#it's sad Wilson hours what can I say I'm so worried about them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boundforwarp · 2 years

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Abyss

It was a fun day at school, I got to see my friends, we had our last day party, everything was fun.

It turns out that I will be moving at some point during the break, which makes me a little sad, I actually really like it here in Willow. I'm going to miss playing Mario Kart 7 with my friends, everything almost seems a little too perfect despite the things that have been happening at home lately. Rei rushes over to me as we are just getting ready to go home.

"Hey Wilson, let's say we play zombies after school huh? I'm not doing anything after all today"

"Man that sounds fun, hell yeah, let's play zombies at my house"

We embark on the journey to my dad's place, a small apartment just above a homeless shelter, located right across the street from a bakery.

Stepping inside brings the sweet smell of mom making everyone something to eat, it's only 4 PM, but she loves to feed everyone throughout the day. The scent of potato skins fill our kitchen, while they aren't my favourite, everything she cooks is delicious. Thanks mom.

"Oh hey my boy! I see you brought Rei over today, how was your last day at school? Did you pass?"

She always bugs me in funny ways like that, it's a nice gesture.

'Yes I did haha, me and Rei are gonna go play games in my room if that's okay"

"Sure thing my boy, is she spending the night? Rei, did you need to use my phone just in case?"

While it wasn't clear at first, mum always had this funny way of implying things, Rei knew what she meant though. So she simply phones her parents to let them know about overnighting.

"Thanks mom, your food is so good, some day I'll be better at cooking than you!"

"You'll get there sweetie, just keep practicing okay?"

One day I'll be a really good cook. I'm still practicing, but it'll take some time. I really look forward to growing that progress with my parents in the future, they are both extraordinary cooks. I love the art almost as much as I love them.

A bit of time passes and me and Rei are playing games, enjoying our potato's and sour cream.

"Wilsooonnn, I'm going to go pick up your dad nowww, him and I are going out tonight, make sure to be in bed before sunrise, I love you"

Mum and dad will sometimes spend their nights going out. I don't know where they go or what they spend their time on, but both of them come home dressed up to extravagance. Sometimes a little bit drunk.

So it's just Rei and I, we've been playing the same match of zombies for a couple of hours, we die on round 46, the cool end game song plays and we're a little tired at this point from playing for so long.

It is 3 AM, usually both of them would be home by now, I am a little worried, but they should be fine, they are my parents after all.

"Wilson I'm pretty pooped, say we head to bed about now?"

Rei and I haven't stayed up for this long since our last summer break, it is pretty late, I can almost see the sun arising already from my window.

"Yeah, let's head to bed, hopefully we can play more tomorrow"

Not long after, we are laying on our make-shift bed on the floor, we aren't too bad when we work together on stuff like this. It's pretty comfortable, all of the lights are off and it's super dark in the house, the tiniest little bit of sun rising over the horizon through my window.

"Hey Rei?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you wanna be after you graduate?'

"Me? Well.. I don't know, probably a counsellor if I'm being honest. I like listening to people ya' know?"

This fits pretty well, I always find myself talking with Rei about things that bother me in my life. She's a pretty good listener, there were times where she's talked me out of hurting myself in the past actually.

"What do you want to be?"

I've never really thought about any of this kind of stuff, so I'm pretty short on answers.

"Uhm.. I don't know yet, I'll be fine. I just hope my parents will support me in whatever I end up doing, they're pretty lenient and don't mind if I go my own way in things I think"

"Haha yeah, your parents are pretty rad, sometimes I wish they were my parents too haha"

We laugh about it and then try to actually fall asleep.

I wouldn't be anything without my parents, for all of the mental ferocity that I've experienced so far, they've been the most supportive more or less in my patterned depression over the years.

Then the phone rings, which is odd considering how no one ever calls this late at night. It's probably mom or dad.

I pick it up.

"Hello, this is the Willow Police, is this Wilson by any chance?'

This is strange, why are the police calling us this late at night

"Uhh.. Yes, I am Wilson"

Something feels really off about this whole thing. The officer begins to speak again in a low, raspy, country tone

"Now uhhh' son', I don't know how to tell you this, but uhh' "

"Yer' parents have been in a car accident and well uhh' "

My stomach sinks, I am sure that they are both fine. There is no way anything can hurt them, they're careful beings. I love them to death.

"Yer' parents uhh' "

"They passed away in the accident"

...

This isn't real, this can't be happening. Someone must be playing some sort of prank, all I can hear is a loud high pitched ringing. This isn't actually happening. They can't be.

The officer continues to speak, but I don't understand any of the words, it's all gibberish. None of this is actually real. It can't be. Why are my eyes getting itchy, I need to scratch my eyes, they feel irritated.

"What is it about Wilson? Who is it?"

I feel like my head is being spun around in a blender. This isn't real. It can't be.

