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sserpente · 4 years

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Ablaze (Part II)

A/N: I am way too excited about this TV series. I wonder how many theories will make sense in the end. Here goes Part II, enjoy everyone! ♥

Read Part I here.

Words: 4138 Warnings: there’s going to be a gory corpse

A dark scream ripped you from your uneasy sleep. Alarmed, you sat up straight, ready to defend yourself with the next-best weapon within your reach—a table lamp, in this case. But there was no one there to hurt you. Instead, you noticed Loki, the god who was practically holding you hostage in your own flat after setting the headquarters of TVA, the secret organisation monitoring the multiverse, on fire, thrashing in bed right next to you as if he was possessed. Wait… was he… dreaming?

“No…” He growled. “No!”

Still giddy, you switched on the table lamp and studied the heavily breathing Trickster by your side. His blue eyes were closed. So he was having a nightmare. Should you… should you wake him? What if he accidentally hurt you in his frenzy?

Biting your lower lip, and with your heart pounding in your chest like a steam hammer, you reached for him, carefully grabbing his bare shoulder. The singeing sensation of his remarkably cool skin under your palm made you flinch.

“L-Loki? Loki, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

You gasped for air, terrified, when he opened his eyes with a start, momentarily disoriented. His hand darted forward to snatch your wrist so firmly it hurt. You winced.

“Loki…”

It took him another moment to realise you were no threat to him. Finally, his deadly expression softened. His breath was shaky, sweat pooling on his forehead, his neck and even his chest, shimmering in the artificial light of your table lamp. It was, quite strangely, a sight which would have aroused you if it wasn’t for the fact he was a war and time criminal, held you captive and could have killed you in his sleep just a moment ago. God, how could you even think about his looks in this whole horrifying situation?

With a start, Loki let go of his wrists as if hot flames were licking at his cold fingers, defending your body.

He said nothing more. Instead, he merely turned his back to you again… almost as if nothing had happened at all. You would never find out that he noticed you spent the majority of the rest of the night wide awake. But so did he.

Drowsily, you blinked against the gentle sunlight fighting its way through your curtains. It was a beautiful morning, peaceful. You sat up, your eyes registering an empty mug and a dark stain on your carpet.

Your heart skipped a beat when you remembered. Last night, you had involuntarily fallen asleep next to the God of Mischief who had taken you hostage in your own flat after destroying TVA’s headquarters like a house made of LEGO bricks. You remembered his nightmare, too. The way he had had jerked and grunted, almost as if his own subconscious was inflicting serious pain on him… as if it was torturing him. What, for Heaven’s sake, caused such terrifying bad dreams? What… what had he been through opening and travelling through all those portals on your radar?

You were in danger, serious danger so. You had no clue if Loki planned to kill you anytime soon. If he forced you into doing his biddings with violence… no. No, he did not seem like the sort of person who would physically harm women simply for the sake of it. There were limits even to his malice, you were sure of it. Or at least, that was what you were hoping.

As expected, and much to your relief, the other side of the bed was empty, the sheets unmade. You could hear him in the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards almost frantically. With your heart in your mouth, you made your way into the kitchen.

“Is there anything edible in your accommodation?” He complained, shutting the fridge shut without even spinning around to face you. “Where is the sweet hot chocolate mixture you used last night?”

“In the cupboard above the counter.” I mean, what was the point of lying? He would find it anyway, at some point, only angrier. You almost snorted at the thought of trading your survival for hot chocolate.

“Make us something to eat. I need sustenance.”

Make us something to eat? You clenched your fists, eyeing the coffee machine in the corner of the kitchen and wondering if you were less likely to risk your life by talking back once you had pumped your body full of caffeine.

Your heart was pounding. You barely dared to move around him. Loki glared at you but said nothing. It was like he felt you remembering what had happened last night.

“If you lose a word about what you witnessed last night…” He growled darkly.

“Don’t threaten me,” you whispered weakly. “It’s not like I have anyone left to tell anyway.” You paused, curious whether he was going to reply. He did not. “I-I’m having cereal.” You said, despite your lack of appetite. “You can have a bowl too.” As if I had a choice sharing my food with you…

You had just poured some milk into both your cereal bowls when a loud song ripped apart the tense silence in the kitchen. Your phone! Your eyes widened. Oh God, you still had your phone! How could you have been so stupid?

Starting for the living room, you were panting by the time you picked up. It was Isabelle, one of your co-workers. A fellow agent who must have survived! Your hands were shaking.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)! Thank the Lord, you’re okay.”

“So are you! I-I am… more or less, I…” You did not need to turn around to feel his presence behind you. Loki was eyeing you threateningly, circling you slowly. The message was clear—if you told anyone he was here, you would be in some serious trouble. You swallowed thickly.

“Do you… do you know who else made it out?”

“I’ve been on the phone all morning but nothing’s confirmed yet. They’re optimistic but Jed is devastated. He’s trying to get us all back on track… whoever’s left of us, anyway.” Jed was your boss, more or less, guiding your missions and keeping a neat overview over everything that happened within TVA. You eyed Loki from the corners of his eyes, looking for anything to ease your mind. A hint of remorse, perhaps. Regret, pity, anything would have sufficed. He was like an impenetrable wall.

“Can you meet us? By the river? Jed is already on his way.”

“W-why?”

“We found traces of another portal but…”

“But what?!”

“This time… there is… (Y/N), someone has been murdered.” You took a sharp breath. Ever since Loki’s capture, you had almost forgotten about those mysterious portals that seemed to keep appearing out of nowhere. For a moment there, you had all assumed it had been Loki himself, repeatedly using the Tesseract. Given that he had been with you last night, however, and before that, had spent his time in custody at TVA’s headquarters... before he had… burned them all down… it could not possibly have been him. You swallowed. For once, you knew that he was innocent. There was someone else still out there. And they were, so it appeared, equally dangerous. “Where are you right now?”

It was then Loki snatched the phone from your grasp, clutching it so tightly the screen cracked… and went black. Fuck. You should have screamed bloody murder the minute you had picked it up.

“W-what…”

“Do you truly think I will let you tell them about your whereabouts so lightly?” He snarled.

“They will get suspicious if I don’t show up!” You yelled, your lower lip shaking.

