figtreesandmoonlight

[figtreesandmoonlight]

🥰🥰 thank you !!!

More Than Candyfloss

Bucky x drunk reader

Summary: You're on a rare night out and having the time of your life, but when it's time to head home, there's only one man you want to see, Bucky Barnes.

TWs: Alcohol consumption

AN: just a quick sweet one! Sorry for disappearing on you all, the mental health had to be healthed!

Music was blasting, lights were whirling around above you, as you swayed your hips along with the music. Your body was buzzing with a happy numbness, five drinks down and having the night of your life. 

You were on a rare night out, something you hadn’t done since you and Bucky had begun dating, and you were going all out. Your little black dress had a mesh overlay with studs that caught the lights just right when you moved, your hair rolling in waves down your back, heels so high that one wrong step could send you stumbling to the ground.

But you were a pro at this. Bucky’s jaw had dropped when you’d stepped out into the living room earlier that night. ‘God doll, you tryin’ to kill me?’ Strong hands wrapped around your waist before settling on your hips. His lips were on yours before you could blush before they made their way to your neck. ‘You’re breathtaking,’ he’d whispered into your skin like a prayer. Bucky walked you to the door, warm hand splayed across your lower back, guiding and supporting you on your way out. He’d stolen another kiss when you were on the doorstep, whispering to you ‘be safe, have fun,’ and waiting for you to get into the car before heading back inside. His eyes followed the car down the block until you were out of sight, his head resting on the doorframe, a smile soft on his lips. 

So you’d spent your night doing as Bucky said, you were having fun and being safe. Glitter danced on your cheekbones as your body thrummed in time with the music. Sam was opposite you, and Joaquin was, unsurprisingly, trying his luck with some woman he’d met at the bar. So maybe the extra tequila shot was excessive, and maybe you hadn’t needed another pornstar martini, but since you’d found yourself in the New Avengers world, you’d hardly had any time to just let loose with your friends. You’d be damned if you weren’t going to enjoy it. 

At some point after screaming all of the lyrics to Livin' on a Prayer, your eyelids had started to droop from tiredness, and not just the alcohol. Sam’s gentle hands had manoeuvred you off the dance floor, guiding you past the groups of dancing bodies as a pout formed on your lips, a cute annoyed frown furrowing your brow. ‘Sammy! I was having all the fun - they haven’t even played my song yet!’ 

The man beside you chuckled, while Joaquin, who was now supporting the other side of you, joked ‘you’ve literally said over half of the songs tonight were ‘your song’ hun. I reckon it’s time to get you home to Bucky.’

You gasped in excitement, eyes lighting up, suddenly thrilled at the mention of your boyfriend. ‘Bucky’s here?!’ Your head whipped from left to right, hair managing to hit both Sam and Joaquin in the face in your search. When you didn’t see him straight away you tried to stumble to your feet. Odd, you didn’t remember sitting down. 

‘Just hold on a mo, sweetheart,’ Sam laughed, gently guiding you back down onto the curb you were sat on, ‘Bucky’s not here yet, but I’m gonna give him a call.’ The pout quickly returned, but Joaquin only looked at you and smiled softly. ‘You really love him, huh?’ 

‘Uh-huh’ you nodded back at him, eyes doe-eyed and completely honest. ‘I love him more than the candyfloss he buys me at Coney Island, and more than the snacks he buys me when I’m on my period, and more than all the books in the world.’ You leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorily, ‘and there’s like a lot of books.’ 

‘Oh yeah, there’s so many.’ Joaquin humours you. You just nod in agreement, before loudly announcing, ‘I don’t think Bucky’s read as many books as he says he has. I bet I would win a reading challenge. Or probably not. But he’d let me win. He’d give me the look that makes me tingle with butterflies and tell me I was a star and his best girl and I’d hug him, and we’d fall asleep on the sofa while he let me play with his hair.’ 

You were rambling on, now telling Joaquin about the crumble Bucky would make you that his mum used to make him, and how it was almost orgasmic it tasted so good, and how you wanted it at your wedding instead of cake, while Sam laughed into his phone. ‘You hearing all this, buddy?’ He asked Bucky, who was on the other end of the line with the softest, fondest smile spreading across his cheeks, his chest feeling warm at your voice declaring your inebriated love for him.

Worry had flared in Bucky’s chest when he’d seen Sam’s contact light up his phone. ‘Is she okay?’ Blutred out his mouth before he could stop himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. He did, with his life. It was the rest of the world he worried about. ‘Completely and absolutely, if a little drunk.’ Sam’s voice had replied instantly, as though he knew Bucky would ask. When he’d heard your voice, floating softly through his phone’s speakers, he’d let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, the panic in his chest easing and being replaced with a soft glow. ‘It’s been a good night then?’ 

‘To say the least. She was like a discoball on steroids, but she’s about 10 minutes away from a sugar crash. Apparently, she loves you more than candyfloss, so maybe you can help? Are you good to come pick her up, man?’ 

‘Always.’ 

Bucky had already thrown his shoes on the second Sam’s name had popped up. He’d walk to the end of the earth if you needed someone to meet you, so a few blocks over was nothing. His heart glowed as he heard your rambling through the phone, knowing he was absolutely wrecked for you, and that he couldn’t picture his life any other way. He slotted his key into the door, opened his car, and was on his way to you in an instant, a man on a mission.

Back outside the club, you’d started to get more and more sleepy. Your head now rested on Joaquin’s shoulder as you blinked your eyes, trying to keep them open. ‘ -want ‘ucky’ you mumbled into the man, frowning when his laughter shifted you from the comfy spot you’d found on his shoulder. Joaquin’s hand gently brushed your hair from your face ‘I know, don’t you worry, he’s on his way.’ 

‘He just makes me feel so warm. Makes me feel so safe, like nothing can ever happen to me when I’m with him. don’t get scared of things when ‘m with him ‘ you slurred, ‘- everything’s lighter. Happier. He makes me happy. And makes my heart go all fuzzy.’ You pointed to your own heart, jamming a finger into your chest which Joaquin quickly guided away from stabbing youself. ‘So so happy and fuzzy. I miss him. Want cuddles.’ 

‘Oh doll, I think we can sort that out.’ 

You blinked your bleary eyes open at the voice that made your heart swell and your head rush. Bucky. Bucky had come to get you. Before any of them could stop you, you’d jumped to your feet, and flung yourself at Bucky, calling out his name in an uncoordinated jumble of limbs. But as your body tilted to the side and the pavement beneath you loomed closer, strong, warm hands swooped under you. You never hit the floor. 

‘Easy, baby, easy.’

Before you’d had the chance to fall, Bucky had caught you. He always did. You let out a giggle of delight as he held you to his chest. Bucky’s forehead dropped ever so slightly, resting against your own as his eyes shut and he simply basked in the moment. 

‘You’re my hero Buck.’ You whispered out, a hand coming up to rest on his jaw. 

‘And you’re mine,’ he whispered back, before placing a soft kiss to your lips, nodding in thanks to Sam and Joaquin, and walking you back to his car. You were drifting off before he’d even set you down in his car. 

‘C’mere baby,’ Bucky spoke so softly, his warm hand brushing lightly against your cheek to rouse you from your sleep. You blinked your sleepy eyes open to see that you were back in the apartment, sitting on your plush, dark green couch. You breathed in deeply, realising as the scent of pine and smoke filled your lungs that Bucky had slipped you into one of his jumpers and some joggers while you were asleep. You smile sleepily at Bucky, who was kneeling in front of you, a damp washcloth in his hands. ‘You came to get me,’ you said, soft, happy, drunk tears building along your waterline. Bucky put the washcloth to the side, both his hands coming up to cradle your face like precious glass. ‘I did, baby. And I always will. Anywhere. Anytime. Always.’ He gently brushed the tears from your eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, before picking up the flannel and slowly, tenderly, wiping off your makeup. 

You were quiet in your blissful heaven as Bucky placed a warm mug of tea into your hands, joining you on the sofa and wrapping you tight into his side. ‘Did you know,’ you ask between sips, looking up at him deadly serious, ‘that I love you more than candyfloss. And I really love candyfloss.’ 

Bucky can’t help the soft chuckle that rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls you in, placing another kiss on your forehead. ‘More than candyfloss huh? That’s a lot.’ 

You nod into his chest, ‘mhm, a lot a lot. I love you more than the world.’

‘You’re my everything, doll. I love you more than candyfloss too. More than the world.’

‘Gosh,’ you whisper, smiling small and delighted, ‘that’s a lot.’ 

‘It sure is,’ Bucky whispers back, hand coming to rest in your hair, gently carding his fingers through it as he held you while you fell asleep. Once your breathing settled to a steady, even pace, Bucky softly pulled the mug from your hands, placing it on the table, before picking you up, cradling you close to his chest and walking to your shared room. 

With a softness that at one point he thought he’d never be capable of, Bucky placed you down between the plush sheets before sliding into the bed next to you. He gently slung his arm over your waist, pulling you close to his chest as you slept, a smile on his face when he realised your hair smelt like candyfloss. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

🥹🥹🥹 thank you so much bestie !!! ❤️

More Than Candyfloss

Bucky x drunk reader

Summary: You're on a rare night out and having the time of your life, but when it's time to head home, there's only one man you want to see, Bucky Barnes.

TWs: Alcohol consumption

AN: just a quick sweet one! Sorry for disappearing on you all, the mental health had to be healthed!

Music was blasting, lights were whirling around above you, as you swayed your hips along with the music. Your body was buzzing with a happy numbness, five drinks down and having the night of your life. 

You were on a rare night out, something you hadn’t done since you and Bucky had begun dating, and you were going all out. Your little black dress had a mesh overlay with studs that caught the lights just right when you moved, your hair rolling in waves down your back, heels so high that one wrong step could send you stumbling to the ground.

But you were a pro at this. Bucky’s jaw had dropped when you’d stepped out into the living room earlier that night. ‘God doll, you tryin’ to kill me?’ Strong hands wrapped around your waist before settling on your hips. His lips were on yours before you could blush before they made their way to your neck. ‘You’re breathtaking,’ he’d whispered into your skin like a prayer. Bucky walked you to the door, warm hand splayed across your lower back, guiding and supporting you on your way out. He’d stolen another kiss when you were on the doorstep, whispering to you ‘be safe, have fun,’ and waiting for you to get into the car before heading back inside. His eyes followed the car down the block until you were out of sight, his head resting on the doorframe, a smile soft on his lips. 

So you’d spent your night doing as Bucky said, you were having fun and being safe. Glitter danced on your cheekbones as your body thrummed in time with the music. Sam was opposite you, and Joaquin was, unsurprisingly, trying his luck with some woman he’d met at the bar. So maybe the extra tequila shot was excessive, and maybe you hadn’t needed another pornstar martini, but since you’d found yourself in the New Avengers world, you’d hardly had any time to just let loose with your friends. You’d be damned if you weren’t going to enjoy it. 

At some point after screaming all of the lyrics to Livin' on a Prayer, your eyelids had started to droop from tiredness, and not just the alcohol. Sam’s gentle hands had manoeuvred you off the dance floor, guiding you past the groups of dancing bodies as a pout formed on your lips, a cute annoyed frown furrowing your brow. ‘Sammy! I was having all the fun - they haven’t even played my song yet!’ 

The man beside you chuckled, while Joaquin, who was now supporting the other side of you, joked ‘you’ve literally said over half of the songs tonight were ‘your song’ hun. I reckon it’s time to get you home to Bucky.’

You gasped in excitement, eyes lighting up, suddenly thrilled at the mention of your boyfriend. ‘Bucky’s here?!’ Your head whipped from left to right, hair managing to hit both Sam and Joaquin in the face in your search. When you didn’t see him straight away you tried to stumble to your feet. Odd, you didn’t remember sitting down. 

‘Just hold on a mo, sweetheart,’ Sam laughed, gently guiding you back down onto the curb you were sat on, ‘Bucky’s not here yet, but I’m gonna give him a call.’ The pout quickly returned, but Joaquin only looked at you and smiled softly. ‘You really love him, huh?’ 

‘Uh-huh’ you nodded back at him, eyes doe-eyed and completely honest. ‘I love him more than the candyfloss he buys me at Coney Island, and more than the snacks he buys me when I’m on my period, and more than all the books in the world.’ You leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorily, ‘and there’s like a lot of books.’ 

‘Oh yeah, there’s so many.’ Joaquin humours you. You just nod in agreement, before loudly announcing, ‘I don’t think Bucky’s read as many books as he says he has. I bet I would win a reading challenge. Or probably not. But he’d let me win. He’d give me the look that makes me tingle with butterflies and tell me I was a star and his best girl and I’d hug him, and we’d fall asleep on the sofa while he let me play with his hair.’ 

You were rambling on, now telling Joaquin about the crumble Bucky would make you that his mum used to make him, and how it was almost orgasmic it tasted so good, and how you wanted it at your wedding instead of cake, while Sam laughed into his phone. ‘You hearing all this, buddy?’ He asked Bucky, who was on the other end of the line with the softest, fondest smile spreading across his cheeks, his chest feeling warm at your voice declaring your inebriated love for him.

Worry had flared in Bucky’s chest when he’d seen Sam’s contact light up his phone. ‘Is she okay?’ Blutred out his mouth before he could stop himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. He did, with his life. It was the rest of the world he worried about. ‘Completely and absolutely, if a little drunk.’ Sam’s voice had replied instantly, as though he knew Bucky would ask. When he’d heard your voice, floating softly through his phone’s speakers, he’d let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, the panic in his chest easing and being replaced with a soft glow. ‘It’s been a good night then?’ 

‘To say the least. She was like a discoball on steroids, but she’s about 10 minutes away from a sugar crash. Apparently, she loves you more than candyfloss, so maybe you can help? Are you good to come pick her up, man?’ 

‘Always.’ 

Bucky had already thrown his shoes on the second Sam’s name had popped up. He’d walk to the end of the earth if you needed someone to meet you, so a few blocks over was nothing. His heart glowed as he heard your rambling through the phone, knowing he was absolutely wrecked for you, and that he couldn’t picture his life any other way. He slotted his key into the door, opened his car, and was on his way to you in an instant, a man on a mission.

Back outside the club, you’d started to get more and more sleepy. Your head now rested on Joaquin’s shoulder as you blinked your eyes, trying to keep them open. ‘ -want ‘ucky’ you mumbled into the man, frowning when his laughter shifted you from the comfy spot you’d found on his shoulder. Joaquin’s hand gently brushed your hair from your face ‘I know, don’t you worry, he’s on his way.’ 

‘He just makes me feel so warm. Makes me feel so safe, like nothing can ever happen to me when I’m with him. don’t get scared of things when ‘m with him ‘ you slurred, ‘- everything’s lighter. Happier. He makes me happy. And makes my heart go all fuzzy.’ You pointed to your own heart, jamming a finger into your chest which Joaquin quickly guided away from stabbing youself. ‘So so happy and fuzzy. I miss him. Want cuddles.’ 

‘Oh doll, I think we can sort that out.’ 

You blinked your bleary eyes open at the voice that made your heart swell and your head rush. Bucky. Bucky had come to get you. Before any of them could stop you, you’d jumped to your feet, and flung yourself at Bucky, calling out his name in an uncoordinated jumble of limbs. But as your body tilted to the side and the pavement beneath you loomed closer, strong, warm hands swooped under you. You never hit the floor. 

‘Easy, baby, easy.’

Before you’d had the chance to fall, Bucky had caught you. He always did. You let out a giggle of delight as he held you to his chest. Bucky’s forehead dropped ever so slightly, resting against your own as his eyes shut and he simply basked in the moment. 

‘You’re my hero Buck.’ You whispered out, a hand coming up to rest on his jaw. 

‘And you’re mine,’ he whispered back, before placing a soft kiss to your lips, nodding in thanks to Sam and Joaquin, and walking you back to his car. You were drifting off before he’d even set you down in his car. 

‘C’mere baby,’ Bucky spoke so softly, his warm hand brushing lightly against your cheek to rouse you from your sleep. You blinked your sleepy eyes open to see that you were back in the apartment, sitting on your plush, dark green couch. You breathed in deeply, realising as the scent of pine and smoke filled your lungs that Bucky had slipped you into one of his jumpers and some joggers while you were asleep. You smile sleepily at Bucky, who was kneeling in front of you, a damp washcloth in his hands. ‘You came to get me,’ you said, soft, happy, drunk tears building along your waterline. Bucky put the washcloth to the side, both his hands coming up to cradle your face like precious glass. ‘I did, baby. And I always will. Anywhere. Anytime. Always.’ He gently brushed the tears from your eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, before picking up the flannel and slowly, tenderly, wiping off your makeup. 

You were quiet in your blissful heaven as Bucky placed a warm mug of tea into your hands, joining you on the sofa and wrapping you tight into his side. ‘Did you know,’ you ask between sips, looking up at him deadly serious, ‘that I love you more than candyfloss. And I really love candyfloss.’ 

Bucky can’t help the soft chuckle that rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls you in, placing another kiss on your forehead. ‘More than candyfloss huh? That’s a lot.’ 

You nod into his chest, ‘mhm, a lot a lot. I love you more than the world.’

‘You’re my everything, doll. I love you more than candyfloss too. More than the world.’

‘Gosh,’ you whisper, smiling small and delighted, ‘that’s a lot.’ 

‘It sure is,’ Bucky whispers back, hand coming to rest in your hair, gently carding his fingers through it as he held you while you fell asleep. Once your breathing settled to a steady, even pace, Bucky softly pulled the mug from your hands, placing it on the table, before picking you up, cradling you close to his chest and walking to your shared room. 

With a softness that at one point he thought he’d never be capable of, Bucky placed you down between the plush sheets before sliding into the bed next to you. He gently slung his arm over your waist, pulling you close to his chest as you slept, a smile on his face when he realised your hair smelt like candyfloss. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

More Than Candyfloss

Bucky x drunk reader

Summary: You're on a rare night out and having the time of your life, but when it's time to head home, there's only one man you want to see, Bucky Barnes.

TWs: Alcohol consumption

AN: just a quick sweet one! Sorry for disappearing on you all, the mental health had to be healthed!

Music was blasting, lights were whirling around above you, as you swayed your hips along with the music. Your body was buzzing with a happy numbness, five drinks down and having the night of your life. 

You were on a rare night out, something you hadn’t done since you and Bucky had begun dating, and you were going all out. Your little black dress had a mesh overlay with studs that caught the lights just right when you moved, your hair rolling in waves down your back, heels so high that one wrong step could send you stumbling to the ground.

But you were a pro at this. Bucky’s jaw had dropped when you’d stepped out into the living room earlier that night. ‘God doll, you tryin’ to kill me?’ Strong hands wrapped around your waist before settling on your hips. His lips were on yours before you could blush before they made their way to your neck. ‘You’re breathtaking,’ he’d whispered into your skin like a prayer. Bucky walked you to the door, warm hand splayed across your lower back, guiding and supporting you on your way out. He’d stolen another kiss when you were on the doorstep, whispering to you ‘be safe, have fun,’ and waiting for you to get into the car before heading back inside. His eyes followed the car down the block until you were out of sight, his head resting on the doorframe, a smile soft on his lips. 

So you’d spent your night doing as Bucky said, you were having fun and being safe. Glitter danced on your cheekbones as your body thrummed in time with the music. Sam was opposite you, and Joaquin was, unsurprisingly, trying his luck with some woman he’d met at the bar. So maybe the extra tequila shot was excessive, and maybe you hadn’t needed another pornstar martini, but since you’d found yourself in the New Avengers world, you’d hardly had any time to just let loose with your friends. You’d be damned if you weren’t going to enjoy it. 

At some point after screaming all of the lyrics to Livin' on a Prayer, your eyelids had started to droop from tiredness, and not just the alcohol. Sam’s gentle hands had manoeuvred you off the dance floor, guiding you past the groups of dancing bodies as a pout formed on your lips, a cute annoyed frown furrowing your brow. ‘Sammy! I was having all the fun - they haven’t even played my song yet!’ 

The man beside you chuckled, while Joaquin, who was now supporting the other side of you, joked ‘you’ve literally said over half of the songs tonight were ‘your song’ hun. I reckon it’s time to get you home to Bucky.’

You gasped in excitement, eyes lighting up, suddenly thrilled at the mention of your boyfriend. ‘Bucky’s here?!’ Your head whipped from left to right, hair managing to hit both Sam and Joaquin in the face in your search. When you didn’t see him straight away you tried to stumble to your feet. Odd, you didn’t remember sitting down. 

‘Just hold on a mo, sweetheart,’ Sam laughed, gently guiding you back down onto the curb you were sat on, ‘Bucky’s not here yet, but I’m gonna give him a call.’ The pout quickly returned, but Joaquin only looked at you and smiled softly. ‘You really love him, huh?’ 

‘Uh-huh’ you nodded back at him, eyes doe-eyed and completely honest. ‘I love him more than the candyfloss he buys me at Coney Island, and more than the snacks he buys me when I’m on my period, and more than all the books in the world.’ You leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorily, ‘and there’s like a lot of books.’ 

‘Oh yeah, there’s so many.’ Joaquin humours you. You just nod in agreement, before loudly announcing, ‘I don’t think Bucky’s read as many books as he says he has. I bet I would win a reading challenge. Or probably not. But he’d let me win. He’d give me the look that makes me tingle with butterflies and tell me I was a star and his best girl and I’d hug him, and we’d fall asleep on the sofa while he let me play with his hair.’ 

You were rambling on, now telling Joaquin about the crumble Bucky would make you that his mum used to make him, and how it was almost orgasmic it tasted so good, and how you wanted it at your wedding instead of cake, while Sam laughed into his phone. ‘You hearing all this, buddy?’ He asked Bucky, who was on the other end of the line with the softest, fondest smile spreading across his cheeks, his chest feeling warm at your voice declaring your inebriated love for him.

Worry had flared in Bucky’s chest when he’d seen Sam’s contact light up his phone. ‘Is she okay?’ Blutred out his mouth before he could stop himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. He did, with his life. It was the rest of the world he worried about. ‘Completely and absolutely, if a little drunk.’ Sam’s voice had replied instantly, as though he knew Bucky would ask. When he’d heard your voice, floating softly through his phone’s speakers, he’d let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, the panic in his chest easing and being replaced with a soft glow. ‘It’s been a good night then?’ 

‘To say the least. She was like a discoball on steroids, but she’s about 10 minutes away from a sugar crash. Apparently, she loves you more than candyfloss, so maybe you can help? Are you good to come pick her up, man?’ 

‘Always.’ 

Bucky had already thrown his shoes on the second Sam’s name had popped up. He’d walk to the end of the earth if you needed someone to meet you, so a few blocks over was nothing. His heart glowed as he heard your rambling through the phone, knowing he was absolutely wrecked for you, and that he couldn’t picture his life any other way. He slotted his key into the door, opened his car, and was on his way to you in an instant, a man on a mission.

Back outside the club, you’d started to get more and more sleepy. Your head now rested on Joaquin’s shoulder as you blinked your eyes, trying to keep them open. ‘ -want ‘ucky’ you mumbled into the man, frowning when his laughter shifted you from the comfy spot you’d found on his shoulder. Joaquin’s hand gently brushed your hair from your face ‘I know, don’t you worry, he’s on his way.’ 

‘He just makes me feel so warm. Makes me feel so safe, like nothing can ever happen to me when I’m with him. don’t get scared of things when ‘m with him ‘ you slurred, ‘- everything’s lighter. Happier. He makes me happy. And makes my heart go all fuzzy.’ You pointed to your own heart, jamming a finger into your chest which Joaquin quickly guided away from stabbing youself. ‘So so happy and fuzzy. I miss him. Want cuddles.’ 

‘Oh doll, I think we can sort that out.’ 

You blinked your bleary eyes open at the voice that made your heart swell and your head rush. Bucky. Bucky had come to get you. Before any of them could stop you, you’d jumped to your feet, and flung yourself at Bucky, calling out his name in an uncoordinated jumble of limbs. But as your body tilted to the side and the pavement beneath you loomed closer, strong, warm hands swooped under you. You never hit the floor. 

‘Easy, baby, easy.’

Before you’d had the chance to fall, Bucky had caught you. He always did. You let out a giggle of delight as he held you to his chest. Bucky’s forehead dropped ever so slightly, resting against your own as his eyes shut and he simply basked in the moment. 

‘You’re my hero Buck.’ You whispered out, a hand coming up to rest on his jaw. 

‘And you’re mine,’ he whispered back, before placing a soft kiss to your lips, nodding in thanks to Sam and Joaquin, and walking you back to his car. You were drifting off before he’d even set you down in his car. 