I can't go on without them, they are my everything.

There must be a way out of this.

The kitchen. I see mom's baked potato's on the counter, decrepit of any freshness, there are flies buzzing around them.

The reflection of the kitchen knife seems to be more potent than it usually is. More noticable than when I use it to cook any of my dishes.

This is it. Nothing matters.

The pain seeps into my insides, into my stomach, an ethereal feeling. I can feel a liquid coming out. It hurts.

Please forgive me Rei.

...

I wake up in the hospital, everything feels so heavy.

I try to move, but feel the worst pain imaginable.

Rei is simply beside me at the bedside, she looks like she's been crying for hours, and hugs me almost as soon as she notices that I'm awake.

"Oh my goodness Wilson, I am so happy that you're awake!"

What is she talking about?

"...Why am I here Rei, what happened?"

Rei simply holds me tightly, unable to say any further.

Then I remember.

The phone call.

That's it?

They're.

They're dead?

So I have to live with this?

For the rest of my life?

What am I going to do?

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

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caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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rogue-barnes-16 · 5 years

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SECRETS (part II/IV)

Summary: Detectives James Barnes and Y/n Y/l/n never really got along, despite being partners for seven months. You could say they hated each other, however, when James' past shows up threatening to break him all over again, the truth about their feelings comes to the surface.

Pairing: cop!Bucky Barnes x cop!Reader

Genre: angsty

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @sinviix @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack

Warnings: abusive ex-partner, mentions of toxic relationship, hungover, scars

A/N: I'm back from my brief hiatus(?) yayy! I'm still feeling super insecure about my writing so if you see something I'm doing wrong or something that I should improve, tell me. Tomorrow I'll post the next part of The Protege, but now enjoy <3.

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist (you can find part I there)

The moment my eyes fluttered open, my hands gripped the sheets I had gotten tangled with, trying to suppress a loud groan the would have just made my head pound harder.

I stirred and turned my head to the man lying besides me as a proof of the bizarre events that my mind remembered from the night before.

This time I was unable to hold back a now regretful groan, which ended up shaking him awake.

"what the- Fuck" he sat up, pressing the heels of his hands against his shut eyes. "fuck fuck fuck fuck"

I shifted my position in a way that I had a perfect view of his bare back.

And that view made my heart clench, because it made me remember what I wanted to talk about without him in first place.

It also proved me that, sadly, there was no way in hell that I was wrong. The patterns of the scars were signs of domestic violence without a doubt.

"Barnes" I called him, not daring to move. "we still have to talk." my voice sounded demanding, but still tender and quiet.

"what 'bout?" his eased voice almost made me doubt my gut feeling, because after all, those scars could be something else.

But then he put his shirt faster than normal, and before even putting on his underwear.

"Dot." his shoulders tensed for a moment, but he did his best to hide it from me. "what happened between the two of you?" I didn't want to ask it directly, so I decided to take the long way.

"c'mon Y/l/n" he let out a humorless laugh, getting up to put on his underwear and pants. "You're the smartest detective I've ever worked with" I managed to hide my surprise at the compliment and I sat up on the bed. "do you really need to fuckin' ask?"

"yeah" he glared at me, leaning over the bed to grab his jacket. "Barnes for fucks sake" I let out a groan, falling back on the bed after I had seen him get out of my apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

I got in the precinct an hour or so before my shift actually started, but, honestly, I couldn't care less.

I made a bee line to my desk, not bothering on greeting my colleagues "Hey man, are you okay?" Wilson asked, probably noticing how bad I looked like due to the hungover.

"always" I curtly replied, grabbing the manila folders Y/n had been working on, and displaying it in front of me.

"Bucky?" I didn't even need to spare a glance at Steve to see his worried gaze. "what are you doing here? You don't-"

"got a problem" I muttered low enough for only us to hear it. "I- Y/n and I-"

"Please don't tell me that-"

"yeah" I replied before he finished his question. "we were drunk and-"

"Oh c'mon man" Steve sighed and I let myself fall on the chair while he kept pacing besides me. "with her out of everyone? You had to fuck your co-worker, who you've been pinning over for the last four months?"

"Listen, jerk that's not the important thing right here" I hissed, leaning over the desk to be closer to him. "she knows."

"she knew the moment that Dot showed up" he replied, sitting over my desk. "why does it matter anymore though? The trials start in a week."

"I didn't want her to know" I confessed, running my hands over my short hair. "not now, not like this."

"well there's no going back, pal" Steve said with a sad note on his voice. "you gotta- oh, there she goes" squeezing my shoulder, he got up and walked to his own desk. "Mornin' Y/l/n. Isn't it a bit early?"

"I have work to do" she replied emotionless, looking for the folders on her desk. When she didn't find them, she silently walked to stand besides me and, leaning over my desk, she started to grab the folders.

