room and didn’t look back.

You managed to act normal around Bucky. Well, semi-normal. The rest of the team didn't even seem to notice anything was amiss - you still spoke to Bucky, managed to look at him as if the very sight didn't break your heart, kept a smile on your face.

But that was in front of them. For anything else which wasn't out of necessity or mission-related, you avoided interacting with him. When you woke up in the middle of the night, you no longer plodded into the kitchen, instead staying in your bed, sobbing and staring at the ceiling.

You no longer laughed and joked with him. You turned your attention to the others instead, talking to Steve and Clint and Natasha and whoever else was there, in a desperate attempt to hide the fact that you were trying to keep it together. You wanted to keep your mind distracted.

It was horrible.

Things would not be the same again, at least not for a little while. You needed time to make yourself get over him.

It was easier, when Bucky returned to the compound one night with a blonde on his arm. She was giggling and clinging onto him, and your heart sank when they stumbled into the elevator just as you were making your way to your floor.

You couldn't have been more shocked at the sight of them. Bucky had red prints all over his cheeks, and her lipstick was smeared. The smell of alcohol was in the air.

"You're not supposed to have civilians in here," was the only thing you managed to say, shock infiltrating your system. The blonde giggled.

"Oops."

Bucky only shrugged, his hand slipping into hers as the elevator rose. Your heart clenched.

He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to show you that he had no interest in you, leave you without any doubts. You didn’t know that Bucky had it in him, to be so cruel. If you weren't trying to hold back your tears, you would've almost felt impressed by his antics. The worst thing was, you truly understood why he was doing this.

You think you may have hated him in that moment.

The elevator doors dinged open, and you stumbled out. Tears began prickling in your eyes, and you were sure Bucky could see.

You didn't say anything as you marched to your room, the elevator doors sliding shut.

You had always been good at pretending. Pretending you were happy when you weren't, pretending you were calm when you were furious, pretending you knew the answer when you didn't.

Bucky saw past a lot of that. He could tell when you were lying, could see when you were holding back. He read you like an open book.

He was important to you, and still would be even if he had rejected your confession and rubbed the presence of another girl in your face. You told yourself that it was a good thing - he was performing a service, encouraging you to move on. Besides, he didn't owe you a thing. He could do whatever he wanted with anyone else.

You couldn't lie convincingly to yourself.

Bucky's birthday rolled around all too quickly. You had it marked in your calendar, though you would've remembered even without the reminder.

Despite your conflicted feelings, you wanted to get him a gift. You had planned the perfect one months ago and had enlisted Bruce's help in finding it. You still wanted to see the look on his face when he opened it.

Bucky roamed the hallways on your floor the morning of his birthday, frowning slightly when your bedroom door opened, Bruce appearing in the frame. He caught a glimpse of where you were perched on your bed, face flushed in mild excitement.

Bucky gave Bruce a smile which may have looked more like a grimace, the latter giving him a polite nod before continuing on. Your door swung inwards, but Bucky stuck a hand between it and the frame, poking his head through.

"What's that all about?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

You shuffled something behind your back. You hadn't spoken to Bucky much as of late, barely acknowledging any of the awkward encounters that had occurred in the past months, instead choosing to face him with a professional-politeness.

"Nothing," you said, not particularly aware of what it would look like to have Bruce emerge from your bedroom.

"Is something going on between you two?" he asked directly. He gave a laugh void of humor, the sound escaping him in a huff. "Do you have a thing for emotionally damaged men?" He gestured to himself with his vibranium arm.

The small smile on your lips fell. Anger simmered in your eyes.

How could he? How could he reduce his feelings for you to nothing and stomp on them like it was trash?

You stood and marched towards him, a wave of fury overcoming you, thrusting a wrapped parcel into his hands.

"He helped me get your present, actually. Happy birthday," you spat, watching as Bucky's mouth fell open silently. You pushed past him, unable to look him in the eyes, feeling your stomach twist.

Bucky remained rooted to the spot, fiddling with the wrapping paper hesitantly before he ripped it open.

It was a first edition copy of 'The Grapes of Wrath', excellent condition. The subject of Bucky's favorite books came up after your first encounter when you saw him reading 'The Hobbit'.

"Is it about angry grapes?" you had asked, confused when Bucky laughed. He promised he would buy it and lend you the book one day.