“Show up where?”

“T-the crime scene. There has been a murder.”

Loki frowned. “I believed you are monitoring time travel, not petty crimes.”

Slowly, you shook your head. Murder was hardly petty. Well… perhaps it was to him, given you were only humans. Swallowing your anger, you looked up at him with courage. “We normally don’t but…”

“But?” He probed strictly when you trailed off. You flinched.

“There… we have repeatedly recorded interdimensional portals. They interfere with our readings. Something is… off about this and now someone is dead and I… we have been trying to find out what it is even before you came along and destroyed our headquarters, you know.” It was just that SHIELD wouldn’t let you. It was a fight over power and recognition, really.

“I want to see it.” Loki stated simply. Your eyes widened. “How many portals have there been?”

“Thirteen.”

“You believe they have a harmful cause?”

“We don’t know that yet. We are monitoring everything. Those energy waves did not go unnoticed by our radars, they are going to start tearing time and reality apart if we don’t stop whoever is creating them. SHIELD has already…”

Loki’s face distorted.

“You work with SHIELD?”

“We do, if we must but we prefer to keep our distance.”

He rolled his eyes. “I see. When did the first portals begin to appear?”

“A few weeks ago. Whoever it is… I don’t think they realise that they are being watched.” Hugging yourself, you took the opportunity to move away from him a little, watching from a safer distance how he pensively looked out of the window. Suddenly, the weather did not at all fit the depressing situation you were in, let alone the topic you were talking about.

“Yes… I can imagine that.”

“W-what?” You frowned. “What do you mean by that? Do you know who it could be? Is it one of your allies?”

Loki’s gaze darted back to you—seriously. “I don’t have allies,” he spat. “I shall join you.”

“You can’t just… walk in on a crime scene unauthorised.”

“I just walked into your flat, did I not?” He mocked.

“They will recognise you.” You argued, voice shaking audibly.

“They will not.” Loki smirked. “No one but you will be able to see who I truly am.”

Fuck. Did you have a choice? After what he had done last night… could you refuse him? You sighed, defeated. No. Probably not.

There were thunders in the distance when you left, the initially blue sky slowly turning grey. Heavy clouds pushed in front of the sun, blocking its light from reaching Earth. That is more like it. If you got suspended today because you brought a war criminal to a crime scene revealing important details about another potential threat, at least it would not happen in broad and warm sunlight.

You were nervous. No, you were terrified. If there was one thing your boss did not accept, it was weakness and fear of what might happen if you chose to prioritise your survival over protecting life in the multiverse. It sounded cruel and ridiculously altruistic but you had known what you got yourself into with working for TVA. There was only one thing worse than egoism. And that was treason.

Yet here you were now, approaching a crime scene with a criminal who had ensured you he would be looking like a normal Midgardian man to anyone you met. Spotting SHIELD first thing you arrived did not exactly ease your nerves. Taking a shaky breath, you approached them. Rain was falling by now, wetting the asphalt and your clothes. At least, part of your uniform was waterproof.

You could tell Loki was watching you intently as you tensed the closer you got. He was dressed in a surprisingly inconspicuous police uniform—plain beige trousers and a white shirt, a black tie and an equally beige police jacket with a badge.

Luckily enough, Jed arrived just when the SHIELD agent, Jeff, so you knew, lifted his arms to stop you from stepping over the barrier tape despite your ID. With his blonde hair fluttering in the wind, he looked a little like Owen Wilson. He even sounded a little like him too.

“What are you doing here, TVA?” Jeff groaned with dismay. “This is our crime scene. You have no business here.”

“Shut it. The energy readings we keep getting from these portals say something different. They have been interfering with our radars for weeks now. We can’t keep the world safe from potential threats in time and the multiverse if we can’t observe it properly. So I disagree. This is our crime scene too. Now get out of my way.” He paused, turning to you. “(Y/N), I’m glad to see you’re well.”

“You too.” You replied with a court nod.

“Who is that?”

“Uh… He is, uh, with the… the police.” You lied quickly. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Help me, you attempted to scream with your eyes. You must realise that something is wrong! But he did not.

“Luke.” Loki jumped in, letting his charm do all the work as he offered Jed his hand. He took and shook it, his initial suspicion dying down once the God of Mischief gave him a sly smile.

“Right. Pleased to meet you, Sir. We’ll do our best to get the situation under control, then I promise we’ll leave you to it. A lot of my agents have been in a critical state in the hospital since that Asgardian arsehole escaped from us last night. There is no excuse for that faux-pas but he is… difficult to say the least. It’ll take us a while to make amends.”

“Asgardian arsehole?” Jeff interrupted. “What are you talking about? The war criminal Loki was taken back to Asgard by Thor years ago.”

Jed pressed his lips together to a thin line. “It’s complicated.”

Panicking, you gasped for air but much to your surprise, Loki did nothing whatsoever. He only smiled—maliciously so.

“I am deeply sorry for your loss.” He stated hollowly, making you swallow thickly. If Jed only knew… “So? What is it that interferes with your radars, agent?”

“We don’t know. It almost feels like…” Jed looked at you.

“As if there are remnants of… magic… it’s crackling.” The both of you were unable to tell him more than you already had. As a TVA agent, you were not dealing with murders often. Accidents, yes but actual murder? Hardly, fortunately.

Loki lifted his chin. “Show me this corpse.”

“Here,” you announced, taking a step back when you felt the energy waves pushing against every fibre of your skin. You had been focused not to give the dead body surrounded by barrier tape and a pool of blood more glances than absolutely necessary, to ignore the dreadful and almost sweet stench of decay. It had been… cut in half. The victim must have tried to enter the portal after whoever had created it—but had been too slow to make it through entirely. Scrunching up your nose, you resisted a gag. You were a TVA agent, for Goodness sake. Pull yourself together. There are worse things. Just like being kept hostage by a dangerous god without anyone even knowing. It certainly was a good sign he had not harmed you as of yet though, no? What, however, would happen once you got a chance to tell Jed the truth? Would he kill you after all? Set your flat on fire as well?