‘C’mere baby,’ Bucky spoke so softly, his warm hand brushing lightly against your cheek to rouse you from your sleep. You blinked your sleepy eyes open to see that you were back in the apartment, sitting on your plush, dark green couch. You breathed in deeply, realising as the scent of pine and smoke filled your lungs that Bucky had slipped you into one of his jumpers and some joggers while you were asleep. You smile sleepily at Bucky, who was kneeling in front of you, a damp washcloth in his hands. ‘You came to get me,’ you said, soft, happy, drunk tears building along your waterline. Bucky put the washcloth to the side, both his hands coming up to cradle your face like precious glass. ‘I did, baby. And I always will. Anywhere. Anytime. Always.’ He gently brushed the tears from your eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, before picking up the flannel and slowly, tenderly, wiping off your makeup. 

You were quiet in your blissful heaven as Bucky placed a warm mug of tea into your hands, joining you on the sofa and wrapping you tight into his side. ‘Did you know,’ you ask between sips, looking up at him deadly serious, ‘that I love you more than candyfloss. And I really love candyfloss.’ 

Bucky can’t help the soft chuckle that rumbles deep in his chest. He pulls you in, placing another kiss on your forehead. ‘More than candyfloss huh? That’s a lot.’ 

You nod into his chest, ‘mhm, a lot a lot. I love you more than the world.’

‘You’re my everything, doll. I love you more than candyfloss too. More than the world.’

‘Gosh,’ you whisper, smiling small and delighted, ‘that’s a lot.’ 

‘It sure is,’ Bucky whispers back, hand coming to rest in your hair, gently carding his fingers through it as he held you while you fell asleep. Once your breathing settled to a steady, even pace, Bucky softly pulled the mug from your hands, placing it on the table, before picking you up, cradling you close to his chest and walking to your shared room. 

With a softness that at one point he thought he’d never be capable of, Bucky placed you down between the plush sheets before sliding into the bed next to you. He gently slung his arm over your waist, pulling you close to his chest as you slept, a smile on his face when he realised your hair smelt like candyfloss. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

bucky who can’t quite seem to get over the fact he can pick up mjolnir even though it’s been a good three months since the first time he accidentally plucked it from the ground in avenger’s tower. the hammer itself always seems to be in the most random of places and bucky will walk over to it whenever the opportunity comes along and look around to make sure no one is watching before picking it up again as it expecting one day that he won’t be able to lift it again. except every time it comes off the ground without hesitation and he grins like an absolute idiot because it means more to him than it probably should just that mjolnir deems him worthy at all so that must mean there’s something good about him, right?

and of course tony eventually asks why thor leaves his hammer just sitting around the place and thor simply smiles and says, “because it helps where i cannot.”

and nobody knows exactly what he means by that

[figtreesandmoonlight]

I HAVE OVER 100 FOLLOWERS WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK 🩵🩵🩵 I can’t believe it - sat in Milan crying - if you’re seeing this and following me I love you dearly, and if you’re not x

[figtreesandmoonlight]

It's Complicated

Bucky Barnes x Reader Oneshot

Summary: Your relationship with your parents had never been simple. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good. It just was. It was easier to just tell people, ‘it’s complicated.’ So when your mum is in town, you think it might finally be your chance to be seen by her. But when dinner quickly turns disasterous, Bucky becomes your loudest and most loving defender, unwilling to see you taken to pieces by your mother.

TWs: manipulation/narcissistic gaslighting, poor parental relationship

Your relationship with your parents had never been simple. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good. It just was. And trying to explain that to anyone was hard. Hard, because it made you think about the things you tried so hard to forget and bury over the years. The pain. The broken trust. The constant numbness. The feeling of being wrong, of never being enough. 

It was easier to just tell people, ‘it’s complicated.’ 

Except Bucky Barnes won’t take ‘complicated’ as an answer. It’s not that he pushes. He never would. It’s that he worries. That he’s opened up to you about the truly dark corners of his past. That he trusts you so completely. 

And you trust him, too. It’s not that you don’t want to explain it to him, to let him see the cracks that groan under the weight of your ‘complicated’ family. You want nothing more. Wanted to give him some of the weight of it and let him help you carry it. You just don’t know how to say it, how to pull the thousands of threads together into a tapestry of pain and sorrow that someone else could read, could witness, without wanting to leave you. 

It wasn’t that you never spoke about them. Across the two years you’d known each other, and the months you’d been dating, you’d made comments in passing, told stories, whispered under your breath. Bucky had held you when something Tony said sent you spiralling as it triggered a painful memory. He’d stroked your hair as you’d sobbed. And he hadn’t pushed. He’d let you get out what you needed to and didn’t dig for the details. 

From that day, everyone in the tower had been quietly banned from using the word ‘embarrassment’ in relation to you, joking or not. You didn’t notice it, which was Bucky’s whole plan. He would quietly change the world, piece by piece, to keep it from hurting you. 

Except there was one thing he couldn’t change. Your parents. 

So when the text came through one Sunday morning, a simple ‘hi x’, as golden beams of light fluttered in between the curtains of your bedroom, Bucky got out of bed to follow you into the kitchen. You’d said you were going to make coffee, but that was ten minutes ago, and Bucky was beginning to wonder if you’d waged another war against the machine. Except when he saw you, sat stationary on the sofa, staring down at the phone in your hand, he paused in the doorway. When he saw your fingers mindlessly picking at the skin on your lips, he frowned. When he heard the shakiness of your exhale, he stepped forward, consciously making his footsteps audible so you knew he was coming. 

‘Everything okay?’ He asked, voice low and scratchy as it always was on lazy mornings. 

You didn’t turn to look at him, just hummed out a sound that could have meant both yes and no, eyes still glued static to the glow of the screen. Bucky carried on walking towards you, slowly sitting down on the sofa next to you, the dip in the furniture, finally shifting your attention enough to look at Bucky. ‘Got a text from my mum,’ you mumble out, turning your phone off and dropping it next to Bucky, anxious hands now pulled up into the sleeves of your jumper, picking at the bobbles it had from years of wear. You’d stolen it from Bucky. It made you feel safe. 

Bucky gave you a second before he replied, trying to gauge from you how much you were going to want to talk. After a beat, Bucky realised the only important thing at the moment. You. ‘How you feeling?’ Without another word, both of your arms slipped around Bucky, swinging your legs up to rest on top of his as you pressed your head to his chest. ‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled out, breathing in his scent, his himness, letting it calm you. You didn’t look up at Bucky, but carried on ‘she just said ‘hi’, I know it seems like nothing, but-‘ you broke off. Bucky’s hand came to card gently through your hair as he reassured you ‘the way something makes you feel is never stupid to me. Never.’ 

You sighed, melting into his side a little more. ‘I can’t really explain it. Whenever I hear from either of them, my stomach drops, and I feel this anger. Like, I get so angry, no matter what they say. And I don’t even know why. I hate it. I hate how they make me feel.’ You whispered out the final sentence. Bucky placed a tender kiss on top of your forehead. ‘I hate that I still love them. That, after everything, I still want them to be my parents. To look after me. To love me.’ 

He doesn’t need to know what ‘everything’ is. Instead, Bucky just holds you close, keeps his fingers running through your hair to remind you that he’s still there, presses soft kisses to your hair as though they could take the deep ache in your gut away. 

It was the sound of your phone buzzing, letting you know you had another text, that pulled you from your thoughts. You already knew who it would be from. You uncurled slowly, lifting your head and reaching your hand out for your phone. As you picked it up, Bucky’s hand circled yours, pausing you briefly. 

‘Whatever it is,’ he murmured, ‘you don’t have to deal with it on your own.’ 

You gave him a grateful smile, shifting so that you’re now sat next to Bucky, as opposed to practically on top of him. You rest your head on your shoulder and open your phone for both of you to see. 

I’m in town for a few days. Let’s do dinner - tomorrow, 7pm at Maria’s?x

You stare at it for a while, letting the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s breathing keep you grounded. You hate the hope that you feel, seeing the message. She was reaching out. Maybe, you thought, just maybe this time would be different. Bucky doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t try to tell you one way or another what you should say back. He holds you, the constant promise of support, whatever you decide to do. 

You look up at him, a tiny dent between your brows exposing your worry at asking the question. ‘Will you come with me?’ You ask, voice small, terrified about bringing Bucky into the world of chaos that is your family. Terrified it would turn him away from you. Terrified he’d see just how broken you are and run. Instead, you see his face soften slightly. He was relieved, you realised, that you were asking for his help. His comfort. ‘Of course I will.’ He presses a kiss to you’re forehead, and you feel a wave of calm flood your body, the frown on your face disappearing, the pit in your stomach filling slightly, your breath coming easier. 

Sounds good. Bucky and I will be there. 

See you then x

The rest of your Sunday passed simply. You meal prepped for the week, watched some TV with Alpine, read with Bucky, went to the gym. You tried to push the next day to the back of your mind. Bucky followed your lead. He helped make dinner, did some laundry. Didn’t push. He knew you’d tell him when you’re ready. 

And the time came as you both sat down in front of the TV, something mindless lighting the room around you, Alpine cuddled on your lap and a glass of red wine in your hand. As your fingers threaded through the silky mass that was your purring furball, you let everything out. 

You told Bucky everything. All at once. The lies. The affairs. The pressure and expectations. The way tension between other people in the family got taken out on you. The holidays. The happy memories. The grandparents and cousins. The verbal abuse. The physical. The being overlooked. The being praised. The being ignored. The being used. The plates smashed, and the police called. How deeply you longed to be loved. You told him it all. The good and the bad. 

Your voice was quiet. Steady. There were things you missed, you were sure of it. But as more and more words flowed out of your mouth, you felt lighter and lighter. Finally, you’d let the dam open, and years of sorrow and pain, years of work in therapy, years of longing to be good enough to be loved rushed out of you. 

And Bucky listened to it all. He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t ask questions. He just listened to you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.  Because to him, you were. Like he was committing each part of your history to his memory to make sure he could help you when you needed it. Like he was making sure he could love you in every way you need. 

You kept your eyes on Alpine beneath you the whole time. You didn’t shake. You didn’t cry. You just spoke, terrified the whole time that you would look up to see something in Bucky’s expression that would break you.

‘I am so proud of you.’ 

Your breath hitched at his words, your head raising to look at Bucky in front of you. His eyes were glassy. There were tears he was fighting to hold back. Because this moment was not about him. It wasn’t for him. It was for you. He’d never felt more honoured than when you confided in him. So instead, he took his own deep, shaking breath, his human hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb running lightly over your cheekbone. ‘I am so, so proud of you.’ 

‘I, I still want to go tomorrow. I need to. I just - you needed to know before you meet her.’ 

‘Thank you for trusting me,’ he whispers, his lips pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead, ‘thank you for letting me in like this. Whatever you need tomorrow, I’ll do. No questions asked.’ 

‘Thank you.’

Your breath was stuttering. You tried to swallow past a lump in your throat. Bucky wiped the tears that fell away as gently as if you were made of glass. You’d been sat on opposite ends of the couch, but at some point, Bucky had shifted so that now, you were sat just in front of him, your legs inside his, and your back resting on his chest, his chin on your shoulder, his arms circling your waist, holding you close. Holding you safe. Holding you together, even if he didn't know it. Because he wasn’t running. He wasn’t looking at you like you were broken. He was looking at you like you were strong. You fell asleep, pressed into Bucky’s back, circled by his warmth. Intertwined. Free. Lighter than you’d been in years. 

The gentle percussion of rain against windows is what greeted you as you lazily blinked your eyes open the next morning. The sky had turned into a thick blanket of grey, which felt like it was pressing down on your head. But you were comfy. You were warm. Bucky must have carried you to bed. Lazily, you rolled over, your arm stretching across the bed. Your eyes opened fully when it didn’t find Bucky underneath it. You just about pulled yourself into a sitting position when you heard the telltale sound of Bucky’s feet padding barefoot in the hallway, heading into the room. 

The next second, the door creaked open, a beam of light from the hallway entering the room, casting the shadow of a very specific supersoldier, carrying two mugs of coffee in his plaid pyjama trousers and black vest top. Bucky had learnt early on in your relationship that mornings were not particularly your friend. In fact, some days, they were your mortal enemy. So from day one, he’d built a routine. He learnt when you woke up and (because he’d started sleeping better once you were together) he’d set an alarm for 10 minutes before so he could make you a coffee for when you woke up. 

Before you knew it, a kiss had been planted in your hair, and a warm mug pressed carefully into your hands. ‘G’mornin Doll.’ Bucky’s voice grumbled above you. You took a sip and did an immediate double-take. ‘You didn’t make this,’ you stated with surprised suspicion. 

Bucky huffed out a laugh as he collapsed back into bed next to you. ‘Nope.’ You took another sip. ‘James Buchanan Barnes, did you seriously order my favourite coffee to our flat to surprise me?’ You couldn’t keep the incredulity out of your tone. 

‘What,’ he asks, sheepish grin tugging at his lips, ‘You looked so cute sleeping. I wanted to spoil you.’

Your chest filled with warmth, a tight choked-up feeling clinging to your throat as you whispered out ‘I love you.’ 

‘I love you too doll, and I see you. I see you.’ 

You sat, side by side, sipping on coffees, poured from takeout cups into mugs because Bucky knew that was how you liked it, listening to the rain. You knew why he was doing it really. Because Bucky Barnes did spoil you. He spoilt you rotten. But you had dinner with your mum tonight. After everything you told him last night, Bucky was reminding you how loved you were. Boosting you. Reassuring you. Promising you. 

‘I’m nervous,’ you admitted, intertwining your fingers around your mug. 

‘I know,’ Bucky spoke softly beside you, ‘but I’m with you through this. You wanna stay, we stay. You wanna go, we go. You wanna blow the whole thing off and go for ice cream? I know a place. Whatever happens today, I’m with you, and I’m not going anywhere.’ You kissed him in response, slow and tender. 

The rest of the day felt like one of those nights where you just can’t sleep. You were jumping from task to task, chore to chore. Nothing was sticking, and nothing felt like it was working. Bucky was texting you throughout the day from the Watchtower:

Just checking in

Saw this dog, thought you’d like it 

Just seen Alpine’s mortal enemy (John) and didn’t kill him :) 

Each message calmed the storm brewing within you. Each message reminded you that Bucky was right by your side. He was with you through this. But it wasn’t just nerves. It wasn’t just fear. It was hope. The same hope that left you let down and deflated every time. You always thought maybe this would be the time. Maybe you’ll have done enough. Maybe they’ll really see you, accept you, love you. You try, you really try, not to get your hopes up. But you can’t help it. She’s your mum. Of course you want to see her. Of course you want it to go well. Of course you want her love. 

So as Bucky helps zip you into your green dress, you can’t help the butterflies that surge in your stomach. He places a kiss on your shoulder, whispering, ‘You look absolutely incredible,’ as your fingers tangle in his hair. ‘You clean up pretty well too, Barnes.’ You turn to face him, slinging your arms around the back of his neck, reaching up on your toes to quickly kiss him. Your phone buzzing to tell you the taxi’s outside breaks the pair of you apart, and as Bucky goes to get your purse and open the door, you catch one last look at yourself in the mirror. You feel good. Maybe for the first time ever, you’re going to meet your mum as a version of yourself you genuinely like. A version of you that feels like you. 

The cab ride to the restaurant blurs as raindrops dwell on the window of the cab, splintering the streetlights glow. It feels both endless and immediate. Ephemeral and permanent. The warmth of the cab was combating the cool air streaming in through the open windows. The gentle hum of an untuned radio and the constant beat of your heart rushing in your ears. Your brain was thinking of everything and nothing all at once. 

‘Doll?’ Bucky’s voice brought you out of your reverie, ‘we’re here.’ You smile at him, filled with hope and dread all at once, taking a deep breath in and squeezing his hand before you step out of the car. Through the front window of the restaurant, you immediately saw your mother. She was sitting at a table tucked in the front corner of the restaurant. Her back was to you, but you knew it was her. Bucky’s hand came to rest on your back, not guiding you through the door, but offering you quiet support, letting you decide when to go in. ‘Here, home, ice cream. Whatever you need,’ he reminded you one last time. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, replying, ‘here.’ The two of you walked in.

‘Wow, honey, look at you! You’ve certainly changed!’ You hear your mum’s voice before she’s in front of you, her voice carrying across the restaurant. ‘Hi mum,’ you reply, a smile on your face as you go in to hug her. ‘Just look at you! You’ve lost a lot of weight, and you look so good on it! I guess I have this fine gentleman here to thank for that.’ Your smile turns into a grimace that you’re quick to hide at her words. You just laugh her off and pivot, turning to Bucky, whose hand returns to your back. ‘Mum, this is Bucky.’ 

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am.’ She blushes under the attention, while Bucky helps you out of your coat and pulls your chair out for you. ‘Oh, such a gentleman’ your mum comments, ‘I wish your father did that.’ 

‘What can I say,’ you reply, ‘maybe chivalry isn’t dead after all.’ You all sit, and light conversation passes between you all as you order. You ask how your mum has been, how your dad is. She asks Bucky about himself, his work, playing the part of the dutiful mother getting to know her child’s partner. Your drinks arrive, and you breathe. Except one drink in, and the small comments start. ‘You know, I really was surprised when y/n told me you were dating. You’re a superhero after all, and, well…’ Your mum doesn’t need to finish the sentence. You all know where it’s going. A thick silence settles briefly over the table, and you feel the prick of something sharp in your heart. 

‘It’s me who got lucky,’ Bucky’s voice comes clear, sure, next to you, as his hand settles just above your knee, reassuring you, ‘You’re daughter is the best person I know, and I’m still not sure I deserve her. But I try every day to be the man she deserves.’ 

Bucky looks at you with the smile he only saves for you, and the pain in your heart eases a little. A different kind of warmth overpowers the old pain. Your hand rests on top of Bucky’s. You ignore how taken aback your mum looks. You let a sip of wine wash it away as the conversation moves on. Your mum keeps her attention focused on Bucky, who dutifully tries to keep bringing you into the conversation. But as the talk goes on and on, you feel more and more like the small, invisible child you worked so hard to grow from. 

‘She always did have to be the centre of attention, always had to have the last word, didn’t you, honey? Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with it.’ 

Old wounds you’d worked so hard to seal over were coming undone, the stitches you and Bucky had put in your soul coming unpicked one by one at your mum’s words. ‘There’s nothing to put up with. Hearing her talk is like having fresh air to breathe. I need it to survive. She’s the smartest person I know. I always want to hear her, know what she’s thinking.’ 

Bucky’s trying. God, he’s trying. But something inside of you has clicked back into fourteen-year-old you. You stare at the white tablecloth in front of you. Your ears feel like they’ve been covered, your voice stopped. You can’t move your eyes from their place. All you want to do is get out. You want to leave. But you can’t.

‘Oh god, don’t tell me we’re doing this again. Eat your damn food, you will not embarrass me in public,’ your mother hisses at you. 

Bucky snaps into action. ‘Okay that’s enough. We’re done here.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ She cries, incredulously. 

‘Do you not see what you’re doing to her? God, your daughter is the best person I know. She’s my sun, and my moon and my whole goddamn universe, and you just can’t see it, can you? She is intelligent, she’s empathetic, she’s loyal and fiercely brave. She never backs down protecting the people she loves, and above all else, she is kind. She’s kind. But you clearly can’t see that, if all you’re interested in doing is bullying her. So we’re done here. All she wanted tonight was for you to see her. To let her be enough. But you don’t want to see her. You just want to tear her down to feel better about yourself. So you don’t get the privilege of seeing her. You don’t get that honour.’ 

Bucky’s words wash over you. Some part of your brain registers them. Stores them. But you still can’t move. You’re trapped in a version of yourself you worked so hard to leave behind. You feel warm hands on your arms. ‘Baby, we’re gonna get you home. It’s okay, you’re okay. Just stay close to me.’ 

Bucky helps you up out of your seat. A warm jacket is draped over your shoulders. Gentle hands guide you past tables and waiters. You don’t register stepping outside. Don’t register the shiver that runs down your spine. All you hear are Bucky’s words.

‘I’m so sorry, angel’

‘We’re gonna get you home’

‘Everything’s gonna be okay.’

‘I got you, I promise.’

Suddenly, you’re back in the soft light of your apartment. Bucky guides you to the sofa, placing a blanket over you and sitting next to you. Hot, wet tears pour down your face. You cry, ugly sobs, shaking your frame and ripping sound from your chest. You cry like a wounded animal. Like you’re grieving. Because in a way, you are. The heavy grief of knowing you��ve lost that one unconditional love you should never have had to fight for. The grief of a mother lost not to illness or age, but through cruelty and malice. 

And Bucky held you through it all. 

He pulled fluffy socks onto your feet. He helped you into the shower and washed your hair. He plaited it the way you like and helped you slip into your pyjamas. He carried you to the sofa, leaving you only for a second to make your favourite tea. He put the playlist he’d made for when you were overwhelmed on softly in the background. 

Eventually, the tears subsided. You and Bucky sat, wrapped in a fragile silence and a fluffy blanket. His shirt was covered in damp patches where he’d held you to him, whispering sweet nothings to you. His eyes were tired and sad. His jaw set with an anger for you that would take a while to dissipate. But his mind and his body was set. If your mum couldn’t recognise how incredible you were, he would make sure you knew it anyway. That you knew your worth was so much more than what she deemed.

‘I’m sorry, Bucky,’ your tired voice croaked out.

‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ Bucky’s voice, thick with emotion, broke as he spoke, hands gently cradling your face, looking into your eyes to make sure you really believed what he was about to say, ‘nothing at all. I am so sorry that she can’t see you, that she doesn’t see how amazing you are.’ 

‘I just want her to see me. To love me.’

He swore his heart broke in that moment.

‘Oh Darlin, you deserve her love, and so, so much more. You are everything, and I love you so, so much. And I know I’m not her. But you have me. You have all my love. Today, tomorrow, forever. I am yours. And I love you so, so much.’

‘I love you too, James,’ you whisper out, ‘endlessly.’ 

Bucky held you. He didn’t move. He held you like his world depended on it. Like if he held you tight enough and close enough, he could physically impress all of his love on your body. Because James Buchanan Barnes had a new mission. To remind you every day how incredible, how special and how loved you were. And he would do anything to prove it to you. 

AN: oof this one hurt too write and hit far too close to the bone, but i hope you like it x

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Working on a WIP rn and realising that I’m writing my very literal trauma into the pages. I can’t decide if this is me processing or triggering as fuck loooool !

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Catch Me, I'm Falling

Bucky x Reader oneshot

Summary: You tend to get hooked on things. It's part of your ADHD. Some things just stick in your brain. And at the minute, it's the self-defence training Bucky's got you doing after you got mugged. And you love it. But you love it so much that you start skipping meals, missing sleep, and deciding that redbull counts as a foodgroup to make time to train. So when everything in the gym becomes fuzzy and starts spinning, the only thing you want is your super-soldier boyfriend to make it better.

TWs: ADHD mentions/hyperfixation to a detrimental effect, fainting.

Jab, hook, block, switch. 

You’d been at it for hours. Ever since you’d been mugged a few weeks ago, walking over to Bucky’s apartment just after sundown, Bucky Barnes had been a little overprotective. Okay, very overprotective. But it filled your heart a little bit, made you feel warm and cozy inside every time his hand rested on your lower back and he dipped his head to whisper a check in into your ear. 

You’d shown up to his place shaking, mascara running down your cheeks, heart pounding fast, hands shaking uncontrollably. Bucky’s world fell apart the moment he’d opened the door and seen you standing there. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck in his gut and had immediately blamed himself. You were shaken up, but unharmed, except for a few bruises on your arms. Bucky had iced and pressed kisses into them like he was searching, begging, for forgiveness. 

It had taken a week to get him to stop escorting you everywhere and another week to get him to stop blaming himself. That was when you’d agreed to training. Just some basic self-defence. You were no avenger, and you didn’t want to be. But you saw Bucky’s worried look that followed you out of each door. He’d tried to get you to learn right when you’d first started dating, warning you his life was dangerous and that he wanted to know you were safe. You’d told him he was all the protection you’d ever need. But then you’d been mugged. So yeah, some basic self-defence couldn’t hurt. Plus, you’d been meaning to get back to the gym anyway. It would be fun! 

And it was. You trained with Sam and/or Torres three days a week, depending on who was at the tower and who wasn’t. You’d told Bucky a condition for you starting was that he didn’t train you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. You did. With your life. But accidents happened in training, planned or not, and you knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he accidentally hurt you. You didn’t need to put that on his conscience. You wouldn’t risk it. 