Bucky's ground his teeth, every cell in his body telling him to go after you. But, for all the reasons he had told himself since the day of your confession, he made himself stay put.

Bucky had missed out on a lot in his life since falling off that train in the Austrian Alps. His whole trajectory had changed, and instead of growing old in his century, he found himself in the 21st, thrust into the modern world and navigating his new life.

He always thought, back in the 40s, that he would meet a nice girl and settle down after the war. He would live in a cozy, tiny home and have three kids, maybe four.

He missed out on that and more - though he had been quite the playboy back in his time, he had never experienced true love. He had never met that one woman he would die for.

Bucky had commented off-hand once on how lucky Steve was to meet Peggy before he went into the ice. Steve had reminisced on that with a bittersweet smile, before telling him, you’ll find your Peggy.

Falling in love with you had blindsided him. At first, he viewed you as a friend, a sweet girl who he grew to trust.

Then, he realized that he was slowly being drawn to you, like magnets he couldn’t pull apart. He realized that everything you did was endearing, that you occupied his thought space all the time, that having you around helped him feel comfortable, safe.

You were young, determined, and so innocent. You were somebody who deserved someone as pure and good as you. You weren’t his Peggy - you were something more, so unique and unapologetically you, and he wanted you as his person so badly.

But you deserved someone good. Somebody like Steve, who stood for the best values and only acted for the good of mankind. Not someone morally-gray and jaded like Bucky.

He wanted someone to spend his life with, for sure. If he couldn’t have his idyllic life in the post-war period, then he still wanted to find a partner in this new, still-unfamiliar time.

You fit that profile. He wanted you.

But he would never forgive himself if he weighed you down with his sins.

When you told him you loved him, his heart had broke. He wanted to tell you how much he valued you, how he dreamed of kissing you. He wanted to be a part of your happy ending.

But how much of a happy ending could he really give you? Could he give you children, knowing they would always be in danger from his enemies? Could he give you a wedded, domestic life, when all he knew was how to fight and cause pain?

He had to make his sacrifice for the greater good. Even if he had to crush you, he had to do it.

Someone like Bucky wasn’t supposed to get happy endings. You were, but just not with him.

You couldn't stand to be around him anymore. It was affecting your concentration, your work. It reached a breaking point two weeks after Bucky's birthday, when you requested to speak to Steve privately.

"You want to leave?" he asked, his face appalled.

You nodded curtly. "You’ll still be able to contact me, if you really need me. But I don't think I can stay here anymore."

Steve didn't look as confused at your profession as you expected.

"Is this about Bucky?"

You cringed. God, did he know about everything that happened?

"I don't know what's going on between the two of you," he clarified quickly, "but I can see that something happened. He's not the same, either."

"I'm not in a good place right now," you admitted shamefully. "I'm not saying that this is goodbye forever, Steve. But for my own sanity, I think I need a break."

Steve heaved a sigh. "I know you wouldn't ask unless you really needed it. And you don't need my permission, you know."

"I know," you said, giving him a small smile. "But I just wanted to let you know that I'll be here whenever the team needs it. Emergencies only," you joked. "But for now I think I'll get out of here. Maybe go upstate."

"Have you told him?"

"Don't need to," you said, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

"I think he would like to know."

“We’re not really on speaking terms,” you said bluntly.

Steve clasped a heavy hand on your shoulder. He knew better than to argue. He was sure you’d figure things out for yourself, anyway. “I’ll miss you.”

Now that you had completed the professional courtesy, you decided that you would leave in a few days. You still had some matters to wrap up, and to say goodbye to your teammates. You loved them, and they deserved a proper farewell.

"This isn't goodbye," Nat had said sternly, pulling you into a tight hug. Her voice was quiet and soft in your ear as she whispered, "If you need me, I'll be there."

You squeezed her tight, threatening to tear up. "Thank you."

"Keep your ass out of trouble," Clint had said, winking at you. “And check in with us now and again, yeah?”

Sam was clearly unhappy about everything. And he definitely noticed that you had picked a day to make your announcement when Bucky was conveniently away from the compound.

"Am I gonna see you again?" he asked, raising his eyebrows after you'd embraced.

"Couldn't get rid of me if you tried," you promised, punching his arm.

You retired to your bedroom that night, sure that Bucky would hear the news later after he came back. You kept your phone switched off and door locked for the rest of the evening, making sure the your belongings were packed.