Gulping, you wiped your sweaty palms on your trousers, your heart speeding up in your chest when you felt his presence behind you. His body temperature was remarkably cool, yet you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him, making you feel small and powerless next to him. Still, there was this tiny part of you—a barely audible voice whispering in your mind—that enjoyed the fear and the excitement that came with being Loki’s… captive.

The urge to slap yourself rose.

“What causes this?” You managed to choke out.

You watched, almost in awe, how he brought up his palm to touch the remaining energy waves your radars had recorded prior to arriving at the crime scene. Unlike yours, however, his palms began to shimmer in a green light.

“It is unlike the gamma radiation the Tesseract emits. It’s more… crackling. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, it makes perfect sense.” Loki replied matter-of-factly. “The crackling, as you describe it, is of magical origin. On Asgard, we call it seidr. Few can wield it, fewer are able to take their skills beyond simple tricks.”

“What… are you saying that whoever is creating these portals is Asgardian too?”

“I am not…” Loki took a deep breath and pressed his lips together to a thin line before speaking on. “They might be. I only know one person who would be capable of finding a way to open doors to other realities like that.”

Glancing at him in utter shock, you waited for him to continue. He did not. Instead, he directed his attention at the person approaching you before you even registered the footsteps on the wet asphalt yourself. You were hauled into a hug, all air pressed from your lungs and your eyesight blocked by waves of her long ginger hair.

“Isabelle!”

“Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again! The connection was lost and when I tried to call you back, I could only reach your voicemail. What happened? I thought Loki attacked you!”

Well, technically… you swallowed thickly. “No, I, um… I was doing the washing up to distract myself from… you know… and the phone fell into the sink. I put it in a bowl of rice, it should be fine again tomorrow.” There went another lie. You would have to buy a new phone and you sincerely doubted that Loki would let you. Next to you, the God of Mischief chuckled maliciously. Bastard.

“Who are you?” Isabelle frowned at him.

“Luke. Officer Luke.”

“He’s with the… police.”

“I see. You are here alone?” She probed suspiciously.

“I am. I am merely here to ensure things are… taken care of, so to speak.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. Your superiors are familiar with our work and how significant it is for all our wellbeing.” Loki only raised his eyebrows in a seemingly unimpressed manner.

You wondered, briefly, what would happen if you screamed bloody murder and warned her about him, gave away his identity. Would he kill you straight away? Torture you first? After he had set the TVA headquarters on fire, anything was possible. Bruce Banner had not been wrong. That man’s mind was like a bag full of cats.

“Where is the rest of our team?” You asked her instead. “Have they still not arrived? Jed said a lot of them are being treated in the hospital but…”

“They’re busy finding Loki.”

“Do you, um…” Your voice was shaky. Clearing your throat, you continued despite his threatening presence right beside you. “I didn’t dare to ask Jed back there.” Or Loki, for that matter. “How many agents died in the fire?”

“Only two. Pete and Roth.” The very same agents who had caught Loki. Loki barely put any effort into hiding his satisfaction. Clearly, he had planned this. Taken his revenge. It made you wonder what else he’d have in store for this world even without you spilling his dirty secret. But then again… you remembered how vulnerable he had looked last night in his sleep. There had to be more. So much more.

A loud and alarming bleeping tore through the crispy air with a start. Both Isabelle und you flinched, turning your heads towards the computer station Jed had by now stationed at the crime scene with the help of another agent. The radar was blinking red and purple, the noise downright ear-piercing.

“Jed, what is it?” Isabelle covered her ears.

“Another portal opened.” Loki answered for him, his expression hardening.

“What?! When?! Now?”

He did not reply—instead, he turned on his heel and ran, presumably straight towards the source of the readings.

“Officer! Officer Sir, no, it’s too dangerous! Officer! Damn it. (Y/N), stay where you are!” But you weren’t listening either. You hurried after him, for what reason you did not know yourself. Loki was perfectly capable of defending himself—you were not. If what he had said was true and there was another Asgardian wreaking havoc in this city, you’d do well to leg it and flee. Besides… why would you care? If he died playing curiosity kills the cat, your entire organisation had one problem less to deal with. Why, for Heaven’s sake, did part of you feel like you owed him in spite of this nerve-wrecking fear?

“Stay back!” He yelled.

Gnashing your teeth, you stopped dead in your tracks, blinded by the bright green lights illuminating the narrow alley Loki had run off into.

The energy the portal was radiating was numbing, almost. Like an invisible wall you were trying to step closer, tensing every single muscle in your body to no avail. Loki, however, seemed to have no problems approaching the hazardous time threat at all.

Finally, a tall, blonde woman stepped through. The portal closed behind her, drowning the alley in rainy darkness once more. The impact of the energy ebbing away nearly knocked you off your feet. Right before you could fall, however, a strong and cold hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you up again seemingly without any effort whatsoever. Gazing up, bedazzled, you met Loki’s serious and reproachful glare.

“I told you to stay back.” He growled, his grip around your wrist almost painful. It was the one already forming a bruise from his sleepy attack last night. He let go as if he had burned himself when he noticed, leaving you there all exhausted and trembling. It was then an almost soft voice sounded behind him, making him stiffen and go pale—if only just a little. Your lips parted.

“By Odin’s beard… Loki?!”

The God of Mischief took a deep breath. “Sylvie.” He too, was surprised, to say the least. Yet if there was one thing Loki was really good at, it was hiding his feelings. So they knew each other. Just great.

“I would recognise that mischievous voice anywhere. What in the nine realms happened to your face?” With some words, it almost sounded like she had a lisp.

“An illusion. I am a fugitive, so it seems.”

“Oh, what have you done now, hmm?” Her laughter tore through the dark alley, next you thing you witnessed she had already thrown herself into his arms, her feet dangling in the air. Loki, albeit hesitantly, reciprocated the hug. “I missed you! Midgard is so boring without you.” She pouted. Never before had you felt as redundant as you did now. It seemed to have been your cue.

“Oh, not again…” She suddenly complained, her brown eyes finding you standing in the background. She glared at you darkly. “Didn’t you see what happened to the last human who attempted to follow me? You would do well to leave me alone if you do not wish to suffer from the same fate.”

“You look very human to me.” At least she was dressed human, unlike Loki when they had first found and brought them to your headquarters.

“Well, I am not. I am Asgardian.” Loki opened his mouth. He never got to say what he intended to.