And as you thought, you loved the sessions! Sam and Joaquin were great teachers; the latter’s excitement and enthusiasm balanced out the former’s seriousness and commitment to technique. You’d leave the classes with your muscles aching in the best way and your body tingling with a kind of aliveness you didn’t know you could feel. You buzzed. Literally, you felt like you were buzzing when you left training. You’d come home every time to show Bucky what you’d learnt with an excited smile on your face, and stories of Sam throwing Joaquin around demonstrating things. 

And Bucky absolutely loved it. He’d let you throw him around the room and pretend to be an attacker so you could practice. He couldn’t help the smiles that bloomed on his face when your eyes lit up under his praise. He loved that you were safe now. But above all? He loved you. 

You were both loving your new training regimen. But that was the problem. You were both loving it so much that it let you ignore the…problems…that came with it. The lack of sleep started because you were missing work hours for training, and needed to catch up on the time somewhere. You missed meals, accidentally, sure, but it was still happening. You’d be running from the office to training, forgetting to pack dinner because you were up late last night catching up on work, grabbing a red-bull and deciding that ‘would do’ as fuel. Plus, you didn’t want to stop your dance classes and hobbies just because you were training with the literal Avengers now. Somehow, you were suddenly out every night of the week, either training or dancing. You lost time to meal prep. You forgot to grab snacks on your way out the door. You’d leave training buzzing, energy only added to by the energy drinks that were fueling your training.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew training was supposed to be making you feel stronger, not weaker. You knew that the world wasn’t supposed to spin every single time you stood up. You knew constant headaches and three hours of sleep a night weren’t good. You knew logically that trying to keep juggling all the things you were doing wasn’t going to work forever. But you had it all under control. You genuinely thought you did. You’d spoken to your mentor about it, the man you’d gone to with everything since you were diagnosed with ADHD. Sure, you may not have given him the exact details, but you’d learnt that you were someone who ultimately just did better having more things on than not. It was how your brain liked to run. It was how you worked.

You didn’t realise that Bucky had started to get concerned. You’d happily eaten the apple that had somehow materialised in your bag for lunch. You signed in relief when you saw the laundry had been done and thanked Bucky with a home-cooked dinner that you definitely didn’t have the time to make. You didn’t realise that the concern in his eyes when you left the room had changed from one for your safety to one worried about how hard you were pushing yourself. Bucky had mentioned in passing that you could drop down to two days a week with the guys if you wanted to. You’d laughed him off, reminding him how much you were enjoying it.

You stood up from your desk, scrunching your eyes shut as the pounding behind your eyes made itself known and the room tilted and swam again. Somewhere, rationally, you knew that you were getting close to pushing a bit too far. It had happened in the past, and you were sure it would happen again in the future, no matter how hard you watched yourself, but you thought you could hold it off a bit longer. The weekend was just around the corner. If you could make it through today and tomorrow, you had two days to catch up on lost sleep and the mountain of tasks you had to do. And meal prep. And spend time with Bucky. And grocery shopping. And dance class. 

Hands on your desk to steady yourself, you blinked your eyes open, standing for a second to make sure you weren’t gonna pass out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen at work - god, how embarrassing. As you straightened up, you pulled a can of redbull up to your lips, finishing it with a gulp before grabbing your training bag and slipping into your trainers. You heard the rustling of something inside your bag, smiling to yourself when you caught the glimmer of your favourite protein bar with a big yellow post-it in your bag. 

‘Caffeine isn’t food! Nor is this really, but it’s better than nothing :) … seriously, doll - real food sometime today. Love you, JBB x’ 

You smiled fondly down at the bar in your hand, shaking your head a little and laughing as you pulled off the post-it, hanging it on your desk divider and ripping open the bar. The first taste of oats and sugar hit your mouth, and you groaned a little in delight. You would eat real food today, you knew you needed to, and that your loving boyfriend would give you his concerned, disapproving look if you didn't. You’d just have to do it after training. 

The blast of cold air as you left your office building made the world tilt again, and the dull pain behind your eyes became more intense. Maybe you were coming down with something. You wrapped your scarf tighter around you, grumbling like a gremlin as you burrowed into the soft material and walked to the tower. You didn’t really remember getting there, or changing, but you must have done it at some point, because the next thing you know, you’re standing in front of a slightly worried-looking Sam Wilson, who’s asking, ‘did you hear any of what I just said?’ Embarrassment coloured your cheeks as you shook your head, an apologetic smile pulling at your lips, ‘Sorry, I guess I’m just a bit spaced out today.’ The frown on Sam’s face was now met with a look of concern on Joaquin’s, who was sitting over by the water cooler and stood up as he said, ‘Too spaced out to train?’ Sam jumped in, ‘There’s no shame in it, but we gotta keep you safe. Don’t want Barnes on our asses, he’d kill us if something happened to you.’ 

‘I-I don’t know, maybe?’ You started replying, realising that the world around you was spinning again, and that it wasn’t stopping. And Jesus, it was hot in here. Why couldn’t you catch your breath? FRIDAY’s voice crackled to life above you all. ‘I’m monitoring an increased heart rate, breathing and low blood pressure. Sargent Barnes is on his way up to this floor, but might I suggest you pause training and sit down?’ 

The worry in Sam’s face turned into panic as he started walking towards you, forcing a calm persona on his face as he shot both arms out, ready to stabilise you. You hadn’t realised you were swaying. Joaquin likewise started crossing the room. You turned your head between them, ‘I, uh, I dont - I think-‘ black spots were clouding your vision. The sound of the elevator opening pulled your head towards it, making the room spin even more violently. Head pounding, heart racing, all you wanted was to be with Bucky. He would help. He always did. 

Bucky was running towards you, worry painting his face as fear ran through his steel blue eyes. You tried to take a step towards him, tried to get your body to cooperate, but when Bucky was only a step away, your knees crumpled beneath you. You couldn’t even move your hands to catch yourself. 

Strong arms caught you just before your body collided with the floor, pulling you into the warmth of someone's chest. The last thing you saw was Bucky, looking down at you with horror in his eyes, his warm, calloused hands cupping your face, him saying something desperate above you, but the black patches of vision grew and you fell into them. 

You were floating. Bobbing up and down in a warm sea. Your senses came back to you in parts; your vision combined with a blistering headache behind your eyes, your ears ringing before you could make out any sound. But when you do, waves of comfort roll over you, because somewhere near you, Bucky Barnes is speaking to you. His hushed promises sound like a prayer, repeating over and over again that ‘I got you, baby, you’re gonna be just fine. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.’ 

You’re in Bucky’s arms, some part of your mind realises. That’s where the bobbing was coming from. Hmm, maybe you’d fallen asleep watching a film, and he was carrying you to bed. It’d happened before.  You just snuggled tighter into his chest, pressing into his warmth when the hand on your back shifts slightly, fingers brushing the side of your face. You struggle to force your eyes open to look up at him. The dopey smile on your face dissolves almost instantly when you see how scared he looks. 

‘Hey, baby, you’re gonna be just fine. You don’t gotta worry, you’re gonna be okay.’

The words wash over you like a calm wave, but before you can reply, Bucky walks the pair of you into a room with bright, sterile lights that make the pain in your head worse. You grimace, trying to burrow deeper into Bucky, and you can’t help but flinch as someone pulls your body from its comfort in Bucky’s arms. 

‘It’s okay,’ he whispers above you while someone lays you down on something soft. ‘I’m right here. Not going anywhere doll.’ You feel his hands, the signature of warmth and coolness in one, wrapping around your own. You forced your eyes to open again despite their protest at the bright, clinical lights above you. Everything’s fuzzy, and you still feel like you’re floating, but you blink up at Bucky, your face crumpling into concern, seeing how worried he looks. You frown and try to sit up, to reach for him, to comfort him, but his hands are on you before you can, gently guiding you back down to the bed. 

‘Nope, you gotta lie here for me right now, okay?’ 

In your daze, you still don’t understand what’s going on, why Bucky looked so worried. ’What happened?’ You croak out, looking up at him, and hissing as something sharp hits your arm opposite Bucky. Your head turns to the source of the pain; someone had put a needle in your arm. You try to form a word, but only let out a mumbled mesh of sounds before Bucky’s human hand is ever so gently tilting your head to look at him again.

‘You passed out,’ Bucky softly tells you, before he sighs out, ‘you scared the shit out of me.’ 

You go to say something, but Bucky’s thumb runs over your cheek, softly calming you, promising he isn’t going anywhere. ‘Shh, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Doll. You don’t gotta say anything right now, just rest yeah? I’ll be here when you wake up.’ 

You look into Bucky’s eyes once more, something in his face that is a merge of sadness and comfort convinces you he’s telling the truth. You nod into his hands, letting the darkness pull you under again.

The next time you wake up, the world comes to you more complete and with less pain. The steady beeping of the heart rate monitor and soft light of the evening greeting you as you woke up. Slowly, you blink your eyes open. Your body feels heavy and uncooperative, but peaceful. 

‘You know, I don’t think they mean the whole ‘falling’ part of falling in love thing literally.’ 

You turn your head to see Bucky sitting at your side, his hand wrapped around yours, his eyes red and tired, but less scared than you remember last seeing them. You don’t know what to say. You know that Bucky’s only joking, trying to deflect the panic he’d been feeling, but shame flushes your cheeks nonetheless. Before you think of even a fake laugh, Bucky’s leaning over you, pressing a kiss to your head, one of promise and devotion, of love and care. He whispers above you, ‘You really scared me, doll.’ Your hand without a needle in it comes up to cradle his face, holding him for a second. 

As he pulls away, the memories of what had happened flood your brain. You’d passed out in the gym training. Bucky had carried you here. You let out a groan, one of embarrassment and frustration. Before you even realise it, tears are welling in your eyes, threatening to fall. Bucky sees them and, in an instant, has moved to sit on the edge of your bed, his hand cradling your cheek. 

‘Hey, hey,’ he jumps in immediately, ‘I’m not mad. You’re okay, we’re okay.’ 

‘I just-’ you swallow, ‘I thought I was on top of things. I thought I had it under control. I…’ you trail off into quiet, not knowing how to finish your sentence. Bucky kisses your forehead again, before replying gently, ‘I know. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. I know you can look after yourself doll. I promise, I know.’ You nod, the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. ‘I put too much on your plate, training too many days a week for too many hours on top of work and everything else. This is on me, doll. You were just tryin’ to make me happy; I’m sorry, I pushed you too far.’ 

You wipe the tears, flinching slightly at the pull from the IV line. ‘No, no, this isn’t on you. Hey, it’s okay. I like it, hell, I love training! I just,’ you sigh, your lip wobbling as you tried to calm down, ‘I let myself get overwhelmed, and I tried to barrel through. I thought I was on top of it, and I wasn’t. I thought I was proving something to everyone, to myself.’ 

‘You never have to prove anything to anyone, yourself included, love. Especially not when it leads to you passing out in the gym. I just - I should have seen this happening, and I didn’t. I let you push yourself too far, and you could’ve got hurt.’

‘It’s okay, Bucky. I promise, it’s okay. I got hooked on training and we both missed it - this isn’t on either of us alone. I thought I was okay, and this happened.’ Your hands clasp Bucky’s face now, gently guiding it until he’s looking back at you, ‘But we caught it. You caught it, okay. You saved me, literally. I’m going to be alright, baby, I promise.’ 

Bucky slowly nods, his own hands coming up to his face to match yours. He slowly brings your hands to his lips as he places chaste kisses onto the palm of each. You sit up, Bucky moving in an instant to help guide you as you pull him into a kiss, delicate, tender, united, before you come apart, simply resting foreheads against each other. 

After a while, and without a word, you scoot over in the bed, opening up a space and gesturing for Bucky to join you. He looks at you tentatively, but your raised eyebrow shuts him up quickly enough. Careful of the various wires attached to you, Bucky gingerly climbs into the too-small bed next to you, helping you shift until your head’s resting on his chest. His fingers move to absent-mindedly brush through your hair. 

‘You scared the crap out of the guys, too, by the way.’ You turn your head to look up at Bucky. ‘Joaquin made sure you got down here and has literally been hiding from me since. Sam hasn’t stopped standing guard outside your room, keeps texting me apologies.’ You let out a chuckle, nuzzling closer into Bucky, ‘they’re silly,’ you say fondly. ‘They are,’ Bucky agrees, ‘but they care about you. I’ve never seen Joaquin look so upset before, you know?’ You hum into Bucky, tired once more. ‘Although,’ Bucky carries on, ‘if you ever pass out from training again, I will kill them.’ 

‘Bucky!’ You cry in a mock-outrage.

‘What? I can’t have my best girl passing out on me again.’

‘Hmm, I’ll do my best.’ You jokingly promise. But Bucky’s face above you becomes serious once more. His hand continues running peacefully through your hair, ‘just so you know,’ he says, ‘you’re on bed rest until further notice. No work, no training. Just three meals a day, a shit tonne of water and move marathons.’ 

‘And will my very devoted, loving boyfriend be joining me?’ You ask.

‘Oh doll, I’m never leaving your side ever again.’ 

You let out a laugh at Bucky’s words, but you know a part of him is deadly serious. Once you’re better, you’re gonna have to use some of the tricks Sam gave you to sneak out. But honestly? As you cuddle back into Bucky, letting his fingers run through your hair, you couldn’t think of anything better. Just you, Bucky, soft blankets and movies. Yep. You weren’t exactly glad you passed out, but if this was the result, it wasn’t all bad. 

AN - I kind of feel like this reader is the same as my reader in Take A Break. If people seem to like it then maybe it'll turn into a series...we shall see ! Much love as ever for anyone reading & sharing x

[figtreesandmoonlight]

🥹🥹🥹 eeee thank you so much !!!!!! I LOVE ur work so this means a lot !! ❤️

The Small Things Pt 2

Summary: You thought you could survive it. Endure the bruises, the fear, the silence. But now Bucky knows and is ready to tear the world apart to keep you safe. The fight isn’t over, not when the past still knows your name, but with the Avengers at your back and Bucky’s hand in yours, maybe this time you won’t have to fight alone.

read P1 here

Trigger Warnings: domestic abuse, violence, nightmares/PTSD

Bucky Barnes had been sat still long enough that his back ached and his eyes were sore. But he barely noticed it. The silent vigil he kept over your sleeping form wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He followed the slow rise and fall of your chest like it was a prayer. Watched your eyes flutter in your sleep like it was a hymn. Sleeplessness was nothing new to Bucky, but watching over you, guarding you, so that you could have just one safe night's sleep? That was something he’d hoped he would never have to do for you. That you’d never experience something that meant he’d need to do this.

But you needed him. So he’d be damned if he went anywhere else. 

He may have been sat silently, but inside, his world was unravelling. There’s no way to describe the rage and anguish that was tearing through Bucky. He replayed every moment. Every single time he’d been in a room with Mark, the first time you’d introduced him, begging Bucky to ‘give him a chance’, the dinners, the films he left early. 

Where were the signs? What had he missed? How had he let this happen? How had he let this happen to you? The first person to make him feel normal. To make him feel alive. To make him feel whole. He’d let someone tear you down. Put their hands on you. Hurt you. He’d missed the small things that told him what was happening. The pulling away. The skipped nights out. You’d been forced to pull away from him. And he’d just let you. 

He wanted to cry, wrap you in his arms, break things, and kill Mark all at once. But his priority was you. It would always be you from now on. Never. He was never going to forgive himself for this. And he was never going to let Mark lay a single hand on you ever again. 

Bucky was pulled from his self-interrogation by the sound of a whimper. His head snapped immediately to your sleeping form. The sight nearly broke him. The panic and fear on your face, the way your body shifted in your sleep, hiding away from some invisible but remembered source of pain. Slurred, mumbled words fell from your lips. ‘No, please, please, not again. I promise it won't - AH!’ It was the cry of pain and the sight of a tear falling from your closed eyes that spurred Bucky into action.

He practically flew out of the chair he’d been sitting on, to be next to your sleeping form on the bed. He crouched at your side, and started calling to you. ‘You’re safe. You’re not there. Come back to me.’

You woke as another cry of pain left your body, sitting up immediately, every muscle in you tensed and ready to run, to hide, from wherever the pain was coming from. You scrambled backwards, up the bed, head hitting hard into the headboard behind you. Your eyes darted wildly around the room, looking for him. For Mark. 

‘Please, no, no, no.’ 

Your disoriented cries broke Bucky’s heart. He kept his words coming, tone soft, body calm, hands held up, trying to make himself look as least threatening as possible until you recognised where you are. 

‘No one’s going to hurt you. It’s me, it’s Bucky.’ He did everything he could to keep his tone level and calm, slowly coaxing your terrified mind back into reality, rather than the hellscape it had been trapped in. ‘You’re in my room at the compound. You’re safe here. You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you. I’m gonna keep you safe.’ 

That got through to you. Your eyes stopped scanning the room for threats and settled on the man in front of you. Bucky. You swallowed roughly, taking a deeper breath. Your head tilted slightly as, finally, you recognised him, recognised the room you were in. All at once, the tension in your body drained away as you melted into the bedding around you. Your breathing was still a little quick as Bucky, slowly, so you knew he wasn’t going to reach for you, moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He locked eyes with you, giving you a gentle nod, which you returned. 

‘There she is,’ he whispered out, offering you his hand, which you timidly accepted, shuffling over to him. Bucky let you lead the movement, slowly reaching him as you collapsed into a hug, your forehead resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you in a silent promise of safety. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you mumbled out. Bucky’s hand came, slowly, to rest under your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. 

‘Never be. Not with me.’ You nodded into his chest in response. You stayed like that for quite a while, letting your shot nervous system recognise the safety it was in. That you were safe. 

And with Bucky, you knew you were. But as the sun began to stream in through the cracks in his drawn curtains, reality wormed its way into your brain. Bucky knew. He wasn’t going to make you go back. Hell, he wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to. But where the hell did you go now? Before you could vocalise even the beginnings of your thoughts, Bucky noticed the storm whirring around in your brain.

‘Why don’t we go get some coffee?’ He asked softly. You forced a small smile onto your lips, nodding. He wants you out. You’re not surprised. You’re a hot mess who can’t even protect herself, and now you crashed in his bed and woke him up with a stupid nightmare. Of course he wanted you to leave. Your brain moved at a million miles an hour: ‘I can go make it. Why don’t you get into bed and sleep a bit, I can’t imagine how tired you must be. Give me like 5 minutes and I’ll be out of your-’

‘Woah, breathe, doll, breathe. I’m not tired. You don’t gotta make me coffee. And you sure as hell ain’t going anywhere.’ He spoke to you with the softness you would an injured kitten, trying with his words to promise you that you weren’t a burden, that you weren’t some inconvenience. ‘Let’s both go get some coffee, yeah?’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, as the sudden wave of anxiety that had crashed into you passed. You nodded, ‘O-okay.’

Bucky rose slowly, offering you his hand and helping you to your feet. The pair of you moved in silence to the kitchen, but your hands couldn’t help but fidget with the sleeves of Bucky’s oversized jumper from nerves. Bucky noticed. Of course he did. He slowly wrapped one of his arms around you, pulling you closer into his side, another promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. That you weren’t either.

You settled at one of the stools under the marble counter while Bucky moved with practised ease around the kitchen, checking you still took your coffee the same way as he pressed a few buttons on the coffee machine and it whirred to life, pouring you a cup. He repeated the actions before coming to sit next to you, pressing your favourite mug into your hands, warm and smelling of comfort. You took a sip and sighed softly, basking in the brief comfort and stillness of the moment. The sunlight, coffee and Bucky. It had once been such a common occurrence in your life, but now felt like a treasured, special moment, to be grasped with both hands and never let go. But there was a reason you were here, and you couldn’t ignore the truth forever. 

‘What am I gonna do, Bucky?’ You asked, looking up at him and brushing some hair behind your ear. You didn’t understand why Bucky looked so sad in response.

‘You’re not gonna do anything, Doll.’ Your heart sank into your stomach, but before you could say anything, Bucky carried on. ‘We are gonna sort this out. However you want. We can get your stuff and you can crash here or anywhere else as long as you need to. Or I can go get it on my own. I get it if you never wanna go back there. I can get you a hotel room if you don’t wanna explain to the team why you’re here. Or we can come up with a cover story. Whatever you want. But you have a home here as long as you want it. And I’ll do anything you want, but we’re getting you out, and I’m gonna make sure you never have to deal with that piece of shit ever again.’

You sat for a moment, letting Bucky’s words sink in. He wasn’t going to send you away. He was giving you an out. Not only an out. He was giving you a new life, safe, and away from the pain of a life with Mark. You felt the tears welling up, and did nothing to stop them falling as you nodded, a soft smile on your lips, a smile of relief and heartbreak all in one. 

‘That,’ your voice wobbled as you spoke, ‘that sounds good. I think - I think I wanna come with you to get my stuff. I think I need to be there, to do it myself. And I think I need to do it today? Before I lose my nerve’

‘Of course, doll. I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you.’

‘What do we do if he’s there?’

‘I’ll take care of it.’ 

Bucky’s answer was so simple, so decisive. You could only trust him. The thought of having to see Mark again terrified you. How would he react? What he would say? But you could see the promise in Bucky’s eyes. He would keep you safe, you knew it. He carried on, ‘How do you feel about me letting the team know what’s going on while you get ready? I can tell them as much or as little as you want.’ 

‘You can tell them. I just,’ you broke off, colour rising to your cheeks, ‘I just won’t want them looking at me like I’m weak.’

Bucky’s hand rested on your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes promising he spoke only the truth as he said, ‘You’re not weak. Hell, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through hell alone. But we’re here now. Let us help.’ 

‘Okay. That, that sounds okay.’ You finished your coffee, heading back to Bucky’s room to get showered and changed, while FRIDAY called the rest of the New Avengers and Sam to the kitchen. You didn’t want the sad looks, the pity. But you wanted the support. God, you needed it. And letting Bucky tell them made it feel slightly easier as an idea. 

So you stepped into the steaming hot water, letting it run over the bruises on your body, easing the dull ache as the scent of vanilla filled the air. You finally let the tears of relief pour through you with abandon. This was different to the tears last night. They were ones of grief, of mourning. But these? These meant hope. They meant you were getting out. So you let yourself feel the relief you’d been avoiding. Let yourself realise it was real. 

Stepping back into Bucky’s room, hair washed and wrapped in the fluffiest towel, you pulled open his wardrobe, taking a soft t-shirt and a pair of joggers out of it, the same kind of outfit he would lend you when you used to spend the night. You grimaced at the sight of the bruises on your arms. But you weren’t ashamed of them anymore. The way Bucky had kissed them last night turned them into battle scars. 

Without letting yourself think twice, you pulled the door open and walked back to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway and taking in the sight, the tension in the air, the team sat on the sofas, looking at Bucky. Ava had a tear running down her cheek. Sam looked stoic, composed, but you knew him well enough to recognise the rage behind his eyes. Alexi was pacing, Yelena sharpening a knife, John saying something about tactics. With a deep breath, you walked into the room fully, drawing their attention to you. 

The next second, Alexi had engulfed your form in the gentlest hug he had ever given in his life. ‘You are warrior, little scientist,’ he said, voice soft and low, meant only for your ears, ‘Let us fight alongside you now.’ You nodded up at the giant of a man with a tender smile, one that told them of your nerves, your fear, but also your relief and your trust. 

The rest of the team had stood now, not rushing to crowd you, but making space for you, letting you know that if you wanted them, they were there. You walked over to them, filling a space between Yelena and Sam on the sofa as the rest of the team sat with you. Without a word, Sam pulled you into his side in a hug, while Yelena whispered lowly, ‘You have us now. We will keep you safe. Whatever you need, we’re here.’ 

You squeezed her hand in response before Bucky cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him. ‘They’ve all offered to come, Doll. However you want them, in the car, in the apartment. Or they can stay here. It’s up to you.’ There’s no adequate way to describe the fullness of your heart in that moment. You thought you might burst as emotions filled you that you didn’t even know you could still feel. They had your back. All of them. And they wanted you here. 

‘Can they come, but stay in the car? I don’t know if he’ll be there, but  I don’t wanna cause a scene unless he tries anything.’ 

John said something that sounded like ‘he won’t even be able to try’, but you didn’t catch the full thing. Bucky jumped in before anyone else could say anything. ‘That sounds good. Are you ok if I come in with you, in case he’s already there?’ You nodded your head. Yes. You wanted Bucky everywhere. Anywhere and everywhere. You felt safe with him. You trusted him. 