Just past midnight, you crept out of your room, duffel bag over your shoulder. You made your way through the compound, down the floors into the underground garage. Bucky's motorbike wasn't there - he still hadn't returned.

You were grateful. You climbed into your car, and tossed your belongings in the back. You had to stop thinking about him - if you let yourself do it for too long, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to go.

With a heavy heart, you left this chapter of your life behind.

Your phone rang for days afterwards. Missed calls, voicemails left unanswered, texts left unread.

You couldn't bear to face him. If you pretended he didn't exist, maybe it would ease the pain.

You didn't know where you were driving to. You simply knew you had to get as far away as possible, clear your head. You were at a crossroads, and you needed to pull yourself together, but for now you would allow yourself to wallow.

You had been spending each night in a different motel. Wake up, drive, sleep. Wake up, drive, sleep. You wanted to put as much distance between yourself and Bucky Barnes as possible.

You had no idea how you had gotten everything so wrong. Did you really misinterpret the signals? Was every intimate moment between the two of you simply platonic?

You didn't want to feel so beat up over a guy, but he wasn't just any guy. He was the first man you had ever loved.

Life was funny, sometimes. You supposed that you couldn't always expect happy endings.

You kicked open the door of the latest motel, a bag of takeout in your hands. You noticed the dark, shadowy figure on your bed in an instant, your hand sliding to the dagger sheathed in your belt on reflex. Before your brain even had time to catch up with what you were seeing, you had aimed and launched it, shocked when a familiar voice rang out.

"Calm down, tiger," he rasped. The bedside light flicked on, and Bucky was suddenly there, twirling your dagger between his fingers. He tossed it to the side, letting it land on the carpet with a soft thud.

A week had passed since you last saw him. Seeing him sent an electrifying jolt straight through your core.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. You were shocked, but your first thought was that something terrible had happened. "Is it the team? Are they in danger?"

Bucky looked irate, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands were knotted together, worry hiding beneath his anger.

"I've been calling you for days. You left without saying goodbye. Hell, you left without saying anything." His voice was gruff and accusatory.

That gave you the answer you needed. The team were fine, and he was simply here to rant. You felt the initial shock of his appearance wear off.

He stood up and stepped towards you, and that was when you noticed the state he was in. His usually close shaven beard was slightly unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked worn out.

"Yeah," you retorted, "I kind of did that on purpose."

"Why?" His voice was a whisper. "Why would you do that?"

You were exasperated. You did not envision yourself having to explain your decisions to him. His appearance both delighted and depressed you. It was tiring, having these two sides battle each other whenever you saw him. Your love for him versus his heavy rejection.

"I can't be around you anymore," you admitted, your voice tight. "I thought I could, but I can't."

"Why the hell not?" he pressed stubbornly.

"You know why!" you cried out. "Why are you doing this to me, Bucky? I told you I loved you and, okay, you don't love me. Fair enough," you said, frustrated. "But to go out of your way to hurt me? Remind me that I'm nothing more than a friend? Bring other girls back to the compound so you can fuck them?"

Bucky flinched. "I never - "

"No!" you shouted, cutting him off. "You don't get to do this, Bucky." You felt wetness on your cheeks, and realized you were crying. It only made you more exasperated. "You don't get to tear my heart out of my chest and come here when I've been trying to get away from you."

He stormed up to you, hands reaching for you, but you batted him away.

"Don't!" Your hand hit his chest, barely moving him an inch. "Just stop! Please!" Your voice broke, and you shook with tears. The dam had broke, and seeing him here was just too much.

"Please don't cry," he pleaded, his face anguished.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice breaking. "What do you want from me?"

Bucky looked so upset, taking another step forward, but you walked backwards until you hit the door.

"You don't want me," you exclaimed through your tears. You needed him to understand how much pain you were in just by seeing him. "You can't be here, Bucky. I can't look at you and remember how you just don't love me back."

Bucky pulled you into his arms, tightening them when you struggled. He was stronger than you - you had no choice but to become a prisoner against his chest. You were crying as you had many times before in his hold, but this time it felt different. Your heart was pounding and you were aching, wanting to melt into him but also aware of the anger and sadness flaring within you. It was torture.

"It hurts too much," you managed to get out through your wailing sobs.