“Put your hands up in the air and no harm will come to you!” It was Jed’s voice that ripped you all from this uncomfortable and undoubtedly dangerous situation. His gun was aimed at the blonde who rolled her eyes in response. “Officer, step away from her, please! She is likely a hostile!”

The curse Loki uttered sounded a lot like he had spoken it in a foreign language. “We need to leave, now. They have weapons which immobilise even me—long enough for them to shackle you.”

“What? Those meagre mortals? Oh, please…” While the strange woman crossed her arms, Loki reacted already. Unceremoniously, he pulled out the Tesseract out of… seemingly nowhere—your heart skipped a beat when it appeared in his hand and he held it without any sort of protection—and offered her his arm. The woman’s eyes widened. Without any hesitation, she took it. And then, everything happened at once.

“Sir, what are you… the Tesseract. This is Loki! Everyone, this is Loki! Fuck!” More guns were aimed at you all, a low chuckle from the God of Mischief sending ice-cold shivers up and down your spine.

“Wait, don’t shoot! (Y/N) is in the line of fire!” Isabelle’s ear-piercing scream barely reached you when the first gunshots tore through the air as wild as a swarm of wasps. So this was it. You would be shot by your own colleagues and a handful of SHIELD agents.

The last thing you expected Loki to do, however, was to grab you, pull you flush against him and tear you with him into the unknown.

A/N: Stay tuned for Part III!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years

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Passing Out

When Matty calls you to the War Room, you don't stop to tell her that you're feeling a little rough. Even if you definitely, definitely should.

Part eight of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3.

If she was telling the truth, Riley hadn’t really been feeling up to a mission when they got called in. She’d woken up with a niggling headache and even two cups of coffee hadn’t been enough to properly offset the drowsiness clinging about her shoulders. Worse, all of her joints were aching quietly, like she’d somehow managed to sleep in the most uncomfortable position known to man and was now paying the price for it, despite the fact that she’d slept solidly through the night undisturbed.

Regardless, when Matty sent a message telling her to get to the War Room, she hauled ass with everyone else and didn’t even think to utter a complaint. It wasn’t until she was boarding the jet and found herself staring up at the overhead luggage rack, wishing her bag could magically lift itself up there, that she suddenly realised this was almost certainly a bad idea.

It was probably just a cold or something, she told herself, perhaps a little fatigue build-up from too many missions in the last month – nothing serious. Nothing worth bothering the others over and certainly not something she should use as an excuse to get out of going to Peru with everyone else. Besides, for the plan to work they needed her. She couldn’t let them down.

“Hey, earth to Ri,” Jack called, dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder and making her jump. He instantly withdrew, holding the hand up in surrender. “Hey, woah, you alright?”

“Uh, yeah,” she said, trying to patch over her flinch with a sheepish smile. “Daydreaming, I guess. Sorry.”

Apparently her act wasn’t convincing enough. Jack squinted at her with one of those intense looks he always got when he knew something was up and he was trying to pinpoint exactly what it was. He was always scarily good at doing it, too.

“You sure you’re alright? You’re looking kinda pale.”

“Wow, thanks,” she muttered sarcastically, snatching at her suitcase as a distraction.

Jack’s hands darted out to take it from her instead, hefting it onto the rack as though it weighed nothing at all, despite the fact there were two back-up rigs in there with enough spare parts between them to build a whole other laptop if she needed. Even though she was vaguely annoyed by his hovering, she couldn’t help but be grateful he’d saved her the task. Her shoulders really were bothering her.

“I don’t mean nothing by it, you know that,” he said dismissively once the bag was settled. “I’m just worried about you. You’d tell me if something was going on, right?”

Sudden, sharp guilt bubbled up in the pit of her stomach as she forced herself to smirk. “Are you always such a worrier?”

“With you and Mac around? Hell yeah! Someone’s got to keep you kids from running into traffic.”

“Oh my god Jack, that was one time,” Mac put in loudly from the other end of the plane. “You’ve got to let it go.”

Jack’s attention was immediately diverted, and Riley had to stop herself from letting out a relieved breath. Trust Mac to come through for her when he didn’t even know he was doing it.

With Jack busy delivering a put-upon rant to a mostly bemused Mac, she was free to settle herself in her usual seat and get her laptop set up in front of her. She couldn’t do a lot to cover it if she really was pale, but at least with her rig she had a solid cover for sitting quietly and minding her own business – it was her usual go-to strategy for getting through long flights. Besides, she’d planned to go over their game plan again anyway.

Of course, she then immediately encountered another issue: what had been a mild headache in the back of her skull pulsed sharply the second she looked at her screen, the light burning her eyes. She squinted, wincing, but it did little to help. The pain was still bearable, but she had an instinctive feeling that if she had to keep looking at the screen for a lot longer, it was going to get worse. It was one thing to go into a mission feeling a little run down, but actively letting herself deteriorate on an infil flight was something else altogether. Putting her laptop away might raise questions, but she wasn’t stupid enough to run the risk of letting the others walk into danger when she might not be ready to back them up.

She shut her laptop with a decisive click.

Behind it, two feet away on the other side of the small table, Bozer was staring at her like she was the mystery at the heart of the universe.

“What?”

He raised an eyebrow, and said nothing.

“What?”

Still, nothing.

“Boze, I swear-”

“You know,” he interrupted like she hadn’t even been speaking, “It’s okay to say you’re not up for this if you’re feeling down.”

If she’d been smart about it, she wouldn’t have reacted; as it was, she couldn’t stop herself from shooting an alarmed look in Jack’s direction to make sure he was still too busy hassling Mac to be listening in. From the knowing look in Boze’s eyes, he’d definitely caught the slip.

“Like I told Jack, I’m perfectly fine,” she hissed, wishing that she actually felt it. The scrutiny only seemed to be making her feel worse – there was a warm blush rising on her skin that she wanted to write off as embarrassment, but likely had more to do with how overly-warm she was starting to get.

“And he didn’t believe you. Neither do I.”

“Boze, it’s going to be a long flight. Just leave me alone?”