From there, you let the team talk logistics that washed over you. You recognised the sounds, but knew you could trust them to plan. You just needed to think through what you needed. It wasn’t a lot. The rest of the team went to prep their gear - minimal, Bucky instructed - while Sam stayed with you, a quiet comfort, while you made a list. A few photos. Some clothes, but not many - they held too many memories. Some toiletries. The music from your mum. It would be quick. In and out. Then you would be free. 

Sam’s voice drew you from your thoughts. ‘If you need someone to talk to about all of this, you can come to me. Or if you want it to be someone else, I can find you someone. Just let me know.’ 

‘Thanks, Sammy,’ you replied, hugging him.  You were the only person in the world other than his nephews, he let call him that. 

‘Of course. I just - whatever you need, just let me know.’

‘Can we have a movie night tonight? Like we used to? With popcorn and chocolate?’

Sam’s rumbling laugh vibrated against your chest, ‘one film night coming up.’

A few quiet moments of comfort later, the team had all returned to the sofa area. They all looked more or less unarmed, and you decided not to probe. You trusted them to listen to Bucky for this. To follow your lead. To give what you needed, not more. No guns blazing. No wild punch-ups. 

Bucky was the last to enter, standing in front of you on the couch. He offered you a hand. ‘You ready doll?’ You took his hand, drawing in a deep breath, before standing, saying ‘yes’ as you did. 

The ride to your apartment was quiet. You, Bucky, Yelena and Sam were in one car, Alexi, John, Ava and Bob in one following close behind. Someone had turned the radio on, and you were thankful for the quiet, meaningless noise floating around you that stopped you thinking too hard about what you were about to do. 

You knew you were close as the streets Bucky drove through led you to what was once your home. But not anymore. Bucky pulled up outside your apartment building, softly letting you know there was ‘no rush’. That they would stay there as long as you needed, in the safety of the car. And if you realised you weren’t up for it today? They could always come back tomorrow. 

A minute passed. Then five. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the thoughts whirring like a hurricane in your brain. His car wasn't in its usual spot, so he probably wasn’t in. You just wanted it done with. So with another deep breath, you clenched your jaw and turned to Bucky. ‘I’m ready.’

With shaky hands, you opened your car door, sending a grateful smile to the team in the back seat and the car behind you. Bucky came to stand next to you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, giving you comfort and support in one. You let him guide you through the lobby and into the elevator. As the doors closed and the elevator started to rise, he spoke softly: ‘You’re safe. I promise. I know how hard this is. You’re doing so, so well.’

The elevator doors opened slowly, letting you and Bucky step out onto your floor. Bucky led the way to your door, never rushing you, but helping you along, knowing that you needed support through this. When you lifted the key out of your pocket, your hands shook. Without a word, Bucky’s larger hand closed around yours, helping you steady yourself as you put the key into the lock. Before you turned it, he whispered, ‘let me go in first, make sure it’s safe.’ You nodded in response. 

The door creaked open, revealing your front room. It had been destroyed. The coffee table was on its side with a leg broken off, lamps were shattered, books thrown across the floor, and, of course, bottles of beer scattered across the rug. But the lights were off. You let out a shaky sigh of relief at that. Still, you let Bucky go in first, waiting for him in the corridor as your heart nearly pulsed out of your chest. 

You jumped a little as Bucky reappeared in front of you. ‘It’s all clear, doll. You wanna come in? It’s not too late to change your mind.’ 

You gave Bucky a sad smile. ‘It’s okay. I knew something like this would happen when I didn’t text him or come home last night.’ Still, it hurt your heart to see the life you’d made scattered across the room in front of you. He’d done this before. But every other time, it’d been you having to put it back together again. But not this time. You didn’t have to cover for him anymore. Never had to clean up his mess ever again. 

You walked through the space like a ghost, as though you weren’t really there, Bucky following you close behind, protective and reassuring every step of the way. You walked into your bedroom and pulled a bag out of the closet, filling it methodically, grabbing only the essentials while Bucky stayed by the door, giving you some privacy and keeping watch over you.

A door slammed. Glass shattered. Shit. 

‘Where the fuck are you?!’

Your entire body tensed, your knuckled turning white around the strap of the bag you were holding. Your head snapped to Bucky, panic rising in you, breaths shortening and turning into gasps of fear. He looked straight back at you. Your hands were shaking. Your feet wouldn’t move. He was here. He was here, and he was going to hurt you. You were never going to get away. Never going to be safe. 

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You fucking slut, bringing your boytoy here.’ Mark spat at you, sending violent gestures your way, ‘Bet you already got on your knees for him. Let him use you like the pathetic bitch you are.’ 

In the space of a second, Bucky had put his body between you and Mark, who, red-faced and fists clenched, now stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He held the broken top of a glass bottle, sharp and deadly, clenched in his fist. 

Bucky’s voice cut through the room, jaw and fist clenched, low and deadly. ‘You’re not going to take one more step towards her.’

‘Oh yeah? Or what, you stupid, soviet mass-murderer? What the fuck are you gonna do about it? You’re just mad that you don’t get your favourite fuck toy-’ 

Mark’s tirade was cut off with a strangling, choking sound. Bucky had crossed the room in a single stride. You hadn’t even seen him move. But Mark’s feet were dangling in the air, two feet above the ground, and Bucky had his throat clenched in his metal hand, Mark's body pinned between Bucky and the wall behind him. The glass bottle shattered into tiny shards as Mark dropped it, clawing at the hand around his neck. 

‘You will never,’ Bucky growled out, ‘never speak about her like that again.’ 

Bucky dropped him to the ground, barely giving him a second to breathe before his fist collided with Mark’s face, making a sick cracking sound as he broke Mark’s nose, blood flowing as he collapsed to the ground. 

‘You will never look at her again. You will never even think about her again, or I swear to god, I will find you. And I will kill you.’

‘How dare you think you can lay a hand on her? How dare you hurt her? The only reason I’m not killing you here and now is because of her. Because I know that, no matter how much of a pathetic, worthless human being you are, and how much you deserve it, it would hurt her to see. Because she is good. She is so god damn good, and she is too good for you.’

Bucky muddled his fist into the front of Mark’s shirt, pulling his limp, flailing body up to him, speaking low enough that only Mark could hear what he was saying. ‘But if I hear that you’ve even breathed near her, or that you’ve hurt anyone else, I won’t be so kind.’

Bucky threw him to the ground, ignoring the grunt of pain that left Mark’s lips as he did so. He left the man curled in on himself, looking every bit like the pathetic piece of shit he was. 

But then he turned to you, and every single part of him softened. His eyes which had been hardened with hatred, melted into pure love and concern. Your eyes were fixed on where Mark was lying on the floor. Your hands were still shaking. You’d all but stopped breathing. Bucky moved towards you slowly, careful not to spook you, ducking his head into your eyeline with the softest, most caring blue eyes you’d ever seen. His hand gently found its place on your cheek, moving your face to look him in the eye. A single tear fell down your face.

‘You’re okay, Doll. He can't hurt you now. He’s never going to hurt you ever again. But it’s about time we leave, okay? Do you think you can walk?’ 

You nodded numbly to Bucky, letting his other hand come to your face, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, before whispering, ‘I’m so, so sorry you had to see that.’ 

‘It’s okay,’ you whispered out, looking into his blue eyes, asking ‘Can we go?’

‘Of course we can, darling.’ Without another word, Bucky took your bag over his arm, wrapping the other around your still-shaking form, his hand on your lower back slowly guiding you out of the room. He kept talking to you the whole way out of the apartment. Kept whispering praise into your hair, promising you that you were safe now, telling you how well you’d done, that you never had to see that man ever again. 

You barely remembered the journey out of the building. The team stood outside, weapons drawn, just waiting for the signal from Bucky after they’d seen Mark appear. The drive back to the compound was a blur. No one said a word. But you felt Yelena’s hand softly squeeze your shoulder as she got out of the car, leaving only you and Bucky behind. You sat for a while, just staring numbly out of the front window of the car, until Bucky’s voice, thick and heavy with guilt, broke through the fog in your mind.

‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that. If you want to stay with Yelena, or Ava, or get a hotel, if you need some time away from me, I get it.’

Your head snapped up to face Bucky in shock, a frown pulling at your eyebrows.

‘Bucky, you saved me. If you hadn’t been there, he- I…’ you trailed off, not wanting to admit just how badly it could have gone. You would have been bleeding for sure. You probably would have been dead. Bucky Barnes had just saved your life, and he was beating himself up over it. 

Slowly, your hand found his, perched on the gear stick, clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. They softened under your touch as you squeezed his hand, telling him, ‘There is no one, James, no one, that I feel safer with than you.’ He turned to look at you, surprise colouring his own expression, only to be met with complete honesty in yours. You squeezed his hand again. ‘Let’s go inside, yeah?’ 

‘Yeah, Doll, let’s.’

As you and Bucky entered the common room, your breath was taken away. Everyone else had thrown on sweats, made a mountain of blankets, put soft lighting on, and fired up the TV. Popcorn was being thrown by Sam at John while he made some stupid joke. Yelena walked over and handed you a glass of wine. Ava called you over to pick a movie. Alexi was getting comfy on a beanbag while Bob brought through chocolate and sweets. 

Everyone was there. A small, silent part of you had dreaded the idea of your first night alone. But Sam had listened to the small thing you asked for. And here it was. A film night. Everyone, buried under soft fabrics and lit by the glow of a TV screen, together. No room for panic or noise in your head. Only comfort and safety. Bucky stepped to face you, offering you his hand. He whispered quietly to you, ‘only if you want to.’ Letting you know you had a choice. That if you needed to run and hide, you could. 

But you didn’t want to. Your days of hiding in misery, sorrow and pain were done. You had a family now, one that was welcoming you back with open arms. You were safe. You were loved. You were seen for all of the small things that made you whole, that made you happy. And your family, Bucky was there to give you it all. 

You slipped your hand into his, smiling up at him as he led you to a spot on the sofa, reserved for the pair of you. He wrapped you in a blanket, passed to popcorn and snacks, and held you tight against his side. His fingers carded through your hair, careful of the now nearly faded bruise in your hairline. 

The film in front of you was playing, everyone else enraptured, when you realised Bucky wasn’t looking at the screen, but at you. You turned to him, whispering a ‘thank you’ that held so much in it. You rested your head on his shoulder as you carried on watching. 

‘Always, Doll. I got you always. For everything. The big things and the small things. I got you.’ 

taglist: @happygalaxymilkshake @honeywithemoney @siorcguardian @energerstar @sinistersnakey @avatarofthetimelords Legends i cannot tell me how much it means that you enjoyed part 1 enough to be tagged for p2 !! Sending you all so so much love

[figtreesandmoonlight]

The Small Things Pt 2

Summary: You thought you could survive it. Endure the bruises, the fear, the silence. But now Bucky knows and is ready to tear the world apart to keep you safe. The fight isn’t over, not when the past still knows your name, but with the Avengers at your back and Bucky’s hand in yours, maybe this time you won’t have to fight alone.

read P1 here

Trigger Warnings: domestic abuse, violence, nightmares/PTSD

Bucky Barnes had been sat still long enough that his back ached and his eyes were sore. But he barely noticed it. The silent vigil he kept over your sleeping form wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He followed the slow rise and fall of your chest like it was a prayer. Watched your eyes flutter in your sleep like it was a hymn. Sleeplessness was nothing new to Bucky, but watching over you, guarding you, so that you could have just one safe night's sleep? That was something he’d hoped he would never have to do for you. That you’d never experience something that meant he’d need to do this.

But you needed him. So he’d be damned if he went anywhere else. 

He may have been sat silently, but inside, his world was unravelling. There’s no way to describe the rage and anguish that was tearing through Bucky. He replayed every moment. Every single time he’d been in a room with Mark, the first time you’d introduced him, begging Bucky to ‘give him a chance’, the dinners, the films he left early. 

Where were the signs? What had he missed? How had he let this happen? How had he let this happen to you? The first person to make him feel normal. To make him feel alive. To make him feel whole. He’d let someone tear you down. Put their hands on you. Hurt you. He’d missed the small things that told him what was happening. The pulling away. The skipped nights out. You’d been forced to pull away from him. And he’d just let you. 

He wanted to cry, wrap you in his arms, break things, and kill Mark all at once. But his priority was you. It would always be you from now on. Never. He was never going to forgive himself for this. And he was never going to let Mark lay a single hand on you ever again. 

Bucky was pulled from his self-interrogation by the sound of a whimper. His head snapped immediately to your sleeping form. The sight nearly broke him. The panic and fear on your face, the way your body shifted in your sleep, hiding away from some invisible but remembered source of pain. Slurred, mumbled words fell from your lips. ‘No, please, please, not again. I promise it won't - AH!’ It was the cry of pain and the sight of a tear falling from your closed eyes that spurred Bucky into action.

He practically flew out of the chair he’d been sitting on, to be next to your sleeping form on the bed. He crouched at your side, and started calling to you. ‘You’re safe. You’re not there. Come back to me.’

You woke as another cry of pain left your body, sitting up immediately, every muscle in you tensed and ready to run, to hide, from wherever the pain was coming from. You scrambled backwards, up the bed, head hitting hard into the headboard behind you. Your eyes darted wildly around the room, looking for him. For Mark. 

‘Please, no, no, no.’ 

Your disoriented cries broke Bucky’s heart. He kept his words coming, tone soft, body calm, hands held up, trying to make himself look as least threatening as possible until you recognised where you are. 

‘No one’s going to hurt you. It’s me, it’s Bucky.’ He did everything he could to keep his tone level and calm, slowly coaxing your terrified mind back into reality, rather than the hellscape it had been trapped in. ‘You’re in my room at the compound. You’re safe here. You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you. I’m gonna keep you safe.’ 

That got through to you. Your eyes stopped scanning the room for threats and settled on the man in front of you. Bucky. You swallowed roughly, taking a deeper breath. Your head tilted slightly as, finally, you recognised him, recognised the room you were in. All at once, the tension in your body drained away as you melted into the bedding around you. Your breathing was still a little quick as Bucky, slowly, so you knew he wasn’t going to reach for you, moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He locked eyes with you, giving you a gentle nod, which you returned. 

‘There she is,’ he whispered out, offering you his hand, which you timidly accepted, shuffling over to him. Bucky let you lead the movement, slowly reaching him as you collapsed into a hug, your forehead resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you in a silent promise of safety. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you mumbled out. Bucky’s hand came, slowly, to rest under your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. 

‘Never be. Not with me.’ You nodded into his chest in response. You stayed like that for quite a while, letting your shot nervous system recognise the safety it was in. That you were safe. 

And with Bucky, you knew you were. But as the sun began to stream in through the cracks in his drawn curtains, reality wormed its way into your brain. Bucky knew. He wasn’t going to make you go back. Hell, he wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to. But where the hell did you go now? Before you could vocalise even the beginnings of your thoughts, Bucky noticed the storm whirring around in your brain.

‘Why don’t we go get some coffee?’ He asked softly. You forced a small smile onto your lips, nodding. He wants you out. You’re not surprised. You’re a hot mess who can’t even protect herself, and now you crashed in his bed and woke him up with a stupid nightmare. Of course he wanted you to leave. Your brain moved at a million miles an hour: ‘I can go make it. Why don’t you get into bed and sleep a bit, I can’t imagine how tired you must be. Give me like 5 minutes and I’ll be out of your-’

‘Woah, breathe, doll, breathe. I’m not tired. You don’t gotta make me coffee. And you sure as hell ain’t going anywhere.’ He spoke to you with the softness you would an injured kitten, trying with his words to promise you that you weren’t a burden, that you weren’t some inconvenience. ‘Let’s both go get some coffee, yeah?’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, as the sudden wave of anxiety that had crashed into you passed. You nodded, ‘O-okay.’

Bucky rose slowly, offering you his hand and helping you to your feet. The pair of you moved in silence to the kitchen, but your hands couldn’t help but fidget with the sleeves of Bucky’s oversized jumper from nerves. Bucky noticed. Of course he did. He slowly wrapped one of his arms around you, pulling you closer into his side, another promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. That you weren’t either.

You settled at one of the stools under the marble counter while Bucky moved with practised ease around the kitchen, checking you still took your coffee the same way as he pressed a few buttons on the coffee machine and it whirred to life, pouring you a cup. He repeated the actions before coming to sit next to you, pressing your favourite mug into your hands, warm and smelling of comfort. You took a sip and sighed softly, basking in the brief comfort and stillness of the moment. The sunlight, coffee and Bucky. It had once been such a common occurrence in your life, but now felt like a treasured, special moment, to be grasped with both hands and never let go. But there was a reason you were here, and you couldn’t ignore the truth forever. 

‘What am I gonna do, Bucky?’ You asked, looking up at him and brushing some hair behind your ear. You didn’t understand why Bucky looked so sad in response.

‘You’re not gonna do anything, Doll.’ Your heart sank into your stomach, but before you could say anything, Bucky carried on. ‘We are gonna sort this out. However you want. We can get your stuff and you can crash here or anywhere else as long as you need to. Or I can go get it on my own. I get it if you never wanna go back there. I can get you a hotel room if you don’t wanna explain to the team why you’re here. Or we can come up with a cover story. Whatever you want. But you have a home here as long as you want it. And I’ll do anything you want, but we’re getting you out, and I’m gonna make sure you never have to deal with that piece of shit ever again.’

You sat for a moment, letting Bucky’s words sink in. He wasn’t going to send you away. He was giving you an out. Not only an out. He was giving you a new life, safe, and away from the pain of a life with Mark. You felt the tears welling up, and did nothing to stop them falling as you nodded, a soft smile on your lips, a smile of relief and heartbreak all in one. 

‘That,’ your voice wobbled as you spoke, ‘that sounds good. I think - I think I wanna come with you to get my stuff. I think I need to be there, to do it myself. And I think I need to do it today? Before I lose my nerve’

‘Of course, doll. I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you.’

‘What do we do if he’s there?’

‘I’ll take care of it.’ 

Bucky’s answer was so simple, so decisive. You could only trust him. The thought of having to see Mark again terrified you. How would he react? What he would say? But you could see the promise in Bucky’s eyes. He would keep you safe, you knew it. He carried on, ‘How do you feel about me letting the team know what’s going on while you get ready? I can tell them as much or as little as you want.’ 

‘You can tell them. I just,’ you broke off, colour rising to your cheeks, ‘I just won’t want them looking at me like I’m weak.’

Bucky’s hand rested on your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes promising he spoke only the truth as he said, ‘You’re not weak. Hell, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve been through hell alone. But we’re here now. Let us help.’ 

‘Okay. That, that sounds okay.’ You finished your coffee, heading back to Bucky’s room to get showered and changed, while FRIDAY called the rest of the New Avengers and Sam to the kitchen. You didn’t want the sad looks, the pity. But you wanted the support. God, you needed it. And letting Bucky tell them made it feel slightly easier as an idea. 

So you stepped into the steaming hot water, letting it run over the bruises on your body, easing the dull ache as the scent of vanilla filled the air. You finally let the tears of relief pour through you with abandon. This was different to the tears last night. They were ones of grief, of mourning. But these? These meant hope. They meant you were getting out. So you let yourself feel the relief you’d been avoiding. Let yourself realise it was real. 

Stepping back into Bucky’s room, hair washed and wrapped in the fluffiest towel, you pulled open his wardrobe, taking a soft t-shirt and a pair of joggers out of it, the same kind of outfit he would lend you when you used to spend the night. You grimaced at the sight of the bruises on your arms. But you weren’t ashamed of them anymore. The way Bucky had kissed them last night turned them into battle scars. 

Without letting yourself think twice, you pulled the door open and walked back to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway and taking in the sight, the tension in the air, the team sat on the sofas, looking at Bucky. Ava had a tear running down her cheek. Sam looked stoic, composed, but you knew him well enough to recognise the rage behind his eyes. Alexi was pacing, Yelena sharpening a knife, John saying something about tactics. With a deep breath, you walked into the room fully, drawing their attention to you. 

The next second, Alexi had engulfed your form in the gentlest hug he had ever given in his life. ‘You are warrior, little scientist,’ he said, voice soft and low, meant only for your ears, ‘Let us fight alongside you now.’ You nodded up at the giant of a man with a tender smile, one that told them of your nerves, your fear, but also your relief and your trust. 

The rest of the team had stood now, not rushing to crowd you, but making space for you, letting you know that if you wanted them, they were there. You walked over to them, filling a space between Yelena and Sam on the sofa as the rest of the team sat with you. Without a word, Sam pulled you into his side in a hug, while Yelena whispered lowly, ‘You have us now. We will keep you safe. Whatever you need, we’re here.’ 

You squeezed her hand in response before Bucky cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him. ‘They’ve all offered to come, Doll. However you want them, in the car, in the apartment. Or they can stay here. It’s up to you.’ There’s no adequate way to describe the fullness of your heart in that moment. You thought you might burst as emotions filled you that you didn’t even know you could still feel. They had your back. All of them. And they wanted you here. 

‘Can they come, but stay in the car? I don’t know if he’ll be there, but  I don’t wanna cause a scene unless he tries anything.’ 

John said something that sounded like ‘he won’t even be able to try’, but you didn’t catch the full thing. Bucky jumped in before anyone else could say anything. ‘That sounds good. Are you ok if I come in with you, in case he’s already there?’ You nodded your head. Yes. You wanted Bucky everywhere. Anywhere and everywhere. You felt safe with him. You trusted him. 

From there, you let the team talk logistics that washed over you. You recognised the sounds, but knew you could trust them to plan. You just needed to think through what you needed. It wasn’t a lot. The rest of the team went to prep their gear - minimal, Bucky instructed - while Sam stayed with you, a quiet comfort, while you made a list. A few photos. Some clothes, but not many - they held too many memories. Some toiletries. The music from your mum. It would be quick. In and out. Then you would be free. 

Sam’s voice drew you from your thoughts. ‘If you need someone to talk to about all of this, you can come to me. Or if you want it to be someone else, I can find you someone. Just let me know.’ 

‘Thanks, Sammy,’ you replied, hugging him.  You were the only person in the world other than his nephews, he let call him that. 

‘Of course. I just - whatever you need, just let me know.’

‘Can we have a movie night tonight? Like we used to? With popcorn and chocolate?’

Sam’s rumbling laugh vibrated against your chest, ‘one film night coming up.’

A few quiet moments of comfort later, the team had all returned to the sofa area. They all looked more or less unarmed, and you decided not to probe. You trusted them to listen to Bucky for this. To follow your lead. To give what you needed, not more. No guns blazing. No wild punch-ups. 

Bucky was the last to enter, standing in front of you on the couch. He offered you a hand. ‘You ready doll?’ You took his hand, drawing in a deep breath, before standing, saying ‘yes’ as you did. 

The ride to your apartment was quiet. You, Bucky, Yelena and Sam were in one car, Alexi, John, Ava and Bob in one following close behind. Someone had turned the radio on, and you were thankful for the quiet, meaningless noise floating around you that stopped you thinking too hard about what you were about to do. 

You knew you were close as the streets Bucky drove through led you to what was once your home. But not anymore. Bucky pulled up outside your apartment building, softly letting you know there was ‘no rush’. That they would stay there as long as you needed, in the safety of the car. And if you realised you weren’t up for it today? They could always come back tomorrow. 

A minute passed. Then five. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the thoughts whirring like a hurricane in your brain. His car wasn't in its usual spot, so he probably wasn’t in. You just wanted it done with. So with another deep breath, you clenched your jaw and turned to Bucky. ‘I’m ready.’

With shaky hands, you opened your car door, sending a grateful smile to the team in the back seat and the car behind you. Bucky came to stand next to you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, giving you comfort and support in one. You let him guide you through the lobby and into the elevator. As the doors closed and the elevator started to rise, he spoke softly: ‘You’re safe. I promise. I know how hard this is. You’re doing so, so well.’

The elevator doors opened slowly, letting you and Bucky step out onto your floor. Bucky led the way to your door, never rushing you, but helping you along, knowing that you needed support through this. When you lifted the key out of your pocket, your hands shook. Without a word, Bucky’s larger hand closed around yours, helping you steady yourself as you put the key into the lock. Before you turned it, he whispered, ‘let me go in first, make sure it’s safe.’ You nodded in response. 

The door creaked open, revealing your front room. It had been destroyed. The coffee table was on its side with a leg broken off, lamps were shattered, books thrown across the floor, and, of course, bottles of beer scattered across the rug. But the lights were off. You let out a shaky sigh of relief at that. Still, you let Bucky go in first, waiting for him in the corridor as your heart nearly pulsed out of your chest. 