He didn't say anything until you stilled. He let you cry, your tears soaking through his shirt. Your quiet sniffs and hiccups accompanied his words when he finally spoke.

"You weren't supposed to appear in my life," he said, his voice tense. "You weren't supposed to be so wonderful, so comforting. You made me feel so safe."

You didn't say anything, confusion rendering you temporarily speechless.

"I thought I was fine on my own. I've been a soldier all my life, just focusing on fighting everyone else's battles. And then I met you."

You had no idea where this was going as Bucky's arms seemed to tighten all the more around you.

"It felt...strange, how I wanted to kiss you. How I wanted you there, next to me, all the time.”

You looked up at Bucky, really taking in his exhausted eyes, his chapped lips, the way he was looking at you now with an exquisite softness.

"I felt like I was doing something wrong. I thought - I don't want to - ruin you," he said. "You are so young and have your whole future ahead of you and I didn't want to bring you down with all of me. My history, my demons, my baggage. And I ended up hurting you."

A spark of hope appeared, wanting to ignite into a flame. You expelled a shaky breath.

"Do you love me?" you asked, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to hold you.

He nodded, his words like velvet. "How could I not? Of course I love you."

Of course, he said. But your insecurities prevailed, and you shook your head.

"You did a good job of hiding it," you said sadly.

Bucky closed his eyes regretfully.

"I know. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought if I could push you away, make you fall out of love with me, you would find someone worthy."

"What makes you think you're not worthy?" you retorted.

"Some days, I feel like no amount of good deeds I do can redeem me," he murmured.

"Bucky," you said slowly. "You're one of the best men I've ever known. Your heart is so kind."

"I'm sorry." He grasped one of your hands, brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Part of me thought you would shrug, get over it and find someone else."

Your smile was full of sorrow. "Then you have no idea how much you truly mean to me.

Bucky cupped the side of your face. Seeing you in this state had truly been a wake up call for him. When he found out you had left the compound, all his resolve had crumbled. He realized that he had hurt you so deeply that you couldn’t physically be around him. That was when he knew that the connection between the two of you was too rare to let it slip, when he felt an immense pain at the idea of never seeing you again.

Having you in front of him now was heartbreaking. Your eyes were puffy, and you looked tired and so frail. He loved you, and you were supposed to take care of the people you loved. He swore on his life that he would dedicate himself to showing you what you really meant to him.

"When you asked me what I'm doing here," Bucky said, a hopeful smile on his face, "It's to tell you that I love you, so much. And I'm here to take you home."

You nodded, fresh tears filling your eyes, except this time they were borne from happiness.

"Let's go."

He had already packed your belongings for you, you realized when he released you to hoist your bags over his shoulder, which he had placed by the door. He paused, slipping his hand into his pocket and placing a tiny kid-sized carton into your hand. "Almost forgot. For the journey."

Chocolate milk.

You threw your arms around him, jumping to hook your legs around his hips. He dropped your bags as you kissed him, his hands reaching to support your thighs as he returned it with equal passion.

"This room is paid for," you gasped into his mouth. "Let's go back tomorrow."

He was silent when he walked back to fall onto the bed with you on top of him, his mouth never once leaving yours.

5K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 9 days

Text

Masterlist

Buy me a Ko-fi?☕

Bucky Barnes

❤ - Fluff | 🔥 - Smut/PWP | 💔 - Angst | 🖤 - Non-con | 🌟 - Personal favourite

Newest fics will appear at the top of this list

Can An Old Man Do This? - Watching Twilight with Bucky leads to sex. Sounds about right.🔥

Take Me Back To The Night We Met - He promised you forever and a day. 💔

As If It Was Really That Easy - There's nothing more painful than wondering what your love could have been. 💔

Come Home - Bucky interrupts your date on Valentine’s Day, asking you to take him back. 💔 ❤

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart - You finally confess your feelings to Bucky, hoping he might like you back. He turns you down. 💔 ❤️ 🌟

Protector - When Steve gets injured on the field protecting you, Bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of Steve’s arms around you. 💔 ❤ 🌟

Dirty Little Confession - You and Bucky start dating, and during your first time, he tells you exactly how he used to fantasize about you. Part 2 to Dirty Little Secret, can be read as a stand-alone. 🔥 🌟

Mockingbird - Bucky tells you he doesn’t need you, except he can’t live without you. 💔 ❤