He leaned back in his chair, visibly weighing up whether she trying to divert his attention or if she was genuinely frustrated at the pestering. In truth it was a little of both – she knew that she wasn’t in top form and it was a really bad idea to not at least let the others know that, but at the same time, she was sure that she had to do this. Her job in Peru would mostly be sitting around on her laptop and provided her headache didn’t get worse, she was perfectly capable of that. If she told Jack that she wasn’t feeling up to par then she wouldn’t entirely put it past him to get Matty to turn the plane around.

“Look,” she said, keeping her voice low to keep from drawing Jack’s attention, “I’m a bit tired, that’s all. I’m in for this mission one hundred percent. I was just hoping to get some shut eye on the way over there to be in the best shape I can be. Please, please just let this go.”

For once, Bozer’s expression was entirely serious as he took her in. After a long, tense moment he nodded. “Okay. I trust you. Just- let us know if anything gets worse, alright? I know Jack can be- well, Jack, but we’re all on your side here.”

Without waiting for her to formulate some sort of response to that – and god knows what that would even look like – he jumped out of his chair with an energy she wished she had and wandered over to insert himself in Mac and Jack’s conversation. A few minutes later, when she’d closed her eyes and leaned her chair back to try to get the sleep she’d asked for, she heard Jack muttering a quick aside to Bozer:

“Hey, is she doing okay?”

Riley tensed for a heartbeat, but it turned out she should have had more faith in her friend. “Yeah, she’s fine. Just catching up on a bit of sleep before we land. Can we do anything about getting Matty to stop calling us in at six in the morning?”

There was a quiet round of laughter, the comment launching Mac into a series of tales about the ridiculousness of their working hours when they were on rotation. That Jack didn’t join in immediately was telling, but he didn’t contradict what Boze had said and no one came to disturb her so he must have bought it at least a little.

Fortunately, Riley didn’t have long to ponder it. By the time they cleared California airspace, she was already asleep.

The mission was mostly a bust, in that their primary target had managed to flee the country before they’d even touched down, but there was still important information to ferret out. Fortunately, with the main head honcho gone, the rest of his men didn’t put up much of a fight and between them, Mac and Jack were able to get what they needed and get out without a single scratch between them. Bozer and Riley, confined to backup and technical support respectively, got to spend most of their time hiding out in a dingy hotel room with absolutely nothing exciting going on.

For perhaps the first time since joining the Phoenix, Riley was endlessly grateful for that. She’d hoped the sleep on the plane would help her get over whatever it was going on with her, but if anything it seemed to have made things worse. Her headache had increased ten-fold, to the point that even thinking about looking at her laptop made her feel distantly nauseous, and a sore throat had crept in to join the stuffy nose and creaking joints. She’d managed to explain away her persistent flush by citing Peru’s summer sunshine, but she knew that wasn’t the truth and from the sideways glances Bozer had been throwing her, he knew it too. Fortunately he’d been smart enough not to mention it on comms, or she might just have hit him.

Exhausted and feeling worse with every passing minute, she didn’t think she’d ever been more relieved when she and Bozer stepped out of their cab onto the airstrip. Mac and Jack were standing around by the steps to the jet, waiting for them.

“There you are,” Jack called when they were within earshot. “What kept you?”

“The hotel was on the other side of the city, Jack,” Bozer reminded him, clapping a hand to Mac’s shoulder in greeting. “Some of us had further to go.”

“Sure, sure. It wasn’t that you were leaving us to do all the work or anything.” Jack jostled his shoulder against Bozer’s, apparently thrilled that their mission had gone so utterly without note.

Beside them, Riley was staring at the stairs of the jet wondering just how exactly she was going to haul herself up them. Her skin felt too hot and the car journey over here had ratcheted up her nausea to the point she was reflexively swallowing every few seconds. Her vision was spinning idly too, which was doing absolutely nothing to help with the dizzy spells she’d been fighting off since they’d left the hotel.

Someone called her name, or perhaps something like it, but it sounded much further away than she’d expected. Had the others gone on without her? She turned her head to look, but as soon as she did, what little vision she was still clinging to whirled away in a cloud of black. She had a heartbeat to ponder that undesirable state of affairs, then the heat surged and her legs turned to water.

She was unconscious before she even started to fall.

She woke to find herself stretched out on the jet’s couch, her head pillowed on something soft that she rapidly identified as someone’s lap. A warm, familiar hand was stroking her hair. She remembered, distantly, waking in this exact position a thousand years ago when she was still young and naïve and trusting – and just like then, a tiny piece of her mind wished fiercely that she’d never have to leave it.

“Jack?” She asked quietly, her voice rasping faintly.

“There you are,” he responded, equally softly. He sounded watery with relief, but the hand didn’t stop its gentle path through her curls. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You’re okay. We’re heading home and you’re safe and sound, I promise.”

Inexplicably, she felt a sudden urge to weep. Here she was, cradled and cared for, and she hadn’t even had the decency to tell him that she’d been feeling ill. She didn’t deserve his comfort. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey now, none of that.” A second hand brushed soothingly up and down her arm. “Everything’s okay. You’re going to be just fine. You just rest up – we’ll be home before you know it.”

“Should have told you,” she said miserably, too cowardly to even open her eyes as she said it. She didn’t want to bear his frustration when she already felt so thoroughly awful and worn out.

“It’s okay, darling, don’t you worry about that right now. I’m not mad. You hearing me? I’m not angry or upset, I just want you to be alright. So quit worrying about any of that and get some more rest if you can. There’s a med team waiting for us in LA to look you over, but they think you’ve probably caught the flu. All you’ve gotta do right now is relax, okay?”

“Flu?” That couldn’t be right, could it? She’d been feeling off, sure, but it really hadn’t been that bad. If she’d thought it was anything serious, she would have said something.

“You spiked a fever,” he explained with what could only have been intentional calm. “You’re going to be feeling pretty rough for a few days, but you don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling small. She thought she should be relieved at his lack of anger, but somehow it just made her feel worse. Like she knew she hadn’t earned his forgiveness, and he was insisting on giving it anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“I told you Ri, you don’t need to be. I’m not mad. You just focus on getting better and I’ll be right as rain.”

He sounded genuine and this time she couldn’t help it; a few tears slipped out from under closed eyelids to wet the fabric under her cheek. It did nothing to make her feel less infantile, but her body was aching and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and she felt utterly powerless to fix any of those problems. Childishly, she just wanted Jack to make her feel better.