You jumped a little as Bucky reappeared in front of you. ‘It’s all clear, doll. You wanna come in? It’s not too late to change your mind.’ 

You gave Bucky a sad smile. ‘It’s okay. I knew something like this would happen when I didn’t text him or come home last night.’ Still, it hurt your heart to see the life you’d made scattered across the room in front of you. He’d done this before. But every other time, it’d been you having to put it back together again. But not this time. You didn’t have to cover for him anymore. Never had to clean up his mess ever again. 

You walked through the space like a ghost, as though you weren’t really there, Bucky following you close behind, protective and reassuring every step of the way. You walked into your bedroom and pulled a bag out of the closet, filling it methodically, grabbing only the essentials while Bucky stayed by the door, giving you some privacy and keeping watch over you.

A door slammed. Glass shattered. Shit. 

‘Where the fuck are you?!’

Your entire body tensed, your knuckled turning white around the strap of the bag you were holding. Your head snapped to Bucky, panic rising in you, breaths shortening and turning into gasps of fear. He looked straight back at you. Your hands were shaking. Your feet wouldn’t move. He was here. He was here, and he was going to hurt you. You were never going to get away. Never going to be safe. 

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You fucking slut, bringing your boytoy here.’ Mark spat at you, sending violent gestures your way, ‘Bet you already got on your knees for him. Let him use you like the pathetic bitch you are.’ 

In the space of a second, Bucky had put his body between you and Mark, who, red-faced and fists clenched, now stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He held the broken top of a glass bottle, sharp and deadly, clenched in his fist. 

Bucky’s voice cut through the room, jaw and fist clenched, low and deadly. ‘You’re not going to take one more step towards her.’

‘Oh yeah? Or what, you stupid, soviet mass-murderer? What the fuck are you gonna do about it? You’re just mad that you don’t get your favourite fuck toy-’ 

Mark’s tirade was cut off with a strangling, choking sound. Bucky had crossed the room in a single stride. You hadn’t even seen him move. But Mark’s feet were dangling in the air, two feet above the ground, and Bucky had his throat clenched in his metal hand, Mark's body pinned between Bucky and the wall behind him. The glass bottle shattered into tiny shards as Mark dropped it, clawing at the hand around his neck. 

‘You will never,’ Bucky growled out, ‘never speak about her like that again.’ 

Bucky dropped him to the ground, barely giving him a second to breathe before his fist collided with Mark’s face, making a sick cracking sound as he broke Mark’s nose, blood flowing as he collapsed to the ground. 

‘You will never look at her again. You will never even think about her again, or I swear to god, I will find you. And I will kill you.’

‘How dare you think you can lay a hand on her? How dare you hurt her? The only reason I’m not killing you here and now is because of her. Because I know that, no matter how much of a pathetic, worthless human being you are, and how much you deserve it, it would hurt her to see. Because she is good. She is so god damn good, and she is too good for you.’

Bucky muddled his fist into the front of Mark’s shirt, pulling his limp, flailing body up to him, speaking low enough that only Mark could hear what he was saying. ‘But if I hear that you’ve even breathed near her, or that you’ve hurt anyone else, I won’t be so kind.’

Bucky threw him to the ground, ignoring the grunt of pain that left Mark’s lips as he did so. He left the man curled in on himself, looking every bit like the pathetic piece of shit he was. 

But then he turned to you, and every single part of him softened. His eyes which had been hardened with hatred, melted into pure love and concern. Your eyes were fixed on where Mark was lying on the floor. Your hands were still shaking. You’d all but stopped breathing. Bucky moved towards you slowly, careful not to spook you, ducking his head into your eyeline with the softest, most caring blue eyes you’d ever seen. His hand gently found its place on your cheek, moving your face to look him in the eye. A single tear fell down your face.

‘You’re okay, Doll. He can't hurt you now. He’s never going to hurt you ever again. But it’s about time we leave, okay? Do you think you can walk?’ 

You nodded numbly to Bucky, letting his other hand come to your face, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, before whispering, ‘I’m so, so sorry you had to see that.’ 

‘It’s okay,’ you whispered out, looking into his blue eyes, asking ‘Can we go?’

‘Of course we can, darling.’ Without another word, Bucky took your bag over his arm, wrapping the other around your still-shaking form, his hand on your lower back slowly guiding you out of the room. He kept talking to you the whole way out of the apartment. Kept whispering praise into your hair, promising you that you were safe now, telling you how well you’d done, that you never had to see that man ever again. 

You barely remembered the journey out of the building. The team stood outside, weapons drawn, just waiting for the signal from Bucky after they’d seen Mark appear. The drive back to the compound was a blur. No one said a word. But you felt Yelena’s hand softly squeeze your shoulder as she got out of the car, leaving only you and Bucky behind. You sat for a while, just staring numbly out of the front window of the car, until Bucky’s voice, thick and heavy with guilt, broke through the fog in your mind.

‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that. If you want to stay with Yelena, or Ava, or get a hotel, if you need some time away from me, I get it.’

Your head snapped up to face Bucky in shock, a frown pulling at your eyebrows.

‘Bucky, you saved me. If you hadn’t been there, he- I…’ you trailed off, not wanting to admit just how badly it could have gone. You would have been bleeding for sure. You probably would have been dead. Bucky Barnes had just saved your life, and he was beating himself up over it. 

Slowly, your hand found his, perched on the gear stick, clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. They softened under your touch as you squeezed his hand, telling him, ‘There is no one, James, no one, that I feel safer with than you.’ He turned to look at you, surprise colouring his own expression, only to be met with complete honesty in yours. You squeezed his hand again. ‘Let’s go inside, yeah?’ 

‘Yeah, Doll, let’s.’

As you and Bucky entered the common room, your breath was taken away. Everyone else had thrown on sweats, made a mountain of blankets, put soft lighting on, and fired up the TV. Popcorn was being thrown by Sam at John while he made some stupid joke. Yelena walked over and handed you a glass of wine. Ava called you over to pick a movie. Alexi was getting comfy on a beanbag while Bob brought through chocolate and sweets. 

Everyone was there. A small, silent part of you had dreaded the idea of your first night alone. But Sam had listened to the small thing you asked for. And here it was. A film night. Everyone, buried under soft fabrics and lit by the glow of a TV screen, together. No room for panic or noise in your head. Only comfort and safety. Bucky stepped to face you, offering you his hand. He whispered quietly to you, ‘only if you want to.’ Letting you know you had a choice. That if you needed to run and hide, you could. 

But you didn’t want to. Your days of hiding in misery, sorrow and pain were done. You had a family now, one that was welcoming you back with open arms. You were safe. You were loved. You were seen for all of the small things that made you whole, that made you happy. And your family, Bucky was there to give you it all. 

You slipped your hand into his, smiling up at him as he led you to a spot on the sofa, reserved for the pair of you. He wrapped you in a blanket, passed to popcorn and snacks, and held you tight against his side. His fingers carded through your hair, careful of the now nearly faded bruise in your hairline. 

The film in front of you was playing, everyone else enraptured, when you realised Bucky wasn’t looking at the screen, but at you. You turned to him, whispering a ‘thank you’ that held so much in it. You rested your head on his shoulder as you carried on watching. 

‘Always, Doll. I got you always. For everything. The big things and the small things. I got you.’ 

taglist: @happygalaxymilkshake @honeywithemoney @siorcguardian @energerstar @sinistersnakey @avatarofthetimelords Legends i cannot tell me how much it means that you enjoyed part 1 enough to be tagged for p2 !! Sending you all so so much love

[figtreesandmoonlight]

The Small Things

Bucky x reader one-shot 

Summary: You kept the small things to yourself. But when those small things were bruises and pain left on your body by your boyfriend, they were never going to stay with you forever. During a lab visit, Bucky finally realises why the reader pulled away from him, and swears to keep her safe forever. - PART 2 Here x

TWs: Domestic abuse, detailed descriptions of bruises, injuries, and pain, verbal insults and controlling behavior, themes of isolation and manipulation

Everything was fine. Everything would keep being fine as long as no one asked any questions. Because if anyone asked you a question, something was going to break open inside you so wide, so broken, that you could never force close it again. So, coffee in hand, makeup checked and double checked, laptop in bag and shoulders squared, you walked into the compound. 

You smiled and waved at Gary, calling out a soft ‘heya’ to the security guard who sat at the front desk daily, diligently checking everyone coming in and out of the labs. When you could, you remembered to bring him a coffee: for such a giant of a man, he loved an extra-sweet latte. He kept you all safe, or as safe as he could, and you thought he probably didn’t get enough recognition for it. He was as part of the brickwork of the place as much as any avenger or director alike. He kept the place going, and it was important to you to recognise every turning cog of a machine. 

It was the small things that mattered. They could make someone’s day. They could blow your life wide open in a way that made it hard for you to sleep at night. Focus on the little things. Sleeves pulled down, top button done up. Hair down to cover the bruise, just skimming past the edge of your hairline. He usually paid more attention when he hit you. It was usually easier to hide. 

Never mind; you’d just have to work a bit harder at hiding it until it faded. 

You passed a few fellow scientists on your way through to your lab. Dr Sophie Rosen, who was working on improving the space tech Stark Tech had started and got bored of, caught up with you, and you made your way through the winding corridors together, catching up after the weekend. You were meant to meet her for drinks on Saturday night - a group from the lab had agreed to meet up. But Mark had made it clear you wouldn’t be going when he’d thrown you to the floor and slammed the door to your shared bedroom in your face, locking it behind him. He’d left a boot print on your back, bruises on your wrists, and a ringing in your head.

‘Anyway, I’m jabbering on. I wasn’t sure to expect you in today’ Sophie’s comment pulled you back into reality as you turned to look at her, confused. She looked back at you, an equally confused smile pulling at her lips, ‘your cold? Gone now?’ Oh. God, you were slow today. You’d told her you were sick to get out of drinks. 

You brushed it off with a laugh, ‘Oh yeah, must have been one of those 48-hour things! All good now.’ The words rushed out of your mouth slightly too quickly, and slightly too dismissively, but Sophie didn’t clock it. Instead, she knocked into you gently, whispering in mock conspiracy, ‘Mark better have looked after you or I’ll send him up to space next instead of a test dummy.’ 

You laughed her comment off, the same way you did every time someone at work brought Mark up. Smile. Laugh. Brighten your eyes. Keep the small things hidden. Don’t think about the friends you’ve lost. The nights alone. The nights in agony. 

You made up some story about ‘soup or something’ before being internally flooded with relief as your lab’s door came into view. You sped up slightly, rushing to get away from a conversation you didn’t know how long you could lie through. You told Sophie that you were close to a breakthrough and that you were gonna ‘crack on’. You hoped she took the startled gasp of pain you let out as she pulled you into a hug as one of surprise. She didn’t need to know your ribs were pulsing in sharp pain at the contact.  

As the doors to your lab let off the gentle hiss that told you they were closing, you walked to your workbench, gingerly, letting the pull of your aching body envelop you for a second. You all but fell into your chair. Shut off inside your lab, you let yourself have a second to think of what happened on Saturday. A few seconds to process before getting on. 

Mark had come in from his shift in a shit mood. You should’ve known better than texting him to say you were going out that night. Should have asked permission. Should have had his lunch ready when he came in. Should have woken up early to clean the apartment.

 But you were tired. You were so tired, and you had been for a while. So, in the safety of an empty apartment, you’d let yourself rest, let the warm sunlight lull you into a false sense of security as you dozed. 

But suddenly it was midday and the door slammed open. Suddenly, he was in the bedroom. Suddenly, he was on top of you. Suddenly, you hurt. Different parts of your body screaming at you in pain while he spat abuse down onto you. You’d tried to curl in on yourself. Begged him to stop, tears streaming down your face. It didn’t make a difference.  

The slight sting of the cold metal workspace in front of you pulled you back to the lab as your forearms rested on it, your head cradled in your hands. You’d loved him. He’d loved you. He still did. Or at least, he told you he did. What was worse, you knew a part of you still loved him. It hurt to stay, but what if it hurt worse to leave? How could you even leave now? Where would you start?

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

In. Out.

You pushed the thoughts from your mind as you picked up an AJ and your souldering iron and got to work. What better distraction could there be than finishing your upgrades to the arm in front of you? 

About five years ago, you’d finished your degree and stepped into the world of the Avengers. Or, more accurately, you’d been brought in. The tech you’d made for one of your final projects had caught the eye of Fury; the next thing you knew, you were sat in SHIELD HQ being given some equipment and designs, and told to ‘have fun’. By the end of the day, you’d signed a contract. 

Like every other SHIELD agent, you’d had to complete basic training to become a fully qualified agent, basic self-defence, weaponry and combat. It was how you’d met Tasha. She was training your group one day, and while you were sparring, she used a Widow Bite on you. Once you’d recovered, you’d asked her if you could hold on to it. When you brought it back a week later with five improvements and a more compact design, she got you relocated to the compound. 

You missed her fiercely. She’d been like a big sister to you, so when you’d come back from the blip to find her and Tony gone, something in you withered. Back then? They would’ve noticed the small things. They all would have. Nat, Tony, Steve, Sam…Bucky. They would’ve seen the way the fire in your eyes had turned to smoke. They would’ve seen the long sleeves in summer, the high necks. The black eyes hidden under bad makeup. 

They would’ve gotten you away from Mark before you even realised what he was doing was wrong. But most of them were gone now. Mark had pulled you away from the rest. And you were trapped with him. Someone with basic fucking shield training couldn’t even defend herself. Pathetic. 

So, you kept your distance from the rest of the team that came back from the blip. You clocked in. You clocked out. You did good work, and you went home. You pulled away from everyone. No more training days. No Avenger and Co get aways. No film nights. 

You smiled softly at the project in front of you, the upgraded arm for Bucky. You remembered how he’d told you late one night that the weight of the metal pulled at his shoulder uncomfortably. A small thing, he’d said, barely mentioned in passing, but something that you’d remembered. And one that you’d, hopefully, just fixed. A gesture. A way to remind him you were still there. To keep him in your life when Mark had cut him out of every other part. You pulled up a holo-screen, sending Bucky a quick message: Upgrade’s ready when you are! :)

You knew he’d come pretty quickly; he always did when you called, but you kept yourself busy anyway. Less time to think that way. Yelena had said something about her batons feeling ‘clunky’ - you could help fix that. The problem was, you got a bit carried away. So carried away, with your ear defenders on and angle grinder going, that you didn’t hear Bucky come in. Didn’t notice him until a hand landed on your shoulder. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching, no matter how much you wished you had. You shrank into yourself, expecting a blow that, of course, would never come. You turned around as fast as the disk on the grinder spun, to find Bucky, stepped slightly back, wide-eyed and hands held up as if he was looking at a startled deer, not a woman with a tool that could be lethal. Your finger left the trigger, your heart hammering in your chest at a thousand beats a minute as adrenaline burned through your body and every muscle clenched out of fearful memory. ‘Fuck’ you breathed out, panic coursing through you. The second the tool spun down, you placed it on the counter, yanking off your gloves and ear defenders; ‘Oh my god, Bucky I am so so sorry! I didn’t hear you come in.’ 

Bucky hadn’t stepped any closer. His hands were still up, but his brow had furrowed slightly, his eyes flickering up and down your body, before catching on the purple, hand-shaped bruise, encasing your wrist where you’d just pulled your glove off. Your eyes followed his own. 

You couldn’t help but gasp a little as you saw it, turning away from him and immediately pulling your sleeve back down. No. No no no no no. Not now. He couldn’t see now. Not after everything. Not after you’d survived so long like this. Bucky’s voice came slightly gruff from across the room as he tried to force some lightness into his tone, ’It’s okay Doll - you alright? Thought you were gonna get me for a sec there.’ 

Your heart was still running at a million miles an hour, but you let out a slightly breathless laugh as you turned back around to him. There was something sad in his eyes. It was only small. Barely noticeable. But you liked the small things. You saw the small things. The way his frown crinkled the skin between his eyebrows, how his eyes seemed to get darker when he was upset. And Bucky was sad. Sad, and maybe angry. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t push. He kept a false, gentle smile going your way. Kept his voice soft and his tone light. He was trying to make  sure he didn’t spook you.

‘Nah, gramps. I think it’d take more than me and an angle grinder to take you down,’ you laugh out, picking Bucky’s new arm up and crossing the lab space towards him. 

‘I don’t know. I reckon you got some rage hidden in there.’ 

‘Hah, if you say so, old man.’ You were standing just across from him now. ‘You okay if I attach it the first time?’ Bucky nodded at you, ‘Sure thing, genius,’ you could feel his eyes flickering over your form again, searching for something as the hem of your t-shirt rose up without you realising, Bucky’s eyes immediately honing in on another bruise. But he didn’t say anything. He added it to the mental catalogue. He’d taken your disapperance the hardest, never knowing why. Except now, now he was finding out, and he hated the answer. ‘Remind me what upgrade this one is?’ You’d just finished attaching the new arm as he asked, so instead of replying, you told him to ‘give it a go, soldier, you tell me.’ 

Bucky quirked his eyebrows at you, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips, as if saying if you say so. You weren’t talking. Either you didn’t realise he’d blocked a bruise on your wrist that was filling him with rage, or you were hiding it. So he played along. He curled his fingers into a fist before swinging the arm in a full circle, the machinery now barely making a sound at the action. A surprised look came onto Bucky’s face as he brought his arm up backwards and slowly moved his arm in a back-and-forth motion a few times. ‘It’s not pulling,’ Bucky almost whispered in disbelief, before locking eyes with you, his features softening in gratitude, ‘you remembered.’ You smiled and nodded your head slightly, ‘you said it was hurting, I wanted to stop it.’ 

Before you knew it, Bucky had closed the distance between you, pulling you into the gentlest hug, but you couldn’t help but flinch again. Bucky felt every single muscle in your body tense, but he held you close, not letting you, but pulling you closer, letting your body realise it was safe, letting it relax into the hug. The contact put pressure on your ribs. It was worth it. Above you, Bucky simply whispered a ‘thank you,’ into your hair. 

The pair of you stayed like that for a while, bodies pressed against each other, pulling comfort from the other. It was nice.

You’d been so close once. Bucky was your person. Your best friend. Your safe place. You were one of the first people he was introduced to. The pair of you had bonded over 40’s music and good food. Movie nights happened weekly, and you’d stayed over in his room more than once after falling asleep mid-movie. Bucky always took the couch when you did. But Mark started making comments about the men you always seemed to hang out with. Then the comments turned into punishments. So you’d pulled away from the team. From Bucky. 

But you missed them. Missed him. Missed his messy hair in the mornings and the way his hoodies smelt of home. Missed how you felt safe with him. Eventually, you pulled away from each other. 

‘What are you doing tonight, Doll? We’re gonna have a movie night if you want to join us?’ Your heart broke a little knowing you had to say no. Everything in you wanted to say yes, to hide away with the team and never come back. But you couldn’t. Not with how Mark had been recently. Staying would only mean more bruises. More pain. You couldn’t cope with it.

‘I’d love to Bucky, but I can’t, Mark wants me home tonight.’ You didn’t miss how Bucky’s jaw clenched at Mark’s name.

‘But what do you want?’

You tried to laugh it off, ‘Come on Buck, it’s a Monday night.’ 

You tried to pull away. Bucky wasn’t having it. He fixed his gaze on you, immovable and hard. Before you knew what was happening, Bucky had your wrists gently held in his, pulling you over to the couch that sat in the corner of your lab. He sat you down before letting go of your hands and kneeling in front of you. You couldn’t look at him. His hand came up to your cheek, softly guiding your face so that you were looking him in his steel blue eyes. 

‘I miss you.’ 

He said it so simply, so matter-of-fact. It hit you in the gut like a bullet. You were frozen in time. Your brain was running at a million miles an hour, but you couldn’t make sense of any of it. You drew in a sharp breath as Bucky’s hands gently closed around your right wrist, and his voice, soft as sunrise, said ‘I miss you. And you’ve been pulling away from us. And now, I think I know why.’ He turned your palm upwards, cradling it in his hand, before shifting to sit next to you on the couch. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything about the rising panic storming inside you. About the fear. The shame. The embarrassment. You couldn’t move when Bucky’s hands slowly pulled your sleeve up, revealing those small things you’d worked so hard to hide. 

Ugly, purple and black bruises, fading green ones with a sickly colour, and scars. 

‘I’m going to kill him.’ 

Bucky’s eyes, filled with anguish, took in the bruises, cuts and burns as he drew in a shaky, stuttering breath, his thumb gingerly tracing over the marks. He didn’t yell it. Didn’t shout. Didn’t rage. He said it like it was a fact. 

You’d been hurt. He was going to make sure it didn’t happen again.

You were crying. From nothing but the sheer gentleness that Bucky held you with. You hadn’t been touched, held, gently, like something precious, for so long. From the fact that he looked so sad that someone would ever hurt you. A stray tear turned into two, into a litany of sobs that were racking your body. 

At some point, Bucky simply curled his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. He held you close, held you tight, a promise that he wasn’t going to let go. A dam had opened, and water was flooding through. All the misery. All the sorrow and hurt of the last year, hitting you at once.

 Finally, you let it break you. You stayed in Bucky’s arms, protected from the rest of the world so long as he held you. And through each wave, each sob, each cry, he whispered comfort to you. Promises that ‘I got you now’, encouraging you to ‘let it out’, swearing that ‘you’re safe.’ 

Eventually, your cries wore out. You weren’t done crying. You weren’t gonna be for a long time. But for now, you’d tired yourself out. You pulled away from Bucky. He wouldn’t push. You knew he wouldn’t. But there was no going back now. Something in you had finally admitted the nightmare that your life had become, and you needed to tell him. Voice wobbling, breath shaking, you started talking. 

‘He didn’t used to-’ you paused, swallowing, steeling yourself as you looked into Buckys eyes and saw no judgement, only comfort and sorrow, ‘He didn’t use to hit me. I swear he didn’t. It started last year, when he got his new job after the Blip. Money was tight, and things were tense. We’d been arguing, and I said I was gonna stay the night here. It-‘ you broke off, looking away from Bucky. ‘It was the first time he hit me. Said the only reason you guys liked me was because you were probably passing me around like some fuck toy. It started that night and-‘ You could hear the groan of Bucky’s arm as his fist clenched, ‘and he hasn’t really stopped since.’

‘I wanted to come to you. I swear I did. But we’d just lost Nat and Tony and I…’ You looked away from Bucky, blush colouring your cheeks in shame, ‘I didn’t know how. It all happened so quickly, I couldn’t get out, couldn’t admit what he’d done. I’m sorry’ 

‘Dont,’ Bucky’s voice broke in, hoarse, sad and deadly, ‘don’t ever apologise for what he’s done to you. Don’t you ever feel embarrassed about this. We should have seen that something was wrong. I should have.’ Suddenly, Bucky was kneeling in front of you again, looing up at you like it was a prayer, ‘I am so, so sorry I wasn’t there before. But I am now. Please let me help you, Doll.’ 

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t say it. The pressure in your throat was too much to battle against. But you nodded. It was timid. It was scared. But it was there. He’d offered to help. You’d accepted.

He knelt up in front of you, pulling your body into another gentle hug. ‘I got ya. I’m gonna look after you now. I promise.’ He stood gently, helping you stand on shaky legs and wrapping you into his side. 

As you stepped out of the lab, you could feel eyes on you, your colleagues, on their lunch breaks, chatting, watching you be all but carried by Bucky Barnes into the personal quarters of the compound. But above you, Bucky was on high alert. Someone’s eyes locked onto you? He stared them down in seconds, making sure that not only would they look away, they’d never mention it ever again. He would protect you. Not only from Mark. From everyone. From the rumours. From the whispers. From the world. 

Before you knew it, you were sitting on Bucky’s bed. Gentle hands passed you a pair of joggers and one of his hoodies. You and Bucky were moving in a peaceful silence until you pulled your top off. The low growl that left Bucky’s chest was unmistakable as he took in the extent of the damage Mark had done. You locked eyes with his, which were full of apology and anger. He whispered out a sorrowful ‘I am so sorry.’ You didn’t need to reply.  

Without saying anything, he grabbed a balm off his bedside table and lowered himself onto the bed next to you. ‘Can I put this on you? It’s just a balm, helps bruises heal quicker.’ You gave a gentle nod of your head, and Bucky got some of the balm out onto his metal hand, warming it up with his human one. He kept all of his movements in your eyeline, quietly promising not to touch you without your consent, not to surprise you, and promising that you were in control. 