I Wanna Be Yours - You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back. 💔 ❤

Whatever It Takes - The Winter Soldier travels across the multiverse to find you, and wont take ‘no’ for an answer. 🖤

Dirty Little Secret - You believe Bucky doesn’t even remember your name, not knowing he moans it to himself at night. 🔥 🌟

I'll Let You Lick The Lollipop - You're bored, and Bucky won't play with you. 🔥

Heart of Glass - You hate it when Bucky is mad, but it's a thousand times worse when you're the one he's mad at. 💔 ❤ 🌟

P r e t t y B o y - I may seem nice, I may seem soft, but that's all a part of your imagination. Bucky fucks you in a public restroom like the dirty slut you are. 🔥

An Experiment in Jealousy - You decided to try and make Bucky jealous. Now, you would pay the price. 🔥

Disillusioned - Every time I tried to take a step closer, he took a step back. Falling in love with Bucky Barnes was easy, but the distance he kept between us was torture. 💔

1K notes · View notes

letmereadfanfictionsinpeace · 9 days

Text

Disillusioned

Summary: Every time I tried to take a step closer, he took a step back. Falling in love with Bucky Barnes was easy, but the distance he kept between us was torture.

Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader

Genre: Angst, happy ending(?)

Warnings: Smut! And minor character death

Length: 3.5k

A/N: My love for Bucky/Sebastian Stan has inspired me to write again 💕 Enjoy (I hope)!

He was having a nightmare.

Bucky didn't often agree to stay the night - I suspected this was part of the reason why. I woke up to sounds of grunting and the loud grinding of his jaw, my bleary eyes adjusting to the view in front of me.

Moonlight illuminated his profile, his eyes shut and brow furrowed, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. He was still asleep, his fists clenching the sheets as I slowly extended a hand.

"Bucky," I whispered, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat, touching his naked shoulder gingerly. "Bucky," I repeated louder.

He stirred then, eyes snapping open. He almost looked shocked to see me in bed with him, as if he'd forgotten where he was. He pushed himself to sit upright with a sharp inhale, jaw still clenched.

"Are you okay?" I asked, propping myself up with one elbow, concern laced through my voice despite the exhaustion.

"M'fine," Bucky replied in a tone that told me he was most definitely not fine. He wasn't even looking at me, his blue eyes looking at the wall, distant, as if he was recalling an unpleasant memory. Or as if he just didn't want to look at my face. "I gotta go."

"Now?" I glanced at my alarm clock. It wasn't even 4am.

"Yeah." Bucky stood up, and I blushed despite myself at his naked form. My cheeks burned further as I recalled the particularly heated session we had just a few hours ago, both of us collapsing into a sweaty mess. I had whispered a Please, can you stay? to him before I was lulled into sleep, surprised when he had simply grunted and stayed by my side.

"Wait, Bucky - " I reached out instinctively and held onto his right hand, which felt colder than his vibranium one when he almost instantly snatched it away. I faltered, biting down onto my lower lip. "Can we - what's the rush?"

This happened all the time. Whenever I was lucky enough to have Bucky fall asleep by my side, more often than not, he would wake up from the nightmares and just leave, no matter what the hour was. We had never even slept through a sunrise together.

"I have things to do," was his response, his eyes never once meeting mine.

I clutched the sheets against my torso, feeling the all-too familiar cold, creeping feeling in my chest. That feeling of rejection, the feeling of unhappiness when I remembered that Bucky and I weren't really anything, not really. Not quite friends, not quite lovers, and definitely not a couple. He had made that clear.

"Can we just talk for five minutes?" I asked quietly as Bucky hurried to get dressed, his clothes flung haphazardly around my bedroom.

"About what?"

Anything, I wanted to scream. What do you call it when you are so unbelievably in love with someone, so desperate to keep them in your life that you are willing to just be someone that they came to whenever they wanted some casual company, a warm body, some fun? The word I was searching for was "pathetic", probably.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmares?" I asked, picking my nails nervously. I watched as Bucky paused pulling on his shirt for just a millisecond, almost as if he was caught off guard by my query.

"I don't talk about them," Bucky said after a moment, shaking his head.

"Don't you think you might feel better if you -"

"Look," Bucky said sharply, turning to face me. His stern expression softened ever so slightly at the sight of my face, which no doubt looked as torn and pitiful as I felt in that moment. I knew that I had no place to act as if I could help him in any way - what could I possibly do for him?