“Hey, shh,” he soothed lowly. “It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

The string of comforting platitudes continued, not really saying anything but acting as a constant reminder that she was not alone while she struggled desperately to reassert control over her emotions. It was harder than it should have been, with fatigue and malaise fighting her every step of the way, but she did eventually get the tears under control. The same instant that she did, exhaustion was right there waiting for her.

“That’s it,” Jack murmured, “You get some rest. We’ll be right here if you need us.”

Comforted despite herself and more weary than she could ever remember being, Riley took him at his word. She burrowed herself down a little, relishing the feel of fingers lightly brushing against her scalp and sighed.

This time, when sleep rose to meet her, she was waiting to greet it like an old friend.

#MacGyver #riley davis #hurt riley davis #jack dalton #wilt bozer #fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfic #whump of july 2021

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buckyreaderrecs · 4 years

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So Far Away: Chapter 6/?

Summary: Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!

First chapter in series. Previous chapter.

Chapter 6: A day in the life of Bucky, while he watches over your grief-stricken sleeping body.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Cecilia Reyes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting, Alpine the cat, other Marvel characters mentioned but not central to the plot Warnings: major triggers for death of loved ones and grief, possible trigger for food, prescription medication

Note: Okay, so Bucky’s suite in Stark Tower is mapped out in my mind. I have a sketched floorplan if you wanna see it? Lemme know in the reblogs/replies/messages. Also, there is a note at the end of this chapter; pls read. Love yas!

So Far Away Chapter 6/?

Gasping for air, you sat up, scrambled around in the darkness and screamed for your mum.

The lamp came on, lighting up the bedroom and bringing Bucky into focus. "Y/N, Y/N, come here. Come on." His arms were around you, pulling you to him. "Stop. Stop. You're gonna hurt yourself." He kept trying to secure your broken hand, but you were still yelling, trying to crawl away. Not sure what else to do, he let you go. You pushed yourself right off the bed, landing half the right way up. Standing, you looked around. What were you trying to do? Where were you trying to go?

You studied everything in the room, looking for clues.

Door. You ran, stood at the threshold, finding no answers in the darkness beyond. A dresser covered in books and journals. A record player, and stacks of vinyl. Beside table. Glass and of water. Clock. 3:27 am. A city behind a window wall. A bed. Huge. Bucky, sitting with his legs arched, defeated.

He watched you walk around the room lost and confused. But, maybe it was progress.

…

After you balled up against the wall in the lounge room, screamed until your throat burnt, you passed out. It took hours though. Bucky considered calling for Cecilia. A sedative might have eased your pain. But, your pain was so new, so private. He decided it wasn't his place to invite anyone else into it yet. So, he waited.

Once you'd fallen asleep and he promised to look after you, he carried you to the bed and sat by your side. It was quiet in the bedroom; Bucky hadn't felt the calm of quiet for a while. He missed it. So too had Alpine, apparently. The cat came slinking into the room, refusing to look at Bucky.

"Fuck," Bucky said under his breath. "Where have you been hiding?"

Sometimes, when he knew nobody was around, Bucky would talk to the cat like he knew what he was saying. That night, while you slept, he told Alpine about you. As he heaped a double serving of food into a bowl, he apologised for forgetting breakfast. It was the first time he'd ever forgotten a meal. When he went out on missions, there was a roster of people tasked with looking after the fluffy white thing that lived with The Winter Soldier.

"Don't like having someone else here, huh?" Alpine tended to hide around people he didn't know. He was a bit of a myth to the Tower. "Promise you'll like this one," Bucky told him back in the bedroom, climbing onto the bed to sit by your side. Alpine joined him. "Think she's probably got a bit of crying to do yet though."

By about three in the morning, when Bucky felt sure you were going to sleep the whole night through, he settled down next to you and let himself sleep. Alpine was curled into his back, warm and loving.

Bucky woke at first light, an old habit he was slowly unlearning with the help of excellent blinds and strict orders to F.R.I.D.A.Y. to not let anyone come calling. That morning was different though. He got out of bed, put biscuits out for Alpine, checked in with the team, then spoke to F.R.I.D.A.Y.

"That index of Y/N's friends - does that have phone numbers?"

Bucky sat outside the bedroom, on the floor where he could see if you stirred but not wake you with his conversations.

Bonnie, owner of Glory café; boss and friend; answered in two rings. "Hello?" Her voice was already desperate.

Bucky then realised he should have practiced or asked someone else to do it. By his own admission, as he dragged you to safety through the crumbling streets of D.C., he wasn't really a people person. Although, you'd very much disagree with that now.

"Um, hi. My name is… James. I'm a… search and rescue… officer," he tried. Bonnie was tired, but hopeful; she didn't question what he was saying. "I'm notifying… friends of Y/N L/N that she's alive and safe,"

"What?! She's- Does she- Where-"

"I can't provide any more detail than that. Sorry," Bucky said, hitting his palm to his head. Idiot.

"What? Why? Who is-"

"Please pass the information on to the others that work with her," Bucky added. Before Bonnie could ask how a 'search and rescue officer' knew about your job, Bucky said, "Thank you. Goodbye," and hung up. "Fuck!"

Bucky was unsure of when he'd last done something so profoundly stupid.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., who else is in the tower?"

…

"I don't know… This is a lot to take on, man," Sam said seriously, leaning against the bedroom door frame.

"I know," Bucky agreed, watching you roll over in your sleep.

Alpine, who had been asleep at the end of the bed, maybe trusting Bucky's word that he'd like you, woke up. He looked at the men in the doorway for a good couple of seconds before trotting over to them. Bucky lent down and scooped the cat up. He nodded to Sam to move back to the lounge.

"So what do you need help with?"

"I tried to call her boss. You know, start to let people know where she is - that she's alive."

Sam smirked. "And how'd that go?"

"About as good as you're thinking. I froze. Made up some really fuckin' stupid cover story,"

"Wasn't smooth?"

"Wasn't smooth," Bucky confirmed, letting Alpine jump from his arms onto the kitchenette counter.

"Did you think about telling the truth?" Sam asked, watching Alpine with distrust.