Warm hands started to work the balm over the bruise on your back while Bucky’s frown deepened. ‘It’s not your fault Buck,’ you whispered out. Bucky barely grunted at you in response, so you turned to look at him, moving your back out of reach and catching his hands in yours before he could carry on. ‘Bucky, look at me,’ he did. ‘This is not your fault.’ He just clenched his jaw and shook his head. ‘I should have noticed.’ A stray tear fell from his eyes. ‘I made sure you didn’t, Buck. This is no one’s fault but Mark’s. Promise me you know that?’ It was Bucky’s turn to nod in reply, but it was enough for you to turn back around and let him keep applying the balm. 

When he’d finished your back, he moved on to your arms, placing a kiss on each wrist when he’d finished. You stood up, quickly changing into Bucky’s sweats while he was turned around, before sitting down on the bed again, the smell of Bucky’s clothes immediately making you feel safer. 

In the smallest voice he’d ever heard, you whispered out, ’What do I do now, Bucky?’

‘Tonight you rest.’

‘And tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow we get you out of there for good.’

AN: Hello dearies. The mental health is not healthing right now, so I can't promise when the next part will be, however, THERE WILL BE A PART TWO, confrontation with Mark will occur, Bucky will be protective as fuck - so do let me know if you'd like to be tagged in it! Thanks as ever for reading x

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Fucking Hazelnuts

Bucky x reader one-shot 

Fluff, hurt/comfort 

Summary: It was supposed to be the perfect birthday date—red dress, roses, soft music, and Bucky Barnes looking at you like you hung the stars. But when one bite of dessert turns into a deadly situation, the evening spirals into chaos. In the haze of fear and adrenaline, it’s Bucky who grounds you—steady hands, unwavering eyes, and whispered reassurances. As you cling to each other through the ER visit and quiet tears, you’re reminded that love isn’t just grand gestures—it’s knowing someone will always show up.

AN: I know it’s a bit of a niche fic, but as someone sent to A&E twice this year with allergies, I wish I’d had a Bucky to come with me !

You looked in the mirror, hands smoothing the burnt red fabric of your dress over your hips one final time. You smiled, a giddy ball of excitement building in you as you turned from the mirror. The soft corner lamp of your and Bucky’s bedroom cast everything in a warm glow as you finished getting ready for your evening together. The soft sounds of music outside your room had been flowing through the door since you’d left Bucky to get ready. You grabbed your purse from the bed, a white clutch full of the essentials: lip gloss, phone, keys, card, and emergency bag. If there was one thing dating Bucky Barnes had taught you, it was that, with that man, anything could happen. 

So, you’d taken to carrying a little bag everywhere, holding plasters, butterfly stitches, paracetamol and ibuprofen, antihistamine, mints, and your EpiPen, a spare lip balm. Anything you could think of, really. Your meds lived in there along with the stuff you always kept for Bucky. It was mostly out of convenience; you needed to take your meds every day and bring your epi-pen everywhere, and you always wanted to have whatever Bucky would need on you. Just in case. Bucky had a crazy enough life as it was, and if you carrying a few extra things could help him? You were more than happy to do it. 

You slung the white bag over your shoulder as you sat down on the bed, doing up the buckles on your matching white heels. Nothing too high to make sure that if your goofy Labrador of a boyfriend decided you guys were gonna go for a walk in the park or a random run in the rain, you still could. You stood up, one last time checking your reflection in the mirror. ‘You ready, Barnes?’ You called out, excited to step out with your beautiful man. 

‘For you, doll?’ his sultry voice responded from the hallway, ‘Always.’

‘It’s your lucky day then, soldier,’ you called back, moving to the door and pulling it open, ‘I’m not even gonna make you wait tonight.’ Bucky was standing, black suit, white shirt, arm hanging off the top of the door frame. His eyes widened, his pupils blown, as he exhaled in a gentle gasp, something somewhere between adoration and lust. His eyes scanned your form up and down like you were an object in a holy temple, something to be worshipped. 

‘My god, baby,’ his low voice growled out, ‘you’re gonna kill me looking like that.’ He stepped forward, closing the gap between your bodies. One hand snaked around your waist, while the other settled under your chin, gently lifting your face up to his as he kissed you, hot, slightly desperate. 

You melted into the kiss, a soft moan pulling its way from your lips. After a second, you pulled back from him. ‘Come on, Barnes,’ you laughed, stepping away from him and looking back over your shoulder at him, ‘we’ve got a date to make, don’t we?’

‘I will cancel this very second,’ he replied, no hint of a joke in his voice. 

‘Uh-uh, birthday boy,’ you shook your head, ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all day. If you’re good,’ you said, smirking at the sight of your slightly dazed boyfriend behind you, lips swollen and eyes locked on you, ‘you can have something sweeter than dessert when we get home.’

Bucky was at your side in an instant, hand slipping where it belonged against your lower back, like you and he were an extension of each other. ‘Seriously,’ he said, as he guided you into the kitchen, ‘you look incredible.’ 

‘So do you, baby,’ you replied, gasping softly as he suddenly broke away from you to pick up the dozen red roses he’d left sitting on the counter. ‘Bucky,’ you whispered out, looking up at him with a warm smile pulling at your face, ‘I thought it was supposed to be your special day’. 

‘Nothing more special to me than you.’ He said it so simply, like it was obvious, like you should have known already. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before placing the flowers in some water, and letting him walk you out the door. Bucky opened your car door before you had a chance to even think about reaching to open it, giving you a hand in, and setting the heating to the temperature you liked best. 

The ride to the restaurant was one spent in quiet, comfortable conversation. Bucky talked to you about old birthdays he’d had back in the 40s, smiling with a distant fondness as he talked about Becca trying and failing to make him breakfast the year his Ma was sick, or when they all went to Coney Island for his 15th birthday, Steve in tow. Before you knew it, you were sitting in a slightly separate corner of the candlelit restaurant you and Bucky had been to for your first date, and every major event since. 

Mains came and went quickly as you and Bucky spoke softly over glasses of red wine. You told him about the new job you were interviewing for, and he thought his heart might burst with pride as you spoke animatedly and with so much passion. Bucky told you about the time he’d kidnapped Sam’s little drone, Redwing, and tried to sabotage it, before finding it spraying pepper spray and glitter all over him. Sam called it the ‘defence protocols’, but Bucky was sure he’d set it up just for him.

You were so enraptured with Bucky that you didn’t think twice as your desserts were brought out. The warmth flooding through your veins, your full heart, and blissful state of being with the man you loved took everything else away. 

You took a bite. You froze. All the warmth, all the happiness in you was suddenly replaced with ice-cold panic seconds after you swallowed a mouthful of rich chocolate poison. 

Your fork clattered against your plate. You didn’t remember dropping it. Your ears were ringing, and your eyes stopped registering the sights in front of you. 

‘Fuck, Bucky, I -’

He was already kneeling in front of your chair, his warm hands on your arms and eyes flickering over you, trying to figure out what was wrong with a desperate intensity, while a fiery itching sensation blazed in the back of your mouth and your throat began to swell. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes, not so much from fear as sheer panic. You were having an allergic reaction. 

Your body moved on autopilot before you could think about what you were doing. You stood up, chair scraping backwards as your feet took you out the front door of the restaurant in a blind movement. Your back connected with the brick wall next to the door, and you slid down it, your body basically crumbling and folding in half. 

Panicked commotion was happening all around you, but the second Bucky crouched down in front of you, looking more scared than you’d ever seen him before, you focused on him. Your breaths were raspy, and a dull headache was forming. His hands came up to cradle your face, wild panic in his eyes. 

‘Baby, can you hear me?’ You nodded. ‘Okay, good, that’s so good baby. You’re having an allergic reaction. I need to use your epi-pen on you, alright? It might sting a bit, but I promise it’s gonna make you feel better.’ You nodded your head again, hair falling in your face now and sticking to the wet track marks running down your face. Bucky moved with the kind of quick efficiency that gave him away as a supersoldier. He said something about water over his shoulder to one of the waiters who’d followed you outside, never once taking his eyes off yours. 

Despite the now stinging itchiness and swelling in your throat and your bubbling lips, you felt calmer knowing Bucky knew what was happening. Bucky shook his jacket off while his gentle but quick hands pulled your dress up to expose your thigh. His jacket came to rest over your legs. He took the pen out of its case, before pulling the blue cap off, placing a quick kiss to your forehead and whispering ‘I’m sorry baby’ into your hair, before stabbing the pen into your leg. 

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sting, but the effects of the adrenaline worked quickly, pulling you out of the haze you’d entered, and back into the world around you. You could hear Bucky, counting above you under his breath the ten seconds he needed to hold the injector to your thigh for. Tension you hadn’t known was in your shoulders dropped as your head fell back against the brick in quiet relief. At once you could feel the itching and swelling that was raging like a storm in your throat and mouth calm begin to subside. 

Bucky finished counting, placing another scared kiss to your forehead before gingerly pulling the injector away, frowning at the line of blood that ran in a single line down your thigh from the tiny puncture wound in your leg. Your hands started shaking as a new kind of sensation began to roll through your body. You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, and a dizziness pulling at your mind. Someone you didn’t recognise tried to press a glass of water into your shaking hand, but before you could even open your mouth to say something, Bucky’s warm hand enclosed yours. 

You looked up at him, your own panic now feeling more like a memory of the past as you saw just how scared he still looked. Wet tracks glistened on his cheeks, betraying the fact that he had been crying. You brought a shaky hand up to his face, cradling his jaw, as you whispered out, your scratchy voice now hoarse, ‘’m okay Buck, promise.’ 

He stopped at the sound of your voice, it stilling something in him that had been running wild since the second he’d realised what was going on. You shifted slightly, hand pulling on his wrist to get him to sit next to you. The chaos around you had now stilled a little. Someone told you an ambulance was on its way. You just nodded as Bucky started to stroke your hair. You curled up into his side, the after effects of the adrenaline, the shakiness, the nausea, now settling in. 

‘Need you to have some of this,’ Bucky gently said, not wanting to ask too much from you in that moment, slowly raising the glass of water to your lips, ‘don’t swallow. You need to rinse out any nuts that might be in your teeth.’ You hummed in agreement, knowing you needed to do it too. While spitting out the water onto the pavement next to you may not have been your most elegant moment, it was necessary. People were trying to talk to you, to apologise and ask if you needed anything, but the last thing you wanted to do was reply. 

You shuffled closer into Bucky’s side, the movement almost imperceptible to anyone else as your arms tightened around him. But Bucky knew, he always knew, exactly what you needed. ‘Could you just give us a moment please?’ He asked firmly, not unkind, but leaving no room for argument. The staff from the restaurant quickly scampered back inside. 

Sat on the concrete, with your head resting on Bucky’s shoulder, you whispered, ‘I’m so sorry, James.’ Bucky turned to look down at you, a soft, sad smile on his lips. ‘You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, doll. None of this is your fault.’ You shuffled to sit up, pulling his jacket over your now curled-up body, ‘but your birthday-’ Bucky cut you off. ‘I don’t give two shits about my birthday. All I need is you to be okay.’ You smiled up at him, a soft, fleeting thing, as you promised ‘I am. I promise. You saved me, Barnes.’ 

‘I always will,’ he replied immediately. Automatically. He didn’t even need to think about it anymore. It was a vow. A promise he’d made to himself years ago. He would be there for you, always. Wherever. Whenever. ‘Let’s just not do this again next year, yeah?’ 

You laughed a little, but before you could say anything else, an ambulance pulled up in front of the restaurant and two paramedics jumped out of the van, making a beeline for the pair of you. A paramedic crouched down in front of you, a kind smile and calm air of confidence helping you feel safer. She asked you a couple of questions about what had happened, asked when the epi-pen was administered - which Bucky immediately answered with military precision - and the symptoms you were experiencing. Bucky held you close as you answered, his warm hand running up and down your back in comfort and support. He grimaced when you showed them the injection site - you could see the guilt in his eyes. 

The paramedics told you that the protocol after the use of an epi-pen was observation for a few hours in case of a secondary reaction. ‘Do I have to? I feel okay enough now, I just wanna go home and sleep.’ You made the mistake of looking at Bucky as you were speaking, immediately knowing you had no chance of him agreeing when you saw his outraged expression. ‘You’re going to the hospital.’ He said. No room for argument. You knew better than when Bucky looked like that. The other paramedic offered you her hand to help you up and into the rig, but before you could reach out of your cocoon of Bucky-based comfort, your boyfriend had scooped you into his arms. Despite feeling as grim as you did, you couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped you as you saw his protectiveness shine through layers of concern. 

He set you down softly onto the seat in the ambulance, strapping your seatbelt across you as he sat next to you, his hand clamped around yours the whole ride, drawing unconscious circles against your hand. You couldn’t tell if he even knew who he was trying to comfort. The nausea was getting worse as the effects of the epi-pen wore off, and exhaustion kept pulling at your eyelids. ‘Just stay awake a little bit longer for me doll,’ came Bucky’s voice next to you, his hand now cradling your face, gently stroking at your cheek. You nodded into his hand, resting your head on him and existing somewhere between consciousness and sleep for the drive. You were alert enough to answer the remaining questions from the paramedics and to move your arm and hand as they needed to take your blood pressure and oxygen levels, but mostly, you just wanted to curl up into Bucky and never move again. 

You were pulled from your drowsiness as the ambulance pulled into a bay at the hospital. Once again, before you could move, Bucky had shifted you into your arms, lifting you up like you were weightless, and holding you close to his chest. He sat you down in the chair he was directed to, keeping a constant point of contact with you the whole time, as though he was afraid you’d disappear if he let you go. Once again, you moved to lean on Bucky as he wrapped an arm around you, murmuring out ‘M so tired,’ as he held you. He pressed a kiss into your hair, gently telling you ‘it’s okay baby. You sleep, I’ll wake you up if they need you.’ You barely even responded before you were out like a light. You spent the next five hours dipping in and out of sleep as and when the nurses came to check on you. 

It was 5am before a nurse came to you for a final check-up. She gave you a handful of steroids alongside a new epipen, before letting you know that, finally, you’d been discharged. You thanked her for all her help, the side effects now completely gone, and you feeling simply exhausted. You signed the papers, before Bucky pulled you into his side as you walked out of the fluorescent white building and noisy waiting froom together. 

The cab ride back to your apartment was almost silent, but as it pulled up, Bucky had paid and was out the door before you could react. He pulled open your door and gathered you in his arms. 

‘I can walk Barnes. It was an allergic reaction, not a concussion.’ 

‘Shh,’ he hushed above you, the noise vibrating through his chest as he did so, carring you up the stairs and into your bedroom. He deposited you onto your bed, helping you pull off your dress and shoes before walking over to his side of the bed, slipping into it, and pulling you over to him, so you were resting against his chest, one arm slung over his waist as you cuddled into him. The pair of you stayed like that for a while, before eventually, you whispered out in the smallest voice, ‘that was really scary.’ 

Bucky didn’t rush to respond, but let the words settle in the air around you. The truth was, you’d both been terrified. ‘Yeah, doll, yeah it was,’ Bucky spoke softly above you. That was the first time you’d ever had to use your epi-pen, and you never wanted to have to do it again. ‘But you’re okay. I got you. I always got you.’ You looked up at him, ‘How’d you know to do that?’ You asked. ‘Do what?’ He replied. ‘My epi-pen - I never told you.’ Bucky hummed, the sound rumbling through the both of you. ‘I looked it up. Right after our first date when you said you had a nut allergy. Wanted to make sure I could help you if anything ever went wrong.’

For some reason, Bucky saying that stirred something deep inside you. Never, in your life, had any other partner cared enough to know. You were always casual about the whole thing anyway, never having had a reaction before. But Bucky had listened, had cared enough to look it up himself. A stray tear fell down your face as you whispered out a slightly broken ‘thank you.’ Bucky didn’t say anything, but pressed another kiss to your hair, arms tightening around you slightly. 

‘You should sleep doll, you’re exhausted. I’m not going anywhere. Called out for the rest of the day. Rest, I’ll be right here.’ You hummed in agreement, nodding into his chest as you let the feeling of tiredness finally consume you. You fell, almost instantly, into a deep sleep, feeling safe and loved in Bucky’s arms. 

Bucky didn’t sleep that night, the aftershocks of his panic still racing through him. Instead, he kept you in his arms, watching each slow rise and fall of your breath like it was a promise, a vow that you were still okay. He sat up all night, memorising the shape of your face as you slept, counting your breaths, just feeling whole as he held you. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

One Singular Sensation

Bucky x reader oneshot - fluff

AN: I wrote this in honour of the A Chorus Line anniversary so am totally exposing myself as a theatre kid here…

Summary: You’re an actor, and tonight is the night you make your Broadway debut. Except Bucky’s called away on a mission at the last minute, and as much as it breaks his heart, he has to miss your debut. Or does he? 

The golden glow of the dressing room mirror sent a warmth right through you into your heart as waves of heat rolled off of them. Somehow, in all the years of theatre history, someone had yet to install dressing room table lights that weren’t miniature suns. But secretly? You loved it. Stepping into the dressing room, the sounds of lips trills and scales being sung. The slightly choking scent of spray on deodorant and the chemical burn of different perfumes merging together. Sides of scripts, original cast recordings, sequins and shine. It was your home. It was your happy place. It made you feel alive. 

You said hi to the other girls sharing your room as you headed to the far side of the room, to your spot. Your little home in the theatre. You dropped your bag next to your seat, pulling your hair out of the ponytail it was in, and took a second to just ground yourself in the moment. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your body buzzing with excitement and fear. Tonight is the night. You make your Broadway debut today. 

Over two decades of training. Three years of intense drama school training, where you got stripped down and rebuilt every day. Hundreds of lines learnt. And so many self-tapes. So many cuts. So many breakdowns, almost ready to throw in the towel, to resign yourself to the thought that your dream was never going to happen. 

But then it had. One self-tape sent in, three in-person recalls, and two dance rounds later, and it was happening. You felt alive, and you hadn’t even stepped on stage yet. Hell, you hand’t even done your wig prep. You shook your head slightly, a giddy smile making its way onto your face as your eyes landed where they always did. Your photo of Bucky. 

Everyone decorated their stations differently. Some people brought good luck charms, others letters from family, photos from previous shows, fairylights and sparkles. But you didn’t need any of that. Instead, you had a photo of James. It was a candid polaroid you’d taken of him on one of your first dates. He’d told you to dress comfy and surprised you with a picnic in the park. Everything was going well until a slightly too emboldened duck decided the sandwiches should be his. Bucky had chased him. All the way into the fountain. Three seconds later, you’d snapped a photo of Bucky, dripping wet, but proudly holding up the sandwich he’d rescued. 

He couldn’t be there tonight. He’d been called into an emergency situation developing out of Austin, Texas. Naturally, you’d been upset, but you knew that the world needed Bucky more than you needed him to see your show. Your job wasn’t saving lives. His was to save the world. So as he told you, eyes full of devastation, you’d pulled him into a quick kiss, before wrapping your arms around him, letting him rest his chin on your head. ‘It’s okay,’ you’d whispered into his chest, even as your heart broke a little, ‘just promise you’ll come back to me.’ He’d pressed a kiss into your hair, whispering back ‘always.’ 

You’d broken apart as his hands came up to cradle your face. ‘You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, doll. I am so, so proud of you.’ You’d pulled him into another hug, only letting go when he was going to miss his ride. He walked backwards out the door, keeping you in his sight as he grabbed his go bag. ‘I love you so much. You’re a star. I’ll be home tomorrow and we’ll celebrate, I promise.’ 

‘I love you too Buck, now go, before Sam flies up here and kidnaps you.’ Bucky let out a huff of laughter, finally shutting the door behind him. You let out a sigh to accompany your sad smile as you watched him go. He would make it up to you. These things couldn’t be helped. So, instead of dwelling on it, you got on with your day. 

You made a lemon and ginger root tea with enough honey to be an effective placebo for your brain as you drank it slowly, looking over your track. You did an vocal warm up, stretched, marked through your most difficult routine and packed your bag to go to the theatre, but not before grabbing one of the lunches Bucky had meal prepped for you ahead of tech week. Once you’d explained to him what a tech week was, and how draining it was, he took it upon himself to make your lunches for the week, wake up before your alarm to make you breakfast, and give you a massage every night when you got in. 

You picked the last lunch and spotted a bright pink Post-it note attached to the top. In Bucky’s messy scrawl: ‘You’re one singluar sensation. Good luck babe. Love you - JBB’. Your heart swelled at the sight of it, pulling the note off the top of the container and folding it into your pocket to keep. You pulled together everything else you’d need for the day: your nebuliser, steamer, vocalzones, and tea. 

You ran back into your bedroom before heading out, sneaking into Bucky’s wardrobe and ‘borrowing’ your favourite hoodie of his. You pulled it close to your face, relishing in how it smelt just like him. He could stand to miss this one for a while, you thought, pulling it over your top. You pulled on your coat and scarf, wrapping it twice around your neck, before stepping out of the apartment, locking it behind you, and heading to work. It was perhaps the coolest moment of your life when you saw your face on a poster in the subway.

Naturally, you sent Bucky a selfie of you with yourself, with the message ‘I still can’t believe it’s happening!!!’

Bucky responded almost instantly. ‘I can, babe, you’ve worked so hard, you deserve this so much x.’

You walked to the theatre from the stop, feeling slightly giddy as you ticked your name on the cast sign-in sheet. You’d been playing the playlist you made for Bucky, filled with 40s jazz standards and the soothing voice of Ella Fitzgerald, but as you stepped into the theatre, you pulled your headphones off, glittering eyes saying hello to everyone as you walked through the theatre. Soon enough you’d swap over to your character playlist to lock in to the show, so you wanted to say hi to everyone while you were in the right mind set. 

That was how you’d ended up sat under the comforting glow of the filament lightbulbs, smiling sadly, one stray tear falling from your eye before you quickly swipe it away. You lock eyes with yourself in the mirror, drawing in a deep breath which helps to centre yourself. Sophie, the girl next to you, doesn't say anything, but she offers you a tissue, alongside a comforting hand on the shoulder and a knowing look. 

The cast knew, of course, who your boyfriend was. He’d insisted on picking you up after every rehearsal you’d had, coffee in hand and bike ready to go. He’d said he ‘didn’t like’ the area your rehearsal studio was in, but it was as safe as anywhere else in New York. Honestly, you think he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you. And you’d accepted, gladly. At one of the first socials you’d gone to with the cast, you’d given them one question each to ask, knowing otherwise the fact that your partner was a god damn avenger would have sat in the room like an elephant. 

You start to pull your hair into pincurls, when one of the stage management team call your name from the door of your dressing room. You turn your head, gasping softly at the sight of 20 absolutely beautiful red roses and mountains of lavender, stunningly put together, tied up with a bow. You were so shocked you couldn’t speak. You’d already had flowers from your family, from Bucky’s team, and your agent. There was only one person that these could be from. 

‘For the girl who hung the moon in my sky. You have worked so hard for so long, and the stars have aligned to show the world just how incredible you are. I know you will be amazing - I would wish you luck, but you don’t need it. Go show them how bright you shine. All my love, James’

You stood for a moment, completely bewildered. None of your previous partners had ever done anything than belittle your passion, telling you to get a ‘real job’, and here was James Buchanan Barnes, a literal superhero, sending you flowers, on top of the ones he bought you weekly, just to remind you how much he believed in you. Your heart swelled, and for a second, when the girls asked you who they were from, you were too choked up to answer.

You walked back to your desk, flowers in hand, as you picked up the polaroid of Bucky, placing a quick kiss to it, before setting the flowers down. You’d just been called up for vocal and physical warm up, so you stole one last glance at the photo, before heading up to stage.

The next hour seemed to move at the speed of light. Before you knew it, your wig was on, makeup set, costume zipped up, and you were about to step up for beginners. As you finished a final touch-up on your bright red lip liner, your phone buzzed and lit up, bringing another image of Bucky into your view, this time, lounging half asleep, shirtless, with Alpine sleeping on his chest. Your phone showed a text from Bucky, simply saying ‘listen to me before you go on’, followed by a voice note. You let out a little chuckle, shaking your head as your brought your phone up into the wings. You’d apologise to Andi, your SM, later. 

Stood in the wings, waiting for your cue, everything suddenly felt very real. What had been excitement quickly shifted into panic. Now was as good a time to listen to Bucky’s memo as any. With now shaking hands you brought your phone up to your ear, volume the lowest it could possibly go. 