"I won't tell anyone" she whispered in a tone much softer than I expected. "it's your place to do it so don't worry" with that, she came back to her desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was midnight and Y/n and I hadn't spoken since our brief exchange of words in the morning. Now that we were the last ones left in the department, it was impossible for us not to chat with the other.

It was Y/n who started the conversation.

"Hey listen" she called in low voice, walking to my desk to sit besides me. "I'm sorry for pushing you. I just-" she sighed, scratching her arm distractedly. "I-I just wanted to be wrong, and then" pursing her lips, she spared me a nervous look. "I don't know"

I glanced at her for a moment and, after taking a deep breath, I spoke. "I fell for her when I was really young" I stated. "Hell, I fell hard" she peaked at me, leaving the pencil she was using over the papers. "she was so charming. We got married when I was twenty-six"

"That's..." she looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face. "that's nine years"

"not really" I scratched my neck, feeling Y/n's eyes on me. "we took lots of breaks" I tried focusing on the reports in front of me. "things went south during the last three years, though. We fought. A lot." I scoffed "I loved her so I always blamed myself-"

"Bucky" she cut me off in the most tender way possible. "we- you don't- we don't have to talk about it." before I could tell her that I wanted- no, that I needed to, she spoke again. "unless you want to."

I nodded. "one day I came home late. We argued and she... Uh... Slapped me." I shrugged, not daring to look at Y/n. "and I thought, she's worried, don't mind it." Y/n stayed quiet for me to tell her the rest of the story. "slaps turned into things being thrown at me, and then... Well, you already saw it."

"Your back." I nodded at her guess. "Bucky, those are some serious scars." I just shrugged, not knowing what to answer. "what the hell did she use?"

"what does it look like?"

"I didn't look at them enough to-" I started to unbutton my shirt to take it off. "you sure of what you're doing?" I nodded, leaving the shirt aside. "Okay uh" she stood up and hesitantly traced the scars with her fingers "those three ones gotta be from a belt."

"they are"

"well then she's strong as fuck" I let out a nervous chuckle while she inspected the rest of the scars. "this one... Did she stab you"

My nod was almost unnoticeable "That's the last one"

"I wanna believe that this burn here" her fingers ghosted over it. "isn't one of them." she sighed, grabbing my shirt and handing it to me.

I realized too late my hands were shaking too much for me to be able to button up my shirt. When she noticed this, she kneeled in front of me and did it for me.

"the last time we were together, she ended up stabbing me" her jaw clenched.

"I'm guessing she came here" she got up and came back to her chair. "because you brought a lawsuit against her?"

I nodded, clenching my fists a few times in an attempt to calm my nerves. "she showed up in my house yesterday. That's why I was in the bar."

READER'S P. O. V.

"what are you gonna do tonight?" That question didn't really need to be asked, but still, I did.

"I'll stay in the break room" he replied distracted. "tomorrow I'll figure something"

Without thinking twice, I casually suggested "come to my place"

He shot me a perplexed glance "and then what?" before I could even think about replying, he spoke again. "we fuck again?"

I couldn't help but snort with a note of bitterness in my laugh. "I'm trying to be nice, what the fuck was that?"

"not sure" he muttered absently, a frown forming between his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I think I'm too tired"

I sighed "yeah, me too" I looked up at the clock and, taking a deep breath, I spoke again "we should go home"

"we?"

"yeah" I got up, not wanting to face him for some reason I could not pinpoint. "You're staying at my place remember?"

"Y/n" he called me "there's still a week left for the trials"

"I think" I grabbed my things and put on my jacket "that we're more than capable of standing each other for a week"

I heard him standing up and I finally turned around to face him again. "Y/n, you don't have to-"

"Oh shut up" I said cut him off, throwing him his jacket. "I bet if it was Steve, you wouldn't be so hesitant"

"of course I wouldn't" he admitted, letting out a chuckle. "he's my bestfriend"

"then- I dunno" I shrugged with a grin on my face while we made our way out. "pretend I'm Steve, but stop complaining"

"That's-" he snorted falling into step with me. "that's so fucking weird"

"why? 'cause we fucked?" there was a beat of silence, but when I looked at him, we both burst into fit laughs.

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

"yeah, because we fucked" I confirmed, looking ahead of us with a smile dancing on my lips. "Where's your place, by the way?"

"what the hell? you were there last night." she shook her head a couple of times with a grin pulling the corners of her mouth. "I guess you were too drunk."

"so were you"

"yeah, but I still know where's my place" she stated proudly.

"what the f- Y/n, that's because it's your place." a snort escaped her lips. "which way, genius?"

"This way, jerk" she placed a hand on my back to guide me and, despite the thick jacket, I could still feel it's warm.

It was in that moment that I realized her touch somehow soothed me, and I found myself wishing she didn't let go of me.

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