Bucky snorted. "Hi, The Winter Soldier here. I've got Y/N. Don't worry, she's passed out in my bed."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You and Steve are made for each other. Pair of drama queens,"

"Okay, what do I say then?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sam sighed, looked around the space. "Where'd she puke?" he asked.

"Over by the plant," Bucky replied.

Sam nodded, thought some more. "I don't know, man. You've just got to be honest. This-" he motioned to Bucky vaguely, "-is a good thing. You're doing a good thing. They're gonna be happy,"

"But what if they don't believe me?"

"Aliens just attacked their city. They're living and breathing the unbelievable."

Bucky nodded; Sam was right.

They talked some more, catching up and checking on each other in that subtle way soldiers do. When Sam left to find food, Bucky sat on the couch and stared at his phone.

Bonnie, again, picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" she greeted, sounding more tired than before.

"Hi… Um, I called before, about Y/N…" Bucky expected her to say something, but she didn't. He took a breath and continued, "I just wanted to apologise. I, um, didn't really…"

"Who are you?" she cut in.

"My name is James, but most people call me Bucky. Barnes."

Bonnie laughed. "Bucky Barnes? Like, metal arm, Captain America's Bucky Barnes?"

"I'm not Captain America's… but, yeah. That's me,"

"Is this a joke?" she asked.

"No. Um, I can video call if you want proof?" Bucky asked. Sam's suggestion.

"God, no. I look awful… I just… Yeah, okay. So… What do you have to do with Y/N?"

"I… rescued her, on the day of the attack. And, uh, she's here with me now,"

"Right, of course you did. And she's okay?"

"She busted her hand up pretty bad but it's in a cast. But, ah, she knows… about Carly and Ellie… and… both her parents-"

"No!" Bonnie gasped.

"She's asleep. I'm just gonna look after her here,"

"Yeah, well… Can't really imagine anywhere safer than with the Avengers."

Bucky felt less anxious as the call went on. When Bonnie didn't wrap up the conversation, he kept answering her questions. He asked if there was anything he could do for her. She declined; insurance would rebuild Glory and everyone she loved was accounted for. And, there was nothing Bucky could do about the dead.

Bonnie was just relieved to talk to someone who didn't tell her everything was going to be okay. By the time they ran out of things to say, they said goodbye and Bucky promised to call again with an update.

Bonnie had given Bucky enough courage to call Luke, then Elizabeth. Elizabeth sobbed, both in joy that you were alive, and in grief for your parents. All up, Bucky spent about ninety minutes on the phone. He knew more about you, had a little insight into your life before him. By all accounts you were living a life of relative happiness. Whatever it took, he'd get you back to that. However long it took.

…

Lunchtime rolled around and you'd not woken up. Or, if you did, you had passed back out pretty quickly.

Dr Cecilia Reyes came to check on you. Like Sam, she stood at the door of the bedroom and put on a worried expression. "Wilson swung by," she said.

"Told you about her family?" Bucky guessed.

"Yeah. Think he's just worried about you, taking this all on,"

"I'm fine,"

"I know that. She won't be though… I brought her these." Out of her pocket, she produced a pack of triazolam. "They'll knock her out, but won't keep her asleep. She'll do that herself. When she's up, try to get her to eat something. And drink water,"

"Should she… I mean, is there anything else?"

Cecilia sighed. "Unfortunately not, Barnes. You're doing everything already. But, you know… you should probably decide where she's going." She pushed off the doorway and made her way back through the suite.

Bucky followed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, is she going to stay with anyone you spoke to today? Or family somewhere?" Cecilia looked at Bucky. "Were you… You're just gonna keep her here?"

Not once since meeting you and bringing you home had Bucky even thought of an alternative to you staying with him. Cecilia saw Bucky's blank expression.

"Oh,"

"I mean-" Bucky went to say.

"No, no. It's fine-"

"But I-"

"Barnes, it's fine," she said, putting her hands up. "You don't need to explain. Let me know if either you need anything else, okay?"

Bucky sighed. "Thanks, Doc. Will do… Most of the team are back tonight, so you might be a bit busy,"

"I've always got time for you, doll," she replied, grinning.

…

Bucky Barnes spent most of his time reading. He liked non-fiction best. He read about machines, history, revolutions, and bugs. That's what he did all day, waiting for you to wake up. But, you didn't.

He ate the freezer out of ice cream, and the suite out of any other food. There wasn't much. "Gotta go shoppin', hey fluff?"

It was around four in the afternoon when Steve Rogers walked in, carrying what looked like an entire supermarket's stock.

"Buddy, you are my hero," Bucky said, pulling things from the bags before Steve had a chance to put them on the kitchenette counter.

Steve laughed. "Figured your kitchen would be as empty as mine,"

"Mmmm. S'like your psychic,"

"And word is that nobody's been in or out here all day," Steve said, reminding Bucky a lot of Sarah Rogers and her disapproving tone.

"Maybe people should mind their business,"

"People are looking out for you, Buck. Can't be mad at that."

Steve and Bucky cooked together. An early dinner or late lunch. Something that made them feel like kids in Brooklyn, living together with not much between them.

Alpine sat in Steve's lap while Bucky told him about you - the whole story, from start to finish in much detail. At the end, Steve rocked on his chair, tried to hold back a trademark shit-eating grin.

"What? What's that look for?" Bucky asked, throwing a piece of food across the table at his best friend.

"You-" and he stretched that one word out, "-like her."

Immediately, Bucky started to ramble. "Course I like her. She's… sweet. Doc likes her. She's got friends that love her. Doesn't deserve to be all messed up because-"

"No, nope," Steve interrupted. "Not what I mean, and you know it. You like her,"

"Steve, I've known her for a couple days. Most of that time she's been passed out,"

"So?"

"So, we aren't all the love at first sight, one true love, I'm gonna die alone, hopeless romantic, ya know?"

Steve snorted. "You get so bitchy when you're embarrassed,"

"I'm not embarrassed!" Bucky almost-squeaked. Steve's eyebrows raised dramatically. "Fuck off,"

"Whatever. I can see it in your face. You like her."