‘Hey doll,’ your breath stuttered ever so slightly as the sound of Bucky’s voice, a wave of calm already washing over you. ‘So you’re about to go on huh? I am so god damn proud of you. But if I know you, you’re probably freaking out right now. Lets see if we can do anything about that, yeah?’ Your heart immediately settled itself down a little. ‘I want you to take some breaths with me. You’re gonna breathe with me, okay?’ You nodded even though he can’t see you. ‘Breathe in with me for four, one, two, three, four. Now hold for four, three, two, one, and out again, one, two, three, four.’ You repeat with Bucky’s voice talking you through the motions three more times. When you open your eyes again, you realise that the racing heart in your chest has calmed down, and the panic that had briefly welled up inside you dissipated. 

‘You’re gonna kill ‘em, doll. I love you.’ 

You put your phone down, heart so very full that you could barely breathe. You quickly wiped the tear that had fallen on your cheek off, feeling so loved and so very seen. With a few more deep breaths, you got your head into the game and got ready to step onto the stage in perfect time. 

The next two and a half hours went so quickly that you hardly had the chance to take it all in. Your body was burning, every part of you was lit up like it was on fire. You lost yourself in the story you were telling, and before you knew it, bows were coming. Throughout the show, you’d not let your eyes scan the crowd. You knew where Bucky’s seat was, and knew it would be empty, so you chose not to look. But now it was a little harder. 

You were so proud of yourself, so, so proud, but part of you was still slightly heartbroken Bucky wasn’t there. You were angry at the world, sure. Angry at whoever it was that chose to endanger the lives of other people badly enough that Bucky needed to be involved. But you could never be mad at Bucky himself, not for helping people.

The plush red velvet house tabs lowered from the ceiling and the bow music began to play. You ran onto stage with no hesitation, reaching to meet the other half of the ensemble. You pulled forward together, finally letting yourself look out to the audience you’d yet to acknowledge in the show. 

And all at once, a grin so wide you felt like it might split your cheeks in two and all of the air in your lungs rushed out as you couldn’t help but laugh in utter joy. Because there he was. There was James, in the seat you’d got for him, in a shirt and trousers, looking up at you like you were his entire world. He was crying more than you were, freely and with no shame. As you stepped forward to take your bow, all you could hear was Bucky, cheering for you louder than you had ever heard him in your life. He was on his feet the second you walked onto the stage. The rest of the world completely melted away. In that moment, all that existed in your world was you and Bucky. 

Just you and Bucky.

The bows continued, but all you could do was stare at the man you loved. And all he did was look right back at you. As much as you’d never thought you’d think it, all you wanted was the final curtain to come down so you could run into the arms of your man. You were snapped out of it, though, as the rest of your cast pushed you forward, making you take one final bow, and sharing in the joy and celebration of your Broadway debut. You took another bow, blush coming to your cheeks as you heard Bucky call from the crowd ‘that’s my girl!’. All you could do was look at him and blow him a kiss. The adorable idiot that he was, he pretended to catch it.

The next thing you knew, you were back in the dressing room, pulled into what felt like hundreds of hugs, as your cast presented you with a signed poster for the show, each having written a little congratulatory note in white Sharpie on the page. You have no shame in admitting you cried a little. But you didn’t let it slow you down. All you knew was that Bucky was there. Somehow, he had moved heaven and earth and he was there, and you needed to see him. 

Your dresser gushed over you as she helped you out of your wig and outfit. You pulled your pincurls out with quick precision. You threw on your sweats and Bucky’s hoodie, not caring as it smuged your lipstick as you pulled it on, and ran to the stage door. And there he was, hidden away, past the groups of fans that were waiting for the cast to come out, tucked into the corner, cap pulled low over his head. He was letting you have your moment. He was stepping back to let you shine in the light. And you loved him for it. 

But all you wanted was to be in his arms. And so you flew his way in an instant, letting him lift you off your feet as his hands found your thighs and he pulled you up around him. He pulled you into a passionate kiss, one hand trailing up your back, resting at the case of your neck, fingers tangling slightly in your hair. ‘You were incredible’ he whispered into your lips. Eventually, you broke apart for air, and you brought your hands up to cup his face. ‘How are you even here right now?’ You whispered out, disbelief and joy filling your voice. 

Bucky smiled up at you, his warm blue eyes locking onto your own. ‘When I realised the situation wasn’t as severe as the intel suggested, I called in a favour. Sam owed me one anyway.’ 

‘Well,’ you laughed out, unable to keep your happiness contained, ‘we now owe him at least fifty. I just - I can’t quite believe it.’

‘I would do anything for you, doll. Anything. As long as you keep giving me the privilege of being in your life, I will move heaven and earth to stay there.’ 

‘I love you so much Bucky.’

‘I love you more.’

Finally, with a little persuasion, he let you down, taking your bag onto his shoulder. After double checking that you didn’t want to stay to stage door with the fans, he took hold of your hand, giving you his helmet as he helped you onto his bike, parked just a block away. You’d never loved that he rode it. It worried you when he was out on it on his own. You knew it was irrational, but it did nonetheless. But whenever you, his ‘precisious cargo’ were on the bike, he rode so carefully. You pressed close to his back, arms circling his waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You were home quickly, but before your feet could even touch the floor, Bucky had swept you up into his arms, claiming that they were the new money-makers of the household, and that he couldn’t risk you damaging them. You laughed, but didn’t argue, knowing that it wasn’t a battle you were going to win. 

Bucky laid you down gently on the couch, helping work your shoes off, before going into the kitchen and making you another ginger, lemon and honey tea. He’d learnt your post show routine by now, knew what you needed to relax, to cool down. Bucky took one of your feet in his hand and began rubbing it, laughing gently to himself as he saw you melt further into the sofa at the contact. 

‘I am so, so proud of you. You know that, right, Doll? The way you came to life on that stage, I’ve never seen anything like that before. You were utterly incredible, you were breathtaking. I look at that stage and all I could see was you.’ 

You sat up, placing a hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb along it, simply saying ‘thank you.’ Hoping Bucky would understand the depth of your thanks, not just for coming, but for supporting you through everything. And he did. Of course he did. He would never stop feeling guilty for even momentarily thinking about missing your opening night. But he loved you. He loved you more than life itself. And he would always be there, always find a way, for you. Always you. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

Why didn’t you tell me?

Bucky x reader one shot.

Summary: You get hurt on a mission, but being new to the team and having been trained in the red room, you don’t know that you’re allowed to show pain. So, you hide the injury. But Bucky notices, he always notices. And as you sleep on the jet, he tries to help you. 

The compound around you looked deserted. ‘Second floor’s clear,’ you said into your com, turning 160 degrees to double check the pathway you had just cleared. ‘Copy that,’ Bucky’s voice crackled through the coms, ‘make your way to the next floor up and join Ava’s check. You were about to respond with a copy into your com, when something in your periphery caught your eye. 

Your eyes narrowed slightly, your brow furrowing. Tension set into your shoulders as you raised your gun back up to your eyeline. In a moment of complete stillness, you hear the dampened sound of boots hitting the floor, softened by the concrete wall separating you. Your hand is halfway to your com, about to alert the team to another presence in the facility as the world around you erupts. 

The wall on your left explodes, debris flying at you, concrete and metal piping hitting you at once, knocking you breathless to the floor. You don’t even have the time to let out a grunt of pain as soldiers pour into the room. Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the sound of your teammates communicating, but you’re too dazed to understand what they’re saying. Looking down at yourself, you spot the source of the pulsing pain radiating through your body.

A piece of metal pipe, torn and gnarled by the explosion, has embedded itself in the right side of your gut. Without thinking, you grit your teeth, yanking the pipe out with a cry of pain, before turning the sharp end in your hand, giving yourself a weapon until you can get to your gun at the other end of the room.

None of the soldiers had spotted you yet, the dust blown up from the explosion limiting the visibility their torches gave them. But it wasn’t going to stay that way for long. Leaning on another chunk of concrete, you force yourself to stand, head pushed up, defiant as the adrenaline pumping through your body dims the pain of the wound and helps to clear your head. 

‘Now that,’ you call out, voice clear and deadly in the sudden silence of the room, ‘was rude.’ 

Immediately, you launch the metal stake at the stomach of the nearest soldier, sliding across the floor to be just in front of him as he doubles over. You don’t even think as your hands grip the back of his head, pulling it down into your knee with a sickening crunch. Before the soldier had even let go of his gun, you tear it from his hands, using him as a shield from the gunfire now aimed in your direction. 

You take out two more men, before the weapon jams. With a grunt, you bring it down hard on the head of another man, momentarily incapacitating him. But before you can finish the job, white hot pain sears through your body as another soldier lands a hit right on top of your injury. Suddenly, you’re on the floor. Suddenly, you have no weapons. Suddenly, there are two men standing over you, guns trained on you and sick grins on their faces.

And then, suddenly, they’re gone. 

Now, Bucky Barnes is standing over you, looking pissed as he lowers his metal hand down to help you up. ‘I thought we agreed no more trying to die on missions,’ he quips, a hint of concern undermining the nonchalance he’s trying to show. 

‘I had it covered,’ you grumble out, almost too quickly, accepting Bucky’s hand up. The second you’re upright, the room tips, and Bucky’s hand catches your arm, stopping you from falling. His steel blue eyes lock onto yours immediately: ‘you good?’ His expression leaves no room for lies. 

But you’d forgotten. You’d genuinely forgotten your injury. Adrenaline was pumping through you so hard that you didn’t feel it. Your mind was trained on the mission, it was all you could think about. So you nodded in response, ‘I’m good,’ pulling away from Bucky as you crossed the room to pick up your discarded weapon. You feel complete with it back in your hands. 

‘Good,’ Bucky responds, any softness in his demeanour instantly gone as he snaps back into his mission headspace. ‘We gotta get out of here. The others are already on the way to the extraction point, Ava got hit pretty hard. We need to get back to the tower asap.’

You nod in response, expression slipping back into that of the dutiful soldier. Bucky turns from you, leading the way, knowing instinctively that you’ll cover his six. You always did. An unspoken agreement. An unnamed relationship. It just was. And you were fine with that. But then you took a step forward, pain raging through your body out of the wound in your stomach. 

You stumble slightly, letting out a hiss of pain between your teeth, righting yourself before Bucky can notice anything. You grit your teeth, lock your head forward and barrel onwards to the jet. Ava was hurt, badly, from what Bucky said. She needed to be the priority. Once you got to sit down on the jet, you’d be okay. You’d go to debrief, then hide back in your rooms, take care of the injury, and take it easy in training for a few days. 

Fine. No one needed to know. You were new enough to the team that you didn’t know how they’d respond to you being injured. You’d been trained to hide any weakness. Trained to think of it as an inconvenience. Trained to believe that if others recognised you needed help, you meant nothing. 

So, teeth gritted, brow furrowed, sweat running down your brow, you moved, staying close and always watching Bucky’s six. You walked through the wreckage of the compound, hyperaware of your foot placement, knowing if you went down again, it would be damn hard to get up again. The ringing in your ears still hadn’t stopped, and your hands had started shaking. Your heartbeat thundered through your body and as you made it outside into the sun light black spots started dancing in your vision. 

You didn’t catch Bucky looking over his shoulder at you, worry painting his face. You just blinked the black spots away as you carried on towards the jet. At some point, Bucky had dropped back, noticing how your gait was favouring your left side, how you moved slower and with less grace than usual. He kept his mouth shut, trusting that, if something serious had happened, you would know to speak up. He didn’t want to pressure you, didn’t want to push a boundary. 

You all but collapsed into your seat on the jet, managing to play it off with a yawn as John looked at you, eyebrow raised in silent questioning: ‘are you okay’. Thankfully, he quickly turned his attention back to Ava; her wounds were bad, but they weren’t fatal. They knocked her out with a sedative, and John was watching the monitors like a hawk. 

Yelena slumped down into her seat next to you. ‘Well, that went to shit.’ You simply nodded back, huffing out a ‘you’re telling me,’ that sounded more like a sigh than a laugh. The quiet companionship and the friendship that had grown between you and Yelena were precious to you. Her life had been like yours. You two understood things about the other that no one else ever would. So you couldn’t let her know you were hurt. She’d think you are weak. You’d lose her. 

Instead, you strapped yourself into your seat, grateful that your dark clothes were hiding the blood loss. Maybe the straps were a bit tight, but the one over the wound would help to slow the blood flow at least. Around you, the team were falling into place, all getting comfy, or as comfortable as was possible, for the six-hour flight back to base. The jet took off, and as the lights dimmed, only the glow of the monitors hooked up to Ava remained. You let the darkness pull you under. 

You gasped awake as you felt surprisingly gentle hands undoing the buckle on your seatbelt. Your eyes snapped open, but the darkness in the cabin meant it took a while for them to adjust to the world around them. All you could see was a figure, kneeling in front of you, and one of the medpacks open next to them. 

‘You’re hurt.’

It was Bucky. As he turned to look in the medpack for something, the auto-light inside it illuminated his face. His jaw was set tight, brow furrowed in something that you thought might be concern. Shit. No one was supposed to know, they were going to think your weak, think you can’t look after yourself, that you aren’t worthy of their trust. Fuck.

‘I-‘ your breath caught in your throat as it sped up in panic, ‘I’m fine, Barnes. You don’t have to-’ You fell into silence as his steely eyes locked onto yours, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. Bucky’s head turned back to the medpack, but you heard him softly say, ‘You’re not there.’ You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘Being hurt does not make you weak,’ he turned back to look at you, hands now full of saline solution, gauze, a needle and thread and some packing. ‘You are not worth less because you got injured. 

You looked away, something in your chest tightening at his words and your eyes, for some reason, becoming damp. Your cheeks flushed, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe shame, maybe both. You were grateful when you looked around the jet, that the rest of the team was still passed out. But, amidst your distraction, Bucky’s hand came to the bottom of your shirt. Your hand caught his wrist with a gasp, pure instinct. You froze there, eyes now intently locked onto Barnes. You two stayed like that for a moment before Bucky raised his eyebrows, nodding his head slightly. Trust me? You realised he was asking for permission.  With a deep breath, you let go of his wrist, allowing him to pull your shirt up enough to see the wound. 

As the fabric pulled away, it made a grotesque wet sound, met by the smallest whimper of pain that fell from your lips. Bucky’s frown deepened as he took in your injury. Frankly put, it was a bloody mess of torn skin, fresh and dried blood, and debris. ‘You don’t hide these things,’ he said, brow set in a furrow of confusion, eyes betraying just how worried he was, ‘not from me.’ He looked back up to you, ‘Never from me.’ 

You could only nod, emotion tightening your throat too much for anything else. All your life, you’d been told being hurt meant being weak. Yet here was Bucky Barnes, promising you otherwise. ‘I’ve gotta clean it first. It’s gonna hurt.’ Bucky’s voice was gentle but firm. It was either let him clean it or do it yourself. ‘I guessed as much.’ You chose the first, leaning your head back, pulling your face into an image of passivity, just like you were trained, but Bucky’s hand came to rest on your knee, drawing your attention back to him, ‘It gets too much, just say the word and we’ll pause, okay? You don’t just have to suffer through it anymore.’ 

‘Okay,’ you whispered out. Bucky worked as quickly as possible while ensuring that the wound was fully cleaned. Occasionally, you’d shift, the pain becoming too much, or you’d let out the smallest sound of pain. Each time, Bucky stopped immediately, locking eyes with you, refusing to carry on until you gave him the nod. Eventually, the wound was clean. The sad look on Bucky’s face still hadn’t fully dissipated. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, ‘So who gets to do the needlework honours today? Me or you?’ But Bucky didn’t laugh. Instead, his eyes darkened, knowing too well the number of times your trainers would have forced you to stitch yourself up, alone, with no supplies. How many times had he had to do that for himself? 

Instead of replying, Bucky rested his metal hand on your thigh, palm up. An invitation. You took hold of his hand, grimacing as he began to thread the needle. With the first stitch done, Bucky looked to you, asking, in his own attempt at humour, ‘you know I can’t feel the arm right? You’re not gonna hurt me.’ 

You suddenly realised that you weren’t squeezing it. But as Bucky threaded the second stitch, that changed. You refused to cry out, but put your trust in the strength of vibranium as you squeezed his hand with all your might, sweat beading on your forehead. 

You must have dissociated at some point, because the next thing you registered was Bucky taping some gauze over the now stitched-up wound. You let out a deep sigh, whispering out a quiet ‘thank you.’ Bucky shifted to his feet, moving to the open chair on the other side of you. You both sat in silence for a while, allowing the gentle movements of the jet to lull you both into a sense of safety. 

After a while, Bucky spoke up. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Your gaze shifted down to your hands, lips pursed, a frown now appearing on your forehead. ‘I don’t know how to do this yet. How to be in a team, how to…’ you trailed off.

‘How to let people care about you.’ Bucky finished your sentence for you, and as you turned your head to look at him in reply, it suddenly dawned on you that he’d probably felt the same way once. He nodded, looking at his hands. ‘I know how you feel. It gets easier, I promise. But please, you don’t have to do this alone. Hell, you don’t have to do anything alone anymore. Just talk to us. Talk to me. I care about you too much to watch you suffer in silence. 

Your cheeks were wet, you suddenly realised, as Bucky’s hand slowly came to your cheek to wipe away the tears that sat there. You leaned into his hand, ever so slightly. You couldn’t talk right now, but Bucky didn’t need you to. You simply looked into each other’s eyes and knew a silent promise had been made. You sat in comfortable silence for a while, in the darkness of the jet, surrounded by your family. In that darkness, you felt safe. You felt at home. 

‘You should get some sleep,’ Bucky said above you, ‘still got two hours until we’re at the tower.’ You nodded your head, slowly, tentatively, leaning over to rest your head on Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t bristle at the contact. If anything, you felt him relax ever so slightly under the weight of your upper body. 

As sleep dragged you back into its peace, you heard Bucky whisper above you, ‘I got you, doll. I got you.’ 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

He'll Always Come Part 2

Bucky x reader

Summary: You were back. You were safe. Bucky knew that. But healing isn't linear, and to be honest, Bucky was scared.

Read part 1 here

CWs: description of injuries, so much angst

You were floating. Some part of your brain was trying to claw its way back into consciousness. But you weren’t quite ready yet. Your body was trying to tell your brain that it could feel hands on you, gently lifting you up, placing you onto something soft, something that was moving. That words were being said above your head. You didn’t care. The only thing your brain was willing to acknowledge was the cool comfort of a metal hand clamped tight around your own right hand. The pain was gone now. Bucky was here. 

The second time consciousness reared its head, the world came into focus much quicker. In fact, it tore a deep gasp out of your chest. It came in the form of a deep, dull ache in your body, matched by a biting stinging sensation and the feeling of hands on your ankle. 

The sharp intake of breath, the involuntary contraction of your abs, forced your back off of the mountain of clinically white, clean pillows behind it. You forced your eyes open, blurred shapes filling your vision as you tensed the muscles in your arms. A guttural moan of pain ripped itself out from deep within you. 

The part of your brain that had woken up hadn’t registered that you were safe. That you were home. All it knew was that you were in pain, and that people in white coats were flurrying around you. That hands were on you, and where they touched, you hurt. 

‘No, god, no, please no,’ you started begging. You were back. The Red Room. They’d found you somehow. They had you. What were they doing to you? What tests had they run, what experiments had they done? Why did you hurt already? You couldn’t breathe. There was something in your throat. Some kind of tube. You couldn’t do this. No, no no no no. Not again. They weren’t getting you again. Not without a fight. 

Your arm screamed in protest as you lifted it, forcing your numb fingers into a fist while a litany of pleading still fell from your lips, getting ready to swing. Someone was at your side. 

‘Doll, it’s me! Jesus Christ, someone help her!’ A warm, gentle hand encased your fist as a cold second hand came to rest on your shoulder. Softly, you were pushed back into the pillow beneath you, tears falling across your cheekbones and running freely into your hair.

A face swam in your vision, blurry and undefinable, but clearly concerned. Huh. Something about him made you want to stop fighting. The voice above you softened, whispering low enough that only you could hear: ‘It’s okay, you’re safe. You're safe now. I’ve got you. I promise.’ The warm hand has let your own go now, moving to stroke your hair.

You didn’t have the time to think about why that voice made you want to cry in a different kind of way. Instead, you felt something cold rushing through you, a kind of cold coming from the inside, instead of the out. You were being pulled back into nothingness before you knew it, but the stroking your hair, soothing you, stayed. 

There was something on top of you. Not like before, not like the weight of waking up from being knocked unconscious. No, it was literally a physical weight. You shifted, grunting a little as you tried to move underneath it, loosely registering the brush of material on you against something else. For some reason, it was heavier on one side than the other.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, wincing a little as you took in the world around you, your skull pounding in protest at being awake. You were lying in a bed, propped up on some pillows, and from where your head rested you could see the faint glow of the room in front of you. Shifting your eyes to the side, you noticed a twinkling trail of fairylights, lighting the ceiling just enough for you to realise where you were. The med bay of the tower. 

Slowly, testing your movements to see which would let pain blare through the gentle haze of painkillers you could feel running through your body, you lifted your head. And your heart crumbled. So that was the odd weight. 

At the foot of your bed, curled over himself on the space in your mattress, was James Barnes. A smile tugged at your lips, pulling slightly on what you could only assume was a healing split lip. All you wanted in the world was to run your fingers through his hair. Throw caution to the wind and all that. 

Except the second you tried to sit up, white hot pain seared through your body, causing you to cry out in both shock and pain. Bucky was at your side before you blinked, one hand on your back, the other on your shoulder, helping lower you back into the bed. He spoke softly above you ‘Easy, baby, easy,’ as he helped move you like you were something breakable, worth all the money in the world. 

Now, laid back against the pillows behind you, you drew in a stuttering breath. ‘Hey Buck-‘ you broke off into a coughing fit, suddenly realising how dry your throat was, aftershocks of pain rolling over you. Bucky had moved again, quicker than light, to hold a plastic straw to your lips. ‘Just drink baby, don’t try and talk yet.’ You nodded, sipping the water and relishing the feel of the cold slipping down your throat. 

When you had drunk enough, Bucky moved the straw from your lips, placing it on the table next to your bed and pulling his chair up beside your bed. He was barely sat in it, hovering, anxious to jump the second it looked like you needed something. When he finally settled down, you got the chance to take a good look at him.

A sad smile fell over your face, as you raised your hand to rest on his cheek, thumb slowly stroking along his cheekbone. There were dark circles under his eyes, deep enough to tell you he hadn’t slept for days, and a cut running just below his eye down his cheek. His hair was clumped together and greasy. Oh, you realise, he hasn’t left me. 

The two of you sit like that for a moment, the flicker of fairylights and a candle in the far corner of the room the only movement in the space. Slowly, as though you might crack just from the contact, Bucky’s hand comes up to meet your own, pulling it to his lips as he presses the gentlest of kisses into your palm, before whispering out practically into your hand, ‘never do that to me again, doll.’

It was only as he moved your hand into his line of vision that you noticed the white bandage wrapped around it, the IV line pressing into your elbow, and the bruises covering the unbandaged parts of skin. You look into Bucky’s blue eyes, realising not only how shattered he looks, but how scared, how guilty. Through cracked lips, you ask ‘How bad is it?’ 

Bucky’s eyes broke away from yours. ‘I-‘ he broke off, not knowing where to start. You felt the silence heavy on your chest. ’You’ve been out for a while. You were in a bad way when we found you. The wounds on your ankles and wrists from where they’d had you,’ he chokes slightly, voice breaking, ‘where they had you chained were infected. All the ribs on your right side were broken or cracked, and one had punctured a lung. Add on top of that the concussion, the wound on your arm, the other cuts and bruises and the fact that they’d electrocuted you…’ Bucky’s voice shrunk down into a whisper and his eyes looked far away, trapped somewhere in the memory of your rescue. He swallowed uncomfortably, ‘It was touch and go for a while there.’ 

You nodded, numbly. You didn’t know what to think. So you didn’t, not yet. Instead, you looked at your boyfriend, the man you would burn the world down to save, placing your hand back on his cheek and directing his gaze to you. ‘Look at me, James,’ you asked, voice hoarse from disuse, but your heart fluttering slightly as his eyes met yours, ‘you came for me. You found me. You saved me. I’m okay.’

‘But if I’d been slower. If we hadn’t-‘

‘But you did,’ you cut him off, ‘and I knew you would.’