Bucky's lips formed a tight smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I appreciate the concern. But there's nothing you can do to help me."

Right. Just as I thought.

For some reason, this statement almost made me want to cry. It was another subtle reminder of that tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had some small weighting to Bucky's life. Maybe I wasn't just a girl that Bucky came to when he wanted to let off some steam. A spark that was always being snuffed out like a candle.

Bucky left quietly and without so much as a goodbye. The room felt so much emptier without him in it.

Sometimes, I felt that Bucky might genuinely care for me.

Whenever he came to see me, it wasn't always just sex. Sometimes we would spend time together doing things like a normal couple might do - he would help me with random errands, have dinner with me, sometimes even tell me stories from his past, a glimpse into his history.

But it was hot and cold with him. Whenever I dared to let myself believe that Bucky was opening up to me, he would suddenly slam the door shut and leave me out in the cold again.

Bucky Barnes made me weak. I was so willing to give my heart to this man who didn't even know what to do with it.

We were in my apartment on a Sunday afternoon as he tinkered about with the plumbing in my bathroom, offering to help me fix it when he saw that it was leaking. I watched with a small smile on my face as I handed him various tools, watching his face scrunched up in concentration.

My phone lit-up, chiming suddenly with six consecutive notifications. Bucky saw my grimace as I glanced at the screen and switched it to silent.

"What's that?" He asked, grunting as he inspected the bathroom pipes, turning his back to me.

"Um." I paused, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. "This guy that my sister is trying to set me up with. She gave him my number and he's been pestering me." I tried to keep my voice light hearted, but the words fell out like lead. My statement was true, but I couldn't care less about this guy - I couldn't even remember his name. I was just playing the childish tactic of trying to make Bucky feel jealous.

Bucky's hands stilled, just for a second, before they resumed their movement. He couldn't have sounded less interested if he tried when he responded, "Give it a go."

I blinked, my gut twisting.

"What?"

Bucky shrugged. "Maybe dating someone will do you some good."

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I didn't know why I was always so keen to self-inflict this pain. It was as if I needed to constantly remind myself that Bucky just didn't want me in that way, until I would get the message.

"Yeah. Maybe."

When Bucky fucked me that night, he held me tighter than usual.

His forehead pressed against mine, our lips pressed together in an angry kiss, his tongue wet and hot in my mouth. He thrust inside me again and again and again, hips snapping as his hands circled themselves around my wrists, holding them above my head.

His mouth opened and he gasped, my back arching with pleasure as his cock continued to slide in and out of me, searching for release.

He came inside me with a moan, his mouth latching onto my neck to leave a hickey, marking my skin, his chest shuddering on top of mine as he came down from his high.

As usual, he left shortly after despite my quiet request for him to stay.

When my friends asked me how I would be spending my birthday, I lied and said I just wanted to spend it alone. Alone with Bucky.

I was delighted when I asked Bucky if he would have dinner with me on my birthday. He nodded and promised he would be there.

I sat in my apartment, clothed in a little red dress that I was sure Bucky would like. I was bouncing on my feet in excitement when he finally knocked on the door, and I beamed at him when I answered.

He was dressed in dark jeans, navy shirt and my favourite leather jacket of his. He looked me up and down, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile.

"You look pretty," he said unexpectedly, his voice sincere.

I blushed, my cheeks on fire. "Thank you."

This was exactly how I wanted to spend my day. With Bucky, having dinner in a tiny little French restaurant that we had both discovered one day months ago, walking along the river afterwards as the sun set. I wanted to hold his hand so much, wanted to cling onto his arm, but I knew better than to do so.

"I need to tell you something," Bucky said solemnly as I smiled. I felt so unbelievably happy with him in this moment. This was one of those moments I managed to tell myself that I could accept being his not-quite-a-lover-and-not-quite-a-friend as long as he was by my side.

"What is it?" My smile faded slowly as he met my eyes, his expression stoic.

"I want you to be happy," he said carefully. "You deserve it." The words hung in the air as I waited for him to continue, not even daring to guess what he really wanted to say. "I know how you feel about me."

"How do I feel about you?" I challenged softly. I had never said the words out loud, but I knew that he knew. I just wanted to hear him say it.