There was no use arguing with Steve. Bucky conceded. "She's… I don’t know,"

"I remember when you used to know exactly what you liked about a dame you were sweet on… You'd go on about how she laughed at your jokes, or her red lips, or how she drank whiskey,"

"Dame," Bucky repeated. Steve was an anachronism, still. "Guess it's more complicated now,"

"Guess so," Steve agreed. "Glad you found her,"

"Yeah, me too. She'd probably be dead if-"

"No, Buck. I mean, her. Specifically. I'm glad there's something good comin' out of this one,"

"Getting sappy in your old age, punk."

Steve laughed, shaking his head. The men shared a look that said they were on the same page, jokes aside.

"So, you gonna hang around for a bit?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah. We got that meeting at seven, but I'll stay 'till then. Should I tell 'em you're not coming?”

"Yep," Bucky said, standing up and relocating himself to the couch. Alpine jumped from Steve and followed Bucky, finding a new place to nap.

…

Bucky spent the rest of the night watching things on his list. He started with Hercules, like you'd mentioned, then Sam's recommendation of The Princess Bride. Bucky fell asleep on the couch, old episodes of The X-Files lulling him to sleep.

At two am Bucky woke, ate a bowl of Cheerios, then checked on you. You were still passed out, so he climbed onto the bed and watched your back rise and fall as you slept on your stomach.

3:27 am and you woke up gasping for air. After the screaming and crawling, and after you'd taken inventory of the entire bedroom, you looked Bucky.

"You're safe. Do you know where you are?"

Your breathing was heavy, laboured; you had to push the air out through the gunk stuck in your throat. "Yeah…"

Bucky waited, not moving from where he was sitting on the bed.

The headache and haze of too much sleep had clouded your mind for those first few minutes. You were confused, stuck in your nightmare, but seeing Bucky focused you. You were alive.

But not everybody was.

Tears began to pour down your face again.

"Darlin'," Bucky whispered, sitting up on his knees and holding his arms open. With no hesitation, you threw yourself into him. "I know, I know," he said, holding you, letting you collapse into him.

For thirty more minutes, you sobbed. When you sat up on your own, Bucky held a glass of water to your lips. You put your hands around his and let him help you drink.

"What do you need?" Bucky asked, trying to read your expression and body language. You wanted to answer but were, in all honesty, numb, save for the pounding headache. "If you can, you should try to eat something."

Although you nodded, you had a vacant and faraway glassiness to your eyes. For a second, Bucky considered just getting you back into bed and to sleep, but who knew when you'd wake up again.

Out in the suite, you sat at the round table and looked over at Bucky as he stood in the middle of the kitchenette. "Sandwich, maybe? How 'bout… Anything, actually. Fully stocked. Thanks to Stevie." Bucky lined up jars of peanut butter, strawberry jam, Nutella, and marshmallow Fluff.

Something about the benign normality of a simple sandwich made you feel, at the very least, okay. It wasn't easy to stand up, but you did. You walked to the jars and picked up the peanut butter and Fluff.

"Girl after my own heart."

Bucky made fluffernutter sandwiches, handing you a spoon of Fluff halfway through. You stood at the counter, slowly eating. In the time it took you to finish your sandwich, Bucky ate his, made a second, and ate that too. It made you smile.

"I'll make a cup of tea, and we'll get you back to bed," Bucky said, quiet, soft.

Part of you wanted him to act normal. Be a little bit more cheeky, or something. The other part of you was so sure you'd never be functional again, that you were more than happy to let Bucky take total control.

"Okay,"

"'Kay. Milk, two sugars," he checked.

"How do you know that?"

"Café. We had tea,"

"Oh," you said, nodding, trying to remember something that had happened less than 24 hours ago.

Bucky started to make tea. You watched his movements, your eyes following him around the kitchen. When done, he nodded to the bedroom, and you began to walk.

Without conversation, you got into bed and sat against the headboard. Bucky held out the mugs of tea to you. He climbed in next to you and took his mug, blowing on the top of it.

You snickered at the action. It made Bucky's stomach flip.

"Excuse me?" he said, whipping his head around to face you.

"What's the point in that? Doesn't do anything,"

"Alright, well, I ain't making you do it," Bucky replied, grinning. You smiled back.

It had just gone 4:15. The sun would be up soon but the light wouldn't easily find its way in. Bucky finished his tea, fished his phone of the bedside table. "Sleep music," he said, looking up briefly. From speakers you couldn't see, a familiar sound began.

"You listen to lo-fi hip hop streams?" you asked, the disbelief in your voice animating you in a way Bucky hadn't seen since you woke up.

"Yeah, so?" he said, one eyebrow raised.

You shrugged. "Full of surprises."

Bucky smiled.

When your tea was gone and you were tucked into bed, that's when you started to think again. Feel it again. Bucky could sense the shift. "Here," he said, sitting up and grabbing the box Cecilia had left. He punched two pills out of the sheet. You lifted your head just enough to let Bucky put them on your tongue, then help you wash them down with water. You didn't ask what they were, but were grateful when you felt the swelling pressure of forced sleep shut down your brain.

Chapter 7

NOTE: Two things. Firstly, I'm thinking I might jump ahead in time, because logically the next step for Y/N would be to see her extended family, attend funerals, possibly even help with the planning. I'm not sure that this is something that would be entirely enjoyable for you as the reader of this fic. Let me know what you think? If you do want the painful reality of death mapped out like that, I can do it. Choose your own sad adventure lol.

Secondly, and still on the topic of grief, I just wanted to, I don't know, just maybe say that because of my own experiences with grief and loss (most recently and most painfully, my big brother), I know how weird it is. It comes in waves, all the bad feelings, and sometimes you can sit there totally normal, even joke, and sometimes you don't move for an entire day. I'm definitely using my own experiences to shape how Y/N is behaving. So, it's not that I'm writing her as inconsistently sad, it's that grief is an inconsistent effector of mood. I don't know why I felt like I had to explain that, but I feel better for having done it. *shrugging girl emoji lol*

TAGLISTS (open, msg me) So Far Away: @animegirlgeeky @howthehellisbucky @dumbubblegum @chipilerendi All my work: @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @just-kara-no-hats @fairislesheets (IT LET ME TAG YOU!)

#mine #So Far Away #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes reader insert #reader insert #Marvel fanfic #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes/You #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x Y/N

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