Bucky’s eyes broke away from you again. ‘The only reason they came for you was because of me. This is my fault, I never should’ve-‘

‘Never should have what? Loved me? Let me love you?’ Bucky looked like all the air had been knocked out of him, devastated. Your voice was gaining strength now.  You shifted in your bed slightly, Bucky’s head immediately whipping round at the sound, concern filling his eyes, which had tears flowing freely from them now. You reached out, taking Bucky’s wrist in your hand and pulling him softly towards you. He stopped at the rail of your bed, but you kept pulling, not stopping until he gingerly climbed into the bed next to you. Slowly, with Bucky taking most of your weight, helping you move, you rested your upper body against Bucky’s chest.

You couldn't do much right now, but by god, you were going to be there for him. You would hold him while he held you. He didn't get to pull away from you, not now. You would heal, together.

‘They took so much from us, James. So much. They don’t get to take you too. I love you. I love you in spite of the fear that every day we step onto a battlefield where you could be taken away from me. I love you so much my chest hurts and my heart sings. I love you, and if that means every once in a while I have to watch my boyfriend rage out against some assholes who underestimated how hard it would be to break me to get to you, then so be it. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, and nothing on this world is going to change that.’ 

‘I just love you so much,’ Bucky croaked out above you, vibrations in his chest rumbling in your head slightly and tears falling into your hair. ‘I can’t lose you.’

‘I love you too. I’m not going anywhere.’ 

You lay there, wrapped in each other's arms for a while. Bucky brought your bandaged wrists to his lips, softly kissing them, one at a time, as you looked around the room again. You suddenly realised how odd it was that a hospital room had fairy lights and candles. On your bedside table was a photo of you and the team, and next to it, three books, all making up a trilogy you’d been talking about wanting to read. On the other side was a jar with a skull on top of it, filled to the brim with gummy snakes and next to it, a bag of Darkmilk chocolate buttons…your favourite. At the foot of your bed was a red guardian teddy bear. 

Above you, Bucky saw you take in the room. ‘They’ve all been asking about you.’ You look up at him. ‘The team. The photo’s John’s, the fairylight and candle are from Yelena, something about the Red Room and waking up in soft light. Bob snuck those sweets past five doctors to make sure you could have them, and Ava dropped the books off, said she’d been meaning to lend them.’ Bucky huffed out a grumble of laughter, ‘I reckon you can guess who the bear is from.’

Warmth overflowed in your heart. John knew you’d need to be reminded of your found family, happy and strong. Yelena knew the trauma of waking up after a Red Room surgery, the bright lights and loud noises. So she’d brought soft lights and homey scents. You’d told Bob about your secret sweet tooth, the one that only came out when you were sad or on your period, months ago. He’d remembered. And those books on your bedside stand? They were brand new. Your family had seen you. Really seen you, and done everything in their power to let you know.

Eventually you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the arms of the man who loved you, knowing your family were near by, that they loved you, and that they would keep you safe. 

You didn’t know that the rest of the team had set up a guard outside your room, taking shifts, swapping in and out, making sure you were safe, that if you needed anything, they were there. You quickly figured it out, however, as you heard Bob’s giddy voice fail to quietly whisper to someone ‘They just look so cute.’ It was the telltale sign of Alexi’s phone camera going off that woke you up - he insisted on keeping his ringer on at all times. 

Your eyes drifted open to see the whole team crowded around your bed. You didn’t say anything, just smiled up at them. No one left your room that night. None of the doctors commented. They simply brought more chairs in. You needed your family, and they needed to see that you were okay, and who was going to deny any of you that. 

AN: Here's part two! I hope it doesn't disappoint! Honestly, I'm shocked by the love part one has gotten, so thank you all so, so much! This writer is feeling loved and appreciated x

taglist for this part: @atwingeofenvy @buckyinmyuniverse @resting-confused-face @saucysasha2035 @wandanatissuperior @crazypuppynight

[figtreesandmoonlight]

One of Those Days

Bucky x reader one shot

Summary: You'd had one of those days. A truly, tremendously shitty day. And you can't hold it all in much longer. Thankfully, Bucky's waiting for you at home, ready to help you however you need.

AN: I'm having such a bad scoliosis flare-up and decided we all needed some quick fluff. just so much fluff

It was just one of those days. You’d slept through your alarm, so you had to run to work without your lunch, or even being able to kiss Bucky goodbye. You got caught in the rain on your commute without an umbrella, the subway was busy, and of course, it was the one day your boss had actually come in early enough to notice you being late. You sat down to work, and the dull ache at the bottom left of your spine made itself known. 

You let out a deep sigh. It was going to be a long day. 

You took some painkillers almost straight away, knowing that when your scoliosis wanted to make itself known, it would stop at nothing. Then you buried yourself in work. You were criminally overworked and underpaid, with three major deadlines for the partners coming up. Missing them wasn’t an option. This meant that you never left your desk to get lunch, let alone a cup of coffee. You weren’t sure you could walk with how your spine was acting up anyway. It’s just one of those days, you thought to yourself.

About halfway through your day, your boss felt the need to come over and remind you how replaceable you were, and how important those deadlines coming up were. You could hardly tell if he wanted you to keep working or just give up. Just a bad day, just gotta get through it. 5pm rolled around, and people started leaving the office. Then the usual ‘stay laters’ left at 6. You were the last one left in the building by 8. 

After finally finishing the third report, you stood up from your desk, cringing at how the pain spread from the base of your back up and across your shoulder blade. You’d officially had enough. You packed your bag, saying goodnight to Gary the cleaner on your way out. Except the second you left the building, a cab tore through the massive puddle that had formed next to the curb of your office, leaving you covered in too much water for you to find it at all funny. You grit your teeth. It’s okay, you told yourself, you’d be home soon. You can fall apart there. Just gotta get home.

But then your train was late, meaning even more people piled onto the next one, someone shoving you into someone else, and another person treading on your foot. And naturally, when you got to your stop, it had started raining again. You hiked your bag higher up onto your shoulder, your back screaming in protest as you let out a little groan. You could feel the tears welling up already. 

By the time you reached the front door of your apartment, your hands were shaking, a mix of the chronic, nagging pain of your back and the feelings of defeat from such a terrible day threatening to overwhelm you. It took two attempts to get your key into the lock. 

As you slipped inside, something in you crumbled. You leant against the door, bag falling from your shoulder and eyes closing. As the sound of calming jazz swirled around you, you felt the tears sneak up on you once more. 

‘Hey, baby, you okay?’

You opened your eyes to see James stood looking back at you, grey sweats and red henley painting him as the image of comfort. His face was painted with a gentle concern as he leaned in the doorframe to the living room. You could barely manage to shake your head before Bucky had crossed the hallway in two quick steps, pulling you into his chest, letting you hide your face in his neck as he rested his chin on your head. The smell of sandalwood and smoke and safety engulfed you. 

You stayed like that for a moment, Bucky giving you the feeling of comfort and warmth that you needed. The first crack inside you mended. Gently, Bucky pulled away from you, worried blue eyes peering down at you as he pulled you into his side instead, his metal hand coming up to cup your face as it came to rest on his chest. His other hand picked up your bag without him even needing to look away from you. ‘Let’s go to the living room, yeah?’

His hand slips around your waist, holding you close to him, letting his warmth surround you, as though he could physically take some of the emotional weight pushing you down if he tried hard enough. He settled you down on the couch, helping you take off your coat and boots, pulling your favourite fluffy blanket over you as he shifted so you could rest on his chest. 

Once your breathing evened out and the tears had stopped falling, Bucky slipped away quickly, returning in seconds with your favourite tea, lemon, ginger and a shit tonne of honey. He handed it to you alongside a kiss on your forehead. ‘Is your back playing up hun?’ You nodded in response, with a little ‘yeh’.

Bucky slowly manoeuvred the two of you so that you were sitting between his legs, facing away from him. He helped you out of your shirt, before gently pulling your hair over your left shoulder and kissing the crook of your neck where your hair had been. Without needing to say anything, Bucky started to gently massage your back, his metal hand using its heater function that Shuri had insisted he install ‘just in case’ when he’d started dating you. He didn’t know if she knew or not, but was damn grateful either way. 

Under the gentle pressure of Bucky’s hands massaging your upper back, he could slowly see the sadness of the day melting out of your body. ‘Do you wanna talk about it?’ He asked gently, not pushing, but offering, letting you know he would listen if you needed to talk. You let out a small sigh, your shoulders deflating even more, and your head dropping as you told Bucky about your simply terrible day.

You finished telling Bucky about your day, your back pain, and your horrible boss as he finished working on your lower back. You shuffled round to face him, although not quite able to meet his eyes. ‘It’s stupid, I know. I know it could be so much worse, everything just built up, and I’m gonna start my period any day now, and I just…’ you trailed off, embarrassed that such little things had been able to work you up so much. 

‘Hey,’ Bucky said, his hand moving to rest along your jawbone and cheek, tilting your head up until you were looking at his blue eyes staring at yours, full of compassion and love, ‘it’s not stupid. Stuff builds up. You’ve had a shit day, and you’re in pain. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You don’t have to be perfect with me, doll. You can fall apart, and afterwards, I’ll help put you back together.’

You didn’t reply; instead, you moved closer to Bucky, pulling him into a tender kiss. When you break apart, you stay close to each other as you whisper, ‘I love you, James.’

‘I love you too.’

You all but collapse into him, head resting on his chest as he pulls the blanket up over both of you. ‘You don’t gotta do anything else today, doll. I’ll order in your favourite and we’ll put a film on. Hell, I’ll even carry you to bed,’ Bucky pulls you tighter into him, ‘Just let me take care of you, okay?’ You nod into his chest, feeling the remaining cracks from the day start to repair themselves as Bucky surrounds you with love. You’re home, and you have Bucky. Everything’s going to be okay. 

[figtreesandmoonlight]

He'll Always Come

Bucky x reader one shot 

part 2 is here

Summary: You were taken. You don’t know by who, but they want to know about Bucky, and you’ll die before you tell them a thing about your boyfriend. You just need to bide your time, because he’ll come. He always comes. 

TWS: Assault, injured reader, descriptions of violence & torture

You laugh as you spit a mouthful of blood out onto the cold stone floor beneath you. It looks oddly vibrant under the bright fluro lights above you. Everything in you hurts; there’s a gash on your forehead that has been bleeding so long the blood has dripped into your eye, half blinding you, your breath seems concerningly bubbly every time your lungs expand, and a litany of black and blue bruises is currently making artwork of your skin. 

But you laugh. You laugh at the man in front of you. Because simply put, he’s a fucking idiot. He’s wearing a balaclava that you’re sure makes him feel really powerful and masculine as he beats you. That and the horror movie-esque metal tray of ‘toys’ next to him. He’s shown you how he likes to ‘play’. You’re not a fan.

But still, you laugh. As it sends the man into another bout of rage, you laugh. As his fists slam into your ribs, forcing your body to unconsciously curl in on itself, you laugh. As he picks up a cattle prod from the tray and begins electrocuting you, you laugh. 

You manage to grind out, ‘you are so fucked.’

Because you know Bucky will come. Through the pain searing through your body, you hold onto that fact with certainty. Bucky was coming. And he would make sure you got home. 

So while currents of electricity are tearing their way through your body, you laugh.

Consciousness had come to you slowly. You’d become aware of a dull ache spreading through your body, seemingly without a source, pulsing in intensity every time your heart beat. It was made worse in the places where your body held contact with the ground beneath you, cold and hard, adding a bone-deep stiffness to your body. 

You tried to move your arms first, but each limb felt like it was weighed down by some invisible blanket. You were faintly aware of a cool chill and the dull sharpness of metal circling your ankle. Your hearing came next, a dull ringing in your ears giving way to the constant sound of a drip of water, too regular to be a simple leak. 

You lay in the cold space for a while, it could have been a minute, it could have been 30 as you floated between consciousness and sleep. It was a violent wave of nausea that finally forced your eyes open and your body upright, your blurry eyes scanning the space around you for somewhere to throw up. Your hazed mind moved on instinct, your muscles screaming out as you dragged yourself towards the bucket your eyes had managed to lock onto. Your body forced out anything it had in it. 

You collapsed next to the bucket, gasping in lungfuls of air as a sheen of sweat settled across your brow. Once you’d caught your breath, you blinked harshly, determined to bring the world around you into focus. You almost wished you hadn’t. 

The first thing you properly registered was the harsh, cold lights above you, casting everything in an aggressively bright light. The next was the way the light bounced off the chain that ran from a too-tight cuff on your right ankle to a bolt in the centre of the space. The walls and floor were concrete. There was a constant stream of water running from a pipe in the far corner of the room, which stopped a few feet above the ground, splashing all over and keeping the floor soaked at all times. 

You felt more nauseous as your eyes tracked a trail of crimson water from where you’d woken up, to where you now sat. 

You took stock of yourself, scarily aware that you had to be bleeding somewhere, but you could barely feel any sensation in your body. You were still in your tactical trousers, but your tactical vest had been replaced with a black one, meaning while you were unconscious, someone had taken it off and undressed you to put you in this new top. The thought made you shiver. 

Your knuckles were bruised and cut, and your ankle already had a circle of skin rubbed raw and bleeding around the tight cuff they’d put on you. It was so tight that you couldn’t see, but you could feel, small teeth on the inside of the cuff, digging into your skin, pulling more blood from you. Somehow, you just felt oddly grateful you could feel that part of your body. There was a deep gash running down your right arm, steadily releasing a stream of blood down your arm that you still hadn’t felt.

You’d been drugged. That much was clear. You shut your eyes again, taking a deep breath, an odd pressure pushing back against your lungs as you did so. You started grasping at straws of memory that were trying to evaporate into your mind. Bucky had just come home from a solo mission. You’d left your apartment in Brooklyn to meet him at the compound with the rest of the team. You’d all planned a night of celebration; Val had sent you all on separate missions recently, and you’d missed your team. It was the first night you were all back in town. You’d stopped at Alfonso’s on the way to the tower to grab the latest Thunderbolts merch for Alexi and then…

And then you’d walked back out onto the street and turned down the same alley Bucky always begged you not to use. You dragged your hand up to the side of your neck, grimacing as you felt the trail of crusted blood between your fingers. You didn’t even wince as your head fell back into the cold concrete behind you. Someone had jumped you, shot something into your neck before you’d had the chance to react. The world had slipped away beneath you. 

Damn. You would’ve liked those Cheerios. 

You sat like that for a while, listening to the sound of the water pooling in the room and dripping down the drain. You scanned the room again. Concrete floor and walls, a bolted door with no windows, ceiling with vents and the fluro beams in it, but not much else. No bed, no chair, nothing to turn into a weapon, but there was a damp mattress in the corner across from the water pipe. And surveillance cameras. You’d clocked them as soon as you’d woken up. You shuffled closer to the centre of the room, getting some slack in the chain around your ankle to inspect it. It was steel, and it was too thick to hope you could snap it, even with your enhanced strength.

The feeling in your body had returned in waves, and now, sat in the middle of the room, you hurt. There was an ache in your bones, more than just the drug wearing off, your ankle burned with pain whether you moved or not, and your arm was practically screaming at you, now letting out a concerning amount of blood.

Bastards hadn’t even had the decency to wrap it. 

You huffed as you used your good arm and teeth to tear off a strip of the tank they’d put you in, before shuffling over to the water pipe, saying a prayer it was clean water, and shoving your arm under it. The sting brought tears to your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you gritted your teeth and tied the strip of fabric over the wound, hoping at least this way you wouldn’t die from blood loss. 

Using your good arm, you scooped a few mouthfuls of water from the pipe, assuming that was what it was there for. You could taste something like iron as you swallowed, but your body’s need for water outweighed any other concern. 

This was fine. It was annoying, and you were gonna get yelled at by Bucky for SURE, but all in all you were okay. If whoever had you wanted you dead, you would already be. You were an ex-widow. What’s the worst they could do? 

You were left on your own for at least a day, no demands or extra pain, but that also meant no med supplies, no food, no way of figuring out who had you and why. The lights stayed on the whole time, and the water never stopped running, so despite the purple bruises settling under your eyes and the exhaustion gripping your body, you didn’t sleep. It didn’t bother you too much; you never could sleep without Bucky anyway. 

It was some point on the second day that you heard the sound of boots marching down a hall near you. You braced yourself as the door swung open, showing three built men dressed in black, all with guns trained on you. You didn’t move, didn't flinch. 

They stormed over to you, eerily silent as one purposely hauled you up by your bad arm, the sudden jolt of pain forcing a gasp out of your mouth, which turned into a cry as one of the other guards roughly grabbed at your chained ankle, unbolting the chain from the floor. The room swam and you tilted, the effects of bloodloss and no food starting to show. The guard attached something to the end of the chain, and you didn’t get a chance to try and figure out what it was before electricity shot through it, burning through your body, making all of your muscles tense in agony, and you cry out in pain. The only reason you didn’t fall to the floor was the guard still holding you up. 

‘Don’t even think about trying anything’ one of the men spat at you. You were now flanked, one man on either side, with the third, gun trained on you and the device in his other hand. Out of nowhere, a hood was pulled over your head, and a sharp shove on your back nearly had you spilling onto the floor before the two guards started marching you forward. 

Smart. They knew better than to let you see the facility. 

You tried to log the route you took, right first, then two lefts and a long corridor. You were pulled to a sudden stop as you heard the sound of a door unbolting. You were shoved forward once more, before being unceremoniously dumped into a metal chair. The pain radiating from your ankle and the sound of the chain clanking told you they’d rebolted you to something, and your hands were forced to the arms of the chair as more cuffs locked over your wrists. Finally, the hood was roughly ripped from your head, taking a handful of your hair with it.

You blinked once, twice, clearing your vision and getting accustomed to the new lights around you. A headache was forming in the back of your skull. Your wrists and ankles were trapped, and trying out your strength on them did nothing, although whether that was because of the metal or your weakness, you didn’t know.

That was when your eyes trained on the figure sitting on a chair, just hidden by shadows. You tilted your head slightly, sizing the man up as your lips pulled into a slight smirk. 

‘Ooo,’ you cooed out, ‘is this where you threaten my life?’

The reply you got was another shock of electricity tearing through your body, the fire of it burning strong, but you refused to cry out. Panting, you saw the figure across stand up and step into the light. 

‘Ugh,’ you complained, ‘that balaclava really isn’t doing much for you. A bit on the nose for the villain look isn’t it?’. 

You heard the crack of his fist connecting with your face before you felt the burn of it. You could feel the blood trickling hot down your face. 

‘Why don’t you let me do the talking, love.’ Huh, so the guy who took you was British. You could have some fun with that. ‘Some friends of mine would like some one-on-one time with the Winter Soldier, and a little birdie told me you’re the person who knows him best. So, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna tell me what I want to know, or we’re gonna have a bit of fun,��� he threatened, gesturing to a metal table you hadn’t seen until now. It had clamps, pliers, blades and a hell of a lot of other stuff on it. 

That was a mistake. You couldn’t care less if you got hurt. It was absolution for your sins. But not Bucky. They were going to get jack shit from you. Your boyfriend was one protective man, hell, he was probably already on the way to you. Your new friend could meet him then.

And so it began. You never thought you’d feel grateful for your time in the red room, but you were wrong. He asked you a question, you refused to answer, you got punished. You weren’t sure how long the cycle went on for, but at some point, the comedy of the situation hit you. He kept pressing, where is Barnes, how do we get to him. You couldn’t help but laugh, because he was coming, oh he was coming, and no one other than you was going to get out of here alive. 

That was when the cattle prod got involved. Your mind had completely disassociated from your body. Pain had already overwhelmed all of your senses. The bite of the prod was simply another wave in the sea of hurt you were swimming through. That was why you hadn’t clocked it. The sound of gunfire outside the room you were in, the sight of Ava phasing into the room, slamming open the door while taking out one of the guards. It was John’s voice that brought you somewhat back to the room.

‘Shit,’ he called out as his eyes locked on your frame, broken and bloody, ‘Bucky, we got her!’ 

Somewhere in the haze of pain your brain was floating in, you registered the softness of two hands so tenderly cupping your cheeks. Two blue eyes were staring into your own. Bucky’s. They were Bucky’s eyes. The ringing in your ears subsided a little as his voice broke through the clouds, ‘Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s me, Doll, can you hear me?’ You could only blink in response, your head lolling from side to side in Bucky’s hands.

‘Jesus Christ, what have they done to you,’ Bucky whispered under his breath, voice cracking with emotion and eyes filling with rage as he did. ‘Okay, Doll, we’re gonna get you out of here.’  His eyes quickly tracked your body, gritting his teeth, vein in his neck popping, and jaw clenching as his eyes caught sight of the chains holding you to the chair and the blood pooling around them. ‘Lena!’ He barked out, ‘get her out of these.’ 

Yelena had frozen in the doorway to the cell when she had caught sight of you, of just how bad you looked, how broken you were. But Bucky’s voice sprang her into action. She sprinted over to the two of you. ‘Hey sunshine,’ she said to you softly, eyes trying to lock onto your own, ‘I need to get you out of these, but it might hurt.’ Again, all you could do was blink. 

Yelena worked quickly, picking the lock on each cuff, whispering broken apologies to you every time she jolted the restraints, causing you to flinch or hiss. ‘I will kill them all,’ Yelena swore as she managed to pop open the first cuff, pain and horror filling her at the sight of your mangled wrist, the torn skin and trickles of blood. 

‘No,’ Bucky growled out, still cradling your face in his hands, ‘I will.’ 

From there, Yelena made quick work of the rest of the cuffs while John and Ava took out the remaining agents and Alexi worked through the troops pouring in outside. But Bucky couldn’t move. He couldn’t leave you. Not now. Not again. He held you so softly, so gently, like you were broken porcelain, about to fall apart. He couldn’t let you go. He was scared who he would become if he did. Because right now, Bucky needed blood, needed to make those who hurt you sorry. But you needed him more. And you came first. Always. Unquestioningly. It was you. You, above all else. 

It was Yelena telling him, ‘she’s out’ that snapped Bucky back to himself. He looked at you again, noticing something closer to awareness in your face. ‘Doll, can you hear me?’ He asked, praying to whatever god was above that the answer would be yes. Somewhere between the first and the last cuff coming off, you’d drifted closer back to yourself, and now, the look of Bucky, of his blue eyes seeing straight into you, drew you back fully. You nodded, grinding out an ‘I’m here, Buck.’ 

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. ‘Thank god. Okay, I need to get you out of here,’ John and Ava had moved into the hallway to help back up Alexi, clearing a path for your extraction, while Yelena waited to cover your and Bucky’s six. ‘Do you think you can stand?’ You nodded in response, moving to throw your good arm over Bucky’s shoulder, while his metal arm circled your waist, taking as much of your weight as possible, whispering a litany of apologies as you winced when his hand brushed your injuries. He pressed a quick kiss into your hair, before saying, ‘on three, yeah? One, two, three.’ 

Even with Bucky taking nearly all of your weight, you couldn’t stop yourself tipping straight over, the room spinning like a tornado in your line of vision. ‘Shit,’ Bucky responded immediately, catching you just before your body collided with the floor. He held you for a moment, eyes searching yours, ‘Jesus doll, have they given you any food at all?’ It was the most you could do to shake your head and grind out a ‘no.’ 

Bucky took a sharp breath in, his eyes filling with rage, his jaw tensing as he swore, ’Bastards. I’ll fucking kill them.’

Without another word, Bucky swept you up into his arms, apologising as he saw your face briefly scrunch in pain at the movement. ‘John,’ he said into his earpiece, his voice now steely cold, ‘we’re moving.’

‘Copy that,’ he replied, ‘You’ve got a clear exit.’

The route out of the facility was a blur to your mind. You were once again floating in a state of hazy numbness. Flashes of your family fighting registered in your brain, but all you could really think now was that you were safe. Bucky had come, like you knew he would, and you were going home. All you could focus on was the warmth radiating from Bucky and the rhythm of his heartbeat that you could feel where your head rested on his chest. 

Suddenly, light and cold air burst around you. Your body responded with a gasp, and Bucky shifted, holding you even closer to his chest in response, as if he could shield you from the world, even the cold. 

You were being laid down on something soft, the medical bed on the quinjet, a part of your brain registered. But all that kept running through your brain was that Bucky came. Bucky came, and I’m going home. A constant warmth held your right hand; you knew it was him. A litany of words spilt into your ears, and while their meaning was lost on you, you knew the deep voice above you was his. Something cool spread through your body, lulling you closer and closer to unconsciousness. You softened, the remaining tension falling from your body as you let it pull you towards a calm, safe, and happy in the knowledge that you’d kept Bucky safe, that he had you now, and you were going to be okay. 

AN: i honestly have no idea where this one came from, it kind of just did! I feel like it's asking for a prt 2, so keep your eyes open and lmk if you wanna be tagged in it!