"I know you love me," he said after a long pause. The sound of the water filled the silence as I looked at him, unsure of what he would say next. "I want you to be happy, but you know I can't give that to you."

There was a long, strained silence. "Why not?" I asked, my chest tightening. I knew I was being stupid, pathetic even, just by asking the question. "You never even gave us a chance."

I don't deserve one.

"You knew from the beginning that this could never be anything more than what it is," Bucky said, his tone gentle but his eyes hard.

"Why?" I repeated, frustration bubbling.

"Because I don't do relationships," Bucky retorted, voice now sharp. His words stuck themselves into me like needles. "I want you to be happy, really. Truly. But I can't give you a happy ending."

Why did it feel like he was breaking up with me when there was no relationship to break in the first place?

"So now what?" I whispered, trying desperately not to cry. Not in front of him, please. I wanted to know if he ever felt anything for me. I wanted to know if there was ever a time where he might have considered loving me back.

"I'll be leaving the city tomorrow. For good."

I had no right to ask him to stay. Bucky Barnes was his own person, and he would do what he wanted to. I was inconsequential, a nothing. I had let myself become so caught up in this fantasy and my stupid hope, setting myself up for failure.

"Okay."

Love was such a fucking trap. Bucky had tried the whole dating thing in the past, naively thinking that maybe, he could actually find someone and get a taste of normalcy. Before he met her, he had dated a few different girls, but something never felt quite right.

And then she exploded into his life, all smiles and positivity and everything that Bucky might actually need and want.

It fucking terrified him.

He fell in love so quickly with her. It felt so easy, so right. But as soon as he made that realisation, he also knew - love was dangerous. She was so delicate, so trusting, Bucky felt like he wanted to be around her to protect her always.

But having her meant that she would always be in danger. There would always be a threat, lying dormant, until one day something would happen to her. As long as Bucky cared about her, she would always be something to lose.

Sam said he was being dumb. That he was hurting her by teasing her with Bucky's presence and yet always being just out of her reach.

Bucky was selfish. He just didn't want to let her go, even if it meant that every time she took a step forward, he would take a step back and watch her heart get crushed.

But it wasn't sustainable. He knew he had to bite the bullet and leave eventually.

He just told himself that he would do it the day after. Or the day after. Or the day after that.

He just always wanted one more day with her.

Bucky had left two months ago.

Those two months passed by like my own personal hell. The calls left unanswered, the texts left unread. I felt so pathetic as I stared at our WhatsApp conversation, my words being fired off despite telling myself that I shouldn't.

Wed 7 Dec - How are you?

Fri 9 Dec - Where are you right now? Thinking about you.

Mon 19 Dec - I know you won't answer. I don't even know why I bother you text you these. I just want to know if I ever meant anything to you.

Sat 24 Dec - I think I was so stupid to love you.

I don't know what else I expected. He was the famous Bucky Barnes, one of Earth's mightiest heroes. He was busy saving lives and doing dangerous shit, and I was - what? Some random girl who just happened to be there at one point in his life. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else who had ended up as his fuck-buddy.

The realisation was heart-wrenching. He could easily take off and leave, never answer the phone or my messages, because I was never anything important to him. He could write me out of his life, because I was just a page in his novel. To be forgotten about.

I heard about Sam's death half a year after Bucky had left.

It was plastered across the newspaper headlines. Sam had been killed on a mission in Siberia, a mission headed by himself and Bucky. The moment I heard the breaking news on the radio, my heart stopped, the grief threatening to crush me.

There was a public memorial in Washington, D.C., near the National Mall. I attended alone, travelling there alongside hundreds of thousands of other people, strangers, all wishing to pay their respects to the Falcon.

I didn't expect to see him there. I was so confident that he would be mourning him privately, away from the public eye, away from all the people.

I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the dark figure leaning against the passenger side of my door, cap on his head, leather gloves tight around his hands. I didn't even need to meet his eyes to know it was him.

There were no words exchanged. He got into my car silently as I did the same, barely daring to breathe lest he suddenly dissipate into the air like an illusion, as I was convinced he couldn't be real.

It wasn't until we got back to my hotel that he snapped. The door closed and he was there, crumpling into my arms, his own wrapped around me tightly, his face buried into my shoulder.

His tears wet my skin, ragged breathing loud and in agony.

"I'm so sorry," he moaned in a pained voice, his arms squeezing me so hard that I could barely breathe. "I am so sorry."

"Bucky," I whispered, feeling his warmth against me as I finally dared to accept that he was really here. He was really, truly here. "I got you. It's okay."

"No," he gasped, his tears soaking my shirt. I had never seen him cry before, and the vulnerability broke my heart. "I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."

His knees buckled, dragging me onto the floor with him as he cried, his arms never once letting go of me. My hands lifted to stroke his hair as his chest heaved with painful sobs.

This was the sound of a broken man. The sound of someone who had lost Steve, and now Sam, and the floodgates had finally broke.

He lifted his head to look at me, eyes bloodshot and his hands raised to cradle my face. I felt so overwhelmed by all the emotions in my heart - grief, confusion, love, relief, sadness. Everything all at once, crushing my ability to think straight. Everything felt surreal, happening at a pace that I couldn't keep up with.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered. "I wanted to keep you safe, wanted to keep you - keep you alive, want you to have a normal life, and I ruined everything. I ruined everything." The words streamed out nonsensically to me. "I had to leave, had to go before things got too bad, but I was so stupid. Being so fucking stupid. I can't lose you too. I can't lose you."

"James, breathe," I said gently, staring back at him and trying not to reveal just how worried and perplexed I was.

"You knew, right? You had to know how I felt about you, deep down," Bucky asked, pleading. I didn't answer as he continued to sob - I simply held him, letting him cry against me.

Nightfall came, and Bucky had quietened. You were both lying on the bed, fully clothed, his hand clutching yours tightly. The feeling felt unfamiliar and right at the same time.

"I have always loved you," Bucky said quietly, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

My breath hitched. He's lying, the voice of doubt said, loudly and clearly in your mind.

"I fell in love with you. How could not?" He continued, his voice pained. "But it terrified me. The feeling of being in love, of having something to lose. The knowledge that I am what I am - someone with a history, with blood on my hands, knowing I've done unspeakable things that I am so afraid for you to find out about."

I turned my head to look at him, not quite daring to believe what he was saying.

"You have no idea." He looked at me finally, his eyes still wet and tortured. "I wanted to let you know how much I loved you. I wanted to be happy with you. But I couldn't."

"Bucky..."

"But I'm tired of running away," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Leaving you was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I don't think I can survive without you." He laughed suddenly, humorlessly. "Is that selfish?"

"No," I replied instantly. My stomach swirled, and I knew he could see the doubt in my eyes with just one look.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

I remained silent for a long minute before I finally answered. "I just don't understand how you could love me."

I flinched at the rage that flashed across his face. Not quite anger at me, I realised, but fury at himself.

"I made you think that I didn't love you back," he said tersely, fists balling up. "And I will never forgive myself for that. I was playing hero but actually I was just being stubborn. Being so unbelievably stupid."

He rolled over to position himself on top of me suddenly, eyes fixed on mine. He propped himself up above me with his hands on either side of my head, eyes pleading.

"When I met you, I had no idea I could feel this way for anyone. The way you smiled at me, the way you understood me, the way you made me laugh and the way you cared. When you fell in love with me, I could feel it. I felt so special to be the one you chose.

I told myself that I couldn't let you in. I couldn't let it get too far. I couldn't tell you about myself, about my childhood, about the terrible things I've done, about the good things I've done, about the hopes and dreams I had for the future. I told myself that if I let you in, it would be too real. You would be someone that I could lose, and if i lost you, it would kill me."

"So you would rather just leave me?" I whispered, my eyes welling up at the memory of the long six months I'd endured without him.

"I thought I was keeping you safe," he replied, eyes closing briefly as he gritted his teeth.

"You broke my heart," I said simply. The statement wasn't made to hurt him, but rather just a declaration of the truth.

"I don't know what to do," Bucky said, shaking his head as his eyes revealed the conflict in his mind. "I don't want to be apart from you anymore. But I don't want to risk putting you in danger. As long as you're with me, you will always be in danger. I don't know what to do," he repeated, looking so anguished that I wanted to cry all over again.

"Please just stay," I pleaded. "Please stay with me."

Bucky kissed you finally, his chapped lips against yours, melting into you as soon as they met. He sighed shakily, as if he was finally home after a long day.

"I'll stay. I'll protect you with everything I have. I promise."

3K notes · View notes